When Luck Runs Out

Party Mode: Off

    We spent the rest of the train ride going over the people that would be at the party, knowing their profession and all that stuff so that if we had to talk to them we'd be prepared. I thought they were all the most boring people, business men usually, or relatives of Snow, or Snow himself actually. Molly warned both of us very thoroughly that we were not to call him a dictator, tyrant, devil, or pathetic maggot, or any other type of title that could be taken the wrong way anywhere in the party, whether it be to his face or outside on the balcony. There were supposedly cameras and guards all around, watching for people who were up to no good or for people who were just there to dis the president. Of course we would never publicly express our opinions, and even though that idiot of a ruler was a complete loser, the consequences for saying that would be extreme. When we got to the Capital the sun was down, but you'd never guess that because all of the lights on the buildings were on. They formed a sun of themselves, illuminating the otherwise dark sky into an aroura of bright lights. There were people swarming the station, holding signs, holding posters, laminated copies of (shudder) the picture, and taking pictures of the train even though the windows were tinted and they couldn't see us yet. The doors opened and some security guards went first, pushing people back behind the large barriers and fences they had set up and making sure there was a clear path for us royals to pass through. Mrs. Hudson and Molly went first, smiling and waving, and then John and I, who kept our heads down and didn't sign anything. These weren't innocent District ten people on the side of the street, they were crazed Capitol civilians, I was sure if I got too close they'd rip out my hair and sell it online. And even if they weren't going to hurt me, they were only the mindless zombie followers of the games, the only thing that bloodbath created for them was entertainment, they weren't sacrificing their children, they weren't feeling the pain and loss suffered every year, no, they cheered for their favorites and cried when they died, but they moved on with their lives. They found some other person to cheer for and the pattern repeats itself. They didn't deserve a signed paper from us. I put a protective arm around John's shoulder, steering him through the crowd and making sure he didn't wander off. There were camera flashes from every angle and I was sure the protective mentor picture would show up once again, making all the teenage girls squeal about how cute and in love we were. We walked through the station and there was a path, lit with candles and camera flashes, up to the President's manor, where the party would be taking place. It was about four stories high, a huge house that could probably comfortably house an entire District, painted white with flowers and gardens and probably had peacocks roaming around. It was revolting.
"Now, remember to smile, you're so happy to be here in front of the President." Mrs. Hudson insisted.
"Oh, I can hardly contain myself." I muttered, and Molly glared at me, as if trying to remind me about the conversation we had before. I let John walk by himself; here there was a large walkway for us, the fences were very far apart, but that didn't stop the people from handing over or trying to crawl underneath. Society today...I swear. When we got up to the large set of marble staircases there was a large gate at the top, to stop the fans from getting in, and peacekeepers lined up everywhere. Now it was only party goers, all who were at least a little bit sophisticated and wouldn't be stealing my hair. Of course they flocked us the moment we got in, men and women alike, all heavily painted with their hair in wild designs, they were like animals. We said polite hellos, but I didn't recognize them from the pictures Molly had shown us, they were more the lower or the higher class. They knew us though, calling all of us by name, even the stylists they knew, asking us how we were and if we knew anything about the upcoming games. Obviously they were spirited supporters of the butchering of children, how lovely. We finally we able to get some space when the Capital anthem started playing, and from the balcony emerged the devil himself. Snow was dressed in all white, as usual, with his white suit and white beard and white shoes, all down to the white rose pinned to his jacket. He waved and smiled at the people, who were all cheering and clapping, and our party had to smile and clap and make nice as well, just so he didn't think the truth, that we couldn't stand the sight of him.
"To the Victors and Escorts of District Twelve, I welcome you once more to the Capital." He said with a smile. "And to all of the lovely guests this evening, I hope you enjoy yourself." What a saint. He held up his glass of champagne, and everyone who had a glass mimicked him.
"To District Twelve." He said. The chant was repeated and everyone drank to us, and we were supposed to smile and pretend like that was some big honor or something. I wanted to punch him right there, grab one of the peacekeeper's guns and shoot him right through his old wrinkly skull. But then again, I'm not sure that would go very well. Finally he disappeared back inside and we were all left to talk to all of the other people. Unfortunately the stylists knew some people, so they left, and Mrs. Hudson saw some fellow mentors, so she wandered off as well, and Molly had friends in the Capital so she went to try to find them, leaving John and I to fend for ourselves.
