Chapter Text
Katniss
“Smile, sweetheart.”
Haymitch wasn’t drunk yet, but he would be soon enough. I had learned early on that it never took him long. It would certainly take him even less at a party.
My head throbbed with a headache that hadn’t stopped since I came out of the Arena four days ago. Or was it five? I hadn’t bothered keeping track of time. It seemed so unimportant. At least my outfit was comfortable enough, better than some of the things I’d worn. Cinna’s designs had certainly been worth it — I doubt I’d be standing here without them — but that didn’t change my opinion on heels. The ones I wore now weren’t bad, though. Not very high. But I wasn’t going for as striking of a look as I had been during my time leading up to the Games, according to Cinna. The dress I had on was a soft yellow that swayed around me in waves. Like a candle rather than an inferno. Still on fire, but not blazing. The paint on my face was similar. I looked a little more like myself, but smoothed out. Nothing flashy. A look fit for a lover. More specifically, a grieving lover.
I sucked in a breath as, somewhere above my head, Claudius Templesmith introduced me to the room.
“And now, ladies and gentlemen, the one you’ve all been waiting for! The underdog, the girl on fire, your Victor of the 74th annual Hunger Games, Katniss Everdeen!”
The gathered crowd cheered. The room was done up in what had become my colors: yellow silk banners, strings of lights in reds and oranges, a huge cake in the shape of a flame with an arrow blazing through it. There weren’t that many people here, at least according to Haymitch. There would be a bigger, grander party at the end of my Victory Tour that would come in six months, held at Snow’s mansion rather than here in the ballroom of the Tribute Center. A room I hadn’t even known existed until I was brought to it. But the crowd still felt overwhelming.
With a small shove from Haymitch, I stepped into the room of cheering people. Hands reached out to touch me without reserve. My instinct was to shrink back, to swat them away. But I was already in trouble with Snow, and surely he was somewhere, watching. I had to learn to play along. So I kept the smile on my face as people congratulated me or told me how sorry they were for my loss. I didn’t think they were actually sorry, though. Not in the way they thought they were.
Luckily, much like my prep team, these people liked talking so much they never realized when I didn’t. Drinks made their way to my hand without my needing to fetch them. I tried delicious foods, but I still didn’t have the appetite to enjoy them. I was twirled around in various dances with various partners. Most of the people here were my top sponsors, and they loved making sure I knew that. I supposed in a way I owed my survival to them. But I couldn’t scrounge up any real appreciation when all they’d had to lose was money, not their life. I didn’t even want to be the one standing here. There was a list of people that should’ve walked out of that arena before me. They loved to visit me in my nightmares.
The party might’ve been going on for minutes or hours when a woman came up to me, immediately wrapping me in her arms. “Oh, Katniss, I’m so sorry for your loss!” She squeezed me tightly and the food I’d consumed threatened to spill over. The overly sweet smell of her perfume consumed my senses. I didn’t breathe until she finally pulled back, though she kept her hands on my arms. That’s when I saw her nails.
I’m not sure why they were the trigger. There was plenty of red in this room. But the shade, dark with a purple undertone, screamed of blood.
She kept talking, but I was no longer registering her words. My soft candlelight dress disappeared, in its place a black jacket, trousers that had been ripped at for other uses. Dirt covered my hands, my face. My hair was in its signature braid. I could not hear out of my left ear and dried blood still ringed it. My hands held a handful of berries that, if consumed, would kill me in minutes.
“They don’t have to have a winner,” I said, but only I could hear it. My hand held the dark fruit out to Peeta who looked at me in confusion. He opened his mouth to speak, and that’s when the final wolf mutt came pounding out of the forest.
I turned at the sound of it, saw it coming straight for me. In that moment, I knew it had been sent for me. Maybe it was from President Snow himself. But right before it could take the death blow to my throat, Peeta stepped in front of me, and it was him instead that the mutt sank its teeth into. I could feel the scream coming from deep in my gut, ready to rip through my throat. And I think, this time, the rest of the party would hear it, too.
“Whoa, there.”
A hand on my shoulder brought me back to the present, out of the blood stained memory of Peeta dying in my arms. Had I been falling?
