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Finnick was eighteen and feeling very out of place.
He always thought of himself as smart, he could remember anything someone had ever told him. All of these secrets were stored like catalogs in the thoughts of his mind, ready to be used when the right moment came.
Only moments like that never did come.
He had been sold for the day, bought by Mildolf Rascall.
The man had always favored him, he couldn’t remember the first time they had met but he guessed he would have been around sixteen, maybe even before then.
Out of those that regularly requested his presence, he hated Mildolf the least.
Mildolf loved showering him in gifts and praise, he was hardly ever abusive and usually went out of his way to make Finnick as comfortable as possible.
Sometimes, after the sex, when he was laying in the man's arms Finnick would pretend that the man actually loved him. That this was what it would feel like when somebody loved you and cared enough about you.
But he didn’t pretend often, it always left him feeling hollow.
He knew deep down that love wasn’t something that you bought or showed off. You had to earn it and when you had it you kept it close always.
Mildolf did like to show off and that was why Finnick supposed he had been brought along to the President's mansion.
There was a big meeting every year when politics would be discussed.
Details about the districts were shared and decisions were always made.
Finnick learned last year from a woman named Twinkle that District Ten's population was growing exponentially and that the Capitol had implemented a biochemical weapon that prevented most women from the ability to conceive children.
Twinkle had stated that her husband was one of the main engineers overseeing the project and that it had been incredibly difficult to invent something that wouldn’t harm the cattle.
It was disgusting, but he couldn’t do anything about it.
This meeting decided the fate of Panem and only the most influential people were allowed to attend.
Of course, it being the Capitol, everything had to include a party.
That was why Mildolf brought him.
When you were an important player, influential in the Capitol, you had to want the best and be able to afford the best.
Bringing a victor as your escort brought certain bragging rights.
It meant you were important enough to be in the president's inner circle.
Finnick took in the scene of the grand hall, the impossibly high windows shone and glittered with expensive colored glass.
The guests were equally as colorful in their bright and elaborate outfits though it seemed like a gaudy pink was the color of the season if dresses, suit jackets and hairstyles were anything to go by.
He for his part didn’t have too much on, though that wasn’t anything new. The capitol seemed to revel in seeing him dressed as scantily as possible.
This being a formal occasion he was granted the rare opportunity to have a little more coverage despite it being as impractical as ever.
The sarong was fairly close to traditional, which he appreciated, and the white shirt flowed well with its loose style and golden threads dispersed. Although it didn’t button He felt this would almost be a complete outfit. It was mostly the lack of shoes that truly bothered him.
But it set him apart from the rest and he had assumed that was his stylist goal.
He looked up and saw the man of his nightmares closing in on him.
“Ah, Finnick Odair.” Snow greeted.
Finnick always felt like snow could see into his mind somehow, knowing what he was thinking even before he thought it.
He didn’t like being this close to someone that held so much power over him.
“President Snow.” He smiled back, extending a hand in greeting. Masking his fears and showing no weakness.
Mildolf kissed his shoulder as the president shook his hand and somehow the multiple exchanges left him entirely unsettled.
He felt like he was in a den of wild animals and he was the innocent prey.
Snow's look at him somehow reflected that thought as well.
“I see you are enjoying the company of one of Panem's most precious victors.” The president said to Mildolf.
Mildolf grinned cordially and slid his hand around Finnicks waist, his fingers touching the exposed skin of his chest.
“Always Mr. President. But you already know I am quite fond of this gems company.”
Mildolfs searching hands indecently brushed over his nipples as he pulled Finnick closer.
Finnick had nowhere else to look beside the president's victorious gaze.
“Now Rascall, remember the inner meeting is for officials only.” Snow chided, looking smugly again into finnicks eyes.
Reminding him of his position.
Whatever that position was he didn’t fully know. A ghost maybe, or a shadow… seen but never heard
“Of course Mr. President.” Mildolf bowed, finally taking a step back. “Though I am sure you have somewhere my pet can wait patiently for me.”
Pet.
It was an apt description, one that fit too well.
He wasn’t a real person, just something that could be toted around and played with. Like the little dogs that people sometimes dressed up and brought along for amusement.
He was a pet, used for pleasure and nothing else.
“I believe I have a suitable space.” The President agreed.
Finnick wanted to scoff. Snow was the one that sold him in the first place, of course he knew he would be here, he would have planned for this.
However, them saying this all aloud in front of him was certainly doing a good job of depressing him. Snow wasn't stupid, he knew what power words carried.
The president departed and for a while Finnick followed on Mildolf’s arm and greeted other members of Snow's council cordially. There were a few other ‘guests’ that were present that wouldn’t be attending the actual meeting either and Finnick had assumed he’d just go along with them until he was called for.
He was wrong of course.
Most others went back to change or rest with the intent of attending the dinner that would take place later in the evening.
Finnick however was shown to Snow’s personal office by the President himself.
The condescension was crystal clear.
He wasn’t a threat, he held no leverage, there was nothing he could get into that could possibly cause any trouble and if he did Snow would just punish him.
“I thought you would be comfortable here.” Snow stated, once they were alone. “There's not much by way of amusement but I heard that you liked stories.”
He gestured to several beautiful books sitting on the table by the fireplace.
“Panem’s finest.”
Finnick looked again at the books and then into Snow's sardonic eyes.
Words carried power. Only, at the moment he couldn’t think of anything powerful to say.
Out of place, out of rank, out of any sort of evil jibe that could be used to shock Snow and to make matters worse it seemed that the president wasn’t leaving until he did say something.
He knew, only he wanted to hear Finnick say it and vocalize his inferiority.
Finnick refused to look into Snow's eyes as he made his admission. “I can’t read.”
Snow knew this, it was obvious, but he could feel the slight blush coloring his cheeks all the same as he said it aloud.
He had intended on learning…really. It was mostly just a matter of finding a teacher…
“Really?” Snow replied, obviously feigning surprise following with a patronizing grin. “Well, never mind, I am sure you can amuse yourself in the meantime.”
Finnick wanted to kill him, rip his throat out with a dull knife and watch the blood flow over the white carpeting.
Instead, he accepted the sickening kiss from the man, hating how inconsequential and filthy he felt allowing this sadist to touch him at all.
The faint taste of blood lingered on his lips as Snow stood back with his privately gloating look.
“You’ve been good today Finnick.” Snow praised. “However I still expect thanks and good behavior this evening.”
“Of course Mr. President.” Finnick replied, surprised he could find his voice at all. “Thank you.”
Snow chuckled and Finnick felt like crying.
He was a coward.
The door shut and after a few silent moments Finnick turned to look out the window.
He was a pet, locked inside of a very beautiful and elaborate cage, waiting for his next master to collect him and use him as they pleased.