Hebe couldn't help but feel her breath pulled from her lungs at the sight of the presidential palace. Yes, she'd never had much love for the extravagance of the Capitol, but she could appreciate a beautiful building when she saw one. She could also understand the significance of this moment, the rite of passage she was currently experiencing, and the climax of her victory tour.
Ambrosia walked briskly in front of Hebe and her mentor, wearing a dress even more extravagant than the one from earlier, with enormous ruffles of blue and green extending out from her hips.
Finnick took long strides to keep up with the woman, but kept his hands buried deep into the pockets of his trousers. He was dressed quite differently than usual, with a pair of black slacks and a well tailored suit jacket that hung off his lithe frame. Underneath was a white shirt with only a few of its buttons done up, that had embroidery of waves that trailed over his body.
Ambrosia suddenly stopped, holding out her arms and taking a deep breath.
"Here it is. The biggest party of the year. Anybody who's anyone is here, and they all want to meet you Hebe!"
"I have no idea why…" Finnick muttered so only his tribute could hear it, and she rewarded him with a slap to the chest.
"Now, keep your chin up, and put on your best smile, because we're almost there!" The woman squealed, not bothering to look back at Hebe. It was lucky she didn't, because she would've been greeted with two miserable faces.
"Any tips?" She whispered, moving closer to the man beside her.
"They can be very, uh, grabby. Just to let you know."
"Great. Just what I need right now."
"What are you two mumbling about?" Ambrosia asked, whipping around with an accusatory look on her face.
The pair jumped apart like they had been caught doing something wrong.
"Nothing." Finnick responded, smiling that stupid charming smile that seemed to always get him out of trouble.
"Hmm," She eyed them both carefully, "No matter then. Just make sure you project properly when you speak. You both know how much I hate mumbling." She spun back around, holding her head high whilst Finnick and Hebe both rolled their eyes at one another.
The group climbed the steps to the front doors of the palace, and Hebe took a quick breath in, revelling in what might be her last breath of freedom.
She immediately plastered on that near perfect smile of hers, waving to the odd member of the crowd that surrounded the entrance way. As expected, Finnick did the same beside her, winking to random members of the Capitol, and laughing as they professed their love to him.
Just like her mentor had said, many of them reached out to grab a hold of her. Some touched her hair, a couple of them even pulling on one of the coils. Another nearly ripped the fin off of the back of her dress. But most of them just reached out to touch her skin or the fabric of her dress, running their long nails over her body.
She had a sudden flashback to the first dream she had after winning her games, the one where the Capitol put her up in a museum and its citizens stole pieces of her flesh. Terrifyingly, it felt like that one had come true.
And she could do nothing but accept their touch, and do everything she could not to recoil. Each time she let out an involuntary shiver of disgust she played it off as shyness, smiling coyly at her admirers, and silently wishing she could put an axe in their face.
Eventually she was out of the hallway, and they were in the main room of the mansion. The entire room of Capitolites turned to watch them enter, clapping and cheering as the group were thrust into the party.
Ambrosia immediately seemed to rid herself of all her uptightness and abandoned the pair of victors in favour of chatting excitedly with a group of Capitolites.
"Did she seriously just ditch us?" Hebe whispered bitterly.
"She sure did," Finnick mused, surveying the room, "I guess everyone needs to unwind at some point."
"Even Ambrosia…"
He laughed at that, "Even Ambrosia."
Finnick kept a hand lightly on the small of her back as he led them both through the crowd, more than likely trying to find somewhere to hide out where they wouldn't be constantly bombarded with citizens.
It was a task that was proving more difficult than Hebe would have thought, and they were stopped constantly as they moved around the room by supposed 'fans' of both of them.
One Capitol woman in particular practically threw herself, rather drunkenly, at Finnick when she spotted him from her seat at the bar. She had splayed her hands across his chest as she slurred her confession of love, all the while glaring at Hebe by his side. He'd eventually managed to push the woman off of him, whispering some seductive words in her ear to convince her to leave the two alone.
"Who was that woman?" Hebe asked quietly, swirling the champagne around in her glass.
Finnick sighed, leaning up against the wall of the small alcove they'd discovered, "A former client of mine. Anastasia, I think? She was one of my first, hasn't really let it go, but hasn't got the funds to cough up again."
