Coriolanus spent the rest of the set in furious planning. Though his eyes tracked Lucy Gray on the stage, the music that she and the Covey were making was a quiet din, a white noise, that purred in the back of his mind, though he did not hear any specific tunes or notes.

In fact, the music was so secondary that when Sejanus leaned over and nudged him and whispered, "Damn, some of these original songs could actually be popular," Coriolanus realized he had not even registered the change from covers to self-written. But he nodded along, naturally, trying to make his agreement a sharp nod, conveying firm agreement.

Even if he wasn't listening, he was sure it was good.

Somehow, he doubted Lucy Gray would accept anything different.

What he was doing was steeling himself for whatever he was about to walk into.

Whenever you were in conversation with someone, it was a battle of wills. About making them feel, act, or think a certain way. There was no transaction truly pure out there, nothing for the sake of simple conversation. Everything had value, otherwise, what was the point?

At every exchange, there was a winner and there was a loser.

And, well, if you were to argue this is wrong…sorry to say, you're the loser.

Grow up; this is how the world works.

Coriolanus would call the conversation with Lucy Gray in the back of the bar a warm-up exercise. It wasn't real. There were no accrued points here. He was sniffing her out, and she was doing the same, pushing boundaries, testing the waters. If one must assign an outcome, Coriolanus would say they tied.

Neither one walked out of that meeting with the entire upper hand. There had been concessions on both ends, but there had also been wins.

The important thing, Coriolanus mused, was to make sure that the next meeting was unequivocally a win for him.

If he let Lucy Gray twist around him again and was rushing to play defense, he would already have lost.

She had the home ground. She'd invited him to their second rendezvous. She clearly had some sort of plot, or else what would be the point? Coriolanus knew he was going in at a disadvantage, which meant that he needed to take control of whatever it was meant to be first to set the tone, right from the start, and force Lucy Gray to follow his lead.

When Lucy Gray stepped back for a song to charm one of the waiters into bringing up some water for everyone, and the oldest women of the troupe sat down on a stool to sing a ballad, Coriolanus swam his way through the sea of people to the bar in the back.

Getting drunk was a poor idea, but getting buzzed was exactly the right move. He needed to have that edge, and he found his brain fired fastest when sometimes even he could not see the path it was taking.

Something in his brain ran faster if you gave it a little juice, and it had never been wrong.

He liked to think it was his subconscious waking up, analyzing scenes before he could even think through what was happening, pushing him forward, a firm nudge towards his continual success.

He attempted to wave a bartender over, but of course, he was more concerned with making sure the Academy girls were well-satiated, meaning it was near impossible.

"Coriolanus, you up for a shot?" Gaius asked with a wide, toothy grin a few stools down.

Coriolanus ignored him for a moment, glancing back at the bartender who was doing everything in his power to ignore Coriolanus and the other men sidled up next to him. It seemed Gaius had managed to draw the other bartender in with a crisp $100, and he was stuffing it into his pocket as Gaius counted off heads.

"What's your poison?" Coriolanus asked, deciding if he was going to get anything, unfortunately, it seemed like it was going to be this.

Gaius' grin curled across his face like a Cheshire cat, "It's my own special blend."

Oh god, save me now.

Coriolanus shrugged, "Sure."

He didn't like partaking in some unknown alcohol, but it was a shot. At least he knew that. Alcohol and some sort of mixer; right? And if he was lucky...mostly mixer. And if it seemed particularly noxious, he could just sip it and take the jokes at his expense, because at least then he could control it.

Coriolanus craned his neck, trying to watch what the bartender was taking out. He was so focused that he didn't even notice Livia crawling up behind him. She slapped a hand on his shoulder and Coriolanus jumped, spinning around and locking his jaw.

"Scam," He sneered.

"What's that, Breen?" She asked, ignoring Coriolanus completely. Coriolanus whipped his head around to see that the shots were already poured.

Fan-fucking-tastic.

It didn't look odious or dangerous. It looked…well, almost harmless. Like a lemon drop or something.

