CHAPTER 9
FEELING HUMAN

ATLAS was incoherently drunk within the next hour. He was now sleeping in the middle of the party, slumped against the table where his friends sat. The group of Capitol elite had begun to draw on his face as he snored away. Photographers snuck in and jumped at the chance to capture Atlas Pacuri in his current state.

Bex, on the other hand, was left alone to her own devices. After abandoning Atlas, she loaded up a plate with scones and finger sandwiches and found the first empty table. It was situated in the way back of the party, so not many could find her. She watched the photographers swarm Atlas, and then found Phoenix chatting with a group of friends. As she stuffed her face with small tuna sandwiches, Bex realized that this was the first time during her whole trip that she was alone with her thoughts. Even with the rowdy guests and the band playing as loud as they could, Bex felt at peace. Sleep hadn't even given her this kind of comfort. She could finally think.

You make me nervous.

Bex rolled her eyes. Gods be damned. The only time she's had a moment to herself and the first thing she thinks of is fucking Finnick Odair.

What kind of game was he playing here? He couldn't have really meant his words in any kind of ... flirtatious connotation. Bex wasn't one of his clients and it didn't seem right. She scoffed outwardly at the thought.

And then, her thoughts drifted to Plutarch. Now that was someone playing a more serious game. As Head Gamemaker, she expected as such, but his tone was just as confusing as Finnick's. Except on a much scarier level. He wanted the Games to mean something, but what exactly did that entail? An arena with greater stakes? Raising the age requirement for tributes?

Her train of thought was interrupted when she noticed someone at her side. Bex looked into the beady eyes of an Avox and saw the fear, anguish, and grief in just a short second. The Avox's lips were in a steady line as they handed Bex a small note from their silver tray. She took the note in when they set it down in front of her and murmured, "Thank you."

They weren't used to be acknowledged, it seemed, because the Avox walked away before they could hear her.

The note was folded in two. Bex carefully opened the flimsy paper and took in the fancy handwriting. She blinked, wondering if she recognized it. This didn't look like any of her past clients', but how was she to really remember a person's handwriting. It wasn't Phoenix's either. She was studying the writing for so long that she almost forgot to read the actual letter.

Want to head out of here?
– F

Bex's brow furrowed. She stood from her chair, crumpling the paper in her hand, and peered through the crowd. It didn't take long to find the culprit at his table full of Capitol women, wiggling his fingers at her. Bex's teeth grit. He was so lucky he didn't write his name on this note. How could he be so oblivious with the consequences of them talking?

She gestured for him to come over, to talk within the shadows of her table. After pressing a soft kiss to one woman's cheek, he strode over to the back of the party.

"You want to go?" Finnick asked, one brow quirked upward.

Her jaw clenched and she began pounding her fists on his chest. "Do you realize how dangerous it is to give me this?! What if Snow finds out you wrote this and sees us leaving together?"

"So you do want to leave."

Bex's eyes went wide.

Finnick only chuckled. "Okay, Bex, who's gonna tell him I wrote the note? The Avox?"

She crossed her arms over her chest and muttered, "Fair point."

"I also told them to cover for me if they see me leave, tell the other Avoxes and waiters that I left the party early because of a headache." He smirked proudly at his idea.

Bex tilted her head to the side. "Why do you want to leave early? This should be a big night for you – client-wise, that is."

"I don't need the interaction tonight. I do get pretty tired of it, you know." Finnick glanced over his shoulder, finding Atlas snoring away at his table, cheek sinking against the glass. "I also thought you might want to get away from your drunk date."

Bex followed his stare and sighed heavily. She had an inkling on how tonight was going to end: Atlas sloppily hailing a car back to her hotel and then him trying to have his way with her before falling asleep again from all the alcohol in his system. But ... maybe this was a better idea. He had already paid her last night, and it would definitely last her throughout next week for groceries. She was willing to do anything to save herself from this embarrassment.

She faced him sharply. "Meet me outside at the gates in five minutes. I'll take care of Atlas and my escort."

He sneered, "You got it, Flower Girl."