"Well, she's insane." Hebe said, looking back out at the crowd of Capitolites, laughing and drinking and screaming.
"They're all insane."
He wasn't wrong. It broke Hebe's heart to think he was only 18, yet he'd already been 'working' for Snow for the last 2 years. Before she'd met him she hadn't fully comprehended how young he really was. It was shocking to think she was actually several months older than him.
She pulled the string on the side of her dress to retract the fin and lent against the wall, taking small sips of her champagne. She didn't really trust Capitol food as much as she once had. She didn't trust anything as much as she once had.
"You'll probably want to drink some more of that." Finnick said bitterly.
"Huh?"
"These things tend to be slightly more tolerable if you're at least a bit drunk."
She eyed him curiously, "That may be, but I'd rather not end up like Haymitch."
He laughed harshly at that, not the usual soft sound, but something more sharp and forced, like it cut his throat as it came out. Hebe narrowed her eyes at the man but he didn't elaborate on his strange behaviour.
She was about to bite the bullet and ask what was wrong when he suddenly straightened up, giving her a look out of the corner of his eye that told her to do the same. Hebe turned behind her, noticing that a Capitol man was approaching the two, a strange glint appearing in his eyes when he saw Hebe.
He had neon orange hair slicked back into a low ponytail which almost blinded Hebe as he walked towards her, as did his teeth white were even whiter than Caesar's. Maybe she'd have to ask after his dentist instead.
"Ah, Finnick, how are you my boy?" He asked, still not taking his wide eyes off of Hebe as he shook Finnick's hand.
"Happy to be back, Felix."
"Well it's been so long since you've been here. So long since I've seen you…" The Capitolite mused, almost as though he was trying to make the victor feel guilty.
Finnick laughed, a different laugh to the strangled one from earlier, but no less forced.
"I've been very busy with my new victor here." He placed a hand on her back.
"Of course! I understand, dear. In fact, I came over here to introduce myself to your victor," He winked at Finnick, and turned back to Hebe once again,
"My name is Felix Dovecote, I'm a personal advisor to president Snow."
Hebe felt her heart drop down into the soles of her feet, but swallowed her anxiety and replied, "It's a pleasure to meet you, sir. Hebe Cross."
"Oh, isn't she just so polite," He crooned, showing off those sparkling white teeth once again, "I'm sure you wouldn't mind me stealing her for a quick dance, would you Finnick?"
Hebe noticed the tiny flash of anger in Finnick's eyes, the twitch of a grimace on his lips, but it was gone as soon as it had appeared.
"Of course not." He held out his freehand, and Hebe swallowed the lump in her throat as Felix darted to her side, taking her arm in his. Just before he whisked her away, she exchanged a quick glance with Finnick, and she smiled sadly at his bitter, apologetic expression.
He had nothing to apologise for, denying any member of the Capitol, especially an advisor to the president, was practically suicide.
Felix led her to the centre of the dancefloor, his clammy fingers digging into her arm all the way there, and she had to restrain herself from punching him and running out the building.
As they reached the middle, the string quartet struck up a new slower tune, and Hebe wanted to grab the player's cello and bash whoever changed the tune over the head with it. She was forced to endure Felix wrapping his arm around her, and through the thin, skin tight fabric she could feel every movement of his wandering fingers.
They began to dance, and she was suddenly immensely grateful to Ambrosia for teaching her how, otherwise she would've been entirely lost. She allowed herself a slow blink to ground herself, and to fall into the character she was forced to play.
"So, Miss Cross, how have you been enjoying the Capitol?"
"Oh, please call me Hebe." She said, smiling bashfully.
"Of course."
"Well, I must say, it is beautiful here. The architecture, the fountains, the sculptures, it's all so impressive. We don't have anything like that in the districts. Oh, and those hedge sculptures, those are my favourite."
She smiled wistfully, filling her voice with as much fake awe as she could muster, and hoping he would believe it.
"Oh, you mean the topiaries?"
"Is that what they're called?" Hebe laughed, playing the part of the dumb district girl. Of course she knew what they were called, "Well, whatever they are, they're very impressive."