My eyes were already on the Capitol woman’s face, so it was her reaction I saw first. A look of surprise, a real flush on her cheeks showing underneath the one painted on. A look of sudden desire in her eyes. When I turned to see who it was that had hold of me, I was met with golden hair and stunning green eyes. The face was vaguely familiar, but in my state, I couldn’t come up with a name.
“I think our Victor needs a break from all the dancing, don’t you?” The golden man didn’t wait for an answer. He used the hand on my shoulder to turn and guide me towards a secluded balcony I hadn’t noticed before. If I wasn’t on the edge of a full blown panic attack, I might’ve questioned him, demanded why he thought he could just drag me off. But somewhere, my brain registered that he was helping me. There was something about the way his hand rested on my shoulder. It was different from how I had been touched all night. I didn’t feel like an animal displayed for petting, an object to be drooled over. The touch was steady, protective, even. Dare I say, safe?
A breath of relief left my lungs as we stepped out into the night air, cool on my heated skin. I felt my senses start to come back as the panic ebbed, the last night of the Games floating away to a less present spot in my mind. Once we were safely out of the main room of the party, alone on the small balcony, the hand on my shoulder lifted. I clung to the railing, taking in a few deep breaths.
“Thank you,” I said, because I don’t know what would’ve happened if I’d been left in there. Actually, I’m pretty sure I would’ve started screaming, and I don’t know what Snow would do to me if that happened. The last thing the Capitol wanted was a mad Victor.
“You’re welcome.” The voice was smooth, but less performative than it had been with the Capitol woman. “You looked like you needed an escape. I’ve been in that position myself.”
I turned to look at him, and this time, with his face came his name. Finnick Odair. The District 4 Victor who was the youngest ever to win the games. The darling of the Capitol.
“What are you doing here?” I asked, then clarified, “At this party?” I hadn’t recalled seeing any other past Victors in attendance.
Finnick leaned against the railing casually. “I have business here later tonight. Figured I might as well busy myself with a party while I waited.” He shot me a dazzling smile. “And I just had to meet the girl everyone’s talking about.”
I frowned and turned back to the open air, looking out at the many tall buildings, the lights that never seemed to end. “I wish they weren’t," I mumbled. The sooner they stopped, the better. It would probably take at least a year, until they had a new shiny Victor to drool over. If I made it that long.
I felt Finnick’s eyes on me, but I didn’t meet his gaze. I was still thankful for his rescue, but I couldn’t deny that I was wary of him, too. I knew the rumors as well as anyone did. He was always seen in Capitol, always someone new on his arm. Never the same person twice. And he never stayed the night. The golden playboy, I heard him called on television.
How could he stand it? Stand them? He was a Victor, too. He had to know that they don’t really care. But maybe he didn’t, either. Maybe that was the point.
“Wanna get out of here?”
His words brought me out of my head and I turned to look at him with a brow raised. “Back to the party?” I’d rather jump off this balcony. “No, thank you. But please, don’t let me stop you,” I said, motioning inside with my arm. I’d like to stay out here and avoid it all for as long as I could.
Finnick chuckled. “No, I meant here. The party, the Tribute Center.”
“I can do that?” I still felt like the trapped Tribute I had come here as. “Where would we even go?”
He shrugged, still so casual. “I’m sure I can get us out. The party’s been going on long enough. They’ll be too drunk to notice your absence. I have an apartment here, it’s not far.”
“An apartment?” I tried, and failed, to keep the accusation out of my tone. “Why would you have an apartment in the Capitol?”
If Finnick cared one way or another about my quick judgement, he didn’t show it. “I’m here often enough for business. Just made sense. And certainly, I can afford it.”
Certainly he could. And now, I could, too.
I wasn’t sure how much to trust Finnick Odair, with his charming smiles, his Capitol apartment, the seemingly lack of disdain that he had for this place and its people. But he was a Victor, too. Someone born and raised in the Districts. A Career district, though.
But his company couldn’t be worse than what was waiting for me back at the party. “All right, let’s go.”
Finnick had clearly been to the Tribute Center quite often since his Games. Which made sense, considering how long ago he won, how many years he’d been pulled back here as a mentor. He led us down hallways I hadn’t noticed or hadn’t been allowed in, pretty smiles and murmured words getting us through all the security checkpoints. Maybe there were some benefits to becoming an insider here.
