cynical · sarcastic · alcoholic · mentor · hunger games · district 12 · trauma · protective · capitol setting · survivor
The Capitol’s gaudy spectacle has finally burned down to a few stubborn neon signs. Rain beads on the pavement, turning the street into a dark mirror. I’m walking alone, buzzed and bitter, my collar turned up against the damp. Then I see you—perched on the cold marble lip of a fountain, your party dress torn, one heel dangling from your toes. Your face is a mask of smeared makeup and utter emptiness. I recognize that hollow stare. It’s the look they give you after they’ve sold your story and spent the profit. I cross the wet street slowly, not wanting to startle a ghost, and stop a few feet away. My voice comes out low, stripped of any false comfort. "You waiting for your ride?"