"It's my own special blend," Gaius said, but when he said 'special blend' he rotated his hips in a particularly cringy way, something Coriolanus hoped to never see again. It wasn't sexual, just dumb looking, "For the boys only," He added, thumping his chest like a gorilla.

"Ew, I'm bored," Livia rolled her eyes, detaching her claws from Coriolanus's shoulder.

Coriolanus was one of the last to be handed his shot glass, meaning he only had a moment to give it a quick sniff, but the stench of cigarettes was so heavy in the air that it masked any sharp whiffs of liquor. It was brown, but that didn't mean anything. A strong whisky could be just as dangerous as a clear vodka.

Definitely sip, he thought to himself with a raised eyebrow, holding up his glass amongst a handful of his classmates, idly playing along.

He intended only the tiniest of drops, to just dart his tongue out along the rim and make a quick exit, but as the glass was lifted to his lips, someone's hands shot out underneath him and upturned the entire contents into his mouth.

Coriolanus sputtered and coughed, nearly choking on it, as the taste hit the back of his throat.

It was gag-worthy. No discernible flavors other than 'drunk', and too muddled to even try to guess what the original booze in it had been.

Liquid splashed all over his face, and down his chest. Anger ignited; it would be impossible to scrub it out by tomorrow, and he certainly did not have the ability to just send it off to the dry cleaners like everyone else, meaning he'd have to beg Tigirs to take care of it early.

"What the hell?" Coriolanus grasped the bar's edge, turning around to see Dennis Fling with a mischievous smile on his face.

"I saw you lookin' at it, Coriolanus! I knew you were going to pussy-foot out of it."

"I will strangle you in your sleep, Fling," Coriolanus said, still hacking, as the shot settled uncomfortably in his stomach, "Please, Gaius, what did I just ingest?"

"My speci-,"

"No," Coriolanus grouched, all pleasantness vanished, "Just shut up and tell me." He was too rattled to charm it out of Gaius.

"Fine," Gaius pouted, "You're no fun. I just a brotherly bonding thing, you know, to not ask-," At Coriolanus's narrowed glare, he relented, "I started with a Cold-Stone Stinger, you know, Jagermeister, Rumplemintz, and Goldschläger-,"

Coriolanus knew he was in for a terrible time, as Gaius had just listed three of the absolute worst alcohols known to man, and he wasn't confident it was going to get better.

"-But I thought that was a bit too boring so I added in hot sauce and 100-proof Bourbon."

Coriolanus stared at Gaius, nearly uncomprehendingly, "So there are no mixers in this?" He asked, his temperature rising.

"There's hot sauce!" Gaius protested, as though that was suitable, "Look if I'm gunna pay alcohol prices, it better all be alcohol, right?"

"Damn, man!" Pup hit his shoulder, "This shit is heavy!"

"And it was a double. I mean, make it worth our time for our refined pallets," He teased, as many of the Academy students here had done their fair share of drinking already.

Coriolanus wanted to scream.

This was bad. Not at all to his plan.

He could feel the tingle as it soaked into his bones and tried, fruitlessly, to wave the bartender over, desperate for a cup of water.

He was once again ignored.

He stalked back to the table, rubbing his face, "Clemmie, can you please order me a glass of water?"

"Can't you do it?" Clemesia asked, raising an eyebrow.

"I've tried. The bartenders are ignoring me."

"Just slip them a few hundred. That's what the rest of us are doing," Persephone said with a casual shrug.

Coriolanus inhaled hard, "Please? Gaius force-fed me some of his 'mystery shot' and it was awful."

"Mistake number one is accepting anything from Gaius, even if he didn't make it himself," Clemensia said, picking up her purse from the table, "I'll take pity on you as long as you promise you'll be my history partner for the next project."

Coriolanus gave her a lazy, as close to a friendly smile as he could give, "Aren't I always?"

"Sure, but Io's trying to get you, ever since you aced that bio presentation together…" She trailed off, biting her lip.

"What do you have to fear from Io Jasper?" Sejanus laughed out loud, "Coriolanus and Clemensia are like peanut butter and jelly. Best of friends," He teased, twisting his fingers together. And it was true to a certain extent…if Coriolanus had to pick a 'best friend' from this rowdy group, Clemmie was a good choice. He'd take her over Sejanus any day.

