36: Gloss

"A party wasn't on the list," I whisper to Finnick as we walk quickly, heads down, towards the mansion; ignoring the hounding photographers.

"This trip wasn't on the list," he replies quietly. It feels like voices in your head, having your name shouted over and over again at you with comments like 'let's see that dress!' or 'crack us a smile, darling!'
I'm struggling to walk in these heels, my feet keep twisting to the sides and my ankles click painfully. I have to grab onto Finnick's arm with the hand that's not lifting up my dress several times as he stifles a laugh. As we enter we are directed not to that wretched hall from the Victory Tour but to another place- smaller and draped in plum velvet embellishments, with ponds and loveseats dotted around, bright violet lighting and an upmarket looking bar. This room looks more like a party room than a ballroom.

"This is the more... irresponsible party room," Finnick says quietly. I don't need an explanation; this is where the people become drunk and carefree. Wherethe real partying happens. I prefer it to the ballroom, but to say I like it is an overstatement.

Finnick is in a transition between Capitol Finnick and Real Finnick. He keeps up the carelessness in his walk, the seductive expression on his face. But he still leans in to whisper names of people to me and stands close to me as he can. We slip through crowds of eccentrically dressed people, some of whom stop us to make idle chat with Finnick and a few comments to me as I stand by absent-mindedly. None of them stand out to me. We're slowly making our way between the hot bodies to the other side of the room when a woman corners us both. I glance at Finnick and see from the dread in his eyes but smirk on his lips this is a client.

Her skin is white, like flour, and contrasts wickedly against her scarlet hair. It's fashioned into some kind of huge knot on the crown of her head and she wears merely a few strips of pale pink fabric. I notice two bulges on her temples as see they're actually implants the shape of stars. She's smiling satisfactorily at Finnick as she engages conversation. This can't end well.

"Finnick! Darling how lovely to see you!" she says, eyes narrowing hungrily.

"Likewise, Crysta, I didn't expect to see you here," he replies silkily. She smiles a fraction and I notice the skin on her enhanced lips stretch as she does so.

"Well I'm not missing a party with so many lovely, young Victors," she tinkles. The way she emphasised young makes me physically ill. She must be about 40 now I look closer. Her excessive surgery shows- her eyebrows are frozen in place and her eyes can't move properly. "And I see you have little Annie here too," she says, gesturing to me. Little.

"Annie is my first ever Victor," he purrs. "A milestone, you could call it."

Even Finnick is talking like I'm not even here. I can't help a pang of jealousy running through my body, electrifying it. I look down and start chewing on my lip.

"If she is in fact here would be questionable, without a few people's help," she hints sultrily, tapping Finnick's cheek. Instead of backing away he plays along, stepping closer to her and whispering in her ear.

"Let's not go into details of that round here, we may get into trouble," he murmurs just audibly. What does that mean? Was she a sponsor? Why would she sponsor me? Unless...

Unless Finnick slept with her so she'd sponsor me.

Crysta laughs softly, her eyelids heavy and lips parted sensually.

"It was definitely worth it,"

I now really feel ill. I feel guilty too. Finnick slept with this woman to help me live. He's acting like he loves her when really he despises her, as with who knows how many more Capitol women.

"I'm going to get a drink," I say quietly to him, slipping away before he can object. It's wrong to leave him but I don't know what else to do. It's selfish too, although it kills me to be around a scenario like that it must hurt Finnick ten times more, and I just left him alone.

Nonetheless I carry on quietly moving around people until I reach the magnificent bar. I perch on a quilted stool and rest my elbows on the counter and the sides of my face in my hands. I trace the elegant carvings with my eyes as I try to block this whole thing out.

"Tired of the party already, huh?"

I look up to an unfamiliar voice and see Gloss. He was last year's Victor, the year after his sister Cashmere. He is, in his own way, extremely attractive. Quiffed golden hair and peachy skin with strong bone structure and deep hazel eyes. He's considered very desirable in the Capitol; but nothing like Finnick. There's an awkwardness to him that would make him a popular with the awful women but never the majority's first choice. He's the little brother of Capitol darling Cashmere. She does the speaking, the interviews and the seductive nature lots better than Gloss.

I nod wearily and pull a corkscrew curl away from its pin and start twiddling it in my finger.

"I've been worse places," I say quietly.

"You do realise the Arena is in the Capitol, right?" he says. His tone of voice, as if none of it bothers him, astonishes me.

"Not the Arena," I say. "The nightmares, hallucinations... Madness." I can feel his eyes boring into the side of my head and glance at him. He's studying me closely, like he's trying to look deeper.

"They're controllable. Memory isn't,"

Controllable? They're anything but controllable.

"Your mental stability is a lot better than mine," I mumble. It wasn't intended for his ears but he still catches it somehow.

"In some ways. You're smart, I would've thought you'd thought up a way of drowning it by now," he sits on a stool now rather than leaning against the edge of the bar. "Watch," he says. I look intently as he leans over the counter and catches a barista's eye.

