𝐀𝐌𝐄𝐑𝐈𝐂𝐀𝐍 𝐏𝐈𝐄 ━━ finnick odair ✓

𝐭𝐡𝐫𝐞𝐞. ( lungs on fire )

            I head home with empty pockets and a full mind. My examination of the disruption device has ensured that I'll have to visit the game maker's home again soon, so I try not to let my spirits drop at the thought of leaving. Despite my initial concerns, the overnight stay ended up being a valuable respite from my rotating schedule of clientele.

My afternoon is booked with a simple luncheon hosted by Cesar Flickerman. He's never been one to pursue sex during my appointments, the furthest he's ever gone has been cheeky flirting and a few kisses on the cheek, both met with playful chastisement from his wife. His company is borderline pleasant, and his events are usually full of important people. I make use of the event to network a bit and find out mildly interesting information. I harken back to what Plutarch said and make sure to drop a few subtle hints about spending a wild night yesterday at his mansion.

My evening is thankfully quite free. When I head to the victor's lounge, I find that I'm not the only one to have found a break in the action. Gloss and Cashmere are sitting together watching a nature documentary while Grant and Finnick play chess at their usual table. They all greet me with various levels of attention when I enter. My timing is perfect apparently, Grant takes Finnick's king just as I find a spot on the open loveseat placed beside the siblings. Finnick wastes no time in abandoning Grant to re-sort the chess pieces alone and comes to sit beside me. We chat about our days, each dropping casual hints that we'd like to talk more in privacy later.

Cashmere pulls us into a greater conversation by mentioning that she attended Giovani's runway show on a date with a client last night. When she clocks my interest in her retelling, she makes sure to embellish it with plenty of details. From what I can gather, the event was a hit. Pride swells in my chest when I think about Giovani's success, exacerbated perhaps by my discovery of his involvement in the rebellion cause.

While Cashmere speaks, Gloss pulls a tin from his pocket, obviously not paying a whole lot of attention. From inside, he pulls out a dull brown wrapped item. When he puts it up to his lips, I realize that it's a cigarette of some sort. As he cups his hands around his face and sparks a lighter, Cashmere stops talking to slap her brother on the arm.

"How many times do we have to tell you not to smoke in here?" She demands crossly.

"Relax, Cashmere." He groans. "I listen to this boring shit better when I'm high."

"Is that marijuana?" I ask, eyes widening in surprise.

" Is that marijuana? " Gloss mocks, doing a horribly offensive impression of me. "Yes, you square."

"I've never seen it before," I defend. "Drugs and alcohol were super taboo in District 3. No kid would have been caught dead using for fear of social ostracization."

"Well everywhere other than District 3, it's normal as hell. Which is why it's unreasonable for Cashmere to harp on me for simply lighting up a joint on a Tuesday afternoon."

"Just take it outside," Finnick says. "You know she doesn't like the smell."

"God, fine!" He exclaims, laughing. "Every single one of you has a stick up your ass right now. You all need a good smoke more than I do."

"Are you saying that you're willing to share?" Finnick reverts from scolding party to guilty party almost immediately.

"With you, my friend? Always." Gloss beams and stands. After pulling Finnick up, he turns and offers me a hand as well. "You're coming too." He directs it to me as an order.