THREADS OF AMBITION: CORIOLANUS SNOW

RIGHT WELL

After visiting the warehouse and finalizing details with the team overseeing its operations, a confirmed date for production in hand, I concluded my business. With my departure scheduled in two days, the evening presented an unexpected opportunity to reconnect with the past.

Heading downstairs of the hotel, I made my way to the designated meeting spot, the anticipation of seeing Sejanus palpable. The air seemed charged with a blend of nostalgia and curiosity, as the echoes of District 12's history collided with the prospect of shared moments in the present.

"I thought you ditched me," Sejanus says, his appearance now transformed into a blue jumper.

"I am a woman of my word," I reply with a smile as we begin our walk to his favorite location, according to him.

"Here, people don't have expectations like in the Capitol," Sejanus explains. "They have a bar with performances."

"Like a lounge?" I ask, slightly confused.

"No, not like that. It's a lot less sophisticated, and there are people dancing," he says, shaking his head to emphasize the contrast. The prospect of experiencing District 12's unfiltered energy intrigues me as we venture into the heart of the less formal, more lively atmosphere he describes.

As we walk, Sejanus's words paint a picture of a different world, one far removed from the polished expectations of the Capitol. His blue jumper blends in with the life of District 12.

"It's raw, real," he continues, trying to convey the essence of the place. "People dance freely, not bound by societal norms. You'll see."

Curiosity fuels my steps as we approach the venue. The distant sound of music and laughter begins to fill the air, setting a contrasting tone to the formality of the Capitol.

Sejanus leads me into the lively bar, a stark contrast to the refined ambiance I'm accustomed to. The cacophony of laughter and music creates an atmosphere I find challenging to navigate. My wariness is evident as I glance around, overwhelmed by the boisterous crowd.

Sejanus, however, seems quite at home, almost amused by my discomfort. "Don't worry, Cordelia. They're harmless," he reassures me, guiding us through the crowd.

As we approach a group of men in jumpsuits similar to Sejanus's, I feel a surge of anxiety. Instinctively, I cling to Sejanus's arm, my eyes wide with apprehension.

Sejanus grins, introducing me to his friends, "Guys, meet Cordelia. She's from the Capitol."

The group looks at me with a mixture of curiosity and surprise. One of them smirks, teasingly asking, "Capitol? What brings you to this corner of the world?"

I stammer for a moment before Sejanus jumps in, "She's just checking things out. Be nice, okay?"

The guys exchange amused glances, and one of them extends a hand, saying, "Welcome to the real world, Cordelia. Enjoy your stay."

"Thank you," I say, still nervous. My arm has not left Sejanus, and I have no intention of letting it go anytime soon. The atmosphere here is loud and wild, a stark contrast to the Capitol's refined elegance.

"So, Capitol baby. What things are you checking on? I doubt you're here for fun," one of Sejanus's friends asks as Sejanus leads us to a table by the window.

"I'm here for work purposes," I tell him. "Remind me of your name once more?"

"There's nothing to remember if I haven't told you. My name is Igor," he says with slight hostility.

Ignoring him, I turn to Sejanus. "I'd like to leave."

"You're staying, and no, I'm not doing this to be mean," he says. "I'm doing this because you're my friend."