"Fine, but just because you can't say no to those puppy-dog eyes," She teased, "Let's top off, Seph," She said, nudging her friend's shoulder.

It wouldn't matter.

Coriolanus shoved a handful of fries in his mouth and drank the entire glass of water as soon as Clemensia brought it over, and then half of the pitcher she brought with it, but he could already feel his mental faculties hazing over.

Damn you, Gaius. You'll pay for this.

He stayed quiet the rest of the set, internally panicked and very aware of everything and his own movements, because he knew that he wasn't as quick on the draw, as swift in his actions, or as controlled as he often was. He was…he was…

Drunk?

Yeah… Fuck; Coriolanus might just be drunk.

And he'd tried to slow that train, to whatever success water and starch could do. He saw Apollo in a corner, bent over, ill - surely from that dreadful shot. And Gaius was absolutely plastered; he was with it enough to recognize when someone else was totally off the deep end.

He could feel the way his cheeks flushed and the air felt warmer. His fingers felt heavy like they were weighted with concrete, as he watched in slow-motion the way he reached for another wing, blinking slowly, like everything was being played back in half-time.

It was only with the scattered applause that he realized the second set was done. He managed to position his head the right way with enough time to see Lucy Gray waving, amongst the Covey, as they all stepped off for a short break.

The broom closet…

Coriolanus stood up abruptly with less tact than usual, muttering something about bathrooms and taking his leave.

He had to go. He couldn't let her win the battle by disqualification, even though he was ill-prepared for it. But he had to do with this what he could.

He couldn't keep Lucy Gray waiting long.

He found it easy enough, as there weren't many non-descript closets near the exit. No one took notice of him, busy enough to be in their own heads as they carted up more bottles or mopped up spills.

It was a small space; just barely enough for the cleaning supplies, much less to hold two people. So, as it was, they were chest-to-chest.

Lucy Gray's hand darted around and locked the door behind them.

"You came," She said, mildly surprised.

"Thought I'd chicken?" He asked.

"Sure did, sugar. You Academy folk talk a whole lotta talk," She chuckled, "But I haven't yet seen anything to prove you mean it."

"I'm different than the rest," Coriolanus said, mildly offended she thought he was ready to bolt, "I'm not scared."

"You sure ain't," Lucy Gray agreed, grinning up at him.

She barely came up to his chin. Coriolanus stared down at her, hardly an inch between their bodies. Her cheeks were bright red, and there was a flush from moving and dancing on stage. He could almost see her heart still beating fast, fluttering, from the last song. Her hair was frizzy, but something about the wildness of it, the movement it hinted at, pulled him in.

And her eyes.

Coriolanus stared into them; they were so dark, nearly black. Still, there was so much depth, so much more than the blank-eyed looks he was used to from girls that often chased him. She was silent for a beat, examining Coriolanus. She tilted her head, and he watched her tongue dart out and flicker over her lip, and then she pressed them together.

It just about drove Coriolanus crazy.

Possessed with an emotion he didn't think he'd ever felt, and fueled by alcohol puppeting his motions in ways he usually would not, Coriolanus felt his body pitching forward. He was worried he was about to tip over, but his brain had hijacked his body without his consent, moving his arms to grasp Lucy Gray's shoulders, holding her there as he pressed his lips to hers.

Lucy Gray responded immediately, which was the only thing that kept Coriolanus from jumping away from her, horrified by his own actions.

But you want her, don't you?

This voice in his head wasn't his father's.

It took a long moment to realize it was…his own.

Yes, part of him whispered back, guilty and warm and bothered, Yes, I do.

It was like the part of him that was poised and put-together was shoved unceremoniously into the backseat, unable to do anything but watch and wonder.

The truth of this shocked him.

He'd never…desired anyone before, not like this.

While he knew his classmates knocked boots on the regular, he wasn't like them. He didn't think it was some big romantic thing where he needed to wait, it was a keen sense of disinterest prior. It was seen by Coriolanus as an irritation, a distraction to more important things. He was just glad that Senajus, shy around girls, wasn't hanging socks on their doorknob every weekend like others did.

