Rowdy Krazimir, 17
District Nine
Rowdy Krazimir had attended and planned hundreds of parties in his life, but his idea of a party was clearly very different from what the Capitolites thought a party was.
Where any party he'd attended had been dark, dingy- usually in some abandoned house, or somebody's basement, or even in the middle of the woods -the Capitol had gone all out. Despite the haphazard assortment of tables, chairs and people, the foyer of the Tribute Center was beautiful. Adorned in shining gold and white- strands of pearls and gems strung from the soaring ceilings, Rowdy craned his neck to watch as they swayed slightly, light bouncing off the stones in all directions. He wondered how much they were worth- it was certainly possible they were real, and if he wasn't set to enter the Games tomorrow, Rowdy might've just gotten up there to find out for himself.
Pushing further into the currently rather sparse crowd Rowdy found himself amused by the Capitolite getups. Their outfits were absurd, even by his standards, the women in stiff dresses so wide as if to hold the rest of the attendees at a distance. They clustered around the food laden tables, chattering and laughing with each other like an annoying flock of birds just past sunrise.
"Excuse me sir, would you care for a drink?" a server asked, as they glided through the crowd towards Rowdy.
"Certainly. I'm upset I didn't find you sooner, in fact," Rowdy responded, eagerly taking two glasses of champagne.
"There's a table just that way, if you prefer to serve yourself," the server explained, gesturing in the general direction of Rowdy's promised land. He nodded eagerly, knocking back the golden champagne- it was weak, but it didn't taste awful, and at least they were providing drinks at all. Placing the empty glass back on the tray, Rowdy continued to wander.
It seemed his allies were nowhere to be found, not that Rowdy minded. They weren't exactly the most engaging crowd, but Rowdy didn't doubt they'd be entertaining at a party. Forte had been all over him the entirety of training, which was amusing, if not exhausting. She wasn't exactly the sharpest, if she hadn't realized that Rowdy didn't swing her direction. Barbie didn't shut up, chattering on endlessly with stories of home and her feats, which despite her utter conviction seemed to be entirely inane to him. And Aneira couldn't help but admire Barbie with starry eyes- buying it all without a second thought.
Idiots. They were all idiots.
Not that Rowdy minded. Sure they were exhausting and annoying to be around, but idiots were exactly what he wanted from any allies he procured. Idiots who would follow him without question. Idiots who would walk directly into the line of fire for him. It didn't matter what happened to them; they meant nothing to him.
(Forte, Barbie, Aneira… they only served to put him closer to getting home. Closer to living the life of his dreams- away from his father, rich as could be, adored by the Capitol- what more could he possibly want?
Rowdy wanted to watch it all burn.
The world had burned him, had turned him into this. The other tributes, his father, anybody who'd ever wronged him. They were nothing but toys, nothing but things to throw into the fire. To watch and laugh as they went up in flames, and to kick the embers out when it was done.
The world would regret ever creating Rowdy Krazimir, when he was done with it.)
Wandering aimlessly, Rowdy eventually found himself exactly where he wished to be- the bar. There was a table laid out with all sorts of punches and things, but those didn't interest him, not as much as the crowded bar did at least. Instead, he squeezed into the bar, finding himself a seat.
"What can I get you?" a bartender inquired.
"Whatever's strongest," Rowdy responded, downing his other glass of champagne. "Whatever's stronger than this stuff at least."
The bartender chuckled, and moved away. He took a moment to survey the party again- there were quite a few more people now, clearly the party was picking up at this point. He could pick a number of the other tributes out of the crowd- most of the Careers, some of that one big alliance with all the little kids. And curiously, as Rowdy searched through the crowd, something caught his eye- more accurately somebody did. One of the outer girls- Twelve maybe? He wasn't quite sure, off in a corner. Her gaze pierced his own, dark and intense, and scrutinizing. A shiver ran up his spine, it reminded Rowdy too much of his fathers own disappointed glare, and he quickly looked away.
"Here you go," the bartender said, sliding him the drink. It was some kind of colourful concoction- blue and purple, with a little paper umbrella. He took a large sip- it tasted like ass, both too strong and too sweet, but that was precisely what he desired. The bartender raised an eyebrow, and he gave them a hearty thumbs up.
Rowdy continued to sip his drink, watching unnoticed for a while longer, until a familiar figure pushed her way out of the crowd- Barbie, looking rather unfortunate as ever.
"Rowdy, there ya are!" Barbie exclaimed with a relieved grin, taking the seat next to him. "What're ya doin' over here all alone? Forte's been lookin for ya."
"My dear ally, I am attempting to get drunk in peace," Rowdy responded, finishing his drink off in one big gulp, waving to the bartender. "Can I get another one of these?"
The bartender nodded, and Rowdy turned his attention back to Barbie. "So… why do you look like that?"
"Huh?" Barbie exclaimed. "Wh- like what?"
"All unfortunate."
Barbie's face scrunched up as if the very idea pained her. "I don't look unfortunate."
"You so do. Clearly something went wrong, you look like a kicked puppy. What, did Aneira deny you a dance?"
"No, Verity did," Barbie admitted. "I asked if she'd dance with me and then she ditched me after one song."
"Your mentor, Verity?" Rowdy asked incredulously. "You wanted to dance with her?"
"Of course I did, she's, like, smokin' hot! And I can appreciate an older woman."
"You are so desperate for pussy that it's almost embarrassing," Rowdy laughed. "God… what are we gonna do with you?"
"I am not desperate!" Barbie pouted, spinning in her chair. "I'm just- she's just nice, and she's pretty and I wanted to dance with her!"
"She's also rich and your mentor," Rowdy snorted. "Do you want something to ease your woes?"
"Sure, whatever," Barbie grumbled.
The bartender placed another drink in front of him, and Rowdy leaned over the countertop whispering into his ear.
"Give me two shots of your nastiest stuff," Rowdy instructed, patting the amused bartender on the shoulder. Rowdy gulped down most of his second drink before the two shots materialized before them, Barbie eyeing the drinks with a nervous look. Rowdy slid one towards her haphazardly, the clear liquid spilling onto the countertop, and she took it, peering through the clear liquid.
"I propose a toast!" Rowdy declared, sloppily raising his shot towards Barbie. "A toast to tonight. Even though you're sad, gay, and pussyless, we shall persevere! Do not let your shortcomings ruin this good time, which is greatly improved by an open bar, of which we will take full advantage! To alcohol!"
Rowdy thrust his shot glass toward Barbie, clinking his glass against hers hard. Without hesitation, he knocked the shot back- it burned awfully, but had a slightly pleasant smoothness as it went down. He watched as Barbie did the same, although she grimaced heavily.
"Don't you worry, Barbie. You're partying with me tonight. I'll take good care of us," Rowdy said with a grin, wrapping a heavy arm around her shoulders.
(And god, if he didn't intend to party his way one last time.)
Loezan Feyer, 16
District Five
Loezan's foot tapped impatiently against the floor in time with the music. She'd gotten most of her decorating done, before being forced to get ready for the Party, but she wasn't sure there'd be enough time to finish it. She'd gotten so close to pulling it off, and yet, everything had been ruined by this stupid lame party which had a million people at it, all of whom had proven to be boring, annoying, or both. And it wouldn't be anywhere near as fun as her party.
"Are you okay?" Sabai asked, a plate stacked with food clutched between her hands. "You seem nervous."
