#alexander.threads

alex huffs, as soon as he's off the stage, he's pulling jewelry off and tossing it to the side. somewhere safe, they swear they won't lose anything. but every bit of it felt stifling now and they just wanted it off. the lights, the cameras, caesar's blinding smile—it all reminded him of how much he hated the interview process. it was much easier when he was just coaching others through it. less so when he was the one on stage.

but that annoyance slips away when he spots prue nearby. the two of them had spoken only a handful of times but...he was already oddly endeared by her, enough so that her presence even gets a small smile out of him. "hey...uh, if you're looking for your district i think they are over there?" they point over their shoulder. "you did a good job, by the way. they look fantastic. you must be proud."

they had tried to shield aster--tried to keep her from seeing what snow wanted everyone to witness. aster insisted she was fine, threw up a smile and was ready to walk right into that party. but alex could see it in her eyes--he hadn't been fast enough.

but she was learning the game well, had split from their side to mingle, to make friends and charm and do everything she had to in order to get an edge in the games. alex would have been proud...if it were any other circumstances. for the longest time, alex had lingered close by, concerned only for his sister--even above himself. but as time passed, they became increasingly aware of concern for someone else.

apollo.

it's why he found himself trying to track down the other victor, scanning the faces of those in the party for him. he had to be here...where is he? he finally spots apollo, weaving his way through the crowd to grab his arm and pull him to a quiet spot--away from the capitol, away from the cameras and those too big smiles. their hand doesn't leave apollo's arm, even as they speak, their voice a low whisper just between the two of them.

"i know you're not okay, i can tell you aren't. so don't try to bullshit me and say that you are just...talk to me."

the interviews happened only a couple of hours ago and yet it felt like it had been days. the elevators were up and running and alex had spent the better part of fifteen minutes trying to pace a hole right through the floor of his own room. they were restless. the games were close and it was this time that was the worst—it felt like you were just waiting to hear that first cannon.

and alex looked half ready to crawl out of his own skin already.

so, when he got his first chance to attempt to sneak out? naturally, he took it. he just didn't expect to run into prim-and that much is clear from the wide eyed way he looks at her. "uhh....where are you going?" deflection. always a great tactic. nailed it.

the elevators were broken. that's all they had really been told. but alexander knew. they may not have been told every detail of the plan—but they knew this one. although they would have appreciated being told just what was going to be displayed on those screens. it hit him hard the first time he watched those deaths...the second time wasn't any easier. he had slipped away, just slightly past where the peacekeepers were watching—solely to light up a cigarette in the hopes it would ease his nerves. only for alex to jump nearly a foot in the air when he sees that familiar white armor—his panic giving way to minor annoyance when he notices who is wearing it.

"...i liked you better when you weren't a peacekeeper..." he grumbles, eyes rolling as he takes a drag, "here to drag me back?"

it was a miracle that alex hasn't paced a hole right through the floor, given that they had been walking back and forth for the past half an hour, it certainly wasn't for lack of trying. he didn't like how many new rules were being introduced in the games this year--no volunteers and then victors could volunteer and now they were being trained separately? it only added to his nerves.

they were so lost in their internal bitching thoughts that they almost didn't stop in enough time to avoid running over some poor soul who happened to wander into his path. almost. arms were outstretched to steady her, "shit...sorry--i was, uh...." yeah, they didn't really have a good excuse for almost running someone over. "--stylist, right?" not one for twelve but alex is fairly certain he saw her fixing outfits for...eleven maybe? during the parade, "please say you aren't looking for jett because then i have to help you find them and i'm kind of avoiding them at this current moment."

alex rarely got along with peacekeepers--even back in twelve, even before his own games. they may have had something of a point given that alex's choice of profession back in twelve wasn't exactly what one would call 'legal'--but they failed to consider some very important facts...namely that alex didn't care that it was illegal.

he had gotten rather good at evading peacekeepers and yet not here in the capitol it would seem. although there was the slight issue of alex being somewhat familiar with this particular former peacekeeper.

"so, uh---" they give a quiet chuckle, expression somewhat apologetic as they look at marcus, "--no hard feelings about that punch, right?" in their defense, it was years ago. and... they hadn't known it was marcus under that helmet.

alex had been--to put it bluntly--avoiding peeta ever since the volunteering. or avoiding him as much as they possibly could considering the shared penthouse apartment for district 12. rather uncharacteristic of him considering that the two were rather good friends but...

when he volunteered, he hadn't thought about anything but keeping aster safe. hadn't thought about how both rye and katniss would also be in that arena--how only one person was going to walk out this time. the more time that passed, the more alex thought about what was going to happen...the more guilt he felt at what could happen in that arena.

it tormented them enough that when they saw peeta at the party, they turned on their heel, fully planning to disappear into the crowd if it weren't for that hand on their shoulder that drew them short. "hey--" alex turns, all to ready to flash a smile in case any interviewers were nearby or anyone else they needed to bullshit.

"--how's, uh, how's the kid doing?" no point in asking how katniss was doing--not like she was about to tell either of them.

they had thought they had gotten used to it--losing people. from his own games to being a mentor...he had seen death more closely than he ever truly wished to. but it was different this time. he had grown to anticipate those deaths, they were part of the games--but he never expected to lose three victors like that, never expected it to be flaunted in their faces--he never expected to lose triffel.

their hand trembles as they pull the cigarette from their lips, blowing smoke into the air and watching it spiral, they had hoped the nicotine would help calm their rattled nerves. so far? they were doing a shit job of it.

as evidenced by the way alex damn near jumps out of his skin when he notices gloss nearby, "fuckin' christ--a warning, gloss! a damn warning would be nice...a bell or something." he scoffs and looks out over the city, moving to cross his arms over his chest, hoping it would hide those shaking hands. "shouldn't you be in there?" their head jerks to the party that roared on behind them, "capitol darling and all that?"