"YOU ARE NOT SELLING THIS," SOMA GRITTED THROUGH HER TEETH, beaming illuminatingly at the flash of cameras following them. Her hand was tucked in Coriolanus' pocket, his arm wrapped around her waist, cold hand resting on her warm, bare flesh. She shivered.

"Selling what, exactly?" he whispered coldly down to her, dragging her further down the cobblestone street. "We are not taking pictures."

"No, but the world is," Soma replied quietly. "And where there are cameras, there is good behaviour. Expected behaviour. Why do you think I put your arm around me just now?"

Coriolanus made a thoughtful sound. "I thought you had caved in to your carnal desires."

Soma guffawed. "We all know you'd crack first, Mr. Snow-Lands-On-Top. I've heard that one before. On top of whom, may I ask?"

"You have a foul mouth," he tsked at her.

She grinned. "That's not what you called it when--"

Coriolanus stepped on her toe sharply. She glared at him. He gave her a slight, cunning smile.

"Cameras, remember?"

"Oh, you salty son of a--"

"Soma Plinth? Coriolanus Snow? What a treat!" Striding towards them with big, happy bounds was none other than Lucky Flickerman. Personally, Soma didn't know he could walk. She had only ever seen the top half of him on television. And she assumed someone of his... frivolity would be carried atop the backs of jaguars or some exotic animal like that.

But this was what she had planned. Lucky Flickerman had a penchant for peanut whiskey, which was illegal, but sold in the darker corners of the Capitol. Soma had purposefully led Coriolanus down these streets, despite the higher amount of camera-carrying fans. The publicity was well worth the interaction, for now the papers and televisions would be plastered with footage of Lucky, Coriolanus, and Soma. Cementing them together, forever.

Soma gave Lucky a warm hug, smiling. "Lucky! My favourite weatherman. How are you doing?"

"As best as I could hope for, darling," he smiled, putting a comfortable arm around her waist. Internally, she grimaced.

Coriolanus shook Lucky's spare hand. "Where are you off to, Lucky?"

Lucky blanched. "Oh, just, you know. On a walk. You?"

"My fiancée wanted a little fresh air," Coriolanus lied smoothly. Bless his little heart, Soma cooed. Soma had told him they needed to be seen in public, her father's orders, to create spectacle around their wedding. While convenient, it was also a lie. Even still, Coriolanus knew how to play the part, as much as he hated to admit it.

Lucky gasped. "Fiancée? Soma, you little fox, you didn't tell me you caught the most eligible bachelor in Panem!"

Soma laughed, winking at Coriolanus. "Lucky, if I told everyone, I'd have a sizable mark on my head, wouldn't I? Everyone wants a piece of my little Snowflake."

Coriolanus looked decidedly embarrassed, which was simply the cherry on top of this whole outing. Cameras flashed rapidly, before Lucky shot them a glare. The paparazzi that had been following them slunk off, clicking through their footage with eagerness.

Lucky ate it up, like a child spoon-fed honey. "That is just adorable. Coriolanus, you've got a gorgeous woman here." He gave Soma's waist a squeeze. She laughed and squeezed him back so hard he winced.

Coriolanus smiled indulgently, and held a hand out to her. "Thank you, Lucky. Make sure to keep an eye out for her in the Games. Soma's a mentor this year."

God, he was perfect. She couldn't have written him a better line herself. Now Flickerman knew her involvement. He was no idiot, he had seen Mags in the news and footage of the party. He would link the two quickly, and they would be irreparably tied in a pretty bow as a package deal. Already they were Lucky Flickerman's favourite tribute-mentor pair, and they would stay that way. Soma was sure of it.

Lucky looked absolutely gleeful. "My, this will be an interesting Game this year! Maybe better than yours, Coriolanus."

Coriolanus laughed. "Hopefully much better than mine."

"That Lucy Gray," Lucky shook his head. "What a wonder."

"See you later, Lucky," Soma smiled, kissing his cheek. "My father sends his regards!"

Lucky beamed. "Oh, Strabo! Tell him I say hello. What a fine daughter he has. Goodbye, you two!"

They waved him off. Their chipper smiles died almost as soon as Lucky's overly-dressed back turned the corner. Soma took her hand out of Coriolanus', and stepped a good few feet away from him, kitten heels clicking on cobblestones.