He seemed to enjoy her naive act, so she decided that was the angle she would go for with him.
"Well the Capitol certainly is beautiful. Just like you are." He flashed her that sickening toothy grin, and she had to pretend like she was flattered and not about to vomit all over his pure white suit.
"Why thank you." She giggled, casting her eyes to the floor.
"And I must say, you fit in very well here." He remarked smugly.
"Oh really? That's a kind thing to say."
"It's all true. You can even dance like us. Your timing is impeccable. It must be due to your musical talent."
Hebe smiled brightly, "I try my best. Did you enjoy the performance?"
"I think everybody in the Capitol enjoyed it. It was truly impeccable."
"Oh, I'm so glad you think so," She breathed a fake sigh of relief, "I was so nervous about it."
"Well, you certainly didn't have anything to be nervous about. And I can say the same thing about your games, can't I!"
Hebe just stopped herself from flinching, not allowing a single stray emotion to flicker across her face and ruin her perfectly calculated mask. Instead she giggled again in that ridiculous girlish way.
"I mean, I was slightly terrified, but I was confident in my abilities."
"As you should be! You had such brutal kills, it was very impressive. Especially those careers, how devilishly clever of you!"
Felix then devolved into the typical Capitol ramblings about the games, and Hebe nodded along as impassively as she could, trying to force the images of bloodied tributes from her mind.
"-sent you that medicine? Hebe?" He asked, and it took her a moment to clock the fact he had asked her a question that she didn't take in whatsoever.
"Hmm? Oh, I'm sorry, I was just distracted thinking about something." She tried to keep up her naive act, looking down wistfully.
"And what might that be?" He asked, narrowing his eyes at her.
He clearly didn't believe her, and she suddenly realised she was going to have to take a leaf out of Finnick's book.
She lowered her voice an octave, and swirled a finger around a greasy lock of bright orange hair.
"Well… I was wondering how you manage to get your hair so bright and colourful. It really is beautiful, we don't have anything like it in the Districts..." She trailed off, looking at him through her eyelashes, and forcing the rising bile back down her throat.
Felix looked down at her, and Hebe suddenly recognised that strange glint in his eye as hunger. She felt sick. With herself, but also with everyone in the Capitol who was doing this to her.
He smirked at her, "Well, as I was saying before, I was wondering if you knew I was the one who sent you that medicine in the arena."
"I had no idea!" She said, taking her hand from his shoulder to place it on her chest in shock. She did genuinely have no idea, but why he thought she would actually care was entirely beyond her.
"Thank you so much. Gosh, now I feel like I owe you…" She regretted those words as soon as they came out of her mouth, remembering her 'arrangement' with Snow.
The music had stopped, and he was reassuring her it was his pleasure, and she was about to make her escape when a hand on her shoulder provided her the perfect out.
She had expected to look up and see her mentor, but instead it was a woman standing behind her, one she recognised from her tour in 2, Enobaria. They hadn't spoken to each other whatsoever, so Hebe was surprised to see her here, and saving her from Felix nonetheless.
"Sorry to interrupt you two, I just needed to grab Hebe here for something. Victor stuff, y'know?" She tightened her grip on Hebe's shoulders as she grinned at Felix, baring all of her pointed teeth at the man.
"Ah, uh, yes, of course, I've already stolen far too much of her time tonight! Until next time." He gave her that sleazy smile yet again, grabbing her free hand and pressing a slobbery kiss on it. And then he was gone, disappearing back into the crowd.
Enobaria was quick to pull her away from the dance floor as well, practically dragging her towards the women's bathrooms.
"Where's-?"
"Where's the pretty boy? Busy. Asked me to look out for you." She said, her voice clipped and harsh, just as Hebe had expected her to be. It appeared she didn't have the usual put on persona that characterised Victors.
She pushed them both through the door to the bathroom, striding into the stall and quickly calling out to Hebe as she went, "Wash that fuckers spit off your hand!"
The girl looked down at her hand, recoiling as she noticed the big slobbery mark Felix had left on her hand, quickly reaching for the tap and running her hand under the water.
Enobaria emerged from the cubicle a few moments later, washing her own hands and brushing them off on the long golden dress she had on.
