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DISCLAIMER:

There are several concepts, characters, and real life things that I use and/or mention in this stiry that I don't own. These include but are not limited to the Hunger Games and Finnick Odair.

I used Panic! At The Disco lyrics to start each section. The song titles are cited with the lyrics. All these songs were written and performed by Panic! At The Disco and produced by DecayDance, a subset of Fueled By Ramen. By using the lyrics in this story, I do not claim any involvement in the writing, performing, or distribution of these songs.

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A/N: A reviewer on my multi-chap, When Life Became A Game, asked if I ever considered writing a chapter from the POV of a Capitol woman and I told her no, but maybe I'd do it for a oneshot. I had mentally noted it as something to do "at some point", but then I got super inspired by listening to an old Panic! At The Disco playlist while studying for my biology exam. So I wrote this. Each section starts with a P!ATD song. I promise not all their songs are about sex, but these seven are. You can listen to them via YouTube playlist here goo. gl/ JKPbmor on Spotify here: goo. gl/ kHK8M

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I got so sick of being on my own

Now the devil won't leave me alone

It'a almost like I found a friend

Who's in it for the bitter end

.

Our consciences

Are always so much heavier than our egos

I set my expectations high

So nothing ever comes out right

.

So shoot a star on the boulevard tonight

I think I'll figure out with a little more time

But who needs time?

.

Turn off the lights, turn off the lights

Turn on the charm for me tonight

I've got my heavy heart to hold me down

Once in falls apart, my head's in the clouds

So I'm taking every chance I've got

Like the man I know I'm not

.

Turn Off The Lights

Eva was not the type of girl that hired a prostitute. She had no desire for empty sex regardless of how "mind-blowing" it was, so she didn't see the point. Her friends would talk about Gloss Glister with his golden locks, and his sister Cashmere. They'd giggle about how they didn't plan on trying that, but if you just stopped thinking it was almost better that way. And a select few of them could talk about seeing Finnick Odair's sea green eyes darken like they did in his victor special and know that it was because of them. She didn't care about those things, though. Not until an off-hand comment at a water party turned her entire world upside down.

"If you try really hard, you can pretend it's real. You can actually think he really loves you."

And suddenly, she's already calculating in her head if she can afford him, because since her boyfriend left she's been living out the constant rejection and depression of her childhood, and she's tired of it. She wants to feel that someone loves her again, even if it's only for a night with a man who "loves" half of the Capitol. If that's what it takes, then who is she to judge? So she excuses herself to grab another glass, and casually asks questions about options. And when she goes home she sits at her computer and clicks "order", adding the date to her calendar and hoping that she can pretend too.

Let's get these teen hearts beating faster, faster!

.

So testosterone boys and harlequin girls

Will you dance to this beat and hold a lover close?

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Lying Is The Most Fun A Girl Can Have Without Taking Her Clothes Off

Finnick is on point, as usual. There's too much at stake for him not to be. So when he checks the comment box and sees "Wants love not lust, a prince not a prostitute", he does it, even though it makes him even more sick than usual. She chose to have dinner first, and as he sits in one of the best restaurants in the Capitol eating a food he can't pronounce, he finds himself using words, looks, touches, that he usually reserves for the girl actually loves. Although it makes him absolutely miserable regardless, there is usually a clear distinction. Finnick does not love other women, he fucks them. But suddenly he has to love this woman too, and guilt rains down on him, not just for saying "I love you" to someone else, but for the look on her face that says she's one hundred percent buying it.

I led the revolution, in my bedroom

And I set all the zippers free

We said, "No more war, no more clothes

Give me peace.

Oh, kiss me!"

.

Hey! Hey! We are a hurricane

Drop our anchors in a storm

Hey! They will never be the same

A fire in a flask to keep us warm

.

'Cause they know, I know

That they don't look like me

Oh, they know, I know

That they don't sound like me

.

You'll dance to anything

You'll dance to anything

.

Hurricane

Her friend was right, she feels loved. She's honestly surprised; she wasn't expecting this from a district whore no matter what anyone said, but in that last moment where everything falls apart the last comprehendible thought she has is:

He loves me.

Somewhere deep down she knows this isn't true, but as his lips linger on her neck and he whispers something about being beautiful, she finally feels like she's worth something again. Not just worth something, but worth something to one of the most beautiful, perfect people on the planet.

But all good things come to end, and as the novelty wears off and she realizes where she really is, naked in bed with a man who didn't love her, she can't help but burst into tears.

Well only hours before, after he had left

She was fixing her face in a compact

There was a terrible crash

There was a terrible CRASH

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Build God, Then We'll Talk

Finnick is…annoyed. Of course he's seen this before, the woman who suddenly has a conscience again, but after the love act, he doesn't have the emotional energy to deal with it. It is one thing to…be a prostitute in the true sense of the word. There's no making nice at dinner, no cuddling up afterwards, no smiling and pretending to actually like the person. As long as he does all the right things in the right order it doesn't matter.