He sometimes wondered if he should just do it with any of the willing, whimpering girls and get it over with, so the lack thereof wasn't hanging over his head, but he'd always dismissed that, worrying that certain girls would get the wrong idea. Affectionate ideas. The sort that made him want to gag.

So it had just never come to pass.

There were rumors, of course, ones he let wander around. That he was very picky, that he was always a good lay, that it was a privilege to be invited into his bed…the works. It pushed him in a better light than a virgin, and he knew damn well how he'd be treated if that truth ever came out, so Coriolanus didn't attempt to dissuade such whispers.

But Lucy Gray?

He wanted her in a way that was unfamiliar to him. A sort of primal push, something he was beginning to wonder if he even possessed. He knew animalistic; and brutal. It was everything else he did…except this.

He was glad for the beat, for his hands moving on their own.

This was an opportunity, Coriolanus decided, he'd be a fool to pass up. It was obvious Lucy Gray wanted him just as much as he did her.

Lucy Gray's fingers grasped his shirt, pulling it out from where it was neatly tucked in, fingers cold against his stomach as she explored. Every touch of her fingertips felt like she was setting fire to his skin, leaving scorch marks wherever she went. He was half sure if he looked in the mirror, he'd see his body crackling like a volcano from how she made every part of him feel like it was bursting with fire.

He pushed her against the one wall that was free of anything; as stated, the space was cramped, but her shoulders fit squarely between a wire shelf and the door handles.

His hand shoved down the fabric on her shoulder and her bra strap, revealing soft, unblemished skin.

He wanted to taste her.

He detached his lips to press them against her jugular, his breath hot as his incisors skimmed over her veins. It was warm and slim and Lucy Gray grasped his hair in her fingers, knotting his curls around her hand. Not to stop him, put to press his mouth harder.

He nipped experimentally and elicited a groan from her lips.

Coriolanus bit harder.

He expected her to pull away and perhaps slap him, or scold him for his harshness, but she just seemed to shudder underneath him.

He wondered if he could puncture the skin, lap her blood…he was sure it would taste just like honey.

Lucy Gray's hands were on his belt buckle, and Coriolanus realized he was sporting what would be an embarrassing hard-on if he wasn't seconds away from fixing it. He grasped her absurd skirt, pushing it up and up and up (there was far too much fabric for it to be practical), grasping onto the lace of her underwear.

"We gotta be quick…and quiet…" Lucy Gray stuttered as he tugged them down, not caring if he ripped it. The thought of Lucy Gray returning to the stage sans underwear, his come dripping down her thighs drove him just about mad.

Coriolanus paused, listening.

The Covey had started playing again.

"Won't they be missing you?" He asked. It would be obvious, wouldn't it, if they both ran out of here?

"Naw, not for…" Lucy Gray pressed an ear to the door, listening hard, "Not for another ten minutes. Maude Ivory will do her two songs and then Carmine and Barb will do a duet, then I'm back on." She said, "So giddy-up, cowboy," She teased, "I ain't looking for romance right now."

"Good," Coriolanus said sharply, "Because I don't give that."

Coriolanus was glad for his efforts in gym class as he picked Lucy Gray up off the ground, pressing her between himself and the wall and helping her hook her leg around his back. She grabbed the shelf unit to her right with one hand to help herself with the leverage and pulled one of Coriolanus's hands around with her other, biting down to muffle herself as he sank into her.

The haze of alcohol still swam around his mind, but it seemed to make these moments burst like fireworks in the back of his head.

He understood now why Gaius chased tails; this feeling, this pressure? It was heavenly.

Lucy Gray pressed her head back against the stone wall, and he could feel the vibrations of her moaning against his palm. Even just that made him twitch inside of her, desperate for more.

Some part of him, some latent part that had been awake while all the boys shared conquests or watched R-rated movies, took over and Coriolanus let his hips move both of them.