"Thank you." Hebe said, waiting for the woman to finish dusting herself off.
"No problem. I owe you."
"Owe me?"
"For the games." Enobaria said simply, a sad look on her face, likely thinking of her fallen tributes.
"Ah. I understand."
The room fell silent for a moment, before Enobaria piped up again, sitting down on the edge of the vanity.
"So, Snow's got you working the circuit already, huh?"
Hebe was slightly taken aback at that, shock and fear running through her at the idea she had been discovered in some way. Then she realised this was probably a perfectly normal conversation amongst victors. It had never really crossed her mind properly before, but it was more than likely that most of the victors had been a part of Snow's arrangement at some point or another, it couldn't just be Finnick.
However, despite how normal this conversation may be for victors, she wasn't sure it was the best one to be having in President Snow's bathroom. So she decided to play dumb.
"I don't know what you're talking about."
Enobaria clicked her tongue, "You're a smart girl. So don't play dumb. Snow's got you on the exact same deal as pretty boy."
"Not a fan of Finnick, huh?" Hebe asked, partly to deflect attention, but partly because she was curious.
"No. He's a stuck up brat. But stop trying to deflect and answer my question."
Hebe sighed. "Not officially. He's going to finalise details tonight."
"Shit, that's rough."
"It sure is," Hebe thought for a moment, "He get you too?"
The victor from 2 grinned again, showing off her famous teeth.
"Nearly. These saved me." She pointed up at the fangs.
Hebe looked at her, curiously, waiting for the woman to elaborate.
"Capitolites aren't all that keen on the idea of having their throats ripped out in bed. They're into a lot of other shit, but that's a bit too far," Hebe barked out a laugh, "So, when I got them filed, suddenly all demand for me dropped, and Snow had no choice but to let me go."
"Wish I thought of that."
"I bet you do. Unfortunately for you, there's a bit too much allure about the 'Career Killer' for it to save you."
There was truth in her words. Killing the careers had probably rocketed her in popularity in the Capitol, it's what got her sponsors in the arena, and it seemed it would continue to be the main thing people remembered about her games.
"I suppose you're right about that."
"I'm certainly right about it."
Now, we best be off before they notice you're gone. Or before some idiot Capitolite comes rushing in and starts with all that chattering."
Enobaria jumped off of the counter leading the way to the door as Hebe followed closely behind. She hadn't expected to feel comfortable in the woman's company, despite how much she had always admired her.
Hebe shook her head softly. She may hate it, but she had always been a bit of a career at heart. She often thought back to her own games, how they might've gone differently if Luca hadn't been her partner.
She would've probably aligned with 1 and 2. It was strange to think of it now. Would she have still gotten all those sponsors? Would she have discovered the tunnels? And, perhaps most important, would she have won? Hebe couldn't be sure, but what she could be sure about was that Luca had set her on her current path, and she had to try and be as grateful as she could for that fact.
Enobaria bid goodbye to the girl at the entrance to the main room, but before she strode away, she whispered to Hebe.
"After a while, they get their fill of us Victors. We all tend to be in the bar through those doors," She pointed to a set of double doors on the far side of the room, and Hebe nodded, already looking forward to when she could escape the main party.
It didn't take her long to get snapped up by another member of the Capitol and whisked around the floor, all though none of them were quite as disgusting and terrifying as Felix was.
She'd quickly realised exactly what Finnick had been busy with, and her heart dropped to her stomach as she saw some Capitol woman with her paws all over him.
To the untrained eye, he was relishing the attention, but Hebe could see this discomfort in his sea green eyes. Occasionally they caught each other's gaze across the room, and they'd share the same sad smile before Hebe's dance partner pulled her into another spin, or Finnick's client dragged him into a kiss.
Every now and again she'd escape to the buffet table, snacking on bits of cheese or pastry and slowly inching her way towards the exit, praying that no one saw her trying to leave. But each and every time someone would come up to her and start bombarding her with questions, or grabbing hold of parts of her dress.
Each time she would have to act as though she was thrilled to see them, and to have them grab at any part of her they pleased. And then they would invite her to dance, and she'd be dragged back into the same cycle.