But this, this is different. Because not only does he have to be courteous, he has to fake love. And while he's done this before in a sense, gone to dinner and smiled at cameras, and pretended, he's never had a girl who wants to believe it. They usually want it for status. Not for actually feeling. That's something entirely different.

But Finnick has learned to do what he's told, and he knows that the act never ends until he gets home. Not home as in the Mentor Tower, or a penthouse suite in the Fashion District, but District Four home. So he pretends to be sympathetic, and rubs her back and talks about how of course he understands that she was feeling lonely so she decided to buy another human being and have that person pretend to love her so that she could deceive herself.

Because that's what any rational person would do.

Finnick has to stay the night either way, so he figures he mind as well make it as tolerable as possible.

And isn't this

Exactly where you'd like me

I'm exactly where you'd like me

You know

.

Praying for love

In a lap dance

And paying in naivety

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But It's Better If You Do

Finnick is confused as hell when he sees her again on the same trip. After the meltdown last time, the last thing he expected was to have her do the same thing all over again.

Which means he should have expected it, because that's how his life works.

But when he asks, in a non-threatening, flirty way, of course, she assures him that it isn't about sex this time, but just having someone to talk to.

And of course Finnick calls BS, because people don't bring him in to talk.

And sure enough, talking turns to touching, and touching turns to kissing, and kissing turns to feeling, and then clothes are dropping, and bodies are moving, and Finnick almost laughs because it's so fucking typical. Him and Johanna have had this so many times that they have a running bet from trying to decide who has more of an effect on the opposite sex. Any time that clothes come off in less than an hour one has to pay the other twenty bucks.

Finnick knows that the only reason Johanna hasn't backed out is her pride, because although he pays her quite often, she's lost a lot of money.

Asleep in the hive

I guess all the buzzing got to me

Well, I'm still alive

At night you're body is a symphony

And I'm conducting

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The Calendar

She's almost offended by how shocked her friends are when they see the photographs in PanemHEAT Magazine. Apparently they had decided she was asexual. She laughs and says that those feelings just weren't "awakened" yet. And then they want all the dirty details. She knows that she won't be able to tell this story without some extra courage, so she dumps a shot of vodka into the glass of pink water in front of her.

And she tells them, play-by-play, how it goes. The one's who've seen Finnick before smirk and nod at her, and those who haven't make yearning sounds and give her jealous looks.

And she's happy, because for once, she actually fits in with the group of socialite girls she got stuck with, and she's even the center of attention.

More to the point, I need to show

How much I can come and go

Other plans fell through

And put a heavy load on you, I know

.

There's no more that need be said

When I'm inching through your bed

Take a look around instead and watch me go

Go, go

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New Perspective

Finnick doesn't know what to think the third time. She doesn't say anything when he shows up at her apartment; just latches onto his lips in an overly aggressive kiss. Finnick follows her, like he's supposed to, and when she starts pulling him toward the bed he decides that she's over the love thing and lets a little bit of his frustration leak out. She willingly accepts it, squirming under the sheets as his lips trail all the spots he knows she loves.

Finnick doesn't say a word this time. It's honestly a relief to him, because this is what he's used to. Empty actions in the dark of night. And this time he can leave as soon as it's over, he can go "home" and wash the entire experience down the drain with the glitter.

She seems almost upset when he gets ready to leave, and he expects some kind of speech or meltdown, but she just says "thank you", and shuts the door.

A heavy heart on the boulevard tonight

Shooting stars watch me fall apart tonight

.

Turn off the lights, turn off the lights

Turn on the charm for me tonight

I've got my heavy heart to hold me down

Once it falls apart, my head's in the clouds

So I'm taking every chance I've got

Like the man I know I'm not

.

Turn Off The Lights

She knows she can't keep doing this. Finances are generally not an issue for her, but even she cannot afford to hire Finnick Odair every time she feels lonely. She couldn't even afford to get him for dinner the last time.

Finnick Odair is expensive.

She briefly considers checking out Gloss instead, but immediately chastises herself for even thinking that. It's one thing to repeatedly hire Finnick. She's okay with being addicted to Finnick. But once you start bringing in other people it's addicted to sex, a nymphomaniac, and that's not okay.

So she puts on her fuzzy pajamas that she doesn't let anyone see, and goes to bed with a heavy heart.

And as she falls asleep her last thought is:

I can't pay him to love me.

And she realizes that she's okay with it, because she's doesn't think that he's what she really wanted anyway.

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A/N: So that's that. I never write third person omniscient, so I'm not sure how I feel about this. I'm a first person girl, but I can't write Capitol people in first person very well.

Hope you enjoyed, I like feedback :D

-cindella204