we are all party animals | [Nyte]

I wouldn't break. The moment that fucker stuck an axe in her back I knew I couldn't. But when her canon resonated through the square, her last heartbeat personified, I never expected to feel nothing. Not the nothing which, by definition, is just that. The fucks I could have given lost within a breeze just like her last breath. No, not that kind of nothing. The nothing which craved something. I knew i should have broken down. Welcomed the weakness I've tried so hard to hide seven long days. But I couldn't. A shell had built itself around me, protecting me from what should have been. 

And this was more painful than any other fate. 

The night had soon faded, turning into the bright orange of dawn. Sleep had come far too easily for a man in mourning. My dreams absent of her smiles, of the way her hands traced my scalp, humming a tune to save me from the horrors which sneaked into my dreams. Yet, I was not fully enveloped in the nothing, as I had the day prior. It was as if  fire had sprung anew within my veins. Boiling my blood and searing through them with white hot passion. 

I threw the sheets off of me, feet colliding with the hardwood floor. I was angry, at what, I wasn't sure. Not the Capitol, the Games, not even my sister. I just... wanted to spite someone, anyone. And I knew just the way to do it. Clothes were carelessly thrown upon my body, jeans two sizes too big and a shirt two sizes too small. Mother, bless her heart, was far too busy hoarding her money to buy her children child a decent outfit. 

And suddenly, I know exactly who I'm going to spite. Who to blame for the shit-show that has become my life. Mother, bless her, was about to get a taste of her own medicine. By who else, but her own perfect son. Who dared not speak against her, even when she shouted such hateful words at my sister. How she cried for the cameras, insisted that she had raised her to be so brave, so selfless as to sacrifice her life fro a child. Fuckin' lair. 

If only she knew the... real me. The me I so desperately hid from the rest of the world, fearing their judgement. Her venom, not slowly building in the absence of Lyric, no doubt eagerly released upon me, if I were to embrace the man I'd been hiding so readily. 

Happy birthday to him, motherfuckers. 'Cause I was gonna have the night of my life, even if I was paying for it till I was eighteen. (Perks of being the perfect child, Mother, bless her, tells you where she'd hid her coins.) 

My pockets are soon filled with silver and gold. It's by no means enough to be considered rich in the district of the damned, but it's a hell of a lot more than mother, bless her, let on. The first stop, was a drug store. Hands shoved in oversized pockets I made my way to the counter,throwing a lighter upon the glass sheet, a sloppy grin spreading upon pink lips. "A pack of smokes, please." 

The clerk's face is worse for wear, gravity having pulled his many chins damn near his chest. "You got the coin?" his words are muffled by the folds of skin upon his cheeks, but he need not finish his sentence. The coins are laid upon the counter, quickly snatched up by the old man. In their place was a white cardboard box. 

Time to get the fuck outta dodge. The night, had just begun. I'd rather it not be ruined by an old shit with a lazy eye. 

An old friend of mine once told me about a place. To put it simply, it was less than wholesome. I, never having even the slightest of sexual experience, always steered clear of such places. I was ashamed of where my eyes would wander. 

But... fuck it. 

The moment I walked through the doors, the ambiance assaulted me. Music so loud it seems to echo inside of my chest, the smell of sweat and booze creating their own type of intoxicating cologne. Heart matching the rhythm of the music, I pushed my way through the crowd. My hands resting upon stage, eyes glued to the men which danced. In the moment, I couldn't explain how I felt. A mixture of guilt, disgust and excitement all churning within my gut. 

Then, he touches me. Dragging my mind back into the confines of this club. His face is only inches from mine, a whisper, or what was supposed to be one, dancing above the obnoxious tunes ""I very much appreciate tips." And then he lets go. Silken fabric of his tie leaving cold space upon the back of my neck. 

I was completely entranced. Shaking hands pull out the coin left within worn pockets, holding them out to the boy. To somehow bring his face as close to mine as I had only moments prior. 'Cause if angels could speak, I'm sure they'd sound a lot like him.