"I want to go back to decorating for Klein's birthday party," Loezan explained. "And I want out of this stupid dress."
A peculiar, almost sour look washed over Sabai's face- her mouth turning down at the corners, but it was gone just a moment later. "Well, I cannot exactly help with either of those things right now. Could I offer you a piece of cake in this trying time instead?"
Loezan cracked a smile- Sabai was impossible to remain annoyed around, and this was just more evidence to the fact. She was kind and easy, unlike many of her family members. She didn't need to impress Sabai, didn't need to prove she was capable- Sabai didn't care.
(In Sabai's eyes, it seemed like she was always capable.)
"Yeah, I'll have some cake," Loezan sighed, and Sabai passed her a slice. They'd been camping around the buffet table for twenty minutes now, without any sightings of the others. For some reason Klein had been taken for party prep early, which had given her some time to start decorating, but not enough. Ugh, how annoying the Capitol proved to be. Again.
"Oh hey, there you guys are," Neith said, wandering up to them with their own plate of food. It was entirely filled with little hot dog looking things. "I was lookin' for yous."
"It seems you've been successful, Neith," Sabai noted, and Neith nodded eagerly.
"Yeah, I found pigs in blankets, they're my favourite thing ever!" Neith exclaimed. "Do you want some?"
Loezan shook her head, shoving a bite of cake into her face- it was wonderfully soft and it practically melted in her mouth, coating her tastebuds with fresh strawberry flavoring.
"I'm okay, I have plenty of food," Sabai declined politely.
"That's okay, more for me!"
Neith proceeded to pop a pig in their mouth, Loezan giggling a little. She'd never been to a real party- she hadn't been old enough to attend the ones Bodhi threw, and even once she was she'd had to look after the youngest kids during them. But this party, she suspected, was nothing like Bodhi's. His had loud booming music, voices echoing through the halls of their compound… this was a nice party. A clean, classy, fancy-pants party, not the kind of place Loezan ever thought she'd find herself.
At least the food wasn't bad. A small comfort, in the face of the Games.
The Games. Those goddamn games, which had hung over training, the threatening end to their good time in the Capitol. Both hers, and the other tributes- except for those stupid ass Careers, who mingled around their very own table just a few feet away. She just wanted to run away, run away to their party, with her friends, and think nothing of the Careers, or the Games, or what would face her in the morning.
(She wasn't afraid of them, though. Of the Careers, or the Games. No, she would face this with her head held high, just as she'd faced every other challenge in her life.)
The Games would not break Loezan Feyer, that she was sure of.
"So what are you going to… do?" Sabai asked, as Loezan polished off the rest of the cake.
"I dunno."
"Like, what are you going to do now? Maybe get another slice of cake," Neith suggestd.
"No, we're talking about Klein's birthday party, which you can't tell him about," Loezan giggled. "I only got it halfway setup and I'm not sure when I'll be able to leave here to finish it."
"Well elevators go both ways- I'm sure you could just take it back upstairs," Neith reasoned- incredibly sound logic. She couldn't argue with the fact that the elevators, indeed, went both ways.
"True," Loezan nodded. "But what if somebody notices I'm gone?"
"Like Klein? It seems like there's a simple solution for this, you could just distract him," Sabai reasoned. "Although he doesn't seem to be here yet."
"No, but distracting him seems like a good plan. How about we enjoy the party a little more before I make my great escape?"
"Certainly. What do you wish to do?"
Loezan pondered for a moment- there didn't seem to be much to do other than eating or talking, and she was already doing both of those things. But, just as she finished that thought, the music picked up in tempo- the lights dimming, as if calling the party-goers to the floor to dance.
"How about… we dance?" Loezan declared. "The music is dancing music now, not boring music."
"I don't know how to dance," Sabai admitted.
"Me neither," Neith chimed in.
"That's fine, we can just go have fun on the dance floor!" Loezan declared. "Let's go!"
Loezan seized each of their hands, and led them through the crowd. It seemed like plenty of other people had gotten the same idea, many of the young Capitolites flocking to the floor alongside plenty of other tributes. Loezan found a patch of currently unoccupied floor and started bopping along with the sounds of the bouncy tunes. A few of the lavishly dressed Capitolites around them were singing along to the orchestra's rendition of what Loezan was realizing might've been a Capitol song about pink ponies.
"What do I do?!" Sabai yelled into her ear.
"Move your body!" Loezan yelled back. "You don't need to be good at it, you just need to move!"
"Like a bug?"
"Sure!"
Sabai joined in, a grin spreading across her face. Neith bopped their head to the music, plate of blanketed pigs still in their hand.
"See, isn't this fun?" Loezan asked, Sabai nodding eagerly.
"I've never done anything like this before!"
"Well now you are!"
Sabai's smile widened- bright as the sun, even in the dim lighting. Loezan took her hands, synchronizing her movements with Sabai's.
"What are you doing?"
"Now we're dancing together!" Loezan declared, "Another thing you can check off your bucket list!"
They danced for a while, their hands remaining locked together, laughing and ignoring everyone else in the room but each other. It was hot, and sweaty, and loud, but Loezan had never had this much fun in her life.
(She'd never had this much fun with a friend before.)
Soon the music slowed, and the lights brightened again. Loezan stopped, beads of sweat dripping down her face.
"So, what did you think?" Loezan panted.
"That was fun, if a little strange," Sabai responded, equally as out of breath. "I don't think I ever would've done that alone."
"No?"
"No," Sabai shook her head, giving her a soft smile. "Thank you for showing me so many new things over the past few days."
"I could say the same for you," Loezan grinned, a strange, warm feeling spreading through her chest. She liked Sabai, liked their allies, and she didn't want to leave this place. These people, this freedom, the only good things the Capitol had given her.
(If only this were a fairytale. If only Loezan could stay here forever, happy as could be.)
"Hey, there's Credence," Neith said, reemerging from the crowd with a refilled plate of pigs in blankets, pointing out their ally on the sidelines of the room. Loezan hadn't even noticed them leaving. "Klein's probaby around too."
"Probably, let's go talk to them," Loezan nodded, navigating through the crowd, hand still curiously entwined with Sabai's- she wouldn't let go, not as long as Sabai held on. Eventually they popped out of the crowd, just before Credence.
"Hey Creeds," Loezan exclaimed. "Whatcha up to?"
"Huh? Oh, nothing much," Credence responded, snapping out of whatever brain funk they were in, gesturing to their crutch with their glass- it looked like the champagne that the servers were handing out. "This isn't… exactly my kind of event."
"You'd be good in that crowd when everyone's dancing," Neith suggested. "You could keep people back with your cane. Just… whack 'em!"
Credence laughed- a high, clear sound. "This is true, Neith, but even with it I'm a poor dancer."
"That's okay, you don't need to dance. I have a mission for you. A super important top secret mission," Loezan announced, leaning into him and lowering her voice for dramatic effect.
"Oh?"
"I need you to distract Klein for a little bit so we can go finish setting up the party decorations," Loezan explained. "Can you do that?"
"Sure, yes," Credence agreed- Loezan could swear she saw their cheeks flushing. "Do you… happen to know where Klein is?"
"At the bar," Neith informed them quickly. "He's been there since he got here."
"You knew he was here the whole time and didn't tell me?!" Loezan gasped. "What the hell, Neith."
