PREY.
( 01 )

Ansel Watts had always hated watching (and for a short time being in) the annual tribute parade. Children were forced into uncomfortable outfits and to be paraded around like show dogs. He assumed that the first time he was dressed up like a roll of aluminum foil would be the last, and that he would never have to do it again. But that was hardly the case. Because when President Snow first announced the special circumstances of this Quarter Quell, and his best friend was reaped, Ansel knew he had to volunteer. But for once, after that, luck had been on his side.

His last stylist had been terminated by the game makers once they realized that he had no actual creative skills. They hired a new stylist, a woman named Blossom. Ansel had only spoken with her for about twenty minutes or so, but he could already tell that they would be close friends. She was kind to him, and she treated him as if he wasn’t even in the games. And to add heat to the flame, she was an incredible stylist.

The outfits he and Electra wore were, well, beautiful. Ansel wore a violet, flared shoulder, romper like outfit, decorated with small, cordless lights. His eyelids were also dusted with a dark shade of purple pigment. And according to Finnick Odair, he looked “Absolutely stunning.” Those had been the first words they had exchanged in months.

“No thanks to you, Finn.” Ansel laughed once he heard Finnick’s comment.

“Oh, come on. What did I do this time?” Finnick smirked, crossing his arms over his naked, muscled chest.

“I didn’t sleep when I found out you were reaped.” Ansel nervously admitted to Finnick.

“So, I’m the reason why you volunteered? I thought it was for Electra.” Finnick sarcastically responded.

“You know? Sometimes I have no idea why the Capitol likes you so much.” Ansel retorted.

“Please, Watts. You love me and you know it.” Finnick chuckled.

“Well, you might be right, but I think it’s time for us to go.” Ansel grinned, referring to the flashing lights that signaled for the start of the parade.

“I’ll see you at dinner?” Finnick questioned hopefully.

“Wouldn't miss it.” Ansel beamed, climbing up into his chariot.

As soon as all of the tributes had boarded their chariots, the large steel doors slid open, and the chariots took off. A signature smile fell over Ansel’s face as he looked out at the crowd of Capitolites dressed in ridiculous apparel. They were cheering loudly for the tributes, some of them were throwing flowers and brooches at the the tributes as well.

And finally, they stopped at the front of the podium where President Snow stood. He had his usual faux smile on his face as he stared down at the tributes. “Welcome victors, tributes, friends - to the opening of the Seventy-Fifth annual Hunger Games. Today, we are here to remind Panem that no man is strongest. Our so called strongest are here today as an example, an example that anyone, and everyone is at risk of falling. I bid you all good luck, and may the odds be ever in your favor.” He said emotionlessly.

“Disgusting man.” Ansel muttered under his breath as the chariots departed from their temporary resting spot.

After another unpleasurable round of waving and smiling, the tributes were returned to the large horse stables.

“Lovely. Absolutely lovely.” The unmistakable voice of Joaquin Anderson sounded as they retreated down from their chariot.

“You know, Joaquin? I really wish you would have volunteered instead of me.” Ansel retorted sassily as he approached his ‘mentor’.

“Wow. I’m laughing so incredibly hard. You're hilarious.” Joaquin sassed emotionlessly. “Now come on! I’m hungry.” He whined, desperately looking over at the elevator doors.

“Electra? I think we should just let Joaquin starve tonight.” Ansel joked, looking over at his very frazzled district ally. She didn’t respond.

“We should get going.” Joaquin sighed, glancing over at the frizzy haired woman.

The District Five trio silently strode into an empty elevator, and pressed a button to go their desired floor. The ride was silent, and rather awkward. Ansel kept itching at his arms, Electra stared out the elevator windows, and Joaquin slouched against the wall. And finally, after what seemed like hours, the elevator dinged open, and the trio entered their living quarters.

“Tell me when Finnick gets here, alright? I need to shower and get dressed.” Ansel told Joaquin, before scurrying off to his bedroom and grabbing a pair of black sweatpants and a blue cargo sweater. He then fled into his bathroom, where he turned on the shower in its preferred settings. He pulled away his romper and stepped into the steaming shower, where his tense muscles immediately relaxed. He applied his toffee scented shampoo, washed his face and body, and then stood in the water, relaxing under the heat.

