The anchor of love||| Johanna Mason

Why do we party so hard

The bar is filled with a diverse group of people. Friends are laughing and sharing stories, couples are dancing close, and groups of colleagues are unwinding after a long week. The atmosphere is one of celebration and camaraderie. Those not invited to Snow's ball always come here, and never share the secret of us being here either. It's a middle ground for us all, the lesser capital citizens of the world, who still wish to party and have fun, getting to see their precious victors up close, yet would never tell a soul in fear of their repercussions themselves. The lesser members of the capital know their place, know to fear Snow more, that he can take away their privileges easy as pie.

I know what we looked like as we entered, a group of friends bursting through the door, greeted by the warm, lively atmosphere. Making their way to a reserved booth, laughing and chatting excitedly about their week. Yet it was a ploy, a way to seem excited about our time here, yet what we wanted to speak about was reserved for later, when the alcohol loosened its tongue and the hotel felt safe to speak the hidden truths about our lives.

I approached the bar many times that night, leaning against it as I waited to be noticed, scanning the menus i already knew of by heart, the drinks here are the perfect blend of sweet and tangy, i bring back shots for everyone multiple times.

Barely remembering the night or my own self. I stumbled back into the hotel. That was the last thing i remember before now.

Right now.

Right now, there was an arm across my waist, I could feel the warmth of another body pressed against me. The sensation is comforting yet unfamiliar, causing a mix of emotions to stir within myself, this has never happened to be before, have i gotten drunk enough to sleep with somebody and not remember to leave before I fell asleep. I always leave, just after their asleep. It's easier that way, no weird morning conversations with morning breath.

So how. No, why have i woken up with a person cuddled into my side, completely naked, with no recollection of how i got here.

Maybe i had too much to drink.

I had to get out, but as i go to move, i clearly wake them up. The soft snoring has stopped at the littlest of movements, A Victor, then, at least, not a capital citizen.

"Leaving so soon, love?"

I knew that voice, i knew that voice all too well, how the bloody hell had i managed to crawl my way back into bed with cashmere bloody hell on fire.

"you only just went to sleep, we only just went to sleep a few hours ago" she starts, and oh I forgot about her morning voice, how it let's the act of capitial Princess down, how she is herself in the mornings, at least with me she is. "Although, as you are up, mind getting me a glass of water, my throat is just parched"

Somehow, I knew she was making fun, somewhere in what she was saying she was making fun, as she always does. I know she always does.

We've been sleeping together for the better part of two years since I was 18. And she was 21. In all those two years, we had never shared a bed.

Not. Once.

So I'm sure she was making fun of me somehow, for my stupidity of drunken actions to choose to sleep next to her, perhaps my drunken self felt safe though I think she was more tired and drunk, not thinking clearly. Even drunk, I'd never slept in the same bed as someone, always leaving before they even fell asleep.

I don't know quite what to make of this situation, but I hastily got dressed, (as if my speed in covering my naked form meant that Cash hadn't once again seen me naked) in a rushed haze and went to fetch her the required water.

After all, she required it.

It would have been great, fabulous even if I could rot in my shame alone, yet dumb the universe as Finnick Odair and Gloss were sat in the living area of the hotel room. If this hotel room. I don't know if it's mine, Cash's, or a random one we booked last night. I hope at least in both our drunken minds we were discreet, at least we don't need rumours if our involvement spreads across the districts, Snow would not be happy.

They needed something, that I knew, otherwise, the pair of them would not be in each other's company. It's not that they hated each other, more of a strong dislike.

Here's the deal, Finnick and I? are best friends. Cashmere and I? Friends, (occasionally more) Gloss and me? Good friends. Gloss and Finnick? Not in the slightest. The pair just couldn't get on at all.

Gloss finds Finnick too laid back, too jokey and easygoing, too much of a flirt. Finnick finds Gloss a bore. It's as simple as that. Even though he is far from boring, he's quite funny once you get past the tough exterior.

There are two reasons they would be sat together; one, they need something. Two, they knew Cashmere was in that bloody room and wanted to make fun of themselves, as they often did after our stupid drunk or sometimes sober minds decide we can make our own decisions and have sex with who we want to. Or the horrid option 3, both.

Finnick was smirking, clearly going to say something he views as amusing that the rest of us will roll our eyes at, "Don't. Say. A. Word." I say shortly, and I walk to the kitchen, bare feet silent on the floor, a skill I learnt from the games, how to be quiet at all times.

"All I was going to say was that -"

"I said no words, Finnick!" I say again, grabbing a glass and filling it with water.

"Okay, okay, fine," he holds his hands up in mock. Surrender, "What are you doing anyway?"

"Getting a glass of water, what does it look like?"

"Like a walk of shame to me," Gloss chips in, blasting him.

"I said no words!"

"Yes, to Finnick, not to me,"

Without a rational or logical response, I stuck my tongue out at him before attempting to walk back to my room.

It wasn't a shameful walk, thank you very much, just a walk with slight shame attached. Not a walk of shame at all.

My path to my room was blocked. "We need to talk to you, both of you. Be ready and on floor 12 in 10 minutes please" Gloss, ever polite asks of me. "And please, next time you sleep with my sister," he starts, "Don't" It was a joke, there was no threat in his voice, more a plea.

With that, that pair left the grand hotel room, leaving me to deliver the water in peace.