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"Rise and shine!" Euphoria Twist stormed into Calla's empty room for one last time. Her steps were quiet and uncertain. Her voice quivered. It lacked every ounce of cheerfulness that it once possessed. The woman was on the edge of tears. She could barely contain herself.
When she noticed that the young victor was not buried underneath the covers of her bed, she sighed loudly. However, it was not a sigh of annoyance but rather one of relief. This meant, she had time to collect herself, before stepping foot in front of her favourite victor.
Euphoria Twist left the cold and chilly room. She headed towards the elevator, her way accompanied by the rhythmic click-clack of her midnight-blue heels.
Hesitantly, she pushed the silver button. The woman waited for a few seconds, then, the door opened with the 'bing'. She entered the elevator and pressed the bold '7' on the board. Euphoria Twist swallowed hard as she stood taller, correcting her posture. Nevertheless, the escort could not stop herself from fiddling with the seem of her short dress – midnight-blue like her heels, laced with golden train tracks.
Once again, the door opened with a 'bing'. Her heels sounded against the marble floor. She did not have to search for Johanna Mason's room anymore. She knew which door to open.
Different from the last years, she entered the victor's room quietly, after a polite knock. She found Calla and Johanna awake, lying in each other's arms, hidden from the rest of the world underneath the many blankets.
Usually, they were still asleep when she entered. Euphoria Twist was used to disturbing their slumber and the harsh words of Johanna Mason. However, that very morning, she heard incoherent whispers. "They must be too nervous to sleep," the escort had thought to herself.
Her gaze drifted to the floor, where she saw Calla's dress from the night before. It was left lying there overnight. If Violet had seen it, the stylist would have had a heart attack. In any other situation, Euphoria Twist would have scolded the blue-eyed girl for her carelessness.
"I want to go with you in the arena." The escort's attention snapped back to the two girls.
"I won't let you!" answered Johanna Mason sternly.
"But I don't want to leave you," whispered the girl from Six in protest. Calla shifted in her position, taking hold of Johanna's cold hand. "I need you to protect me, you said so yourself."
"Finnick will protect you. The girl on fire will protect you. Lover boy will do his best. And I know that you can fend for yourself too."
"Not when I'm constantly worrying about you." Calla exclaimed in frustration. "I'm afraid of losing you, don't you get that? And I don't want to die without having said a proper goodbye to you."
Johanna played with the brunette's hair gently. "You won't die and neither will I. And at some point I will join your group, okay? You don't have to be afraid, doll."
Before Calla could reply, the escort cleared her throat in an attempt to make her presence known. The victor from district Seven was quick to throw a pillow in her direction. It hit her head with a force.
Calla lifted the blanket off her frame. She stepped out of the soft bed and looked at her friend strangely as she quirked her eyebrow.
"Rise and shine!" Euphoria Twist exclaimed. "We're running late."
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"I'm afraid, Calla," Bentley admitted in a hushed whisper as if he had revealed the worst of his secrets.
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Misfortune // Johanna Mason
Fanfiction'Sometimes I wish I died that day. It would have spared me all this trauma.' In which Calla Forte wishes she wouldn't have made it through her games. A girl who never forgets, faces her worst memories every day. She can't sleep at night without see...
