#vxctxrx

─────    THE TRIP TO THIS SPOT WAS WORTH IT.     it had been a long one, spanning an entire day, that had practically taken everything out of the waterlogged dahlia,    but she’d just wanted to get the best look at the moon.   mission accomplished,    she thought to herself as she dangled her legs over the cliff edge she’d found overlooking the beautiful night sky.

truthfully,   she couldn’t be sure what the little moon on the back of her parents wedding photo had meant.   maybe one of them had drawn it on there before their deaths.   but there was a glimmer of hope in dahlia, for the first time since she heard those gunshots. 

her swinging legs dislodged a piece of rocks  & it fell to the ground below.  then she heard a sound.   something she thought was another rock.   however,    as she looked down ,    she saw nothing falling beneath her.    whipping her head round  &  crawling into a defensive position with her knife in her hand,     she growled.   she’d been followed,   so naturally,   she believed it to be the most likely suspect  coming back for revenge.

it was one in the morning and november lowell couldn’t sleep. it was his last night before he went into the games, his last night of freedom, and he was spending it laying in bed and staring at the ceiling. he sighed, letting the sound fill up the empty space that he couldn’t fill on his own. he knew he should be sleeping, knew that this would probably be the last night of sound sleep he ever got, but every time he shut his eyes, sleep refused to come.

this was one of the parts of being a tribute he was not looking forward to. being paraded around like a spectacle was truly something he wanted to avoid at all costs, and yet there was no way for him to get out of it. so instead, he sat in his stylist’s chair, trying to not pick at his fingers, as his hair was messed with and his face was poked and prodded.

by the time they got to the eyelashes, he was almost on the verge of a panic attack, but his stylist had such a calming voice, such a soothing presence, that he managed to sit through the process and not have his eyeballs poked out. he was surprised at how weird it felt to have something so heavy on his face and how often he had to fight the urge to rub his eyes. 

by the time he was on the chariot, he was exhausted and squinting at the bright lights that covered both him and his district partner. so focused on not falling off, he could barely lift his head to look at the crowd. however, after the motion became constant, he felt more confident, smiling and waving at the people in the crowd clamoring to get a look at them.

for the rest time in his life, he felt completely comfortable with people staring at him. and then the cheering got louder, and he wasn’t sure why, until he saw royce skating beside them. what was that feeling in his chest? did his heart skip a beat? for the boy he met in the hallway the day before? 

and then, just as fast as he had caught up with them he was gone, and ember risked a look back at him. the two made eye contact for a moment, until he removed his gaze and focused back forward for the rest of the parade. he could not let a boy distract him from making his district proud.

he hated this feeling, this feeling of being alone and unfamiliar with his surroundings and still nauseous even though he he didn’t think there was anything left in him to come back up. he made his way towards the trail, hoping he wouldn’t run into anyone, but then he ran into the only person that he wanted to run into.

royce.

he began to tear up. “i-. i thought you might have been gone.” // starter for @vxctxrx

WHEN THAT LITTLE NUMBER FLASHED ACROSS DWIGHT ONLY SAW RED.      it was taunting them.   the gamemakers were taunting them.  a friendly reminder of the chances they had of bringing home a winner that year.   a whole one point.    dwight couldn’t bare to sit in the viewing room a moment longer.   everyone else wanted to talk.  he didn’t.   he was pissed  ---  for once,   he wasn’t referring to be drunk when he said that.   he hadn’t been this angry at a tribute before  but  he didn’t watch the girl die for this.   he wasn’t prepared to watch poor finley die for this... for this idiot who’d probably wind up out living both by sheer luck. 

he didn’t want to see royce for the rest of the games if possible.   fate had other ideas.   as dwight paced up  &  down through the hallway he spotted him.   like a bull who’d just seen red,  he charged  straight down the hall towards him.     he was really trying this year to bring home a winner.   he wanted to make this year the one where he changed  EVERYTHING.   he changed his own fate,   he’d change one of his tributes fate.    that wasn’t going to happen.   not now.

‘ you! ’    was the only warning he gave royce as he lunged towards him,  shoving him back against the wall with all the strength he’d let build up.     his left hand reached out,  pinning royce by the neck.   dwight had forgotten how strong he could be when he was angry.    ‘ oh, i have officially had it with you. ’   he spat,  almost laughing.  the veins in his forehead were pulsing.   he didn’t give a shit.       

dwight locked eyes with royce,  his whole body trembling  ‘  i’m gonna ask you one question  & i want one honest answer. ’     he said,  tightening his grip on his neck ever so slightly,  ‘ do you want to DIE?  because let me tell ya;   if that’s the case... ’    his head tilted to the side,   eyes trying to burn holes in royce as he lowered his voice to just above a whisper,  

DWIGHT WASN’T INVITED TO THE MOTHERS MEETING.   as a matter of fact,    raf had walked straight past him  &  gone to francis.    if  dwight gave a shit,    he’d be offended.  thankfully he was too sober to get caught up in the playground antics.   sometimes he wasn’t sure how he’d managed make his fellow mentors despise him so much to ignore him when he was   the man with all the answers.

their tribute was a morphling addict.   that they could figure out on their own.  didn’t take a genius to spot the vacant look in his eyes or the way he couldn’t put a full sentence together.    where the other men had been stupid,   was to ignore the fact that they had a recovering addict in their midst.

he shrugged as they continued chatting,   turning out of the main part of the carriage  &  heading down the narrow hallway towards the room the boy had retired to.    he picked up an apple on the way.    yes,   dwight was well aware alcohol was very different to morphling.     addiction was addiction at the end of the day.    it was worth a shot.