#pb127

“This is rigged,” Maverick said, frowning at the slot machine which had just taken all his money and given him absolutely nothing. Fortunately, he’d only brought twenty bucks tonight, not willing to lose any more than that (because he didn’t have any more than that). “Word to the wise, don’t play this one.”

Gamma remained tense, watching Jeannie’s head bob around the room nearby unwaveringly. She hated the first ball she’d come to in the Capitol, and hated every last one ensuing. They were raucous, disgusting displays of excess, and tonight’s was no exception. She’d had hopes that perhaps a new destination may make it more tolerable, but alas, it hadn’t.  She cleared her throat as someone stepped in her view of Jeannie, straightening and gesturing for them to move. “Please step aside,” she commanded, eyes flickering back and forth between Jeannie and the person. 

“You told me to find you if I get pissed off, right? Well I’m pissed off.” He touched Maverick’s arm, already starting to guide him away from the ballroom. He needed some fucking fresh air. He’d promised to not get into any fights this time, especially after the run-in he’d had with Lysander the day before, and to track down Maverick before he did anything stupid. 

“So you’re famous,” Slate said, hand full of playing cards as he sat at one of the poker tables. The game had been paused so some sponsors could fight over something, and he had noticed Forty nearby. “But why have I never heard of you?”

“Hey there, world traveler.” Cade bumped Clementine’s shoulder lightly in greeting, joining her table. “Been on any misadventures through Panem lately?”

“I don’t want you to get the wrong impression,” Everett said, slinging his arms around Cade from behind. “You and I are friends, real friends. Not just fuck buddies.” He moved around him so he could see him more clearly, though ‘clearly’ in this context was not all that clear, as he was very fucking high right now and he felt like he was ascending above the plane Cade was on. “But also, those tights are doing wonders for you.”

“Did you see the cookies? They’re decorated like poker chips.” She joined Luca, her cheeks already a little pink by being next to him, and handed him a plate of one of the cookies. They were... something. They’d gone on a date, it had been really nice, she’d enjoyed herself and he seemed to enjoy herself too. But now there was a strange pressure to not mess it up, to make sure he didn’t suddenly decide she wasn’t worth it after all. Only the thought of him rejecting her made her chest ache-- what did that mean? “They’re almost too realistic to eat.”