By far the most tolerable dance partner was her last one. His name was Plutarch Heavensbee, and he was a gamemaker. She found him strangely pleasant, even for a man in his profession. He kept the subject of conversation off of the games, which was refreshing, and even seemed interested in her as a person. Hebe found she played less of a role than usual when speaking to him.
In addition to this, he also had less, if any, of the typical modifications that characterised Capitol citizens. With the exception of Tigris, she often found it difficult to talk to them when all she could think about were the enormous eyelashes about to swat her in the face.
Heavensbee was a simple, rather plump man, clean shaven, and with neatly combed blonde hair. His suit wasn't extravagant by any means, and his shoes were of a normal height.
However, as much as she mildly enjoyed his company, she couldn't banish the idea that he was a gamemaker from her head. He had been responsible for the mutts that had killed Gaia, and for designing the arena she had nearly died in.
But, she had to push these thoughts aside, abandon her moral judgement so to speak, and be grateful that she wasn't trapped alone with someone like Felix.
They were just discussing the fishing methods used in 4 when they were cut off by the Capitol anthem playing, and announcing that they were all to enter the courtyard to watch the fireworks.
"Miss Cross, it has been a pleasure dancing with you."
"The pleasure is all mine Mr Heavensbee."
"Would you like me to escort you to watch the fireworks?" He asked politely, holding out a hand.
"I would appreciate that very much."
He led her out to the courtyard and manoeuvred through the throngs of people so they were situated near the back. Hebe kept her eyes firmly trained on the balcony as she waited for Snow to appear.
And soon, he did, stepping out onto the balcony to give his grand speech. She didn't listen to much of it. She knew she was going to have to endure all of his poetic bullshit in only a few minutes anyway, so what was the point of suffering through it now too?
When he was done, he raised his glass to the crowd, and they followed suit, and then the fireworks were activated, sending sparks of blue and green flying up into the sky. Hebe jolted slightly as they exploded into a rainbow of colours.
Plutarch peered at her curiously, "Not a fan of the fireworks, huh?"
"I don't know of any victor who would be." She remarked dryly, and he nodded in understanding. The sounds of the explosions were far too close to that of cannons for Hebe's liking.
She had to endure a full five minutes of fireworks, trying to stop herself from jumping each time the loud bangs sounded across the courtyard. She wouldn't be surprised if Snow kept the fireworks as a sort of torture for the victors. It seemed like the sort of twisted thing he would do.
Once the sparks had begun to dwindle, people began to exit, all milling about this way and that. However, the crowd of people didn't do anything to disguise the group of peacekeepers headed straight for Hebe.
They surrounded her and Plutarch, and she took a deep breath to steady her nerves, tightly gripping her champagne flute in one hand.
"Miss Cross, President Snow would like to see you now."
"Of course." She said quietly, placing her empty glass down on the stone wall of the garden and nodding to Plutarch.
"It was wonderful to meet you. I think you'll make an excellent victor."
"Thank you. Good luck with your game making."
He chuckled, "You don't really mean that."
Hebe mused for a second, before deciding to be honest for once in her life, "No, I suppose I don't."
"No matter. Have a lovely evening. Gentlemen." He said, nodding at the peacekeepers and taking his leave, as Hebe was practically marched into the mansion.
They didn't take her through the main room of the party, instead leading her through a back entrance and up several flights of stairs, continuing until they reached a set of oak doors. Most likely this was the entrance to Snow's office.
The peacekeepers then walked away from her, not uttering a single word that might tell her what the protocol was for this kind of thing. Was she supposed to wait until he called her in? She didn't want to keep him waiting…
Hebe sighed, raised her fist, and knocked on the door. A small, 'come in' sounded from the other side, and she let herself in.
Snow was sitting at his desk in the ornate room, sorting through a series of papers that lay on said desk. All around him were symbols of Capitol opulence, gold leaf on the ceilings, large paintings of past presidents and officials, even artefacts that had most likely been seized from the Districts.
The man himself wore a bright white suit, and Hebe wondered to herself whether he and his inner circle had some sort of dress code for tonight. And, of course, pinned to his lapel, was that signature white rose he always wore, and that he always stunk of.
"Miss Cross. Please, come sit."
