Up All Night // [Glamour/Warren] {Blitz}

Warren -

He shook his head, smiling ever-so-slightly as the glass littered the sidewalk and the drink splattered over his shoes. Standing beside him was the epitome of everything that Warren disliked about Capitol life. The drama, the glamour - literally, the Glamour, good lord what a name - everything polished and trite. Oh, people liked to think they were special, and Glamour Kinkade wasn't an exception.

"This is me being loose," he said, meeting the Gamemaker's eyes with what might have been a glare. "What the hell are you wearing? And was the glass really necessary? There's no need to be dramatic."

A second too late, he realized how hypocritical that sounded. He wasn't exactly throwing a tantrum with his voice cool and calm, but he was letting himself be bothered by something so small. This was no time to be neurotic, if there was ever a right time.

Warren -

What do you think the Games are, my good chap?

He could not deny the life and death and love and grudge, for those were precisely why the Capitol slobs watched the Games. He always found it so disgusting, the deaths, but could never seem to tear himself away from his screen. Shaking his head in exasperation, he noticed the other man's expression turn cold, or blank in the very least.

Resisting the urge to roll his eyes, he nodded.

"Yes, yes, those things are a part. But you don't understand, nobody ever does. They're so human, with everything written on the tributes' faces. It isn't drama! It's simple. Maybe the twists and turns seem dramatic to you because you're simple-minded, but if you would look with your eyes you would realize that the victor stands from the very beginning, apart from the rest. All you have to do is look at their faces the minute before the gong rings. Look at their alliances. Look at how they present themselves. If everyone would look, they would know."

He kicked a piece of glass away from his foot and turned away from his colleague with a heavy sigh.