When Beauty Became A Curse

by cindella204

Sequel to When Life Became A Game / Finnick is finally starting to figure out his new life when he is forced to mentor in the 66th Hunger Games and finds out the price he'll have to pay for making it out of the arena. As his pride, dignity, and self-respect are stripped from him can Finnick stay strong for the sake of those he loves?

1. Prologue

DISCLAIMER:

There are several concepts, characters, and real life things that I use and/or mention in this chapter that I don't own. These include but are not limited to the Hunger Games, Finnick Odair, and Cashmere

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A/N: First of all: I am never setting deadlines for myself ever again. Ugh. This was done on time, but I had flight drama on the 23rd keeping it from getting up then, and then I was WAY busier than expected during the trip. I didn't even get my school work done, never mind uploading this. Anyway:

Welcome to When Beauty Became A Curse! Starting a new multi-chapter story is really exciting! This one will be pretty different from When Life Became A Game, but I'm hoping that you will still like it. If you're new here, then this is a sequel to my story When Life Became A Game. You can certainly read this without reading WLBAG, but there will be references to things you haven't seen...

Lastly, if I owe you a commission: Soon. I've planned and started all of them, and they are on the way.

IN THIS CHAPTER: Moderate sexual themes and language

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PROLOGUE

September - 66th Hunger Games

The Capitol

"Now what?"

Silence.

"Cashmere."

"Would you please calm down? My God, you may be pretty but your personality needs work."

"Noted. I'll see if I can make any improvements. It'll just take time, because, you know, being a whore doesn't exactly come as naturally to me as it does to you. Sorry for the inconvenience."

She makes eye contact with me for the first time. "Look, Finnick, I know you have a major grudge against District One, which is fine, and you especially hate me because I had to introduce to all of this, but frankly, get over yourself. This is my only day off for the rest of the Games most likely and I'm here, with you, which is honestly worse than if I was working because I have to be mentally present with you. I didn't have this when I started. I was the first person who got dealt this card, and when I found it out, it was from a letter, and my first client was on the other side of the door waiting for me. In summary, stop taking your angst out on me, because God knows I don't have to be here, and I'm doing you a favor right now."

God, I hate people who guilt trip. Probably because it works.

"Fine, sorry. Not in the best frame of mind right now."

"And that's what I'm worried about."

"What?"

"I'm not worried about you being able to deliver. You're…you. I'm worried about it destroying you, because it almost destroyed me, and I know what you said is true, being a whore doesn't come as naturally to you as it did to me."

This is getting way too personal for comfort. I can talk shit in my sleep, whereas having conversations about feelings is not my forte.

"What, so being a whore came naturally to you?"

"No, definitely not, but you're so, I don't know. You're as attractive as hell, but it's obvious, at least to me, that you're the kind of person who gets into a relationship and stays in it long-term. I mean, when you were talking about that one girl in your Games interview I could tell by the look on your face every time you said her name that you loved her. I was never really in love like that. I wasn't screwing people all the time like I am now, but I was never in exclusive relationships either. I preferred a few casual dates every once in awhile. It just takes a lot of effort to be in a happy, healthy, relationship, and I didn't care that much. You, on the other hand, do, so this will be even worse for you."

"So I'm screwed. No pun intended. Awesome. Where the hell are my clothes?"

Cashmere rolls her eyes. "Why would I know?"

"Maybe because you were the one who took them off of me. I know where your clothes are. You're shirt's right next to the bed, you're skirt's in that corner, and I think your underwear are under the covers somewhere."

"Well then you're just a superior human being, Finnick, because I have a hard time having sex and keeping track of where I'm throwing people's clothes at the same time. I'll try harder next time."

"ADHD. Ninety-nine percent of the time it's a curse, but it got me out of my Games alive and it let's me do things like that, so, you know…And there's my pants."

I slip my underwear back on before sliding out of the bed and going to retrieve my pants.

"See you tomorrow."

"Wait, where's your shirt?"

"No clue, I'm leaving without it. I'm only going up three floors in the elevator. Night, Cashmere."

"I don't know, Finnick. What if some unfortunate upper district mentor is on their way up to their floor and the faint at the sight of the sight of your perfect, naked torso."

I roll my eyes. "Good night, Cashmere."

"Oh, Finnick, wait!"

I stop in the doorway.

"You know that this doesn't change anything, right? District Four kids have always been the brains of the career pack, but last year was a new low. Now they require mental preparedness at the academy and show them videos from your Games. My kids are pretty much trained to hate you."

That's comforting. "Yeah, I know. It was sex. Completely physical."

She nods. "Okay, good night."

"Night."

And it begins.

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A/N: Well, that's that. Let me know what you think.

-cindella204