She quickly followed his instruction, seating herself on the opposite side of the table just like she had when he came to visit her in the districts. Hebe quickly smoothed down her dress to get rid of any wrinkles, before returning her gaze to the president himself.
It appeared he had just finished whatever it was he had been doing, placing the stack to one side and looking directly at her, his hands clasped in front of him.
"How has your evening been so far?"
"It's been wonderful, sir. You have a beautiful home."
He smiled at her sickeningly, baring teeth that she was certain were yellowing underneath all the Capitol modifications, "It is beautiful, isn't it? I'm glad you've been enjoying yourself. And, I trust you enjoyed your dance with Mr Dovecote?"
Hebe was too surprised for a moment to answer, and stuttered slightly. How could the president know who she had been dancing with, when he hadn't been there all night?
"Oh, don't look alarmed. I have cameras all over my home, for security purposes of course."
Hebe nodded, "Of course. Although, I don't think anyone would have the guts to rob the presidential palace."
"No, of course not. Now, back to Dovecote, did you enjoy his company?"
"I did. Very much so." Hebe replied, blatantly lying through her teeth, "He must be a very good advisor."
President Snow laughed at that, waving a hand dismissively, "Oh, no, he's terrible. Untrustworthy, idiotic, and rather greasy. I'm shocked you had such a lovely time with him."
"Sir?" Hebe furrowed her brow. She had thought the exact same thing, although she would never admit it.
"You know what they say, Miss Cross."
"And what might that be?"
"Keep your friends close, and your enemies closer."
Hebe nodded slowly. It made sense he'd adopt such an attitude, and it certainly explained why a man such as Felix Dovecote held such a prestigious position.
"And, that leads me on perfectly to my next point. Tell me, what do you know about hurricanes?"
Hebe looked at him blankly for the second time in only a few minutes, unable to process quite what he was getting at.
"Pardon?"
"Hurricanes dear, hurricanes. I thought people from 4 would know all about them."
"Uh, yes, yes I do know about hurricanes. My father worked at the docks for many years."
"Oh yes, of course. What a tragedy. So, I assume you've heard of the phrase, 'the calm before the storm'?"
Hebe narrowed her eyes at him, still not quite certain where he was going with this.
"Yes, I have."
"Perfect. I shouldn't be surprised, you are a terribly smart girl." Hebe didn't have the heart, nor the guts, to tell him that a simple metaphor didn't take much brain power to comprehend.
"The era we are currently in," He continued, "Is our calm before the storm. It is a transitionary period, and one of vital importance."
"I'm not sure I quite understand sir."
"You do, of course, know of the dark days. And you understand, I'm sure, that this current era of peace is one that was hard won by the Capitol. And we have maintained this peace for the last nearly 70 years, by having rules. And by having punishments."
"Like the hunger games."
"Precisely. You, of course, understand these punishments better than most. And, I had thought that you had understood these rules better than most, also."
"Thought, sir?" Hebe said quietly, clasping her hands together nervously beneath the desk.
His voice suddenly changed, and it was much more aggressive, sharp, even, "Did you really believe that you would be safe from following my rules, Miss Cross? I could've overlooked your little stunt in 2 as the actions of a poor, grieving girl. But-"
He cut himself off with the click of a remote, and suddenly the hologram in front of her flickered to life. And, displayed on the screen, was a scene she recognised.
It was her, crying, in her pyjamas, and a man holding her tight. He leaned in, wiping the tears off her cheeks as she sobbed. Then he was leaning in, wrapping his arms around her and pressing his lips to her hair.
Hebe watched in silence, pure shock running through her veins. She didn't even have the cognisance to recognise fear yet.
And then she watched as the man with blonde hair led her into his room, shutting the door behind him.
"Did you forget what I told you in District 4? I sat there, in your own home, and told you not to do this," He waved at the screen as if he were disgusted by it, "And yet, you still disobeyed me."
"Please," She choked out, hoarse as if her throat was closing up out of fear, "Please, sir, it's not what it looks like."
"That's not the point. The point is, that the Capitol people don't care what it is, they care only what it looks like. And that," He pointed at the paused video feed, "Is treasonous to them. You are taking their property for yourself."
