pain had become a familiar companion. jack had first come to understand its language in the fields, when the bushes would prick his fingers and the tree bark would wear his hands raw, but he’d become fluent in the years to come. jack had not known pain intimately until he had been reaped. fear radiated through him and threatened to tear him in two, and then came the arena… he’d nearly died there. the draw of a blade against his skin had been so acute, so all consuming, that it felt as though his brain was aflame. there was the pain that came after the games, the emotional and physical damage that felt as though it might tear him to pieces. then came the pain of tributes, losing them again and again and again, and now pandora…
he watched her, the way that her beautiful blonde hair cascaded down her shoulders and her bright eyes sparkled, and he wanted to protect her from all of the horrible that she would be exposed to inside of the arena. but there was nothing that he could do. he’d pleaded with her, he’d tried to convince her not to go into the arena, he’d kissed her in the hopes that it might make her stay, but she’d volunteered all the same. he ran a hardened hand through his hair, calloused fingers pushing apart his dark locks, and realized too late that there was hair gel holding his dark curls together. “tsk,” he huffed, and dropped his hand to his side again. his stylist would be furious with him for this.
“your stylist did you a favor,” he murmured, “believe me.” no amount of compliments could possibly save him from her wrath, but it was the truth all the same. “i shouldn’t have any trouble getting you sponsors when you look like…” a dream? a goddess? he’d always thought pandora beautiful, but he couldn’t get enough of her in this dress. jack breathed a slow, steady breath before continuing. “queen.” he managed, offering her a little smile before she’d changed the subject. he straightened slightly, remembering himself. pandora was focused on what was to come, and he ought to be as well. “always,” he nodded, frowning at the crowds, “just wait until the stylists and sponsors have had a few drinks.” jack shook his head, some mixture of horror and amusement played across his expression. “you won’t be able to keep ‘em away.” it was bad enough on years that his tributes wore ugly outfits, but this ensemble? she’d be bound to attract a crowd. “just give me a sign if you need an out, alright?”
at the mention of sponsors and capitol officials, pandora almost physically sighed. it wasn’t that she didn’t see the importance of gaining their favor -- in fact, she was more than aware of the key role they would play in her survival. but she was exhausted. the people here were a bit different than she had expected. sure they were extravagant and privileged and in most cases haughty, but she found a strange sense of pity in the fact that they didn’t seem to know better. ignorance is bliss, her mother would always say, and when one of her stylist’s assistants asked her longingly about her “skincare regimen” and went on about how he wanted to visit district 11′s vineyards, she realized just how true that saying was. talking to these people was, in a way, refreshing, but it took a toll on her sanity. and with how hectic her day had been so far, it didn’t help that she hadn’t been able to sleep last night, either.
luckily jack was here with her, though. if she trusted anyone to be by her side in a room full of strangers like this, it was obviously him, and his expertise on how to navigate the social scene of the capitol was more than helpful. it was no secret that she was a lost cause the moment they stepped off the train here, and as guilty as pandora felt she was thankful he was here to guide her through what she had gotten herself into.
“o-- thank you,” she smiled lightly, the compliment tinting her cheeks a light pink and confusing her with the odd feeling it caused in her chest. she pushed it aside though, tilting her head at him with a grin. “then they did a great job making you the king.” it wasn’t a lie -- his attire was so regal and cut, just how she pictured the kings in the old stories to be. matched with the natural aura of intensity and strength he always seemed to carry, it was no wonder he had so many fans here to fawn over him. “i’m not sure i want to see that,” she conceded with wide eyes, uneasy at the thought. the idea of these already pompous officials downing a few drinks seemed like something she would dread. she had a feeling they were going to be the hands-y type. she huffed, letting out a breathy half-laugh at the thought of having to deal with it all on such a small amount of rest. “... is it too early to give the sign right now?” she bit her lip up at him, her tone joking but there was an obvious hopefulness in her eyes. it didn’t matter, though. she knew she had to stay either way.
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