Lucy Gray seemed pleased with the performance, keeping a firm bite on his hand to keep from making noise. Coriolanus found himself almost letting out a guttural moan too and pressed his lips back against her neck, moaning into her hair.

He set a bruising pace from the start; sharp snaps of his hips pressing as deep into her as he could, pulling himself all the way back before jolting forward, each movement causing her legs to constrict around him, her knuckles white as she held on the best she could.

"Oh, baby…" She crooned, her words mumbled inelegantly. He knew it was just a term of generic endearment, but this set him toward finishing. Lucy Gray's body quivered in his arms like putty, her eyes rolling back as his pace quickened, biting down on his hand so hard it did draw blood as she finished.

He felt her grasp him, and Coriolanus knew he wasn't long for this moment. He managed three more thrusts. He had assumed he would have better control; that he was six or seven more away. His orgasm caught him by surprise. He'd meant to have pulled out, but he couldn't stop himself; it was too tempting, it felt too inviting not to finish in her.

He came with a strangled shout, an elongated 'fuck' that he finished with a low hiss.

He set her feet back down on the ground gingerly.

Immediate shame filled his stomach like acid.

What the fuck had he done?

"Oh, I'm on birth control," Lucy Gray said flippantly, as though reading his mind.

He looked up, a sour expression on his face, "You plan on fucking someone in a store room tonight or I was I just lucky?" He asked bitterly.

Lucy Gray snorted, "We had itches to scratch. I wouldn't look too far into it either way."

When Coriolanus did not let up his narrowed glare, as though trying to riddle her out, she shrugged, "Was going steady with Billy Taupe."

"The one in the band?" Coriolanus asked, jealously pulsing through him. Really? The one who looked like Remus Lupin on crack?

"I know, I know," Lucy Gray said with a roll of her eyes, "What was I thinkin', right? Anyway, found out he's been screwing Mayfair Lipp. The richest girl in our school, though I'm sure she barely holds a candle to your wealth, Snow," Lucy Gray continued, using a small compact mirror to start to fix her hair.

"So I was a revenge-fuck?"

"Naw, I'm done with him. Don't even need him to know. Just wanted the feeling of him off me," She shuddered, "But I didn't hunt you out. Wasn't determined to find someone tonight. I'd call this…a happy coincidence."

She reached for her backpack, grasping for a makeup bag, and as she did, a folder spilled out.

Coriolanus picked it up.

"You go to the Districts?" He said, staring at it. Before now, he could have perhaps pretended that she was going somewhere else, somewhere...more befitting of his status. That she was from out of town. That she did go to that artsy school. That she was even fucking homeschooled by celebrity tutors. But this...the insignia burned into his brain.

No one in their right mind would go here by choice.

The Districts was the ghetto name for the poorest school in town. Everyone called it that, so much to the point that Coriolanus couldn't even recall what the real title of it was, and he didn't care enough to learn. It was so overcrowded that you were assigned a numbers one through twelve and were in a bubble of people all assigned the same number. You could apparently go your whole four years and never mingle with someone from a different numbered category. Same teachers, same building, same lunch room, same everything. It may as well be twelve different high schools in one communal building.

"Where else would I go?" Lucy Gray asked sarcastically, "My parents used to home-school me, but my Aunt thinks I need stability. I'm not too impressed with it so far." She said snidly.

Coriolanus didn't ask where her parents were. Chances were they were dead or in jail; both basically the same.

There was a wave of clapping.

"I think that's my cue." Lucy Gray said, shaking out her shoulders, "I had a real good time tonight, darlin'. I hope you did too."

Then, before Coriolanus could think of anything clever to say, she walked out of the closet like nothing had happened. He stared down at her hand; it was chewed, pinpricked with tiny indents. One broke the skin and a single bead of blood sat on his palm. He, thoughtlessly, took the pad of his finger and swiped it, chewing the inside of his cheek with raging thoughts. It switched from fury to elation to shame and guilt and then back to the beginning in one unrelenting roll of too much, too many. It was enough to choke him.

She was long gone now, surely no one would make the connection if he returned to his seat. The only thing lingering was her perfume.

It smelled like roses.