"Well, this is fun." He muttered as he looked around the crowd.
"This is the end of the tour, so if we get through this we're done." I pointed out.
"I hope it doesn't end like District One did." He grumbled.
"It won't, they were just idiots over there, it was nothing you did." I assured. A man passed with a platter of champagne glasses and I stole two from the tray. I guess I looked older than I actually was, because he didn't do anything to stop me. I handed one of the tall glasses to John, who just looked up at me with a raised eyebrow.
"Sherlock you're only eighteen." He pointed out.
"Oh come on John, live a little." I insisted.
"I'm only sixteen." John reminded me.
"No one's looking, and besides, we've been through a lot of crap, it's okay to have one glass." I assured.
"I have a feeling this isn't your first time testing the boundaries of alcohol." John guessed.
"You saw me drink from that whiskey bottle." I pointed out.
"When?" John asked, looking shocked.
"The night the picture was taken, when I had that break down." I remembered.
"Oh ya. That was a rough day." John decided.
"So we good?" I asked. John looked around, as if Mrs. Hudson would come running out and scold us.
"Don't tell my parents." He mumbled in a worried, childlike voice.
"I'd never dream of it." I assured with a smile, holding up my glass.
"To us?" I asked.
"To us." John agreed, clinking the two crystal cups. I took a reasonable sized sip, while John, obviously completely new to alcohol, took three large gulps before gagging and coughing.
"Oh god, that's horrible!" he exclaimed.
"You're not supposed to chug it!" I laughed, taking another sip from mine.
"You were supposed to tell me that!" John insisted.
"I didn't know you didn't know!" I laughed. John spit on the ground, rubbing it into the concrete with his polished shoe and looking around to make sure no one saw.
"Very classy John." I laughed, taking the glass from him and putting both on another waiter's tray.
"Let's go inside, get something to eat." John decided.
"Probably a good idea." I agreed. "Shall we?" I extended an arm for him to take, like a prince escorting a princess, or, in our case, another prince.
"We shall." He agreed with a goofy smile, interlocking our arms and letting me lead him through to the banquet. People gave us sideways looks, some of adoration and some of confusion, even disgust. It was no mystery that not everyone in the capital was keen on having a pair of gay icons walking around and displaying public affection, even the most innocent of arm linking would lead stupid homophobes to shield their eyes and hide their children, but ask me if I care. The banquet hall was huge, with a large polished dance floor and tables overflowing with food of all sorts. It smelled delicious and looked delicious, and even for someone who never eats a bite of food, my stomach growled.
"Well, this party has some advantages." John decided, taking a large plate form the stack and handing me one, loading up our plates with all types of rich delicacies. We found the most deserted clump of cushy armchairs and set up there, but of course, the moment we sat down the people came flocking. First we talked to Veronica Clearwater, who was a Victor of a game. I forgot which one, but judging that she had to be a million years old, I'm going to guess it was the first one. She went on and on about how glad she was that we were being 'who we truly were and not letting segregation stop us from publicly displaying our love'. I thought that was very nice of her, and even though she went on about some gay couple that were publicly hanged way back when, which made John go very white, she was relatively interesting to talk to. When she left her spot was replaced by a couple of very excited teenage girls, the one in the middle introducing herself as Snow's granddaughter, and all of her friends were with her. I had my doubts about how 'friendly' they'd be if she wasn't famous, but that wasn't really my business. They all wanted to talk to us about our relationship, of course, like if our parents were okay with it or how we 'came out' to the District Twelve team of people and all of that. John and I spent most of the time saying one word answers that had nothing to do with the question, but they seemed very satisfied with anything we said, leaning closer and closer with every word. In the end they took a picture with us, all smiling or making duck faces or sticking out their tongues, and one even ended it with kissing me on the cheek, which made me choke on a fancy meatball I was in the process of eating. They left, and apparently the one that had kissed me was in tears, going on about how this were the absolute best day of her life. I wiped my cheek very well with my napkin. After those girls left a very dull middle aged man came with his wife, introducing himself as the gamemaker and sitting up very straight, telling us about how proud he was that John had used the environment he had created to kill the Jeff kid and how this year's arena would 'blow us all away'. I assured him that we would be looking forward to it, and his wife just giggled, as if they knew something we didn't. Finally, when they left, John and I relocated, deciding that we couldn't take another Capital idiot talking to us. When we finished our plates I grabbed some more drinks, this time it was a very expensive scotch, in cute little square glasses.
