Moira tapped her nails against her knee, waiting for Bise to come and say goodbye. It wouldn't be emotional or desperate, knowing him. He was efficient, he didn't like getting feelings tied up in hopeless cases. Moira suspected that was why he wanted a permanent servant rather than a string of prostitutes or girlfriends who would end up leaving him eventually. But she had been with him for almost seven years, and now she'd be gone. Well, probably be gone. Moira was a fighter. She hadn't been trained like the careers in districts one and two, but she knew lots of self-defense from when she was a prostitute and she had an iron will. She wouldn't let herself be trampled easily.

There wasn't a clock in the holding room, but it seemed to Moira that she was waiting longer than it would take for Bise to come. She felt a twinge of disappointment, but dismissed it as silly and useless. Bise wasn't her boyfriend, or even her lover. He was her employer. He let her sleep in his house, eat his food, and he sent some money to nine for her mother every month. She cooked, cleaned, and tended to him physically. It wasn't a relationship, it was a mutually beneficial arrangement. Still, she noticed the corners of her mouth give way to a tiny smile when the door swung open, and then a frown when she saw who it was. Phox, one of Bise's personal secretaries. Moira had spoken to him maybe three times in her entire employment, she wouldn't even know his name if Bise hadn't talked about him on a few occasions. He didn't even say anything, he just handed her a little paper slip that Moira recognized from Bise's desk. She knew he carried stationary on him most times he went out in case he needed to leave a note for someone, they'd know it was really from him. He was important, after all.

'I regret the loss of you. It is my hope that, should you succeed in the game, you will continue your employment. –B'

Moira looked up at Phox and thanked him blankly. He nodded and left. Moira clutched the paper in her hand, trying not to over think it. But how could she not? That was the only human connection she had left. She wrote to her mother, but she hadn't seen her in years and letters were impersonal. Bise was the only person who was constant to her, and he had given her a twenty two word note that read like memo between business colleges who didn't know each other's first names. Moira was alone. She knew, objectively, that was better. Not having anyone to miss or worry about would be an advantage in the arena, but she couldn't help the empty, gaping feeling she was pretending wasn't there.


Sorry this is a little short. The chapters I'm writing now (I'm writing chapter 22 now) are about 2000 words each. After this chapter, they tend to get progressively longer.