Finnick disappeared before she could reply. Bex quickly ran off and found the same Avox that had approached her earlier. The person seemed shocked to see her again and held their tray up in defense. Bex didn't want to scare them any further, so she asked in her sweetest voice possible, "Can you please get me two sheets of paper and a pen?"

When they realized she had no ill intentions, the Avox set off and returned minutes later, paper and pen waiting on their tray. Bex smiled at them and wrote out two short notes. The first one was for Atlas, and she detailed that she was feeling ill so she left the party early. The second one was to go to Phoenix, and it just about said the same thing, but Bex made sure to add at the end, Don't worry. I'll see you tomorrow morning. After folding both of them in half, she instructed the Avox where to place them and they nodded curtly.

Slowly, their beady eyes slid to the direction of the gates, where Finnick's shadow could be seen in front of the bushes. They turned back to Bex, mouth sealed shut. "Thank you," Bex whispered, "for all that you do."

The Avox's stare went soft and they bowed their head. Bex smiled before running towards the gates, and then slipped past the active crowd. Everyone seemed too drunk to notice her leaving, even Snow, as he leaned against the bar with a fifth glass of champagne in his hand. The band played even louder.

She found Finnick on the side of the gates, hailing a car over to the side of the road. Luckily for them, all the outdoor photographers had left hours ago, and the only people outside were a drunk Capitol couple fornicating in the bushes. Bex's upper lip curled in disgust as Finnick hauled her inside the blacked-out vehicle before anyone could see them leaving together. He jumped in quickly after and told the driver they were going to the Starmorning hotel.

The car ride was completely silent. Granted, it was only ten minutes, but the silence was somewhat ... comforting. Bex felt like she could finally feel relief. She released a breath of air she hadn't known she was holding in and leaned back against the seat. Finnick watched her with a hint of a smile, but when she looked over, he turned away.

The driver wouldn't accept payment from Finnick once he pulled up to the hotel. "For you, I'd do anything," he said gratefully, and Finnick didn't push him on the subject. The two thanked their driver before slipping out of the car and heading into the hotel. Finnick entered first, and Bex followed behind after a few minutes, careful of any wandering eyes. They met at the elevator, where they both tried to look inconspicuous and bored, but it was funnier than they imagined. Bex did her best to stop herself from laughing as Finnick pretended not to see her.

He was staying on the last floor in the hotel – the penthouse – while Bex was a few floors below. She stared in awe at the suite as he held the door open for her. In all her years, she had never stayed in a penthouse. No matter how popular she had become. Never ever. Bex wasn't one to care about fancy things either, but this ... this was incredible.

"You've never been in a penthouse before?" He asked, slipping off his shoes and heading for the bedroom.

She snorted, "No, never. This is amazing. Did the hotel just ... give this to you?"

"I asked nicely," he said with a shrug.

Bex was baffled at the reply. She turned to face him again and saw him in the doorframe of the bedroom, tugging off his shirt. Immediately, she spun on her heel and covered her eyes. "Woah, okay," she blurted. "Um ..."

"Don't act like you haven't seen a guy without a shirt, Bex Nassar," he chuckled.

And he was right. The urge to remove her hands was far too tempting –

"I just didn't expect you to get naked," she scoffed.

"The outfit was too tight and I wanted to be comfortable," he replied defensively.

Bex slowly removed her hands, but kept her back turned. As she heard him changing just fifty feet behind, she became almost too focused on the drink cart situated next to the door. Glass bottles filled with different color liquids were placed along the cart, as well as fancy glasses. Bex took a small glass and picked the bottle filled with orange-gold liquor, knowing instantly that it was brandy.

"Alright, ready," he said as she took a long sip of the liquor. Bex turned and swallowed hard at Finnick's gleaming smile. "You already helping yourself to refreshments?"

She shrugged, but her insides were beginning to form in knots – for reasons she didn't know of. Finnick wore a loose, white V-neck, revealing just a hint of the freckles that dotted his chest, and a pair of striped pants that hung low on his hips. Bex almost spat the brandy back into her cup as she studied him. No wonder why he's why the Capitol Golden Boy. He was built like a god.

Eventually, she claimed, "You look like you're ready for bed."