"See if you like this one better." I decided, giving him one of the glasses. This time he was a lot less innocent about it, the two us clinked glasses and drank once again.
"That was a lot better." He decided, finishing his off and putting it back down. I looked at him a bit suspiciously, but finished the rest of mine in one big gulp, as if seeing who could down their alcohol better. It was no mystery that in the end I would be better, but John just went to get more food. I wasn't all that hungry, probably because I never ate and my stomach was probably the size of a shriveled raisin, but I just watched him pick some fancy pork off a tray and some salad from a bowl and multiple pieces of bread from a platter.
"Aren't you going to eat some more?" he asked, taking a large bite of salad so that some of the stems stuck out of his mouth. I thought this was absolutely adorable.
"I've rather lost my appetite after that pack of wild teenage girls." I sighed.
"That's okay, I guess, I'm slowing down too." John decided.
"There's always those drinks that make you puke." I pointed out.
"I'm not sinking that low." John insisted. I nodded in agreement, not planning on using those as well. We stood to ourselves in the corner this time, trying our best to blend in and not to socialize much, which was very much better than having to deal with the idiots of the Capital. I just watched the dancers, who were twirling around in their stupid Capital gown, laughing and smiling as the music played. I loved dancing, for some reason. Maybe that was just a little side effect of having a boyfriend, but ever since I was little I was fascinated that this stupid, clumsy human race could be anything but that. It could elegant and graceful, you could show affection to someone else by twirling around with them, it was just perfect for me. But of course there was no way I was going to ask John to dance, for one thing I was sure he would sloppy and clumsy, probably step on my feet a couple hundred times. But I'm pretty sure John would be mortified to dance with me in public, just the fact that Molly or Mrs. Hudson might get a side glance and see us twirling together, John would hate that. So I stayed were I was, cursed to watch as everyone else laughed and had fun.
"So, now what?" John asked, setting his only half eaten plate down. Obviously he wasn't as hungry as he previously thought.
"I don't know, Capital parties are great if you actually want to talk to people." I pointed out.
"Well I most certainly don't want to talk to anyone." John decided.
"Neither do I." I agreed.
"Good, then we can just sit here I suppose." John decided. A waiter came around and stole his plate, so we didn't have that burden on us anymore.
"So, are you having a little bit of fun at your first Capital party?" I asked sarcastically, knowing this was pretty much purgatory.
"Well, I suppose it could be worse." John shrugged.
"The Reaping will be here soon." I pointed out.
"Don't remind me." John groaned.
"Hey, at least we know you won't get picked." I pointed out, trying to make him smile just a bit more.
"But my friends from school might be picked, or one of my parent's friends kids, just because my name isn't in there doesn't mean I'm free from it." John pointed out.
"Certainly cheerful." I muttered.
"Oh come on, you never look on the positive side!" John insisted.
"That's because I'm me, and I'm a grump, you're supposed to be happier." I debated.
"Alright, let's get one more scotch then." John decided. I eyed him suspiciously, hoping he wasn't developing a bit of an alcohol problem, but considering we were at some stupid party with the stupid president, I suppose it wouldn't hurt to put a little bit of fun into it.
"Alright." I agreed, leading him over to the drinks table and pouring both of us a drink. There was a little lady there, who looked at us curiously, but when she tried to open her mouth to ask something she kind of wobbled and spilled her glass of wine on her dress, so that distracted her enough.
"Now don't chug it." I decided.
"There's like, two mouthfuls in here." John debated.
"That's how you drink stuff like this, you don't need as much." I insisted.
"Fair enough, cheers." John decided, holding his glass. I clinked the rims, and we both drank. Since I was a showoff (and I certainly have had more alcohol than just this little glass before) I downed the whole thing right in front of him. John looked offended, and mimicked me, as if trying to insist that he could do that too. Now I was feeling progressively happier, a little bit less alert, caring just a little bit less. John smiled widely at me, as if feeling the same sort of sensation. I would never hear the end of it if I had let John get drunk at the President's party, but after one more glass of that happiness we were both not really caring about the consequences.