Nothing to Gain // [ 67th Gamemakers ]
Apr 29, 2014 22:41:29 GMT -5
Post by Baby Wessex d9b [earthling] on Apr 29, 2014 22:41:29 GMT -5
None of us are promised to see tomorrow, and what we do is ours to choose
Forget about the sunrise, fight the sleep in your eyes
Glamour flicked the base of his champagne flute, the ringing crystal clear even above the boom of the bass. He was in no mood to wait. He puckered up for a few quick cheek kisses before pushing his way through the crowd. The Capitolite mansion was packed with revelers, all there ostensibly to celebrate the announcement of the 67th Gamemakers. Of course, they were really present to eat, drink and take in the celebrities who would surely make an appearance. Past Gamemakers, advisers to President Snow, and if they were very lucky, the Miles twins.
Glamour would have been just as excited, had he not been above the line of sobriety. So many guests, too few champagne bottles! The moment he spotted a tight-lipped Avox, he wrapped his hand around her arm. "Champagne! We need more champagne. If there's no bubbles, there's nothing to live for. Mm?" He winked, to seal the deal. She bowed and turned crisply, shaking her head. Glamour snapped, trying to call her attention back to him, but she was gone, part of the crowd. "Well I never," he huffed, careening into another guest.
He managed to lose his flute entirely in the next round of introductions and congratulations. And yet no one, not one single soul, offered to fetch him a drink. District denizens, all of them. He smiled, let people kiss the 62nd Gamemaker ring on his left thumb. But he hated them all, their inconsideration, their utter lack of understanding. He could remember, vaguely, being like them. All charm and wit and ease. But that was before the 62nd, before the gore and glory. He had Peridot Myler to show for it, a sight better than many of the other Gamemakers. But it was not Peridot who haunted his dreams.
His breath caught, and he fumbled an excuse, the first of the night. He all but stole a glass of champagne from a young girl, who had left it on a window sill while she rooted through her clutch. He tipped it skyward, drawing the effervescence in. The bubbles tickled the roof of his mouth, nose, throat and stomach before he noticed her and her even, unflinching gaze.
Glamour brought the flute down slowly, his purple lipstick smearing the edge. He tilted it towards her, the woman who had replaced his lover. "Care for some, Cadence? I'm sure you and I are going to be sharing quite a lot these next few weeks."
banner credit: fran in converse
lyrics: adam lambert never close our eyes
lyrics: adam lambert never close our eyes