It was easy enough to let the days that came wash over him.

He drifted along the endless stream of parties, Patrons, interviews and social events, only vaguely attached to his body. He would watch as his arm reached out to grab a waist, watched his hand cup the face in front of him. He felt the press of strange flesh against what must be his own, but only dimly.

It was easy to simply ignore the fact that he was getting fewer and fewer interviews with Caesar, that fewer tickets came until none came at all. The fact that every single one of his appointments now ended in his rooms, no matter where they began or what hour in the day.

It was, given time, easy enough to forget the last time he had left his rooms. Forget the first time the door had refused to open for him. His body would sit on the sofa, dressed in whatever was requested, waiting for some new figure to arrive in the doorway. Whatever happened between them washed away inconsequentially in the shower, and whatever memory left of it was obliterated by morphling and as much alcohol as he was allowed to summon from the console. If he was not waiting, he would sleep.

And that was all.

He waited on the sofa now, dressed in pyjama slacks, a bare foot resting on the carpet, the other on the sofa. There hadn't been a request so he hadn't bothered changing. The door chimed to announce a visitor. His face assumed an insouciant smile, the picture of ease.

"Annek?" Meghan was staring at him, struck still just inside the door.

"What's your pleasure?" came his response, following this new order of things. A beat of silence, before:

"Do you know what time it is? You haven't gotten dressed yet." She moved now, careful. She crossed to the sofa and sat by the foot he hadn't moved, gaze locked on his.

"Doesn't matter. It's just this and another appointment after and then I can sleep." Not even a shrug. His eyes followed her as she sat down.

Meghan didn't answer, dropping her gaze from his face. After a moment, she touched his knee gently. It fell open in response, towards the sofa, but she caught it and pushed it gently closed towards his other. The knee obeyed.

"Annek, please." She swallowed, trying not to make her heartbreak visible.

Annek watched her, waiting. If he recognized her, or if he saw the tears stinging in her eyes, it wasn't obvious.

Meghan sat with him for a long stretch of silence, hand moved to his shin. Her fingers squeezed lightly on his calf, as if willing her touch to imbue him with strength.

"I'm so sorry, Annek. I'm doing what I can." It was a little helpless.

"Okay."

Meghan's face crumpled for only a moment, but she steeled herself. After a deep breath, she reached her hand for Annek's. He took it immediately. She pulled him to herself, wrapping his arms around her and hers around him as tight as she could.

"I'm doing everything I can. Just don't—don't give up like this. Please."

He held her as long as she held the hug. As she withdrew, so did he. His voice was a practiced, apologetic murmur.

"I'm so sorry. This has been… really lovely, but I have an appointment I can't be late for. I hope I'll see you again soon?"

She swallowed, staring at him. But she withdrew, gathered herself, and moved to stand. He followed suit, standing gracefully, walking her to the door. "I do hope I'll see you again." His hand hung limply at his side before she took it in her own. She squeezed as hard as she possibly could, until he couldn't help but wince. She gave him a little smile.

"Don't give up."

She turned and left, and the door shut behind her.

Annek blinked, watching his hand flex. He was completely torn between being so overjoyed to see Meghan that he thought his heart would burst, and outraged to only just now see her. Wasn't she supposed to be looking out for him? But she hadn't reached out. She hadn't called or written, or shown up until now. And then, when she finally did, she had the audacity to tell him he shouldn't have things easy.

He sucked in a few breaths, hands covering his face. In a moment, it passed. He remembered he had an appointment coming up soon. He strolled to his bedroom, showered quickly before he pulled on a fine black suit meant for theater outings, tying the bowtie without looking. He smoothed his hair, ruffled it, and then smoothed it again. He settled on the sofa, waiting.

The door chimed, announcing a new visitor. His face assumed an insouciant smile, at ease.

A figure stepped in, taking in the room and his body on the sofa. "Annek"?

"What's your pleasure?" He followed the new order of things.

"It's… It's good to finally see you again." The woman, dressed in her Capitol best, came and sat as close as she could to him on the sofa, smiling brightly. She raked her eyes over him, consuming him. She snatched a quick breath before she continued.

"You know, you're a hard man to get a hold of these days. I kept hoping you'd show up somewhere and I could talk to you there, but I had to swallow my pride and… officially declare my Patronage," she grinned, trying to pay some kind of compliment. He smiled in return, trying and failing to remember her name or her face.

"To the right people, I'm easy to find." He never took his eyes off of her, matching her breathing.

She settled a hand on his thigh, and it was easy to let her do as she pleased.

-ReR-

Meghan collected herself outside of Annek's door, nose pinched between two fingers, a sob catching in her throat. She called the elevator, gritting her teeth, and positively stalked to Alyssa Twik's desk in the lobby.

"We're having a meeting. I'll do it here, but if you have an office, we're going there." Her words were a hiss of unrestrained hate.

