My life was beginning to feel like a continuation of the nightmares that tortured me at night.

I hadn't slept well in days.

Someone told me once that fame looks good on screen but feels horrid in reality.

Maybe it's because you've reached the top and have nowhere else to go.

No one had noticed my depression. I was an actress; I could put on a good face and act like nothing bad was happening.

But I couldn't act when I was being swallowed up by darkness in my dreams. It was the same dream, every night. I sat in the corner of a room, nowhere to go, nowhere to run. It was pitch black and freezing cold. Something, I never knew what, was approaching. I was going to die from it. The entire dream was like this, nothing new happening, no climax.

The morning he came, I had forgotten to set my alarm clock, so I was stuck in the dream longer than usual.

The doorbell was unexpected. I didn't actually have plans for the day. I had a train back home around 8 that night. I had spent the night before putting on one of my shy smiles, parading down a red carpet, only to sit through the premiere of a horrid historical drama about the Dark Days.

I sat up in bed.

I knew two things for sure: 1) This person either knew the doorman or was able to persuade him to let them up and 2) whoever it was was going to have to see me looking atrocious.

The doorbell rang yet again.

"One moment," I called. I decided that I hated surprises, in that moment. I grabbed the bathrobe on the back of the door and slipped it on. I picked my blue towel off the ground, wrapping my hair up in it.

I opened my bedroom door, revealing the spacious loft I called my second home; the first being District One.

The loft was devoid of all other human life.

I rushed over to the door. The time on the stove blinked 10:43.

I opened the front door, apologizing even before I saw who it was.

"I am so sorry, I was in the shower and--"

I stopped as my eyes met with familiar brown eyes of the perfect human who stood before me.

"Hey," the boy said. There was an air of hopefulness and hesitance to his voice.

"Hi," I said. I was stunned and at a loss for any other words. "Hi."

"Is this a bad time?"

A stupid question.

"No," I said, shaking my head. "I'm— I wasn't actually in the shower."

He eyed the towel on my head, suspiciously.

"Come in," I said.

My thoughts began to speed up as a mental list of things to do began to compile itself in my brain.

I backed up to let him in. His eyes seemed to widen at my spectacular view of the city. I smiled, slightly, pleased that he was pleased.

I snapped out of my headspace.

"Tea," I said. The AI built into the apartment would register the order and began boiling water.

"Give me five minutes," I said, rushing back into my bedroom, not waiting for his approval.

I had five minutes to make myself presentable. My mind calculated all the ways to spend that time. One minute on clothes. One minute and thirty seconds on hair. Two minutes on makeup. Thirty seconds on teeth.

The five minutes were a hurried panic and just enough to make myself look decent.

I opened the door. The kettle was whistling.

He sat at the counter on one of the barstools.

"Hi," I said again.

"I'm sorry to come without warning," he said.

"It's perfectly fine," I said, walking into the kitchen. When my back was to him, I allowed my face to drop.

Why was he here?

I pulled down mugs, sugar, and the box of various teas from a cabinet. I slid the box over to him allowing him to choose. He handed me a peppermint tea bag and a smile.

I smile back, nervously, selecting my own tea. Chamomile.

"Two sugar, right?" I asked.

"It's one now," he said. I obliged, preparing the two mugs of tea in silence.

He sat on one side of the counter and I stood on the other.

"So what are you doing in the Capitol?" I asked. A secret part of me wanted him to leave.

"I am a candidate for secretary to the President."

A prestigious position but it didn't surprise me he had been chosen.

"How did you find me?" I asked.

"You're not hard to find," he said, taking a sip of tea. "All the fan websites have your address posted."

"Fan websites?" I knew they existed but I hadn't realized they knew my address.

"You're telling me you've never searched yourself on the Capitol servers?"

"Well, maybe at first—"

"But now?"

Some days, it was like he could read my mind.

"But now," I said, slowly, thinking about my answer, "the fame is more of a burden than a wonder."

"Most girls would kill to be you," he said.

"And I'd kill to be most girls," I said.

"Even the lower districts?" he asked.

"You understand what I meant."

His brown eyes casted downwards.

"But why are you here?" I asked.

"Don't be daft."

"Don't say you're here to see me. Do you know how many people have come to 'see' me? What do you truly want?"

"Would it really surprise you if I was actually here to see you?" he asked.

"Yes," I said.

"Then maybe I should go," he said, pushing the tea aside.

My hand moved quickly, trapping his hand between mine and the counter.

That was something I had the Games to thank for: lightning fast reflexes.

"Don't go," I said.

"What is wrong with you?" he asked, not unkindly, purely out of concern.

"I'm afraid I've gone insane," I said, allowing myself to laugh a little.

"You need help then," he said.

"And who's going to help me?" I hissed, keeping my voice quiet. I couldn't even trust my own apartment not to be bugged. "The Capitol?"

"There's medication."

"The medication feels wrong," I said. "It makes me feel off."

"Is it the Games?" he asked.

"It's the Games and the fame and—"

I stopped myself. I couldn't trust him just yet. I pulled my hand away.

"How long will you be in town?" I asked.

"A few months, I suppose," he said.

"Do you have a place to stay?" I asked. He nodded.

We were silent for a moment, sipping our tea.

"I have missed you, Cassia," he said. I almost choked on my tea.

"And I you, Pax," I said. He stood up suddenly.

"I should go," he said. "I've got a luncheon."

"Where at?" I asked, walking around the counter to show him to the door.

"Gamemakers," he said, quietly. I tensed up.

"Oh?"

"Cassie—"

"Pax, I'm so glad to see you've grown up," I said, my voice suddenly going cold. "You're really making your way in the world."

"I do hope to see you again," he said.

"If you're having lunch with the Gamemakers, I'm sure I'll see you around," I said. I opened the door. "Goodbye, Pax."

"Goodbye, Cassia."

And then he was gone.