"Well, sorry. You never asked," Neith shrugged nonchalantly, scratching their head with a sheepish grin. They were… strange, Loezan could acknowledge that much. But something about them was deeply endearing despite their oddities. Loezan liked them a lot, more than she thought she would when they first joined the alliance. They'd been strange- cold in their observations almost, but it seemed like that was simply how Neith operated, a quirk of their personality rather than a personal slight against anybody in particular.
"Okay, so you distract Klein, we go decorate," Loezan nodded. "Does that sound like a good plan, team?"
"Certainly," Sabai agreed. Credence nodded along, his lips pressed firmly together. Loezan stifled a laugh at Credence's rather terrifed expression. He'd been quiet for all the days they'd spent together, and even more so around Klein. Loezan had chalked that up to Klein being so loud that nobody else could hardly get a word in. She almost wished she could stick around to see how exactly Credence ended up distracting him, but alas, she had a party to decorate.
"It's fine, I'm gonna steal some more shit though first. I'll be right behind you guys," Neith said.
"Okay, just join us on the fifth floor when you're ready, okay? That goes for both of you."
Neith gave her a thumbs up, before disappearing into the crowd again. Credence hauled himself to his feet, leaning on their crutch heavily, as they began making their way towards Klein- she felt like she was watching a soldier go off to war, in a way. A war she could only hope that Credence would win.
"Ready?" Loezan said, turning to Sabai.
"Ready," Sabai nodded assuredly.
And with that, they took off for the elevators, hands still joined.
(Loezan didn't want it any other way.)
Credence Voltaire, 18
District Three
It took Credence longer than he'd like to admit to make his way across the party floor.
It wasn't like they could help it- all of the constantly moving people, the deep seated pain in their legs, the faint buzzing from the champagne, it was all working against them. They hoped by the time they got to the bar that Klein wouldn't be gone- it was their task to keep him distracted after all, and if they couldn't even find him how were they supposed to fulfill their duty?
But, thankfully, as they finally broke through the crowd, they spotted him. Back turned, his dark hair tumbling over his shoulders, contrasting his deep red silk shirt. Credence wiped their hands on their pants, and attempted to swallow the lump seemingly caught in their throat. Klein made them nervous- more so than any of their other allies. He didn't know why exactly, the boy simply had a presence- an intensity, a sort of fire he'd never seen in anybody else.
No, that wasn't his task. His task wasn't to think about that right now, Credence's task was to distract as naturally as possible. Act natural.
He steeled himself and pushed on.
There was an open seat next to Klein, which they attempted to slide into. Instead of sitting though, they tripped over their own feet, nearly toppling straight into the bar.
"Woah, woah," Klein exclaimed, grabbing them before they could smash their head on the counter. "Careful there, don't go hurting yourself."
(How could they have possibly fucked up this quickly? They couldn't even sit down like a normal fucking person- why were their allies even keeping them around?)
"Sorry," Credence said, voice cracking slightly.
"No need to apologize," Klein said, waving his hand haphazardly as he helped Credence actually sit on the barstool this time. "I'm just glad somebody found me. Where is everyone?"
"The kids are on the dance floor. They told me you were here," Credence explained. "I- uh, well, I don't exactly have the ability to keep up with them, so I figured I'd come keep you company, if that's alright with you…?"
"Certainly," Klein grinned, warmly- his face was flushed, and a glimmer flickered in his eyes. He was drunk. Or at the very least he was getting there. Credence wasn't sure if this would make his job harder, or easier- but either way it seemed like Klein was in a good mood. He certainly hadn't smiled this openly during training.
"So, d'ya want something to drink?" Klein asked after a few beats. "They've got some pretty neat stuff here."
Credence paused- they'd never done much drinking, they were too busy working to attend many parties. That was Jaimari's thing, decidedly. The last party they'd been to… well, it hadn't exactly ended well. Jaimari… Credence had to push him out of his mind, somehow, couldn't have him ruining things even now
"Yeah, I'll have whatever you're drinking," Credence settled on. Klein looked surprised, but waved to the bartender, talking to him for a moment before he walked away again.
"So uh, you don't drink much?" Klein asked after another few moments of silence. "You don't strike me as the type."
"No, I don't," Credence shook their head. "I'm not… how do I put this? A partier?"
Klein barked a laugh, startling Credence somewhat- he was loud normally, but even more so now. He was almost shouting over the admittedly overwhelming background noise. "Nah, I get it. Me neither usually."
"So what have you been doing here all night?"
"Well, the music is a bit too loud for my taste. So, I've been… enjoying myself, I suppose. I don't like goin' out of my way for drinks but if they're there… well I might as well. And then I just kind of never left this spot, and now you're here, so now we get to drink together instead!"
"Aren't you worried about tomorrow?"
"Tomorrow? I ain' worried a bit, my friend," Klein shrugged, his posture slouched and all too casual. He really didn't seem to care a bit- he was utterly and totally relaxed, even in the face of death.
(Even Credence couldn't say that of themselves. They weren't resigned- they wanted to fight, but how? And now facing the Games, as well… they were certain they'd only cut what little time they did have left shorter. The least they could hope for was a quick death. They didn't want to wither, didn't want to have every bit of energy and life sapped from their body until there was nothing left of what Credence Voltaire had been. They had no option but to try.)
Their drinks arrived, at some point- giant glasses of amber liquid. Credence peered into theirs, curiously.
"What is it?"
"Beer," Klein laughed. "My favourite. It's weird if you've never tried it before but you get used to it."
Credence took a little sip of their drink- it was… strange. They smacked their lips, the alcohol warming their chest as it traveled downwards.
"Bread," Credence remarked. "It tastes like bread."
"Well that's because it's made out of bread," Klein explained, taking a sip of his own drink. "Yummy alcoholic bread."
Credence chuckled- perhaps drinking wasn't as bad as they thought. At least, they felt that way so far- they didn't understand the formalities, but from spending time around Jai, he knew there were some social components to drinking.
"Hey, how about we take these to go and grab some air?" Klein proposed.
"Hm?"
"It's warm in here," Klein explained further, cocking his head towards the doors. "And I can barely hear a fucking thing. Let's go out."
"Oh, yeah," Credence agreed- it certainly was warm, and loud. The music, the chattering voices, it was all a little much. "That, uh, sounds like a good plan to me."
Klein grinned, hopping down from his seat, Credence following suit. Despite leaning on their crutch, they still swayed- maybe they really were a lightweight.
"I'll carry your drink if you want," Klein offered. "I'd hate for you to spill it."
"Oh- are you sure?"
"Of course."
Klein grabbed their drinks, and gestured for them to follow. They snaked along the edge of the room, moving towards the giant windowed wall to the far side of the foyer. Klein walked quickly- despite his size, and the fact he was clearly several drinks in he was still able to navigate the maze-like crowd with ease. Klein shot a look back over his shoulder, slowing down a little without a word to let Credence catch up.
"Here we are," Klein said, as they stopped in front of a glass door. "Would you mind?"
Credence nodded, pulling the door open, allowing Klein to pass before following him outside. They were on a little balcony, overlooking the plaza in front of the building. There weren't many lights on, at least not in the plaza, giving them a small reprieve from the sensory assault of the party.
"Ahh," Klein sighed, placing the drinks upon the wide stone railing and undoing another one of his shirt buttons. "It's nice out here, eh?"