"Two white liquors," he says easily, nodding his head towards me slightly. I recognise the barista. She's an Avox, that I'm sure of, but I don't remember where from. It then hits me. This girl is Alyssa Copular. He parents ran an underground rebel association and they were killed. She tried to restart it and was turned to an Avox. She was in some of my school classes. She looks at me with reminiscence and pity and I just return the stare stupidly for a few seconds. She then breaks eye contact and busies herself with our drinks.

"Liquor? You'll end up like Haymitch, Gloss," I say worriedly.

"I only have it when necessary," he says, pulling something from the fur coat he's been forced into. "And these come in handy, too."

They're a bottle of pills of two different halves, one white, one a bright shade: Morphling pills. I gasp and clap a hand to my mouth.

"You take Morphling?" I ask in a hushed voice, eyes wide in shock.

"Only when things get bad," he says reasonably, pulling off the lid and sliding one into his palm as the drinks are place in front of us. He slides the drink towards me and I grimace at it. I've never had a taste for alcohol and I've seen people drunk plenty of times. I don't wish to be like them.

Gloss throws a pill into his mouth and knocks it back with all of his liquor. There's not much in the glass so he drains it in one go.

"Go on, it helps," he says. I look cautiously at the crystal glass by my hands as if it's a feral animal that will jump any second. "Look, if you don't have it, I will." He says bluntly. I look over at him and then back to the glass. I close my eyes quickly then shakily lift it to my lips, throwing my head back and pouring the liquid down my throat.

It tastes awful, sharp and burning against my taste buds but exhilarating all the same. After merely a few seconds I feel myself getting looser.

"See?" Gloss says knowingly. I nod and don't comment as he orders another two.

The cycle goes on for a while, order drink, talk, down drink, and repeat. Gloss is knocking back pills as if there is no tomorrow and I even have a few. My head spins and I feel so carefree and happy I keep going. Every worry and pain is numbed and replaced by an impulse to break the rules and let go. We sit and laugh, fall off the stools and make bad attempts of conversation for almost the whole duration of the party.

Suddenly Finnick breaks through the crowd, spotting the both of us and approaching quickly.

"God, I'm sorry, Ann. Crysta wouldn't let me go then I had to find you, why did you go? I've been looking everywhere!" he says.

"I left because that awful thing was being rude!" I say loudly, standing up. "I was talking to Gloss," I laugh. "He's so funny!"

Finnick looks at me bewilderedly and then notices the empty glass in my hand.

"Annie, are you drunk?" he asks tentatively.

"Nooo, I've only had a few!" I giggle. I lose my balance and fall onto him. Luckily he catches me and lifts me back up before I hit the ground.

"Gloss," he starts angrily.

"Relax, Finnick! Why are you always so..." he ponders over a word for a second. "Frigid?!" he asks, falling into fits of laughter.

"Ok, great seeing you, we've got to..." he starts.

"Here," Gloss says, holding the bottle out to Finnick along with his new liquor shot. "Loosen up, Odair!"

Finnick looks disgustedly at the pills and pushes Gloss' hand back. Suddenly his eyes widen and he turns to me.

"Have you had any of those?" he asks slowly.

"Only one or two!" I sing. He looks lividly at Gloss and growls something about having words soon before taking my hand.

"Where are we going, Finn?!" I trill.

"Back to my apartment." He says firmly, leading me through the crowd.

"But this is fun!" I complain. Finnick ignores me and keeps going until we've left the mansion where he picks me up and carries me silently.

"I'm a princess!" I shout, throwing my arms out. "Princess Annie!" He makes a noise of vague agreement and continues taking me away from the party. "Why do we have to go? I like parties!" I protest.

"The party has finished, Ann," he says clearly.

"The party never finishes, I'm going to party forever!" I holler out to the sky above me. I think I hear Finnick sigh.

He manages to get a car to take us both back and I start singing an old song called 'The Water is Wide' as rain starts beating the windscreen. Finnick sits wearily next to me, agreeing half-heartedly with everything I say.

When we reach a grand building he pays a large amount of money to the driver and lifts me out. I haven't finished my song yet but he tells me to be quiet or I'll wake people up.

We reach a door on the top floor and he turns a key, letting us into a glorious penthouse.

"Ooh! This is amazing! Do you own this Finn? I want one just like it! I'm the princess and this is my castle!" I say, throwing myself down on the bed. He sits at the foot behind me and starts unpinning my hair. "Finn, did you know I love you?!" I say excitedly, spinning round. He smiles slightly, tiredly.

"I love you too, Princess Annie, but now it's bedtime," he says softly.

"No! I'm staying awake forever!" I laugh.

"Well you can't stay awake forever in that dress," he says. He crosses to room to a dresser and pulls out a shirt of his. "You wear this, and we can get the dress off."

I nod eagerly as he unzips it and folds it on a chair, carefully pulling the shirt over my head.

"Your shirt is all soft!" I trill.

"That's great, Ann. Come on," he says, gesturing to the bed. I dive on to it and wait for him to remove the clothes he had to wear and replace them with a pair of shorts that reach his knees.

He climbs in next to me and wraps his arm round my back like he always does.

"You're the best, Finn!" I whisper loudly.

He says something back, but I don't pick it up because I'm suddenly pulled into a deep sleep and everything goes blank.

He said he loves me!

a/n-

Hi :)

Well Im not sure what to write as an a/n so I just hope you like it!

-G :)