cool, cruel / vera & lionel

v e r a .

"gimme just a little bit (more)
a little bit of excess"

There he is. I clench my fists; my fingernails dig into my palm. They're painted lilac as usual. Lionel and his pack of Capitol escorts won't get any special treatment from me. I'm not gonna dress up just to see his ugly mug. He walks out to make his address and the silence surrounding me drowns him out. I'm the only Jeon in the Square today. Mom's at home, laid up in bed with a towel over her eyes. Dad's next to her, fretting. No clue about my sisters. They all seemed relieved when I told them I'd go for Lionel's presentation, so I sort of knew they weren't gonna come. Their youngest kids would probably start crying at the sight of this asshole -- he didn't kill their Auntie Marceline, but he sure talked a lot of shit about her, and they'd heard it. It's probably for the best that they stay away.

But anyway, as my family's representative, the good people of Eight have decided the best course of action is to clam up in my immediate vicinity and glance at me. I think they're waiting for me to have a mental breakdown or something, since Mom basically did. My sisters' friends are terrible gossips. Mine are too, so I never said anything about Mom struggling. But one of them did, and now everybody's acting like we'll all combust at any second. 

I sigh, take out a cigarette, and light up. People are beginning to file out of the Square, but Lionel's still up there, like he's surveying his kingdom. He is, I guess. All of Panem is his now, until next year. I walk up through the dispersing cloud; Lionel's face sharpens the closer I get. I'll never get the chance to get a good look at Marguerite Harvard, but Lionel's a very suitable substitute. 

"Hey," I say, standing at the barricade in front of the stage. I pace myself as I talk, taking drags of my cigarette, because if I don't I might end up proving the remaining onlookers right. Most of the stragglers are kind enough to at least pretend they're not eavesdropping though. The Peacekeepers' shoulders are stiff. I've been to enough parties that most of their pack know me, which means they know my sister, which means they know why I'm here. Anyway, it's not like blowing smoke and saying your piece is illegal. Not yet at least. "You got any other lies about my sister for me?"