II. REQUIEM FOR A DREAM

"Eventually we all have to accept full and total responsibility for our actions, everything we have done, and have not done. "

{FROM THE DESK OF SAPPHIRA STARLETT}

So… picture this. I'm nearly seventeen years old, fresh out of a long and busy day of training at the Valhalla Academy. For the Hunger Games, in a year or so… I've yet to decide if the Games are actually something I want, the whole reason I'm at Valhalla is for the people anyway, or at least that's what I say instead of admitting it's because my parents simply wanted to get rid of me. The Games seem nice though, a good way to elevate my platform, make me loved the way I want to be loved. I'm certainly not getting said love from my parents, and the other cadets at Valhalla care more about the Games than their status, which admittedly makes them quite boring, or at the very least, vain. Really though, they take everything far too seriously, and I get the feeling they loathe me because I don't.

But back to what I was saying— It had been a long and hot day of sweating my face off at Valhalla, and as usual, said strenuous labor has brung me to the Blitz, a bar midtown. It's a bit flashy, which obviously isn't a bad thing, I mean it's me we're talking about, but still, all the people seem rather fake. But then again, the film industry is full of fake people so I should really get used to it, especially when practically everybody sees me as fake. I'd like to think I'm not but you never know, they could be right. At least I'm aware of it.

There's a purple florescent hue to the room, lights dimmed low and the silhouettes of people all around me. It's hard for me to make out any faces from the doorway, but surely I know at least one other person here. I never plan my visits to the Blitz with somebody else, I just expect that somebody I know will be lounging in this cesspool of affluence and alcohol. Most of the time I'm right, even if I can't really say I have friends or anything… more like acquaintances? I… don't really have time for friends, or at least that's what I say so I don't seem like a complete loser.

But maybe I am just that… a loser. I mean, I'm alone at the bar for the third night in a row because I'm hoping that whatever the specialty cocktail is will make me feel alive for an hour or two. It's not that I feel dead or anything, just… dormant. I know I have potential to do great things someday, it just seems that today is very much not that day. And tomorrow won't be that day either… or probably not the day after that because let's be honest, I'm a mess. The only way young folk around here get to be held in high regard is by winning the Games, and I just… again, would be in it for the fame, not the killing. Training's isn't insanely difficult unless we're being reminded that we're going to be killing actual people in the Games. I'm sure I'll get over it if I ever do have to go to the Games, and gosh— I keep thinking about them now don't I? No, no, I'm being a fool, they're not what I want. I can just become a star my own way, always have and always will.

I walk up to the bar and see Riesetti per usual, it's like he never leaves this place, constantly standing guard in front of his immaculate display of bottles. He's got an odd accent when he speaks, and he asks me, "What can I get 'cha today?"

He's by far the least classy person here.

"What's today's special, sir?" I do my best to sound all formal even if he appears to be the sort of guy who doesn't give a darn how nice I sound.

Riesetti points to a sign on the wall, "Sangria with blueberries."

"I'll have that then," I nod and watch him go aside to make my poison for the evening. I'll be back for more soon enough, I always am. When he brings me the drink, I tell him to put in on my tab which I'll pay later, and with one sip of the liquor, I'm already transported to a faraway land.

Sure, I'm not wildly intoxicated as of now, but knowing that there's alcohol in my system is enough to make me giddy. I feel my skin tingle and a smile curling by the corner of my lips, but most of all, I no longer feel like I'm nothing. I no longer feel like the "drama queen" that's chastised at Valhalla for being too dramatic, the daughter who gets spoiled for the sake of leaving her parents alone. I'm no longer a reject amongst both socialites and commoners, I'm suddenly a goddess in my own creation. And I feel jubilant.

Another sip of the bitter blueberries and I feel myself soaring even further up into the cosmos. The purple hue of the bar's grown even brighter and I'm suddenly more sure of who everybody is, more specifically, I'm dreadfully aware when Giselle Garnet taps me on the shoulder.

"Oh wow, I didn't expect to see you here, Sapphira," She smirks, as pompous as ever.

I playfully roll my eyes, "It's not like I have anything better to do," and I take another sip.

Giselle's in a way… everything I wish I was. She's more popular than me at Valhalla despite not having any interest in the Games, and her physical appearance is flawless, she doesn't even need to try and she looks like an angelic figure. And then she's also got this freaky side to her, it seems everybody boy or girl is beguiled by her. I'd be wrong to admit I'm not the same.

I made love… well lust to Giselle for the first time in my life a few weeks ago, both of us high on something so strong I've forgotten the name, and it felt… warm, almost? It was clear she didn't really care for me, but the delusion of such even if it was just for a few hours was enough to make my entire week, even if she spoke far more than she had any need to. I tried my hand at touching her, but it didn't really work well so eventually I just stopped and let her do everything. By the end of it, when she made me walk home at three in the morning, I just felt cold.

She told me that she wanted to sleep with me again, yet that never really happened, and I'm certainly not going to be the one to beg her. That would leave a nasty impression and to be disliked by Giselle Garnet is to be disliked by all of One.

"You're not busy with your, film career?" She laughs at me, and I'm not sure if I want to slap her or kiss her. I'd drunkenly told her one night that I wanted nothing more than to be a movie star, and ever since then she's been cracking jokes about it.

I feel my cheeks flush, "I'm not particularly busy with it. Why do you ask?"

I've no clue why I'm actually talking to Giselle when I could be doing just about anything else, but there's something about her that just… draws me in. I long to have that same effect on other people, "Just making casual conversation. What are you drinking, anyways?"

My eyes pivot down to the glass, now half empty, "The special. Want some?"

Giselle doesn't answer for a bit, instead digging through her bag until she finds a clear bottle of white pills, unscrewing the lid and plopping one of them in her hand, "You know I like the stronger stuff. Care for this?"

"What is it?" I ask. I know whatever it is, it's a bad idea and I really shouldn't even be considering taking it, yet I can't help but want it. Giselle's always got the most interesting drugs, and whenever I take them it feels like I'm actually in heaven, not like I'm just pretending with the alcohol.

"I think… it's acid," She holds her fingers to her chin, and it's enough to convince me so I pick the pill from her hand, our fingers lingering together for a few minutes too long before I place the tablet under my tongue and watch as the world around me fades.

"Woah…" My mouth opens in shock and Giselle's just laughing at me, "Everythings…"

"The way it is in your dreams?" She grabs at my shoulder, "Because that's typically what acid does, it lets fantasy become reality, even if it's just for a little bit."

She's exactly right, because I see my name in lights and my parents giving me a hug and a crowd of fans cheering my name, adorning me in their love because yes… they love me. I see everybody loving me, Giselle in the sidelines instead of the spotlight, and I'm no longer the girl that everybody likes to make fun of.

I'll make this my real world someday. I've got no choice but.

Lucy in The Sky with Diamonds by The Beatles

Okay I know it's nearly been three months and I know this chapter is short but guess what? This is my comfort fic and I get to do whatever the fuck I want with it. Anyways, Miss Starlett is on acid, so that's cute of her I guess. I hear a quarter quell announcement is on the horizon. That's all I'm saying for now… bye besties