I kept crying, turning my wet face against his neck. When he kissed my cheek, I startled.

I whispered back, our faces close. "You want to spend the rest of your life with a murderer? Are you crazy?" The floors whooshed by outside. "You don't know me. This isn't really me. This is the prep team and the stylist and make up and a fancy dress that I will never wear again." But wouldn't it be beautiful if he knew what he was getting into and actually loved me?

"That's fine." I smile, whispering into her ear. "When we get to my room, you can strip naked and take a shower to wash all that make up off, then show me the real you with no clothing in the way. Show me all of you."

"Okay, but you can't touch me unless I ask." I don't know what I was doing. His words felt good, and I just wanted to forget everything. I just wanted to exist.

The elevator dinged at the top floor, and we had to get up. I let him lead the way, having no idea where I was going now.

"Alright." I grab her hand and lead her my apartment, unlocking the door with a key and opening it for her.

"Thanks." I stepped in and my jaw fell open. The room was huge and just as luxurious as I'd imagined it would be. Plush carpet, beautiful trinkets, gigantic beds...

"Your family gets this whole thing? That's so crazy."

"Yup, sure does. Can't wait to see our kids running all over the place." I say, locking the door to keep out room service.

Jetta went richly red at the thought of children. "Nah, I'm not having any." She shot back. "Way too much trouble, and then they get Reaped." Now she'd made herself sad.

"You mentioned a shower?"

"That's fine. You can sign paper documents and give me sole ownership of all of them as soon as they are born. And, don't worry." I kiss her cheek, then whisper into her ear. "Capitolites don't get Reaped."

"Yup." I smile. "Sure did." I grab her hand and take her into the bathroom. "Need help getting that dress off?" I ask, eager to see her without clothes on.

(Almost time to take it to PMs or are we fading to black?)

(PMs please, after this.)

"No." I push him out of the bathroom, none too gently. Then I strip down to nothing and step into the shower. As soon as I turn it on, the water is the perfect temperature. Of course it is; why should a Capitolite have to deal with something so trivial as hot water? It makes my head hurt. After playing with the spray settings a bit, I step under the water and scrub myself. The hot water is bliss. I scrub and scrub until I'm clean, maybe cleaner than I've been in my entire life.

Then I sit down on the floor of the shower and begin to cry.

I don't deserve this.

I don't deserve to be here. Why didn't I just die with all the others?

What even matters anymore? I lived, but what's the point of that?

I weep for what feels like forever.

After I'm done, I step out of the shower, drying myself off with a cushy towel, and I dress in the fluffiest, most cozy bathrobe I have ever encountered.

"Sam?" I poke my head out of the bathroom. Maybe he's gone and I can steal one of the beds.

After getting pushed out of the bathroom, I wasn't really sure what to do so I just went to sit on the couch and watched TV.