#vb132.

Ashton stood out on the open porch, preoccupied with his hairstyle. He fucked around with his hair, pushing the crunchy strands out of his face; they'd tickled his nose and covered parts of his eyes long enough. Under his breath, Ash cursed District Four's stylist, who'd caked gel on his head to get an everlasting wet look. Aside from the hairdo, he didn't actually mind the rest of the outfit, especially on a chilly evening like this. He eventually realized he'd been standing near Mahlon, who was smoking by the railing. Ash hoped he hadn't been watching the whole ordeal.

The whispers he'd heard in Four were true. Between sects of rebellious groups in different districts, it was hard to pass information, especially between Eleven and Four, on the completely opposite sides of Panem. It was even harder to verify that information. Ashton had excused himself from Brilliance shortly after the news dropped. He needed a bit of fresh air or a pair of ears, whichever came first.