CHAPTER 8
NERVOUS

BEX found her team waiting with magazines covering their faces in the lobby of the Starmorning hotel. They had, thankfully, booked her a room earlier in the day, anticipating how tonight's date would go. "I just knew Mr. Pacuri would invite you to the party tomorrow night!" Iliana had exclaimed once Bex revealed the news. "It's totally exclusive. I'm so proud of you!"

At least, that makes one of us, Bex was tempted to say, but held her tongue.

Iliana, it seemed, was more excited about Bex's prospects with Atlas than anyone else. Bex had a feeling Phoenix didn't like him. Her escort tended to roll his eyes whenever Atlas was mentioned and he thought no one was looking, but Bex saw. She couldn't ignore it even if she tried. Bex, however, was definitely the most upset about her blossoming relationship with the Capitol suitor. For one thing, she didn't want a relationship to begin with and expected their night together to be a one-time-thing, per usual. She didn't need anything more with him and found Atlas to be rather boring. They didn't fit right.

But Bex's newest client was also a close friend of President Snow, which made him completely and woefully untouchable. There was no way for her to get out of this one.

Iliana knew exactly what she wanted her Victor to wear tonight. "I've been saving this for a special occasion," she stated, revealing a dress bag she had hidden behind her back, "and I think this might be the night." It was a strapless dress, curving over her chest in a way that was hardly revealing, one side of the shimmering, gold bodice coming up to her collarbone and flaring out like several flower petals. The top was pinned tightly to her waist and connected to one part of the skirt, which was also flared like petals. The second layer of the skirt came to her knees in a dark green, velvet fabric. Bex had to admit that it was beautiful and probably one of the first outfits she was excited to wear.

She was playing with her eyelashes almost the entire ride to Snow's mansion, where she was to meet Atlas at the gates. It took both Phoenix and Iliana to help her inside the car, due to the dress squeezing her waist in so tightly that she could hardly bend. The lashes, however, were a different story. She could feel them every time she blinked. There were small feathers on the last few lashes that brushed against the gold glitter on her lids. Her hair was fashioned into a high ponytail with small braids woven into the sides of her head. Iliana also made sure to wrap a band of small white roses around the base of the ponytail to keep with Bex's image.

Sensing her nerves as they pulled up to the mansion, Phoenix, who agreed to accompany her tonight, patted her leg. "It'll be alright, kid."

Bex nodded, but didn't reply.

As soon as her car door opened, she was swarmed by bright lights and cameras so close that they could see up her nose. Security pushed the photographers out of the way and Phoenix did her best to cover Bex. She knew that there would still be horrible photos taken of her, plastered who-knows-where for everyone to see. "Where is Atlas?" Phoenix scoffed as they entered the gardens. "He could've warned us."

While Bex was feeling just as annoyed as her escort, she couldn't show it. She was in the enemy's territory now and everyone's eyes were on her. It was time to put on the mask. Her lips twitched at the edges as she pulled them into a fake smile and walked into the crowd.

For a party that was supposed to be only President Snow's closest friends, this place was packed. Even more than his granddaughter's birthday. It took her at least ten minutes to meander through all the people and find Atlas at the bar, talking to a group of Capitol businessmen. Bex spun around to face Phoenix and put her hands on his shoulders. "I got this," she assured him, but wasn't sure if those words were really meant for herself. "If we don't find each other again tonight, I'll meet you back at the hotel. Promise."

Phoenix smiled – a genuine smile she only saw on his face once or twice. He lifted a pierced brow. "Make me proud, Flower Girl."

She nodded quickly, plucking a glass of sparkling champagne from a waiter's tray as he passed by. Bex downed the whole glass, knowing there would be repercussions for it later. (She hoped the food table was ready for her wrath.) Releasing a loud exhale, Bex sent Phoenix a curt nod and headed over to Atlas.

"Ah, there she is!"

Atlas was already gesturing in her direction as she walked over, and all the businessmen began to ogle her up and down. Bex flashed him a pretty grin as she appeared at his side. Atlas latched an arm around her and his mouth reeked of alcohol when he spoke, "Lads, you all know Bex Nassar, right? Victor of the 67th Hunger Games?"

"Our very own Flower Girl," one of the men sneered, a cigar dangling from his blue-painted lips. Bex could tell his green hair was an obvious wig. "Course we know her, Atlas. She's quite a stunner."

"That she is," Atlas hiccupped, gazing down at her.

With her best fake smile, Bex whispered through gritted teeth, "Why didn't you meet me outside like you said? Are you half in the bag?"

"It's a party!" He chuckled drunkenly and looked to his friends. "Right, boys? We're here to have fun tonight for our friend, Coriolanus!"