"It is," Credence agreed- it was cooler, but not cold, and a gentle breeze brushed past them. They leaned against the railing next to Klein, at ease. Perhaps they'd been wrong, Klein wasn't so scary- despite his intensity, he was endearing and interesting. And sure, he wasn't exactly nice, but he didn't really have to be.
(Klein didn't look at them like some freak, or oddity. He didn't look at them with pity, with sorrow or fear. When Klein looked at him, he did so with understanding, with some small, but very real amount of empathy.)
To Klein, they were Credence, and nothing more.
The dim night was broken by a soft click, and the orange light of a small flame. Credence watched as Klein deftly lit a cigarette, his fingers going through the motions as if they were second nature.
"You smoke?" Credence asked, as Klein inhaled, and then blew a cloud of smoke out over the railing.
"Sadly, yes," Klein responded. "We all have our vices, I suppose. I didn't have any on me when I got here, but I found some in the Five apartment- apparently one of the other mentors is a big smoker, just my luck."
Klein took another puff, flicking the burnt bit away. "Why, are you a smoker?"
"No."
"You wanna try?" Klein asked, holding it out.
Credence laughed- of all the places they imagined they'd go, this was certainly not one of them. Ridden with lung cancer, being offered a cigarette by a captivating boy who had been a stranger no more than a week ago.
"I've never tried… I mean," Credence paused, voice wavering. "It's not like it could make me any sicker."
Klein didn't say a word, his expression shifting ever so slightly- inquisitive, but not asking.
"I, uh… well, I have cancer," Credence continued, gripping the railing tightly. "Lung cancer. Terminal. That's not the only thing wrong with me, but…"
"Oh," Klein said, quietly- quiet as Credence had ever heard him speak. "Well, I can put this out."
"No," Credence shook their head- no, he'd suffered, he'd toiled away in that fucking lab for years and years, only to be punished like this. To be condemned. He'd missed out on so many things- and would have even more stolen from him because of it. Because of something he couldn't control, couldn't prevent- perhaps it was simply hard wired into him, always meant to happen, meant to clip his wings.
Perhaps Credence Voltaire was always fated to fall short.
And whether that be a coincidence, or a cruel twist of fate, they were done with complacency. They were done playing that game- done sitting by and letting life pass them by, letting the limitations of their body keep them from living.
They'd let Jaimari walk all over them- use them, and perhaps they deserved it. Perhaps they were awful for dying, awful for being so untalented that they couldn't even finish the work they'd started. They'd destroyed it all, all of their own work, for what? Because they were angry? Because they were exhausted, delirious, so wrapped up in drugs to keep the pain at bay that they didn't even notice their hands weren't creating anymore?
They couldn't even notice their hands destroying all they'd ever made? All he'd be remembered for?
Credence Voltaire had thrown their life away for a selfish man who held them in such little regard they couldn't even truly be together. They'd left District Three thinking they'd lost it all- their research, their inventions, Jaimari, but now, facing Klein, they were realising that wasn't true.
No. Volunteering was the best decision they ever made.
And they would not allow any more experiences to pass them by. Not now. Not after everything.
"Are you okay?" Klein asked softly, his brow furrowed. Gently, he put his hand on their arm, his warmth radiating through the fabric of their shirt. "Credence?"
"I- I'm…" Credence's voice wavered, threatening to break, fighting back the tears which distorted their vision- if they started, Credence didn't think they'd be able to stop crying."I don't want to sit and watch the world pass me by anymore, Klein."
"Yeah?" Klein asked, moving his hand from their arm, to around their shoulder, his grip strong, and secure, and they couldn't help but lean into him. "That is quite the realization to have, on a night like this."
"I suppose," Credence sniffled. "I- I don't even know, I don't know why I'm telling you any of this."
"You don't have to," Klein responded, rubbing little circles into their shoulder with his thumb. "You don't have to say anything if you don't want to. I'm not claiming to be the most comforting person, but… perhaps we're a bit more alike than I thought. You keep me on my toes, Credence."
"Perhaps we are similar," Credence sniffled, wiping their watery eyes. It was strange, how much better they felt, just telling Klein such a thing. "Could I still try…?"
Klein barked a laugh- Credence could feel it vibrate through his ribs. "See, you surprise me. And if you're certain… if you want to try new things, there are worse places to start"
"Explain it to me," Credence demanded, as Klein re-lit his forgotten cigarette.
"So you pull it into your mouth, like usin' a straw," Klein explained, "And then you inhale it into your lungs. And you hold it for a second, and then exhale. I'll do a demonstration, if you're into that."
Credence nodded, watching keenly as Klein demonstrated the actions- he'd taken his arm back to relight the cigarette, and Credence somehow already missed it- missed his support.
"You think you can handle that?"
"Of course," Credence snorted, and with that, Klein passed them the cigarette. It felt strange between their fingers, shaped like a pen or pencil, but far more fragile. They brought it to their lips, following Klein's instructions, pulling into their mouth, inhaling, pausing and then exhaling.
The blue smoke curled around their chest, dragging roughly through their lungs- they coughed as they exhaled, forcing most of the smoke straight into Klein's face.
"There you go," Klein laughed, taking the cigarette back, putting his arm back around their shoulders, rubbing the center of their back with his hand soothingly, as the coughs continued to wrack their body. "The first time's always the worst one."
Credence laughed a little through the coughs- when it seemed they were beginning to ease up, they just coughed more intensely again. After a few more moments of trying to eject their lungs from their body, Credence sucked in a deep breath.
"You like doing that?" Credence asked roughly.
Klein handed Credence one of the beers and motioned for him to drink. "I sure do. I don't even remember when I started."
"Really?"
"Nah. I had a rough few years after I lost my leg," Klein explained, quietly- as if he weren't sure he should be saying it. "I worked in this shithole factory, with my sister, and something malfunctioned coz the boss wasn't doing the right maintenance… the whole place went up before anybody could do anything."
Credence blinked at the other boy- incidents like Klein spoke about were common in Three, but they'd never known anybody who'd been involved. If Dr Hendler hadn't come along, Credence probably would've wound up in one of those factories himself, working for next to nothing, risking their life day in and out for scraps.
"I- I'm sorry," Credence stuttered- he doubted that was what Klein wanted to hear, but it felt like the only right response. "I'm sorry you lost your sister."
"It's funny," Klein sighed, "I don't think anybody has ever said that to me."
"You deserve to hear it."
Klein didn't reply, simply stared out over the landscape before them- his grip tightening on their shoulder. Klein Souhei was a man of many words, and yet was rendered silent.
Credence looked with him- but kept Klein in their view. They intended to memorize every little thing about this night, the way the lights of the Capitol twinkled, illuminating the features of Klein's face, the little blemishes and imperfections. The white scars dotting his face and neck, his crooked nose. The way the wind pushed his hair into more of a mess than it already was, the scent of cigarettes and beer and the city. They weren't numbed with drugs, so mindless they could barely function. Credence wasn't barely living, in this moment.
They were alive, really and truly, alive.
(And perhaps they wouldn't be alive for long. Perhaps Credence Voltaire would be dead by tomorrow. But despite that, they intended to remember this night- remember Klein, just as they were tonight.
Even if they'd only remember for a few hours, or days, Credence wanted to hold onto the memory of the best night of their life forever.)
"Is there anything you've never done, Klein?" Credence asked- breaking the silence, but it felt comfortable- in a way they'd never truly felt before.
