Come Back to Me

XL

"Cordelia."

That was the fifth time Reno had to call out her name to bring her back to their conversation. He was going on and on abou his excitement of finally being invited to the President's mansion, his words only resonating with both Olympia and Kennedy, who were prepping her for the party as they also raved over their circumstances. But, still. She was supposed to respond. And she wasn't doing that. Cordelia was still caught up with the events of last night. She had yet to hear from Hudson, and she couldn't figure out if she was more relieved or upset. He had been there for everything, except for when she needed him most. Then, he slipped through her fingers, leaving so many unreachable cracks and breaks behind, as well as so many questions unanswered. So many thoughts un able to be processed.

"Are you even listening to me?" He gasped.

He made a noise, signaling that she had offended him as she simply shook her head no.

Reno babbled on, seeming to accept the fact that his ramblings wouldn't reach her as she was sat to be made up. Her makeup was to be bolder, more colorful for the Capitol, which made the process longer. Octavia smoothed her face out with a cream that matched the shade of her skin but simoltaneously covered all of her 'undesireable marks' whatever that was supposed to mean. Then a darker powder was applied, bringing out her cheekbones before they were brightenedwith a bold blush. Then Olympia moved to her eyes with a mixture glittery purple and light blue shadows. Kennedy worked on her curls, pulling them back into a simple updo, held together with pins and a clip decorated with two white orchids, the two then going on to rave about their good work, as they always did.

Cordelia's thoughts began to take a turn into the question of if these three individuals had ever spoke of anything other than themselves, and the superficial issues at their feet.

"Oh and just wait until you see what they'll be serving," Olympia exclaimed, "tables upon tables of foods you've probably never even seen! Never even dreamt of! It will be nothing like the parties in any of the districts!"

Even through a loud, squeaky tone of excitement, the woman's words felt condescending and with the three of them surrounding her, Cordelia felt suffocated. Bound in their glossy, sparkly bubble where no harm and no true struggle had ever existed. In a way, she almost envied them. How sheltered they were. So far out of the grasp of the haunting reality that even the very person in front of them had been dragged into. Maybe she was being too harsh. Judgemental and cold.

But, hadn't she at least earned the right to do that?

There were hundreds, if not thousands of children dead, and no cap coming to that count anytime soon. And what was their response? To throw parties in the street, and eat until they were full, just to throw everything up and do it all over again. And now she was one of them. Not the easiest pill she'd ever had to swallow but, it was better than being dead.

Her dress was breathtaking, somehow on another level from each of the others that she had been put into.

"I wanted to do something different," Caspian did up the back of her dress, examining his work for any wrinkles or out of place pieces, "we've kept up with the theme of four throughout all of your evening attire and obviously the color scheme is still there but, it's more of a subtle ode. Still Panem's siren."

She turned around and wrapped the man in a tight, genuine embrace. This was the last one on one moment they'd have together before she went home. His grip on her shoulders kept her grounded for a moment as she struggled to breathe. He instructed her, trying to bring her down from the sudden panic. She felt a scream fighting to leave her throat as she felt his touch leave her. A string of obscenties wanting to break out at the audacity any person could have to leave her alone at this moment. But within moments, she was wrapped in Finnick's arms, shaking like a leaf in his grasp.