But after about five minutes or so, he could hear Finnick’s voice from the dining room. He hurriedly shut off the water and reached for a towel from beside the shower, before wrapping it around his boney waist. He then grabbed a makeup wipe and wiped away the remnants of his parade makeup. That lead him to drying off his body and his hair, before pulling on his selected outfit.

His walk into the dining room was an exciting one, after all, he was getting the chance to sit down with his best friend for the first time in six months.

“What, you couldn't keep the getup on? I told you my opinion on it.” Finnick chuckled once he saw Ansel’s change of clothes.

“Well, I was going to keep it on, but then I remembered that you loved it oh-so-much.” Ansel bantered with a smile.

“I will never understand whatever… that was.” Joaquin commented as he took a sip from his drink.

“Quin, you just turned eighteen. You shouldn't be drinking.” Ansel chuckled.

“I’m supposed to be lecturing you, you know. And can we please just eat? I’m starving.” Joaquin whined.

“Fine, fine.” Ansel smirked, striding over to the large table and taking a seat.

Finnick sat next to him with a smile. “I haven't had a chance to meet your stylist yet, Watts.”

“Well then, Finnick, this is Blossom. My kind, compassionate stylist.” Ansel smiled.

“I’m glad to hear that you think of me like that, Ansel.” Blossom smiled, showing off her pearly white teeth.

“And your gorgeous stylist. Why didn’t you add that on?” Finnick flirted, sending a wink in Blossom’s direction.

Ansel bit the inside of his cheek at the comment. “Let’s eat, yeah?” He asked, glancing up at the people around him.

As soon as the words ‘eat’ left his mouth, a group of avoxes walked in with plates piled with food that they set down on the mahogany table. Joaquin being Joaquin heaped as much food as possible onto his plate, not noticing the stares from everybody else until he looked up from his food.

“What? I haven’t eaten since noon.” He mumbled, before forking down another bite of food. Ansel could only cock his head as he served himself food.

The rest of their dinner continued with conversations between Joaquin, Finnick, Blossom, and Amulius (their District Five escort), who were all speaking in depth about the upcoming games, almost as if they were viewing it as entertainment. It made Ansel sick to his stomach. He picked at the food with his fork every so often, knowing that he wouldn't be able to stomach it.

Eventually, dinner ended and most of the group retreated to the living space. “You're not eating either?” Ansel quietly asked Electra as they sat alone at the dining table together.

“The games makes me sick. I-I can hardly even think about eating.” Electra whispered.

“Me neither.” Ansel sighed. “I’m going to go sit on the balcony, if that’s alright with you.” He announced to her as he stood up from his seat. She only nodded.

He bit the inside of his cheek again as he walked out of the dining room and onto the large balcony, where he could just barely hear the sounds of the Capitol parties. He sat down on the cold wood floors and leaned against the glass railing, just so he could get a view of the Capitol.

“Why did you do it, Ansel? Why did you volunteer?” He heard Finnick ask from behind him.

“Why do you think?” Ansel responded, glancing up at Finnick as he sat down next to him.

“You can’t just… you can’t just kill yourself for me.” Finnick sighed.

“That’s the beauty of it, isn’t it? I won’t be the one killing myself. Someone can just do that for me.” Ansel shrugged.

“That was so stupid, Watts. So goddamn stupid.” Finnick groaned.

“I needed to protect you, Finn. I couldn't just lose you. You're - you’re one of the only good parts of my life.” Ansel murmured.

Finnick could only chuckle. “Don’t get too sappy on me now, Watts.” And with that, everything was silent.

━━

AUTHORS NOTES (ANGIE) : so -diggorys wrote this and I've been anxiously waiting to publish it because I love it so much and it means the story has officially started!

We hope you guys like this and comment down any predictions you have for this story and how you are liking it so far. What do you think of Finnick and Ansel's relationship? Of Electra? Blossom? Joaquin? Let us know!