"Hm," Klein thought for a moment. "Well, I've done plenty of things. But perhaps there's something."
"Mm? What?"
"I've never kissed anybody I've liked," Klein said with a chuckle. "I've never even dated anybody, at least not really."
"I've kissed somebody," Credence admitted. "I don't like him much now."
"Oh?"
"I volunteered for him, because… well a terminal diagnosis means my odds already weren't favourable, right? And when he was reaped… I couldn't sit by and watch him die on TV, when I was already dying."
"Noble of you," Klein smiled, softly. "Would you…?"
Credence didn't even give him a chance to finish his sentence before pulling him in- one of his hands curling into Klein's hair, the other on his back. Klein's hands fell to their waist, as their lips met- softly, unsure at first, until Klein's deft hands pulled them in more. Credence could hardly compute what they were doing- all he could consider was the way Klein supported their body with such ease, his deft hands moving to their face, cupping it gently as if holding a sculpture to inspect. He could feel the rise and fall of Klein's chest with every breath he took where their chests pressed together. He was warm, and gentle, and tasted of smoke and the last sip of beer.
This was easy. This wasn't like it'd been with Jaimari, wasn't meant to be a secret. Klein was nothing like Jaimari- didn't know his own strength, didn't take everything he wanted from them just to leave Credence with nothing. Didn't brush his concerns off with indifference. No, Klein was different.
Klein cared.
They pulled apart eventually, Klein grinning up at them lazily- and they were smiling too, genuinely, for the first time in who even knew how long.
"You know, maybe you aren't so bad, Credence Voltaire."
"And maybe I'm glad to be facing the Games with you, Klein Souhei."
Gucci Givenchy, 18
District One
"Now you are just the darndest thing!" the Capitolite woman said, squeezing Gucci's arm. "You've trained for many years, I'm sure."
"Of course I have," Gucci responded politely- he wasn't entirely sure if the woman was forty or fifty, her face tight and uncreased, the clear markers of work having been done. But that didn't really matter at the end of the day, as long as she was rich. "All of us have."
"Yes, yes, of course. I'd love if you'd introduce me to your partner- Adonis, her name is?"
"Adonis, yes," Gucci said, keeping his eye on the boy dressed in electric blue moving through the crowd from the elevators. Tavi had taken long enough to show up- Gucci wasn't even sure if he'd be allowed to or not, but here he was. At least he was in a bright enough colour to keep track of him with ease. "Go right on over, tell them I sent you. Now if you'll excuse me."
The Capitolite nodded, and smiled, patting him on the arm before leaving- she'd be Donnie's problem now, not that it'd be a bad thing. Securing sponsors was important, even if it was somewhat of a given for the Careers. They always got sponsors, sure, but the more the merrier.
(And even if they didn't convince the sponsors now, Gucci was sure their performance in the Arena would sway many more.)
Gucci took off through the crowd towards Tavi- the Four boy didn't seem to be going anywhere in particular, simply aimlessly wandering. Some part of Gucci wondered if he was avoiding the others on purpose, which Gucci couldn't blame him for.
(The least he could do was apologize- or even just acknowledge his actions- and yet something told Gucci he wouldn't.)
It didn't take long for him to intercept Tavi, popping out of the crowd and seizing him by the arm- he tried to jerk out of Gucci's grasp, but his grip was firm. He refused to let Tavi get away now; after all, they were just getting started.
"Fancy seeing you here, Four," Gucci said with a grin, to which Tavi's lip curled.
"What do you want?"
"To spend some time with you," Gucci explained innocently. "You know, we really never got much one on one time, and I'd like to remedy that, Nikoletos."
"Must we really?"
"Yes, we must. Now walk with me," Gucci instructed, his arm looped through Tavi's, guiding him through the crowd. He'd caught him, now it was only a question of what exactly to do with him- he couldn't take him back to the other Careers, they would interfere with his careful work. He needed to keep Tavi isolated. Somewhere nobody else would hear their conversation.
Gucci turned- he'd spotted a balcony earlier, just outside a set of doors. It was as good a spot as any, since the likelihood of somebody overhearing them there was low.
Pushing through the crowd, they emerged towards the edge of the room, beelining for the door. Gucci's arm remained looped through Tavi's as he pushed the door open, stepping through into the night air. As he did though, he caught sight of a pair of boys- Three and Five if he remembered correctly. They hadn't been there earlier, but they certainly were occupying the balcony now, and evidently Gucci had walked himself and Tavi right into their makeout session.
"Nope," Gucci said, turning them around- it really was none of their business, no matter how amusing Gucci found it- they were nothing but little insignificant worms, thinking perhaps one last little fling would change things, make them feel better. It wouldn't, of course- it'd only make them weaker, more likely to falter. And sure, even Careers weren't immune from such idiocy- Chiffon Shivaan came to mind. He had nearly won the year before, and had lost to some terrified girl from Six. Why? Because he had been weak, had been too wrapped up in his own feelings to complete the task set before him. No, the Games weren't the place for silly little love plots. Not that anything like that would be Gucci's problem- he would leave the face sucking to the outer kids. Turning on his heel, Gucci marched them right back inside and into the crowd where they'd come from, Tavi snickering under his breath.
Just as they pushed their way back into the crowd, the music's tempo slowed to a waltz- pairs of tributes and Capitolites taking to the floor in pairs.
(Perhaps this was exactly what Gucci was looking for- enough time to have a private conversation, while remaining public enough to ensure Tavi's compliance, with the added benefit of guaranteeing his annoyance.)
"Do you dance much, Tavi?" Gucci asked, turning to him.
"I know how, if that's what you're asking," Tavi responded shortly. "Although I don't exactly wish to dance-"
"With me? Oh you flatter me. Besides, I wish to dance with you."
Tavi growled, but didn't resist as Gucci guided him to the floor. Wordlessly, they took up their positions- Tavi attempted to take the leading position, but Gucci shook his head, taking the other boy's waist. His eyes darted around the room uncomfortably. Tavi clearly had potential- Gucci could only wonder what more he was capable of providing if he only dug his claws a little deeper. Politely, Gucci ignored his agitation, instead turning his attention to the dance. Falling into step with the other couples leads, they began swaying in time to the music- slowly gliding around the floor.
"So what exactly do you want from me?" Tavi bit out, his voice low.
"I wish to hear your perspective about your little tiff with Capo the other day," Gucci responded. "Because it seems I'm the only one interested in your side of things. So I suggest you're honest with me."
Tavi's brow furrowed harshly, "I- I don't know."
"Well, surely you do, Octavius. You didn't just attack your own ally for no reason, right?"
"No- don't call me that," Tavi snapped."I didn't mean to, it was an accident."
"An accident? Was it an accident when I had to drag you off of him myself, as you kept trying to fight?" Gucci asked, inquisitively.
"No- I mean, I don't know," Tavi snarled, angrily- like a cornered animal giving warning for what was to come. Gucci's hand deftly found the nearest bit of skin- Tavi's neck, where he dug his nails in. It wasn't a warning, no, it was an invitation, one all too easy to ignore.
(Gucci had him right where he wanted him.)
"Because, you know, the others don't think it was an accident," Gucci explained, calm as ever, ignoring Tavi's discomfort. "Your position in the pack as a whole depends on how this conversation goes, and how well you personally convince me."
Tavi grunted, unimpressed. "I wouldn't have done anything if you weren't on the sidelines chirping at me."