Hebe felt a swell of anger at the way Snow referred to Finnick, as if he were a thing, an object to be bought and sold. She steadied herself, well aware she couldn't express her true opinions.
Instead, she prepared for the worst, "I'm sorry sir. I'll do whatever it takes to make it up to you sir, whatever it takes."
"I wouldn't make promises so quickly. We're currently experiencing what happens when you break your promises. And I'm sure you agree, that this isn't pleasant, is it?"
"No, no it's not."
"So, what you are going to do for me is very simple. First of all, you are going to become the property of the Capitol. To whoever wishes to have you in the Capitol."
Hebe nodded. She had been expecting this from the beginning.
"Secondly, you will quash whatever is happening between you and Mr Odair. Can you do that for me?"
"Yes sir. Yes I can." She responded emphatically.
"And you will. Otherwise, next time I won't be so lenient."
"I understand."
"I hope you do. We wouldn't want you darling little sister suffering the consequences, now would we?"
In that moment, Hebe was certain she felt her heart stop beating for a mere moment. She was convinced this was the end, and that after surviving the hunger games, she was going to be felled by a few words from their president.
"Please sir. Do whatever you want with me, just don't touch her. She has no part in this."
"No part? My dear, you made her a part of this when you chose to disobey me so blatantly. You must now reap what you sow."
Hebe swallowed her fear and nodded once again.
"Now," Snow's voice dropped a few decibels, and he was just as calm as he had been before, "Do we have ourselves a deal?"
"Yes," Hebe answered immediately.
"Wonderful," He reached back over to his stack of documents, grabbing the piece of paper from the top, "You have many admirers in the Capitol, and all of them are clamouring to be your, first."
Snow took a pen from the side, dipping it in a pot of ink.
"But, I figured, since you enjoy his company so much, we would place you with Mr Dovecote first off."
He passed her the paper and pen, tapping a finger at the bottom where her signature would be. Hebe didn't even bother scanning the terms of the contract. She would sign it no matter what it said.
"Perfect. Now that that's all taken care of, I have one final thing to ask of you."
"And what might that be?" Hebe said, trying to make her voice sound firm, but not aggressive.
"Your loyalty, Miss Cross. I told you only moments ago that this is our era of peace. Our 'calm before the storm'. Because, mark my words, one day, there will be a revolution. The districts will rise up against us once again. And I need people like you, to be on the right side of history when that happens."
Hebe furrowed her eyebrows. She had never even considered the idea that the districts may stage an uprising against the Capitol. At least, not in her lifetime. Clearly she wouldn't make a good president, because Snow seemed almost certain of it. And he had most likely formulated any number of plans to ensure a revolution failed.
"Of course sir."
"Good. Now, run along, you have a party to enjoy." He smiled at her once again, like a shark smiles at its prey, and motioned for her to leave.
She couldn't have left faster than she did.
Hebe didn't even bother going back to the main party. Instead, she made a beeline directly for those double doors Enobaria had pointed out to her. She stepped inside, and she was unsurprised to see a room full of familiar, normal, faces.
She didn't make small talk with anyone; she was too distressed. Instead, she walked straight up to the bar, cursing how short and tight her dress was as she struggled to sit on the stools without flashing the entire room.
She was just about to order the most alcoholic drink she could see on the menu when a gravelly voice spoke from beside her.
"Cross. Took you long enough to show up."
She turned to the side, unsurprised to see a dishevelled man clutching a glass of whiskey.
"Haymitch. Not surprised to see you here." She said, motioning to the bar.
"Well, everyone has their vices." He shrugged, downing the rest of his drink and ordering two more from the bartender. Hebe was just about to make some snarky comment about his drinking problem when he slid one glass down to her.
"You look like you need a drink."
She laughed bitterly, taking a large swig and quickly swallowing it all.
"Where's fish boy?"
Hebe was shocked Haymitch was so talkative. He always struck her as the type to avoid conversation as much as possible.
"He's busy."
Haymitch nodded in understanding, certainly understanding what she meant by 'busy'.
"Is Snow making you busy?"
She let out another bitter laugh, "Yes. I'm sure after tonight I'm going to be very busy."
"I'm sorry. You're a good kid."
"Thanks Haymitch," She took another swig of her drink, "I'm sorry too."