He’d spent most of the party so far hanging out with Rory, but she’d wanted to spend some time near the pool so he’d branched off, not particularly interested in swimming. First of all, he couldn’t swim, but even if he wanted to, the nasty, long scar across his stomach from the Arena already made him uneasy to look at when alone, he wasn’t sure he could handle everyone here seeing it too. So drink in hand, he tugged his hoodie closer around his shoulders and leaned up against the wall, surveying the cacophony of activity across the ballroom. This was so different from his last ball- before it was so proper, so esteemed, but it seemed like the addition of pools and more casual wear to the mix reduced even the most prim Capitolite to something reminding him a bit more of rowdy teenagers.
Lost in thought, he suddenly straightened to attention as he realized someone had joined him, blurting out a surprised “Sorry!” for absolutely no reason at all.











