The Black Widow | A Hunger Games Fanfiction

Snow's Party

I absolutely hated my dress for the party but that might've been influenced by my hatred of the event itself. It was a silver bodice made from metal like my reaping dress with a low neckline and ruby straps. Ruby bracelets adorned my neck and a choker from the same jewels my throat. From my waist, spilled a long black skirt with a long slit up the sky revealing my legs and my silver heels. It was so similar to my reaping dress, just with a darker colour scheme.
It was almost like a mourning dress for the person I had once been.

I still hadn't learned the name of my escort but I had decided that I would if she was around for more thana year. The woman led us up the steps to the presidential palace, where people were eating, drinking and dancing to their hearts' content. As I passed, they turned to look at me. I got very... mixed reactions. Some seemed to look at me with undisguised hatred, while others tried to grab at my hands and my dress. I fought the urge to throw them into the nearest buffet table but after everything I'd been through, I had no desire to die because I didn't have enough self control at a party.
However, I think I still might've seemed quite hostile since most people tried to stay away from me. With that fact in mind, I made my way over to the buffet table and began to take some food. Well, alot of food. My stomach was bursting with everything I had just eaten but I still managed to fit desert.
Victoria came over as I was helping myself to another slice of cake (so delicious),
"Stop eating before I have to alter all the outfits I made for you." I raised my middle finger at her and began to tuck into the cake. "Fine," she pouted, "But at least go drink this if you're going to keep eating," she offered me a champagne flute filled with a pink liquid and left with a huff.

I stared at the liquid, sniffing at it to try and determine what it was,
"I wouldn't drink that if I were you," Finnick told me, coming up to me and lifting the glass from my hand before placing it on the table,
"Why?"
"It makes you sick so you can go on eating." I made a face,
"Why would they do that?"
"It's all part of the fun," he muttered bitterly. I turned to survey the crowd of people, glaring with fresh disgust at the people emerging from the bathrooms. I turned back to Finnick,
"What are you doing here?" I asked, "I thought this was my party."
"It is. I am also just part of the fun for one lucky capitol citizen," he answered with a sardonic laugh. We fell into a depressed silence until Finnick turned to leave. And I was alone once more.
Well, as alone as I could be with men coming up to ask me to dance every ten seconds.

After about an hour, a man came over to me, saying that Snow would like to see me. I gulped- I had been waiting for this.
He led me away from the noise of the party down long, carpeted hallways into a wood pannelled room that stank of roses. In the centre of the room, at a large mahogany desk, sat the person responsible for all my suffering- President Coriolanus Snow.
As I was ushered to one of the leather seats infront of his desk, he gave me an evil, snake-like smile,
"I trust you are enjoying the party," he said,
"It's very nice, thank you," I responded stiffly. He waved the man who had collected me out.
"I suppose you already know why you're here."
"Why would you say_"
"Your little performance was very convincing. Unfortunately for you, though, some people like a little bit of danger." I tried to hide my emotions; tried to hide that the realisation that all that killing, all that planning had been for nothing. The plan hadn't worked.
"If anything," Snow continued, "It made you more desirable to some of my higher bidders. Gave you something that sets you apart. In all honesty, I had a perfect District 1 girl already with your mentor. What you did in the games just made you exactly what I needed you to be."
"But..." I stammered, "But people hate me. You heard them boo. They run away from me."
"Not all of them, not the important ones." Part of me broke at that.
"I can't," I breathed, "Please don't_"
"They always say this," he said with a saddness that seemed so sincere. But it wasn't. He was mocking me, "But you know the consequences. You more than most have so much to lose. A fully intact family. It would be such a shame to sever it."
"My family has cut off all ties with me," I told him, with some hope, "They hate me."
"But do you hate them?" I didn't answer. "Do you hate them enough to sentence them to death?"

By midnight, I had given up on my appearance and was sitting at a table in the corner, nursing my eighth cup of wine. The room around me had started to spin a little when Cashmere came over to sit with me,
"Rose?" she asked, clicking her fingers infront of my face,
"Hi Cash," I responded drunkenly, "you have pretty hair. Can I touch it?" I reached out my hand, which she slapped away, "Owww," I complained, but the pain quickly faded, I reached out again and she slapped me away again,
"Rose, you're drunk," she said firmly,
"I can be drunk if I want," I retorted, but quickly dissolved into giggles, "I'm eighteen. I'm over the age of consent. There's nothing stopping me from drinking" Cashmere's firm facade melted into saddness,
"So that's what this is about."
"It didn't work," I said, honest in my drunken state, tears beginning to spill down my face. She wrapped her arms around me, letting me cry until my mascara was staining the front of her pink dress. Then, she wrapped her arm under mine and supported me until we got back to the train, tucking me into bed, where I would sleep for the entire journey home.