"Well, I am kind of tired," Finnick laughed as she sucked down the rest of her drink, wiping the excess off her mouth. He leaned coolly against the door frame. "Do you want to spend the night here? You look quite tired yourself."

Were there evident bags under her eyes? Finnick just outright confirmed it. Setting her glass on the cart, Bex sauntered across the penthouse floor, heels clicking hard against the wooden surface. She gazed over his shoulder and noticed the exquisite decoration in the bedroom, as well as the large bed set in the middle. Gradually, she met his eyes again.

"That doesn't sound like a good idea," she confessed. "We can't have people finding us, seeing us. Well, I know that I can't have that."

"I won't let any of that happen to you."

His tone was softer, gentler, like Atlas' kisses. Bex felt like the wind had been knocked out of her, and her eyes averted back to his. He was staring at her with sincerity. Nobody looked at her like that except for her family. Nobody cared about her like that except for her brother.

His voice was suddenly an echo in her mind: You make me nervous.

Bex cleared her throat, looking to her feet. Finnick exhaled and rubbed at the back of his neck. "Look," he muttered, "I just figured you got night terrors like me. I always seem to sleep better with someone else in the room."

Her brows crossed. "I'm not like one of your clients, and you're not one of mine. I don't want to –" She stopped herself and rubbed under her eyes. "I would just sleep here for the night, okay?"

"I wasn't asking if you wanted to have sex, Bex," he quipped, hands shooting in the air. She swallowed hard at his answer, but didn't recoil away. "Is that ..." He paused. "Is that what you think of me?"

She needed to think before she opened her mouth again. Finnick's expression twisted and he crossed his arms over his chest, revealing the small shark tooth necklace underneath the collar of his shirt.

"I didn't mean it like that," she finally replied. "It's just ... that's what these parties are for. This is my debt to Snow and the Capitol citizens. I assumed you dealt with clients the same way. You know, um ... selling yourself." Her hands fell to her sides, and she smoothed out the creases in her skirt. "And despite my hatred for it ... C'mon, even you know that the Capitol can't pay for everything. The clients help with the ... essentials."

Finnick shook his head. "I haven't dealt in anything as common as money in years. I'm fine on my own. As far as these parties go, I tell myself that I'm here to provide company. I guess, in a way I'm ... 'selling myself,' but I'm never paid by my clients. Or as some might call them," he smirked, "my 'lovers.' They give me secrets."

He was never paid? That didn't make any sense. How could someone pay with secrets, and how valuable could those be when their lives were on the line? Bex opened her mouth, but she could hardly form the words. Finnick clapped his hands before she could question him further and asked, "So how about that sleep?"

She blinked and wiped the sleep from the inner corners of her eyes. Bex was tired. It was probably best not to get into the nitty-gritty of his agreement with Snow, and besides, it was his business and not hers. Getting on her tiptoes, Bex looked over his broad shoulder again and huffed, "We should just sleep in the same bed. Not even mine looks that nice and I want to say I've slept in a penthouse."

He giggled. His sun-kissed skin flushed for the shortest second. "And I thought you didn't like me."

Bex sent him a glare before sprinting into the bedroom and flopping onto the mattress. It was rather uncomfortable that she still had on her tight dress and heels, but the memory foam was all too surreal. She could just about fall asleep right now, even with the lashes on. Finnick offered her some of his clothes to wear, and despite how tempting it was, Bex declined. Leaving with those on might look more suspicious and that was the last thing she needed. This wasn't even suspicious in the first place, but photographers and gossip channels ... they could spin this to look like however they please. She wasn't about to be a headline news story with Finnick Odair.

After kicking off her heels, Bex pushed herself further on the bed and laid her head on the pillow. It felt like she was falling asleep on a cloud. She grabbed the small blanket at the foot of the bed and tried curling her legs under, but the tight dress made it even more difficult. Finnick crossed the room, running a hand through his hair and sliding under the comforter. It might've looked odd if someone were to find them: Bex laying on top of the sheets while Finnick slept underneath.