"I'm sorry, I'm busy, and there's no coverage," came the sweet, entirely unapologetic reply. Alyssa was a cloud of coral and her smile was as wide as it was affected.

"Too bad." Meghan grabbed hold of her wrist and hauled her bodily away from her desk. Alyssa's eyes went wide, and she pulled back as hard as she could. Meghan held her wrist tight. A Peacekeeper lounging in the lobby looked up at the struggle, but Meghan beamed at him, waved her free hand, and he went back to ignoring them.

"Fine—fine! Just let go. Ugh. My—this way is my office." Alyssa tried to free herself, but pointed them in the direction of her office. Meghan didn't let go of her wrist until they were inside and the door was shut behind them. She pushed the other woman away viciously as she released her. Alyssa stumbled back, barely catching herself on the pastel desk.

"Bold of you, Ms. Sweet," Alyssa managed, her voice reedy and affected, cradling her wrist daintily.

"How dare you. How fucking dare you." Meghan advanced on her.

"What exactly did I dare?" Alyssa nipped behind her desk, taking her seat, smiling again.

Meghan stopped, watching her, and settled into a chair in front of the desk, shoulders squared and chin thrust forward.

"You will lift Annek's restrictions immediately. There's no reason for him to be under house arrest and level six censorship for over seven months. I know this is your meddling because I've already spoken with the President's office and he's classified there as a level two. You're out of bounds, Alyssa, and I won't stand for it. This has gone on far too long, and I know from talking to other Victor teams that there are more than enough complaints about you to warrant an investigation."

Alyssa stared hard at Meghan, smile falling from her face, weighing her options.

"And what proof do you have?"

"None that I'm going to share with you," came the icy reply. "We only have three weeks before the next Reaping, and he's meant to be in District Four for that, per the President's office. It wouldn't look good at all for the Capitol if our best and brightest star isn't himself, now would it?"

Alyssa watched her balefully now. "Fine. I'll reduce him to level two restrictions."

"And you'll take him out of the Patronage rotation for a month."

Alyssa shook her head, sorbet curls bouncing against her cheeks. "No. Absolutely not. He's big business, especially since having turned recluse. I'm not giving up that cut. I deserve it."

"You will take him out of the rotation for a month." Meghan's voice was steel, and she leaned forward. "He needs to recover if he's going to be himself for the Reaping and the first part of training. It's non-negotiable and I promise you I will take this as far up the chain as I need to."

Alyssa bared her teeth, snarling back, "You stupid stylists think you know everything. You think you can thread the needle and court all the parties. But me- I'm the one ultimately responsible for all these bovine Victors. I'm the one who has to manage them from when they arrive filthy and starving from the Districts, shape them into something worthy of the Games, and watch as they fritter away all the lovely things the Capitol showers them with when they're here. I'm the one who cleans up their messes. And they all make messes. As far as I'm concerned, they all deserve level seven and Annek should count himself lucky I've let him have appointments. It's not like his relevance will keep past the next Hunger Games, and then he and you will be grateful for any scrap of attention paid to him. Because we all know what happens to irrelevant Victors, don't we, Ms. Sweet?"

Meghan met her gaze, mouth downturned in disgust. "If you hate them so much, why are you here? Why not move into another sector?"

"Because I'm good at this job. And can you imagine someone like yourself? All doting and well-meaning and giving a mile where you should give an inch. You do more harm than me. They need a strong hand to bring them to bear. And like I said, I like my cut of business," she drawled.

Meghan just laughed, mirthlessly.

"So Annek gets reduced to level two censorship until he fucks up again; he's out of the rotation for three weeks; no complaints. Are we done here?" Alyssa sounded bored.

"A month."

"A whole entire four weeks. Don't push it, Ms. Sweet. I can find some complaints about you too." Alyssa leaned in.

Meghan took a long, slow breath. "Deal."

"Deal."

They shook hands, Meghan taking the opportunity to squeeze Alyssa's hand with all her might, until she felt the bones shift. Alyssa made a soundless cry, mouth falling open. Meghan turned to open the door.

"Until next time, Alyssa." It was all sweetness and light, and then Meghan disappeared, shutting the door hard behind her.

-ReR-

The woman was gone, the bed was changed, the living room was cleaned, and he was showered and as high as he was allowed to get. He drifted, half-conscious, until a sound from the console drew his attention. It sounded like a message, but he didn't get those anymore. It sounded again. And again. A rush of overlapping chimes, until some minutes later, they stopped. He stumbled up, swaying and catching himself, making his way dimly to the console.

There were hundreds, seven months' worth, and the newest was from three minutes ago.

He squinted, willing himself to stop swaying long enough to focus. From Meghan.

You have an interview at 3:00 tomorrow. Please arrive by 12:15;we have work to do. –M.