The group of men raised their glass of champagne in approval. Bex's mouth hung open for a second, but she closed it before one of the men could make a rude comment. Atlas looked down at her and grabbed her chin with his free hand. Even while intoxicated, he still pressed the gentlest of kisses to her forehead, and then leaned back with glazed eyes.

"We should go dance," he mused.

Bex raised a brow. "I don't think that's –"

But then, he was twirling her, and Bex could've sworn she felt puke rising in her throat. Atlas led her to the dance floor in the center of the gardens, right in front of the live orchestra band, and brought her tightly into his arms. He did his best to sway with her on wobbly legs, and Bex mainly had to hold him upright. Some people were looking at them with judgment. This was going to be the worst night of her life. She couldn't believe she had to be subjected to this embarrassment.

Her eyes slid to the right, and in the far off distance, Bex saw the President clinking his glass with another man. Their stares connected, and he sent her his usual smile, the one that never reached his eyes. Bex felt a shiver course through her. She didn't have enough strength to smile back, curling herself further into Atlas' arms.

After twenty minutes, it seemed her date had no intention of stopping. They were by-far the slowest couple on the dancefloor. The rest of the pairs danced around, holding each other classily, and staring at Bex and her date with a mix of confusion and pity. Bex supposed that if she were in their position, she would've done the same thing. She wondered when they were going to stop dancing so she could eat. The champagne was finally setting in and her stomach threatened to groan.

Atlas cooed in her ear as the band slowed down the music. Bex lifted her head and opened her mouth to ask him if he wanted to walk away, but someone else spoke before her. It was a familiar voice, one she had never been glad to hear until this very moment.

"Can I cut in there, Mr. Pacuri?"

Bex looked up. Sea-green met her black. Finnick stood on her right in another one of his low-cut puffy shirts and a pair of skin-tight brown pants that glistened with gold in certain lighting. He held a hand out, waiting for Atlas to depart. Bex looked to her date and paused for him to move. Atlas was too disoriented to argue, and after throwing Bex a drunken sneer, he stumbled off the dance floor.

Bex looked over her shoulder and saw Snow walking off with a group of people, laughing while tipping his head back to guzzle more wine. She averted her eyes before he could see her, and turned back to Finnick. He raised a brow and waited for her to make the first move. Releasing a huff, Bex took his hand in her own and pulled him close. He placed his free hand on the small of her back, just about grazing her butt, and she hung her other arm across his neck. Her finger skimmed the back of his neck without knowing, and she was pretty sure she felt the hairs there stand up.

With their chests this close, she could feel his heartbeat. Bex swallowed hard.

"How's your night going?" Finnick asked in her ear. She almost jolted at the sound. "You don't look too happy."

"My date's drunk –"

He snickered, "I can see that."

She sent him a glare. "– And I'm here. I'd rather be anywhere other than this place."

"I'd rather be back home," he whispered, and she could feel the smile tugging at his mouth, "and on the beach. Hearing the waves. Smelling the ocean."

Bex had never been near an ocean before. Sure, she'd seen the few lakes running through Seven, but never an ocean. She never smelled the salt running off the ocean, never felt the rush of violet waves on her bare feet. The way Finnick was describing it right now ... she hoped maybe she'd visit Four someday and see it for herself.

She found herself unintentionally pulling him closer.

And then, her eyes were skimming the crowd. Her anxiety spiked when she realized she lost Snow's whereabouts. He was nowhere in the crowd. Where was that sick, son of a bitch –

"Why are you even dancing with me?" She snapped, meeting his gentle eyes. "Snow is watching somewhere. Have you completely forgotten everything I said last night?"

"Well, for one thing, I completely saved you from more embarrassment with your date," he quipped, and she rolled her eyes. "And two: do you really think I care what he does to me now? He can't hurt me anymore than he already has."

Bex wished she could be that carefree, that willing. She was jealous that he had nothing left to lose.

His eyes softened, and he looked away quickly, careful not to show more emotion. He could practically feel his lovers burning holes in his back, wherever they were in this crowd. "I just ..." Finnick sighed. "I had to come over and apologize for how I've been lately."

Her brow knitted together. "What does that mean?"

Finnick paused, weighing his next set of words. "It means ... you make me nervous, I think. I tend to ramble when that happens. Or act like an ass. I'm pretty sure I've done both to you recently."

Bex's expression went blank, but she couldn't stop herself from swallowing down her nerves. He spoke calmly, rationally, but his words held so much meaning. Her heart was thumping hard against her ribcage, as fast as a rabbit running from a hunter. She could hardly breathe.

You make me nervous.

For the first time, Finnick Odair also made her nervous. Nervous for context, for what the future held. The kind of nerves she got around Angelo, but even more powerful, if that was possible. Bex didn't utter a word, afraid to know why, even as the word hung off the end of her tongue.