They were quiet for a few minutes, both trying to fall asleep to the sound of each other's breathing, but even with the imminent fatigue that would soon wash over her, Bex found a million questions lingering on her tongue. Her back was to him, and then she flipped herself over onto her spine. She stared up at the ceiling and saw a large mirror. With an arched brow, she muttered, "Are you kidding –"

Finnick snickered, "I know." He was laying on his back too, staring at their reflection in the mirror.

More silence. Bex didn't want to think about how her makeup would look after sleeping with it on. She still managed to pluck off the lashes, though, and it felt like a weight lifted off her eyes. "Can I ask you a question?" She said, setting the fake lashes on the side table.

He placed a hand beneath his head, and Bex tried to not stare at his muscles flexing in the mirror. "Yeah, sure."

She glanced to him at the other end of the bed. "Have you ever dated one of your 'adoring fans?'"

"No," he replied quickly before she could finish her question. And then, he murmured, "Well, I've tried – for them – but it ... things like that don't work out for us. I used to think if I dated one of my clients that their love would almost ... make me love them, but it didn't. Obviously. It's always a one-sided kind of love."

Bex nodded. "That's what I thought. I think Atlas is trying to date me, but ... it's not real. I've never dated anyone for real before. But I know this is not how it's supposed to be." She sighed longingly. "I think I want to date someday, and it's been offered to me by someone I like ... but I don't know."

One side of Finnick's lips curled. His eyes flickered to Bex's. "Does someone have a crush?"

His sea-green irises melted into her dark brown ones. Bex began to imagine Angelo as if he was really in the room. She sighed and rolled her eyes. "This sounds so stupid to talk about," she scoffed, tugging the blanket higher on her bare shoulders. "There's this guy in Seven. He works at a meat stand and he asked if I would have dinner with him." She paused. "I declined. It's so easy for us to lose the people we love. And I don't know when I'll ever be ready, and what if he's trying to use me–"

"We regret all the chances we don't take." Finnick frowned. "I learned that the hard way."

She met his eyes in the mirror. "With who?"

He hesitated, awkwardly sinking underneath the covers. "There was this girl I mentored named Annie. She won the Games before Johanna. I ... I really liked her. But this agreement –" He shook his head. "It really fucks with any relationship we ever want to have. At least, it does with me."

Bex went silent.

"Take your guy, Atlas, for example," Finnick continued. "He's a client, still part of your agreement with Snow. If he thinks a real relationship is going to come out of it, he's out of his mind. He's buddies with the President, so he should know that."

"I think he does," she assumed, "but because he's so close with Snow, he can disregard whatever he wants."

Finnick was the silent one this time. Bex swallowed hard and rubbed at her nose. As she watched their reflections in the mirror, she thought about Atlas' first words to her – how he really saw her – and she understood now. Finnick's eyes were empty in the mirror; she could see the worry and isolation and trauma in them, just like her own. His mask had fallen off, and she really saw him. He was no longer the charismatic Capitol pretty boy, but a scared Victor filled to the brink with loneliness and honesty.

She could relate to this Finnick.

"I'm just so ..." Her voice was foreign to her own ears. It cracked slightly, and Finnick looked at her again. "I'm so fucking tired of doing this. You're promised peace after the Games, but the Games don't end after we leave the arena. They continue on forever. Nobody ever really wins." She bit down on her bottom lip. "I miss feeling human."

"I miss feeling love."

Bex turned her head and drank in his stare.

Finnick smiled the tiniest bit. "We should all be able to find real love someday. We've been robbed of it for too long."

She swallowed hard. Suddenly, her hands were itching to interlock with his, to feel the warmth of his sun-kissed skin. Two lonely souls intertwining to become one.

But she stayed still.

"I'm gonna sleep now," he whispered, sitting up and turning off the light on the bedside table. His head hit the pillow instantly. "Goodnight, Bex."

She released a heavy exhale and stared into the mirror again. Bex didn't fall asleep until she knew Finnick had.

━━━━━━

A/N: phew.....looooots of feelings in this chapter, and it's just the beginning of a lot of feelsy chapters ahead 🥴 I also just finished prewriting all of act i and I can officially say now how excited I am to reveal this wild ride to y'all!!!