Late in the Reception (@othcrhalf)
His heart is still pounding. More of that same feeling that he’s had ever since the Reaping, of waiting for the other shoe to drop. For so long, he’s been so composed. So perfect in the public eye. Keeping his head down, keeping quiet when necessary, letting the Capitol fill in the blanks for him with what they want to see. Now, he keeps stepping out of line. It’s hard not to think that he’ll have to pay for it somehow.
But, then again, what can they do to him that they aren’t doing already?
He turns his back on the crowd, but he knows it’s useless. His fight with Cyprian will spread like wildfire. And, even for those who weren’t close enough to hear it, it’ll be easy enough to fill in the blanks. What could they be fighting over besides Harbor?
He resolutely doesn’t look for Harbor in the crowd. But who he sees first is even worse: Robyn. He can’t imagine them taking his failure in stride. Not when Harbor’s safety in the Games is his responsibility. When it’s his duty, as a Mentor, to get sponsors. And not when Robyn’s already been disappointed in him before. Thought he cared too little; that he didn’t do enough.
“There’s no use in pretending that was—” he can’t even think of anything, anything at all he might have caused a scene over. He waves a hand—his uninjured hand—vaguely. “About something else, is there?”