A tear slips from Lacey's eyes as she pulls the white sweater back over her head, turning away from the man who was already asleep on the bed.
Just another name she could mark down. Just another dollar on her paycheck- another small part of her breaking for the sake of satisfying Snow and keeping herself alive. The person on the bed was a considerably ugly man- his orange hair was slick back with gel and sweat, his eyelids tinted a sickly looking green.
Lacey pulls on her pants next, the dark fabric tight and constricting around her skin. She chooses to carry her heels as she walks out- no need to wake him up with the noise that came with walking in the six inch deathtraps. When she steps outside, she can't shake the almost grateful feeling that the games were going on. It was an awful thought- she felt bad even thinking it- but while the games were going on, the citizens in the Capitol tended to stay inside watching the games, or attending parties centered around sponsors. It kept them off the street, for the most part. In other words- there were less people around to witness her walk of shame.
She wasn't always this way. Wasn't always a Capitol pet.
Just one year ago, she was a fairly normal District 1 citizen with a family who cared and decent life. Just one year ago, she spent her days giggling with her friends over the cute boys at the training academy. Just one year ago, at the age of 16, Lacey was reaped for the 73rd Hunger Games. And just one year ago, she was crowned victor of the 73rd Games.
It was an especially brutal Games- ten dead within the first day alone. But Lacey had been likable. Not the smartest when it came to strategies, not the most skilled at ruthlessly murdering teenagers. But for one, she was fast and, if needed, could work her way with a knife- and two, Lacey was a career. A pretty, absentminded career from District 1 who no one had betted on winning. It wasn't that the sponsors didn't like her- on the contrary, she had been a favorite by many- she kept a side of lightness to the games with her chiming laughter and her slightly inappropriate jokes- but she wasn't a killer.
Or, at least , that's what everyone had thought right up until the point that she landed the fatal blow to her district partner that left her as winner of the games.
And it all fell into line after that. President Snow, after the crowning, requesting a meeting. Telling her that she had quite the fanbase in men throughout The Capitol. More or less threatening her family to death in the case that she refused her duty and his 'protection.'
"Lacey," a voice called, completely pulling her from her thoughts. She squeezed her eyes shut quickly, trying to drown out the images. Despite the amount of time that has passed, she still has trouble coping sometimes. The memory of Bronze, her partner with her knife sticking in his chest, it still hurts. "Lace, wait a second."
She turns now, coming face to face with Calder Halpurn. He looks winded, and she vaguely wonders how long he has been trying to catch up with her. "Hey, Cal. What's going on?"
"Cato and the fire girl are the last two left. Games are gonna be ending real soon, I bet," he informs her while falling in step with her. Calder is dressed in a button up shirt and bright pants, his brown curls tousled, and she guesses he was at a sponsor party- when your dad is as important as his is in Capitol society, you're expected to attend those events. "And Cato, he's got it in the bag. Kat won't know what hit her."
Lacey frowns, but nods. "Yeah," she says lamely.
"Hey," Calder puts a hand on her arm, trying to stop her walking. She flinches at the touch, but stops and he is smart enough to lift up his hand and, for that, she is thankful. "Are you alright, Lace? I understand why this is hard for you, with it being so recently and Bronze and- I mean- are you going to be up to meeting the victor? I know Snow wants you to. But if you really don't think you can do it, I can try and have my dad talk-"
"No, no, no," she interrupts, running a hand through her messy blonde hair. "I'm fine, Cal. I can take care of myself. But thanks, that's sweet of you to offer." She offers him a small smile and although he looks torn, he nods.
"Okay, but if you change your mind, don't hesitate to call. I care about you, Lace, and I don't want to see you hurting like this."
She wishes she could appreciate the words more, but it's in vain. She does appreciate Calder's ever present kindness- she knew that she wasn't easy to deal with, especially not recently- but ever since she had officially moved into the Capitol, he treated her as a friend. Although she couldn't be completely sure and she wouldn't dare ask, she has always thought that Calder was aware of her situation- what her time in the Capitol consisted of. Afterall, his father was one of her busiest clients.
"Thanks again," she smiles, and the boy is still hanging around with a dopey smile on his lips so she says, "Hey, want to come over and watch the end of the games with me?" And immediately, he grins and practically pulls her towards her own house.
They arrive just in time to turn on the television and see Cato decapitate the girl from twelve.
Cato Ludwig, District 2, is victor. He's on top of the cornecopia,a crazed look in his blue eyes as he stares at the head of the girl. His arms are raised in a gesture of victory, and he is yelling something unintelligible. Lacey wonders, vaguely, if that's what she looked like when she was named victor. She remembers wailing over Bronze's body, apologizing and yelling for him to come back and holding his body until the hovercrafts came and she was pulled out of the arena. And Bronze, with that almost serene look in his eyes at that last moment- again, she found herself squeezing her eyes tight and taking deep breaths to get rid of the haunting images.
Calder puts a gentle hand on her shoulder, a comforting gesture. His attention is on the screen, though. The blonde boy is due to be taken back to the Capitol any second- as if on cue, two hovercrafts appear. The first is for the boy. The second is to pick up Katniss' head and limp body.
"Calder, I'm going to go put coffee on," Lacey says, needing an excuse to get out of the room. "Want any?"
"Sure," he nods.
Even from the kitchen, Lacey can still hear the TV. She hears Claudius Templesmith, that dreaded announcer, saying how he never once doubted Cato. Recognizing Cato for his supreme determination and leadership abilities. For loyalty to his district partner and to his alliance. That, she feels, is a personal dig towards her.
When she comes back to her living room with two mugs of coffee, Calder is on her couch stretched out, feet resting on her small end table. In that moment, he doesn't look like a Capitol citizen. He doesn't look like Calder Halpurn, son of Romulus Halpurn. Perhaps he doesn't look the part due to the fact he doesn't keep up with Capitol trends. He's natural, spare for the obviously unrealistic shade of green that his eyes have been made. It's quite easy to look past that, though, when you're in a world filled with colored hair and painted skin. Lacey finds it much easier to like him, to be comfortable around him, solely based on him not looking like a Capitol heir, but instead like a well dressed nineteen year old from any outlying district.
"Here," she hands him the drink, taking a seat next to her. He thanks her, and it is silent for a few moments.
"Lacey," he finally says, sighing. "I'm being serious here- are you positive that you'll be okay with going along on the tour and everything? I- and I mean this in the nicest way, Lace- but I don't think that you are...up to it. You've been through so much and if I just bring it up, tell them you're still coping, I bet I ca-"
"I already told you," she interrupts, taking a breath. "I can take care of myself."
"No, Lace- I don't think you can. You've changed so much since then- I mean, I didn't know you, but just from interviews and..you're not this girl, Lace. You use to be so easy going and lighthearted and I just want-"
Lacey stands up, anger suddenly gripping her, and then she's yelling. "God damnit, Calder. Did you really expect me to come out of that arena unchanged? I killed someone, Cal. Someone who trusted me. I killed my friend. And for what? So I could be paraded around as the Capitol's tramp? So I can join Finnick Odair in the rankings for most loved Capitol whore?"
Her blue eyes are ablaze and Calder had his arms up, a gesture of surrender. His mouth opens to say something, a reply to her outburst, but before he can say anything, her front door flies open and the room is full of peacekeepers and she can't be too sure because she is sort of dazed, but she thinks Calder is cursing at them and then he's getting pulled back and she's being dragged from her house. Lacey's in a car and she's crying and a peacekeeper yells at her to shutup and she feels something pinch her and there's only a second of pain before she feels her eyes shutting against her will.