Finally, Bex snorted, "I've been known to have that effect on people." She hoped that would cover her moment of silence.

It did. Finnick's lips spread into a grin and his eyes sparkled in the colorful lights around them. "It's a good kind of nervous," he promised, hands tightening around her own.

Before her heart could implode in her chest, a man approached them in the center of the dancefloor. Bex's brows furrowed with confusion. He was wearing a long, black coat with a purple dress shirt and pants underneath. His ascot was turquoise and made of sequins that glowed in the strobe lights. He smiled at Bex, and it was the first smile she'd seen from an older man in the Capitol where it did reach his eyes. And his stare was kind, like Finnick's.

Her conscious groaned, A guy tells you once that he makes you nervous, and suddenly you starting thinking –

The man cut off her train of thought as he stopped right in front of them, hands laced behind his back. "Do you mind?" He asked Finnick.

Finnick glanced at Bex before stepping away from her, and she found herself actually missing his warmth. He looked slightly annoyed as he gestured to the older man. "Of course, Mr. Heavensbee," he replied, but not before winking towards her. "I'll speak to you later, Bex Nassar."

Her cheeks must've been tinged red with embarrassment.

Bex's eyes flickered to the man before her, and she hesitantly took his hands into her own as the band began to play a waltz. She had absolutely no idea how to perform that dance and this man – Mr. Heavensbee – could clearly tell. They stepped around the music together, presenting their own lazier version of the waltz. Bex felt her hands get sweaty the closer she got to him, and she silently wondered what his relationship was to Snow.

"Sorry I haven't introduced myself sooner," he spoke finally. His tone was deep and low, reminding her almost of her father's. " My name is Plutarch Heavensbee. I'll be Head Gamemaker this year."

So that's how he knew Snow. These two were probably as close as can be since last year's Head Gamemaker mysteriously disappeared. That seemed to be a popular theme with President Snow.

"How nice for you," Bex replied through gritted teeth.

Plutarch laughed at her cynicism. "You've been to a lot of these parties, I assume? You looked kind of bored."

She released a fake chuckle. "And here I was thinking that I perfected my smiles."

"Of course, you have. You're the Capitol's Flower Girl. But all these people here are too stupid to think anything otherwise."

Bex tilted her head to the side, studying Plutarch as he snickered. Her lips stayed in a tight line, but her mind was swimming. Noticing her confusion, the Gamemaker continued casually, "I'm only here to survey the crowd, see what they want."

The music picked up speed, but Bex and Plutarch swayed as if it didn't exist. His hand stayed put on the center of her back and he watched her with the hint of a smile. Bex wasn't sure if his words were meant to comfort or perplex her even more.

"Gamemakers don't usually take criticism from the public," she muttered.

Plutarch laughed, looking off at the dancing crowd. "I'm not your normal Head Gamemaker. The rest have decided to ... stop breathing. I refuse."

Bex swallowed. She remembered when the news came out about last year's Head Gamemaker, Seneca Crane. He had vanished without a trace. Some said he escaped to District Thirteen, wanting to find the ruins of what once was. Iliana, however, had a different theory. Bex had heard her whispering to her team that she believed Seneca was punished after allowing two Victors to win. "I don't know how," she said, "but he couldn't have just disappeared. That man was murdered."

Plutarch's answering smirk said all she needed to know. Iliana had been right.

Bex cleared her throat to make up for her lack of words, and finally quipped, "You don't sound you like it here very much. But you're passionate about the Games." It came out harsh, more like a statement than a question.

Couples twirled around them like they were dancing on air, but Bex was fixated on the Gamemaker before her. The music was drowned out by the pounding in her ears. It was only her and him, dancing slow and sluggishly, but something about it was so deadly.

Plutarch shrugged at her reply.

"The Games don't mean shit," she muttered, and it was the first time she finally talked like Bex Nassar rather than the Flower Girl in the Capitol. The tone was a surprise even to her. "They were created to keep us in line – to punish us for rebelling."

"I want them to mean something again," he said, just loud enough for her to hear. "I've been inspired."

The song came to a sudden halt. The band stood and bowed while the couples around them applauded. Plutarch released his hands from hers and clapped along with the crowd, eyeing her to do the same. But Bex was stunned. She could hardly do anything but narrow her gaze.

At the last second, she raised her hands and clapped, leaning towards Plutarch to ask, "By what?"

"Many things." He didn't face her again. "But that Girl on Fire has surely sent out a spark."

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A/N: this party ain't over yet!! get ready for more party drama bc it's my fave to write 🥴

in case anyone was wondering what bex's dress looked like, I picture it like the gold and black dress in this photo of a capitol woman! except the black is green velvet!