Gucci laughed- he'd expected as such. Octavius Nikoletos seemed so cool and collected, but really he was a hairpin trigger. Poised and ready to go off, at the slightest touch.
"So, what are you, a loaded gun?" Gucci said, tightening his hand on Tavi's side. "The first thing trainees are taught in One is how to control themselves. It's how we weed out the worthy from the unworthy- because how are they supposed to train to kill if they can't even spar without hurting themselves or each other? And you, at eighteen, cannot do what twelve year olds can."
"I wouldn't have done anything if you weren't there!"
Gucci quirked an eyebrow, swinging Tavi around to change the direction they were moving, following the other couples- was he telling the truth? Would Tavi have remained composed without Gucci's input? Or would he still have lost it, but with further damage to Capo without him there to put an end to it?
Gucci wasn't entirely sure yet. But there was one thing he was certain of, one thing Tavi had shown him that he could not refute:
Tavi would not remain as submissive as he'd been for Gucci tonight. He would not be prevented from doing what he'd prepared to do his whole life.
Octavius Nikoletos would slaughter them all.
(And sure, Gucci's plan wasn't really one at all, at least not yet. It was just a bid for time. He could only hope it would contain him for a little longer, but it wouldn't last. It couldn't. And when Tavi finally, inevitably, came apart Gucci would be forced to bear the consequences of both their actions.
Was Gucci prepared for that? Was he prepared to take that on himself? He refused to let Adonis be caught in this- they were destined for something more, something better than the mild fucking annoyance of Octavius Nikoletos. If it meant Gucci having to deal with Tavi alone, then so be it.
After all, Gucci Givenchy would never doubt himself. Never doubt that only he could handle dirtying his hands like this.)
"You didn't need me in your ear when you killed Harbor," Gucci suggested, and with it whatever remained of the composure Tavi clung to crumbled away. His expression was raw and entirely unbecoming, his eyes growing dark and his mouth twisting into an awful snarl.
"How do you know-"
"Ah, ah, I'm the one asking the questions here," Gucci shushed, spinning him around with ease. The music's tempo quickened, as did their steps. He was half expecting Tavi to falter, but he kept up without any issue. "How I know is not your concern. Your concern is that I do know, and by the way you're gawking at me, you don't want me to know, do you?"
Tavi shook his head- his nails digging into the back of Gucci's hand- how much farther could he push, before Tavi crumbled entirely?
"So, how about we cut a deal," Gucci continued. "So you can stay in the pack- but only under one condition."
"What's your condition, Givenchy."
"You must remain on whatever I decide to be your best behavior."
"What am I, your fucking dog?" Tavi snapped.
"If that's what I wish you to be, yes," Gucci responded. "If you slip up- if you make any mistake, look at me or one of the others wrong, anything, then I share your little secret. I'll allow you to imagine how that would go over, and past that I will see to your taking care of personally."
"I accept," Tavi agreed, without hesitation, though his tone was laced with venom."And I look forward to it."
"To what, Octavius?"
"To your 'taking care of me'," Tavi spat, and with each word he forced Gucci back another step- he was stronger than he'd given him credit for. "Because I think we both know that is imminent. You can drive yourself as insane as you wish, reading into my every expression, every movement, every fucking word. And one day, you will decide that you are done with it- and with me."
"Perhaps," Gucci responded, through gritted teeth- grappling with Tavi to negate his pushing as best he could. Each step was tense, a fight in itself, a duel for who would retain control. Gucci could give him this- Tavi was putting up a damn good fight.
"And when that moment comes, I will look forward to killing you."
Tavi shoved as he spoke- eagerly, haphazardly, -but Gucci expected such a move. As Tavi attempted to shove, he switched the direction he was moving, throwing Tavi off enough to regain some ground. "I could say the same for you, Octavius. But I fear you will only be a speed bump on the road to One reclaiming its glory."
"We shall see which way the cards fall then," Tavi asserted smugly, and giving him no time to react, Tavi suddenly yanked him around- using his own momentum against him -Gucci couldn't do a thing to prevent it as gravity took hold, and he dipped towards the floor. He half expected Tavi to simply drop him instead of dipping him, but he seemed to take satisfaction in both their stalemate and simply allowing him to hang helplessly in the air. Tavi's gaze found his like a dagger. Gucci supposed he was imagining all the ways to kill him, to humiliate him even after his death.
No.
Gucci Givenchy could not, no would not allow this fucking worm who dared to call himself a Career destroy him, his legacy, even destroy Adonis.
If a fight was what Octavius Nikoletos wanted, it was a fight he'd get. One for the ages, for the history books, a battle nobody, especially not Tavi, would ever dare forget.
Finally, Tavi yanked him up again, and they released each other. It'd been one dance, only a few minutes, but it felt like it'd been years with the way his muscles ached and sweat gathered on his brow.
"Thank you for the dance, Octavius," Gucci thanked, with a pained smile and bow. "I hope our alliance has been made stronger with this time spent together."
"Fuck you," Tavi growled, giving a half hearted bow in return. "Am I free from your goddamn clutches now?"
"Not quite," Gucci shook his head- no he wouldn't just let him off the hook after that stunt. "Perhaps we should go and tell the others of the good news. And I expect you to apologize to Capo, as well."
"Fine, whatever," Tavi sighed with annoyance. They stepped away from the dance floor, weaving through the crowd together back towards where the others had gathered, and as they walked, Gucci couldn't help but smirk to himself- Tavi was dangerous, sure, uncontrollable, perhaps, but at the very least Gucci had more time now. Time to study him, time to prepare Adonis, time to ensure Octavius' downfall.
Time would run out for Gucci Givenchy one day, but not yet. Not today.
(He'd always expected Adonis would surpass him. Of course, he hoped together they could take out Tavi, but there was every chance that wouldn't be possible. It was Gucci's only hope that they were ready, that every tool he'd given her would be enough, that Gucci had been enough.
The day Adonis Priest would eclipse him was closer at hand than Gucci had ever thought.)
Adonis Priest, 17
District One
"Tonight's a bit more interesting than last night, isn't it?" Adonis asked, leaning against the wall. The stone wall was cool against their bare arms, despite the heat radiating off the crowd.
"I suppose, if you think this kind of thing is fun," Calypso shrugged, leaning against the wall next to them, carefully arranging her dress. "Personally, board games are more my speed."
Adonis barked a laugh- Calypso had spent most of training in the metaphorical back seat, quiet, allowing everyone else to make up their minds. But when they got her alone, she was different- whilst her demeanor was still serious, there was a distinct lack of tension- in the way she held herself, in the way she spoke, everything.
"I much prefer this to that woman Givenchy sent my way," Donnie shrugged. "She was a little senile. And I'm pretty sure she thought I was a boy."
Calypso laughed a little, shrugging. "I couldn't tell you."
They lapsed back into silence- the other Careers had all dispersed, but that didn't bother them too much. Capo and Atalanta had taken to the dance floor- as had Gucci, it seemed. They watched as he twirled around and around to the music out on the floor with somebody who they recognized.
"Wait, is he dancing with Tavi?" Adonis asked, stealing a little slice of pie off of Calypso's plate and squinting at the dancing figures. "Well I'll be damned."
"What?"
"Givenchy, the old coot, he's dancing with your District partner," Adonis repeated incredulously. "See? He's wearing that blue-ass fucking suit."
