Reverie // -Katelyn oneshot- Part 4 in a series

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KATELYN PERSIMMON

*The following post is set during the year of the 78th hunger games*
Read part 3 here Click me

“And a big, warm welcome for our special guest, Katelyn Persimmon, victor of the sixty-ninth hunger games!”

The crowd clapped and Katelyn took the mic graciously with her free hand, and held up the bottle of champagne in the other. “Thanks for the introduction cutie, but come on this a club, who needs a speech from little ol’ me when we need to get the party started!”

The crowd whooped and she popped the cork of the bottle, spraying the people closest to the DJ’s stage as the music started up again. It pounded in her ears, almost in time to her heart. This is what she lived for. Partying always made her feel happy after watching those poor kiddies die in the games. Who was it this year? Mercy something and another Izar? She really out to go home one of these days and make their families a pie or something.

She made her way through the crush of bodies, stopping here to move to the beat with a gaggle of girls, stopping there to grind with a boy that caught her eye. The club pulsated, dozens of people moving as one organism. A sweaty, drunken mess that she could just lose herself in. The lights, the music, it all made her feel so alive. She made her way to the bar and ordered an Amaretto Sour and then another, giggling like a schoolgirl when a total loser tried to flirt with her.

Someone tapped her shoulder, but she brushed it off without looking. They tapped her again, more insistently this time.

“Like, oh my god, can’t you see I’m busy?” she said, inspecting her ruby red nails before turning around to give whoever it was a withering look.

Oh, the fun police.

“Hello, Harold.” she said over the top of her drink.

“You’ve got other places to be, Ms.Persimmon.”

Katelyn rolled her eyes and finished her drink. “Fine,” she whined. “But I’m not happy about it. This place knows my song.” She followed him a little unsteadily all the way to the limo. Once inside, he started to reprimand her. “You really should pace yourself. You can’t get blasted this early in the day when you have so many other functions to attend.”

Katelyn snorted. “Okay, Mr. Serious. Like I’m gonna get drunk off of two Amarettos.” Harold stared at her deadpan until she started laughing.  “Okay, okay, so maybe someone bought me a couple apple-tinis before that,” she said holding up three fingers, “But c’mon Harry, like a girls gonna turn down free drinks.” She punched him lightly on the shoulders. “Live a little!”

Harold smiled that toothy grin. “I’ll miss our little chats.”

It so nice of the capitol to give her a personal assistant to look after her. He’d even helped her kick the morphling habit. Of course, she didn’t remember ever starting to take it in the first place, but memory loss was something that tended to happen when you mixed hard drugs with alcohol. That and the nightmares. Sometimes she dreamt that he was torturing her, but they were just that. Dreams. He was such a good personal assistant after all. But he also looked sad today. Cookies always cheered him up, maybe she should bake a batch for him when she got back to her apartment. Who didn’t love cookies?

“In vino veritas.”

Katelyn shook her head, feeling suddenly tired. Her brain felt foggy and her mouth tasted weird. She breathed into her hand and sniffed. Had she been drinking?

“Where the hell have you taken me now?” Katelyn demanded. “Is this a limo? How long did whatever you did to my head last this time?”

“We’re cutting you loose, Katie.” He said, sounding almost sorrowful. It took a few minutes for that to register, but when it did.

“You’re letting me go?” she said in disbelief. “After all the hell you put me through, just like that?

Harold shrugged.

“I think we’ve held you long enough to make a point. Almost four years of your life you can’t get back. Consider it a gesture of goodwill?”

“Fuck you.” She spat.

“Promises, promises.” He said in a sing-song tone. “It really is a shame that there are some things I wasn’t allowed to do.” He lunged forward, grabbing her forearms and getting into her face.

“Kiss me and I'll bit your goddamn tongue off—” A fury she hadn’t thought was possible gripped the very fiber of her being. This man, no this animal—

But he released her and sat back instead. She tried to slap him, but she felt dizzy she missed. How much did I drink? True to form, he ignored her outburst and started talking again, sounding almost rueful.

“We were so convinced rebel leadership saw you as some sort of figure head. We had so many plans for you to be a sleeper agent for us. But if they haven’t made a move yet, they probably aren’t going to. And now we have a different district to worry about.” Harold shook his head. “Of course, that’s not your problem, it’s mine.”

He rubbed his forehead and grimaced.

“Fuckin Arbor Halt. What the hell made him get off his ass for once?” he muttered as he shoved her none too gently out of the limo. Katelyn wobbled on the stilettos for a second, a million thoughts racing through her head. She felt sick.

“What the fuck is going on? Why are you telling me this?”

“Why indeed.” He whistled, grinning the entire time. “In vino veritas.”

“What were we talking about?” Katelyn said innocently. 

“You were about to go to that new club and I was telling you that I’m being reassigned. You don't need me anymore.”

“Aw, but I need a personal assistant!” she said with a pout. Harold chuckled warmly.

“No, I don’t think you do. The keys to your apartment are in your pocket. See you around!” She waved goodbye as the limo pulled away and started for the club, but then couple of teenagers walked up to her, holding books that bore the tributes and tokens logo and whispering to each other.

“Hey Ms. Persimmon, can we get an autograph, maybe a picture?” Katelyn giggled coquettishly and winked at them. 

“Anything for my adoring fans, but please call me Katie!” she said with a dazzling, perfect smile.

She had a feeling she was forgetting something, but it probably wasn't that important. 

table coding (c) ghosty