"Good old Lucky," Soma smiled, shaking her head as they walked back home.

Coriolanus rolled his eyes. "An actor dressed as a politician."

"Since when was the weather politics?" she jibed, smiling tauntingly. He shook his head, looking at her sharply. "What is it?"

"What are you doing?" he asked. They were passing the Academy now, those familiar old steps where Soma had spent her days following Decimus about and stealing his textbooks. Where Sejanus had been ridiculed and mocked for his morals. Where Coriolanus had emerged, victorious, with the whole of the Capitol in his palm.

"I'm walking," she replied, marching exaggeratedly.

"Soma," his voice was cold and disapproving. "What game are you playing?"

"The Hunger Games, of course," she smiled at him charmingly. "Aren't we all playing it, in some way?"

His disgust was obvious, his disdain dripping all over her. "I'm not."

She laughed. "Of course not. You're too cunning to play the Games, is that it?"

His silence said everything she needed to know.

"God, you are vain, aren't you," she shook her head. "Silly Coryo. We are all playing the Game. The sooner you recognize that, the better."

She strutted away from him, hips swaying.

SHE WAS AS IRRITATING AS SHE WAS ALLURING, Coriolanus decided. And he wanted no part in her games, whatever trickery she was up to. The problem was that he knew he was at the center of it all. In between the dresses and parties, the smiles and the spars, Coriolanus forgot who Soma really was beneath her pretty lashes and sweet speeches. She was a monster. And one of his own making.

Hot one moment, cold the next. Warm, then frigid the second later. She was trying to throw him off, to send his head spinning. But he wouldn't allow it. No, he couldn't. Not again. The only other person who managed to make him so... unsteady had been L-- her. And he was not about to fall for her tricks again.

Coriolanus opened the door for Soma, who was now silent as the grave. Her bright chatter had petered off, her thoughts swallowing her up. No doubt scheming her next ploy to confuse and unsettle him.

He locked the door behind them, his shoes sounding on the shiny marble floor. Soma took a left, vanishing into the ballroom. Notes of a piano started up. She was playing, a sweet little ditty that pranced up and down the cold entryway of their home.

Coriolanus ascended the stairs, her song chasing him down the hallways. God, he hated music. Even though this was a well-bred, refined piece, music always managed to bring his mind to her. Again and again, Lucy Gray invaded his mind. He wanted to drive her out, her and Soma both, to drown them in something hot and liquid and burning red--

Mags bumped into him. "Whoa. What did you two do out there, drink?"

Coriolanus realized he had been pacing the hallway, distracted, foggy-eyed. His mind cleared. "Mags. Apologies. I'm just... tired."

Mags smiled, her freckles wrinkling. "No worries. Just don't fall over the railing, it'll look like I pushed you."

"Perhaps that was my plan," he raised an eyebrow. "Frame you for murder."

"Ooh, don't tempt me," she laughed, nudging his shoulder. "Half the time I think about you, it's imagining your death as gruesomely as possible."

He didn't doubt it. Half the world seemed intent on slaughtering him violently. Such was the price of power and ambition. But she said it so sweetly, so lightly, that he couldn't imagine gentle Mags killing him, or anybody.

Regardless, he would see it live in a few weeks' time.

"Well, you and Soma will want to compare notes then," he gave her a little half-bow.

Mags smiled. "Get some rest. I'd like for us to do something after dinner together. I can teach you and Soma to play some games from District Four. Have you ever played batball?"

Coriolanus caught his smile before it could show. He had played batball before, with Tigris. She had hit the ball so hard it rocketed across the room and broken their Grandma'am's vase into shards. It was warming to think of little Mags and one of her siblings or cousins playing the same game, in another world. But that was the game, wasn't it? The one Soma said they were all playing. Of course Mags would want to endear herself to him, in the hopes that he might tilt the Games in her favor.

He gave her a cold look. "I'm not one for Games."

She looked startled at his coldness, and though he knew it was a ploy, she looked so genuine. "Oh. Well, that's fine. See you later."

Mags strode away, her shoulders hunched.

And that was the last time Coriolanus saw Mags Flanagan before the Hunger Games began.