Calypso paused, searching the crowd, and a look of recognition crossed her face as she spotted them. "Oh. Yes… it appears they are."
"Everyone else is dancing, maybe we should be too," Adonis suggested, popping the piece of pie into their mouth.
"Out- out there? No thank you," Calypso responded, appearing bewildered at the mere thought.
"How about right here, then?" Adonis suggested, offering her a hand. "Yanno, we might as well get the authentic Capitol party experience. We've got plenty of space if I scoot the table over, just put your plate down."
Calypso gently sighed, surrendering with little convincing. "Okay, fine."
Adonis grinned, scooting the table over. A number of Capitolite heads turned, as she moved the table with a nasty squeaking noise, Adonis flashing an apologetic smile.
Calypso put her plate down, taking their hand, as they slowly started to dance- around and around in the little space they'd cleared out. Adonis had never been one for this sort of dancing, but they'd been taught by the Academy, for etiquette purposes. They had fond memories of practicing with Lolo, stepping on each other's toes, laughing so hard that they bumped into the walls of their little dorm room.
(God how they missed them- Yeezy, and Lolo. What they wouldn't give to have them there, to see the Capitol with them, to listen to them argue one more time.)
They would. She had to- of course she would.
(Who else would they want but Merlot and Yaziel, standing by their side, when they took their throne?)
"I wonder what those two are chattin' about," Adonis wondered aloud, as they caught another glimpse of the pair- the pair almost seemed to be dueling, the way they spun around each other, Gucci's purple suit blurring into Tavi's blue, one occasionally pulling the other in closer but Adonis could still see their mouths moving.
"I don't- I dunno," Calypso stuttered, stepping on Adonis' toe as she did, although they hardly felt it. "I'm shocked they even let him come."
"Me too, admittedly. But I guess whoever gave him the green light must think he'll act better surrounded by Capitolites. Still, I'm curious… maybe I should go up there and steal Gooch away from him," Adonis remarked.
Just as they began to step away from Calypso though, she stopped them, pulling Adonis back in. "Wait, why would you do that? We're still dancing,"
"Well yes, but I'm nosy, and I like knowing things. Like, what if Tavi's telling him about why he freaked the fuck out on Capo?"
Calypso shrugged, her gaze flicking to the floor- Adonis couldn't help but feel like she was hiding something. Perhaps about Tavi- if anybody knew anything about that freak, it'd be her. They trained together, came here together, and whilst they surely weren't close like Adonis was with Gucci, she still had to have at least some insight about why he was… like that.
"You're being weird while we're dancing," Adonis sighed. "Do you know something about him?"
"Who?"
"Tavi, of course," Adonis snorted, Calypso leaning back as Adonis spun her around, her dress flowing and rolling around her like waves. "Who else? He's your partner, unfortunately."
"Well yes," Calypso admitted, Adonis reeling her back in again. "I uh- I mean, yes, he's my partner. I just don't know much about him, at least not on a personal level."
"Oh?"
"Yeah," Calypso explained, averting her eyes for a moment. "I wasn't supposed to be here- the girl who was supposed to volunteer got injured just after winning her tournament."
Adonis lifted a hand to Calypso's face, tilting it gently so she would look back at them. "So you're the backup?"
"Precisely," Calypso nodded. Adonis couldn't help but feel they were beginning to float away from each other. Thus, they pulled Calypso closer again, her arm wrapping securely around their neck."All I know about Tavi is that he's sort of odd, and he always has been, I've never thought much of it but-"
"But now you are," Adonis filled in, her hands finding her waist, Calypso gasped as Adonis lifted her into the air, whirling Calypso around themself with ease. She looked beautiful, really. Adonis allowed herself a moment, suspending Calypso in the air just to gaze upon her adorably surprised face.
Yet, Calypso's words still rang in the back of their mind. It certainly wasn't the information they'd been thinking of- they were hoping for some juicy details, something she could really use to get Tavi. After all, no matter which way they sliced it- accident, or not, Tavi was still a threat. And Adonis intended on getting to know that threat as intimately as they could- every in and out of him, the way he fought, moved, spoke. Everything. Anything that would allow them to unravel him entirely.
(After all, Adonis Priest was not just a weapon in body, but also mind.)
"You're not a bad dancer, yanno," Adonis noted, Calypso hitting the floor again as the song's tempo increased. Together their footsteps quickened. "You- you ever do it at home?"
"I'm a decent dancer- you just spun me around like I weighed nothing," Calypso laughed. "But yes, I did. It was part of training for me- since I mostly fight close range. It was meant to make me more aware of my body."
"I'm no dancer, really, I'm just here to be the muscle. And you are very good. I'd love to see you perform some day," Adonis said with a smile- Calypso ducking her head bashfully.
"Thank you," Calypso mumbled, her voice quiet- as if she didn't know what to do with the compliment. Adonis couldn't wrap her mind around that- around Calypso. She was good- very good, and yet she acted like she was nothing compared to the girl whose place she took. Like Calypso was nothing but dirt under her shoe, and she believed it wholeheartedly.
She was anything but, in Adonis' eyes. She was fascinating, and talented, and oh so different from anybody back home. So many people in One were so vain, impossibly focused on themselves, on preening their images, similar to the Capitolites. Calypso though? She couldn't care less about such inconsequential things, and Adonis was in awe of her for it.
And, despite being what they were, Adonis didn't think they could face the Arena really and truly alone. Everyone needed people to lean on, even someone like her. And whilst she already had Gucci, but another ally she could trust… that couldn't hurt.
(Surely, it couldn't hurt.)
"Thank you for the dance, madam," Adonis declared, bending to bring their lips to Calypso's hand as the music petered to a stop. "It was truly wonderful."
The flush in Calypso's cheeks deepened- was she blushing? Adonis couldn't blame her, after all, they were Adonis Priest.
Calypso pulled away, practically fleeing back to her seat at their awkwardly skewed table. Adonis turned to survey the party as the music wound down, the crowd of dancers dispersing. Through the crowd, they could see Gucci and Tavi making their way over, although they weren't entirely sure where Capo and Atalanta had gotten off to.
As Gucci and Tavi were just a few tables away, a loud mic crackled over the room.
"Hello, hello, good evening my friends!" A voice announced. "I hope you are all having a wonderful time. And I hope your time gets even wonderfuler with what information I have to share with you all! If you would all please be seated for the announcing of all tribute scores and predicted placements; we will begin momentarily."
Adonis slid into their seat next to Calypso- Gucci sitting next to them, and Tavi following just a step behind. They both looked rather disheveled, Gucci's forehead glistening with sweat, his shirt uncharacteristically rumpled and slightly unbuttoned. Tavi was hardly any better- he was staring haggardly off into space, hair a tangled mess which hardly covered the red marks on the side of his neck. If Adonis hadn't seen them on the dancefloor herself, she'd think they'd had their encounter in some cramped closet, which'd be hot if it wasn't… Gucci and Tavi… Ew. But with the way they'd been all over each other, perhaps that would've been better than their more public exchange. Adonis was almost glad they only caught brief glances of their… relations.
"What have you been up to? Rattling your bones on the dance floor?" Adonis asked carefully, but their voice wavered, clapping their hand over their mouth as a snicker slipped out.
"You know it- I just can't resist a good time," Gucci shot back, wiping his forehead. "Especially not when it's with somebody like this guy. Go on, say hello Octavius."
"Hello," Tavi grumbled, with a little wave- looking thoroughly unimpressed, his eyes dark behind deeply furrowed brows.
"Welcome back," Adonis responded, willing their voice to remain steady. "Bet that felt good after being locked away, eh?"
Tavi shrugged, wordlessly.
"Oh, we're putting that all behind us, right dear Octavius?"
"Sure."
Adonis raised an inquisitive eyebrow, as Gucci shot them a look- one they knew well -we'll talk about this later.
Just as Adonis went to open their mouth again, Capo and Atalanta arrived, sitting back down in their spots. They both seemed as boringly neutral as ever, although Atalanta's eyes widened, as she scanned over them. Capo remained… indifferent, although he didn't take his eyes off of Tavi.
"Oh fancy seeing you two here," Gucci declared. "Go ahead, Octavius."
Tavi looked up now, and locked eyes with Capo for a brief moment before, with a deep sigh, he spoke through gritted teeth; "I'm sorry for what happened during training the other day. A and I hope you're recovering quickly from your injury."
"Oh," Capo said, raising an eyebrow. "Hm."
Tavi grunted, his gaze finding the floor. Capo still didn't look away, but neither said another word. The table growing oddly quiet- clearly whatever had happened during Gucci and Tavi's… exchange… had been effective. What did Gooch do to him?
As Adonis went to open their mouth, the mic crackled overhead again.
"Now that everyone is seated, we may begin," the announcer spoke. "Starting with Adonis Priest of District One- Adonis scored an eleven, with a predicted placement of first!"
The crowd roared, or perhaps that was the roaring in their ears- an eleven? Predicted first? They'd expected to do well, but better than Gucci?
(Ringing, ringing in their ears, so loud it threatened to overwhelm. The sudden shift felt like it was giving her whiplash; Calypso's hand upon their shoulder, smiling brightly. Gucci shaking their arm excitedly. His lips moved, and yet he didn't speak. Atalanta and Capo, clapping with polite smiles…)
Tavi, his face as hard as ever, but… there was something else there now, something roiling beneath the surface, and they could only watch as he fought to keep it down. With startling clarity, Adonis understood what it meant.
(He was angry.)
He was angry that they'd been deemed the best. Angry that it was them instead of him, because it didn't matter where he placed, or what he scored- if it wasn't first, clearly he didn't want it.
Tavi wanted to be Adonis- or wanted to kill Adonis, which exactly they weren't sure, but it didn't really matter. Nothing did, as long as he put up as good of a fight as Adonis hoped he would. They could only hope he'd still prove to be a worthy opponent, because otherwise he'd proven to be nothing. Nothing but pathetic and cowardly. A disappointment.
They hoped it was comfortable there, sitting in her shadow, because Octavius Nikoletos would remain there for the rest of his life; Adonis didn't intend on sharing. There was only room for one at the top, after all.
Adonis Priest.
Adonis could hardly remember the rest of the party- riding that high, that confirmation that they were the best in the eyes of the Gamemakers. There were whispers of it being a curse- and of course it very well could've been. They thought of Chiffon, from just the year prior- he'd been in the exact same position, and yet had fallen oh so close to winning.
(They wouldn't fail. They would win- it wasn't their destiny, or fate, or any of that stupid bullshit. No, it would happen because Adonis Priest intended to make it happen, forcing the future into a shape of their liking.)
"Let's get to bed, eh?" Gucci said, as they stepped into the elevator, slouching against the wall. "Get some good rest before tomorrow."
"Tomorrow," Adonis sighed. "How do you feel about tomorrow, Coach?"
Gucci smiled a little- a good sign. "I feel a-okay about it."
"Yeah?"
"Yeah."
"Even with Tavi sticking it out? I was expecting him to be outed from the Pack," Adonis said, clicking their tongue. "Yanno, all the bullshit. I'm shocked he apologized to Capo."
"Oh, are you? Why is that?"
"It sounded almost like he was rehearsing a script," Adonis explained, as the elevator dinged and they sauntered out, entering the darkened One apartment. "Which makes me think…"
"What?"
"That you are up to something," Adonis suggested, turning to see Gooch standing motionless behind them. "And you aren't telling me what you're up to."
Gucci clicked his tongue. "I only told Octavius how it was, and he made the right decision. Don't worry yourself with what I do."
"Are you certain about him, though?" Adonis said, stopping in the doorway of their room. "Are you certain about keeping him around? And that he chose right for the right reasons?"
"No, I'm not," Gucci said, loosening his tie from the doorway of his own room, opposite of them. "None of us should be, but he would be far larger of a threat where we cannot find him. I have a backup plan, if things go wrong. I just need you to trust me."
"Of course I trust you," Adonis responded- they'd put their very life in the hands of Gucci Givenchy without a question. He'd been there time and time again, never failing, never faltering. Always pushing them to be what he knew they could be. He wasn't just their friend, or their District partner, or their trainer. He had helped shape them into what they were today.
(And Adonis didn't want to think about what they'd be without Gucci Givenchy.)
"Good. Get some sleep, I'll see you in the morning," Gucci said, offering his hand out for a handshake. Adonis took it, pulling him across the hall, the pair colliding into a hug. They'd never been particularly affectionate, at least not like this. But they couldn't help but feel this was the only fitting sendoff before the Games. Gucci's arms wrapped around them firmly, perhaps the last hug either of them would ever receive. Adonis sighed into his shoulder; the one sign of weakness they'd allow themself before tomorrow.
Adonis pulled back, pressing their knuckles to Gucci's.
"Goodnight, Givenchy."
"Goodnight, Priest."
They retreated into their room, as did Gucci, both closing their doors behind them, leaving Adonis with silence, and darkness-
(And yet the light of the Games was oh so close, so bright, and how the electricity in their veins so desperately reached out, trying to meet with it. To meet with the blood, and the chaos, and the fight of the Arena. The fight for survival, to remain on top, to prove to everyone else they were as worthy of the crown as they always knew they were.)
Soon. Oh so soon, would Adonis be there. Their victory would be legendary. Would never be forgotten, they'd ensure it.
(Adonis Priest would make the bloodstains of battle sing their name for the rest of time.)
Predicted Placements/Scores:
Adonis Priest
Score: 11
Predicted Placement: 1st
Gucci Givenchy
Score: 10
Predicted Placement: 3rd
Atalanta St. Aubrin
Score: 9
Predicted Placement: 4th
Capo O'Hagan
Score: 8
Predicted Placement: 5th
Credence Voltaire
Score: 6
Predicted Placement: 20th
Calypso Castellanos
Score: 9
Predicted Placement: 6th
Octavius Nikoletos
Score: 10
Predicted Placement: 2nd
Loezan Feyer
Score: 4
Predicted Placement: 14th
Klein Souhei
Score: 7
Predicted Placement: 9th
Barbie Iskakova
Score: 5
Predicted Placement: 12th
Sabai Aboli
Score: 5
Predicted Placement: 17th
Forte Merino
Score: 4
Predicted Placement: 16th
Neith Verdugo
Score: 8
Predicted Placement: 7th
Aneira Emmer
Score: 3
Predicted Placement: 21st
Rowdy Krazimir
Score: 7
Predicted Placement: 11th
Tanwen Bast
Score: 6
Predicted Placement: 13th
Orion Farr
Score: 7
Predicted Placement: 8th