I hadn’t seen him order one, but there was a car waiting for us by the time we exited. Finnick opened the back door, grinning. “Ladies first,” he said in just a slightly tipped Capitol accent.
I raised a brow. “Shouldn’t that be you, then? You’re the pretty one.” I climbed in before he could react, but I heard him laugh. A small, satisfied smile curled on my lips. I refused to let anyone see me only as a broken girl that needed rescuing.
The trip to his apartment took roughly five minutes. We stayed silent through the ride and the walk inside the building. As we took the elevator ride up to the top floor, I mused, “Top floor seems a little risky for a Victor.”
I knew without looking at him that he understood my grim meaning.
“Oh, there’s no need to worry about that.” Finnick’s voice was still casual, breezy, but there was an edge to it that hadn’t been there before. “They know I would never dare it.”
He didn’t elaborate, and I didn’t ask him to. Even away from the Tribute Center, I was wary of my tongue. I could say too much sometimes and was still working on filtering my thoughts before saying them. People always said I was quiet, but after taking out anything potentially rebellious, there wasn’t much left to say.
“Make yourself at home,” Finnick said as he unlocked the door to his apartment and swung it open. “I don’t often have guests.”
I wasn’t sure what to expect from Finnick’s Capitol apartment. I didn’t think it would be as glitzy as the people here are, but surely it would have some kind of flair to it. Something that told me this was the room of the most beloved Victor in Panem.
But it wasn’t this.
Sparse felt like too light of a word to describe the place. It was as if Finnick had been handed the keys and decided to do nothing more. The entryway revealed an open floor plan, which certainly didn’t help. My eyes went to the kitchen first. There was an island to eat at, but no stools. At the center was a woven basket that contained one apple and one banana, the latter being too browned to be useful beyond baking. There was a bread box, but no bread inside of it. I didn’t dare open the refrigerator.
The living room, which connected seamlessly to the kitchen, wasn’t much better. A light gray couch with an icy blue throw blanket lazily tossed over it. A small table next to it held a dying plant and a book someone was in the middle of reading. In the corner by the door was a coat rack I’d missed upon entering. That was about it. There was room for plenty more, of course. But Finnick hadn’t seemed to care to do more than what was here. Maybe this place really was just for quick business visits.
“I know it’s lacking . . .” He trailed off.
“Everything?” I suggested.
“Personality,” he concluded, then motioned with his hand to a closed door. “Come, my room is a little better.”
It was much better. The bed took up most of the room and was swathed with bedding in various colors of blues and greens. I wanted to kick off my shoes and curl up on it, put the day far behind me. On the bedside table, there were frames with photos of Finnick and a younger woman, Finnick and a much older woman. One contained only the photo of a fluffy white dog that looked to be as big as a bear.
Laying in front of the frames was a worn piece of rope, not very long in length, but enough to make some simple knots. Ropes weren’t my specialty, but I’d watched Gale whiz snares out of them for years.
The rope felt out of place, but I didn’t question him on it. Something told me it was personal, and Finnick and I had just met.
“Better,” I said, turning to face him. “I might actually believe someone lives here.”
“Yes, well, I try not to be here often.” I didn’t miss the word try. So maybe Finnick wasn’t as pleased about his Capitol adventures as the cameras would make one believe.
“I couldn’t imagine coming here enough to need a place,” I said, my face twisted in disgust at the thought of coming to the Capitol on a regular basis. I realized I’d bypassed the filter again and quickly trained my face into one more neutral. “I just mean, I would miss home so much. Being away from my family.”
My nerves must have shown on my face because Finnick only smiled. “You can speak freely here, Katniss. The first thing I did when I got this place was get rid of any bugs. Just in this room, so it’s less suspicious. I check every time I return.”
I felt my shoulders relax. Ever since I returned from the Games, I had to be on my best behavior. Say only the right things. Head up, smile, grieve, be grateful, repeat. But if Finnick was being truthful, and I don’t know why he would lie, I could finally say what was on my mind without fear of the consequences.
I plopped down on the edge of Finnick’s bed. “Well, in that case, I’d rather get a place in Hell than in the Capitol.” The comment earned me a hearty chuckle from Finnick.
“That’s more like it,” he said, grinning down at me. At my confused look, he added, “The real Katniss Everdeen.”
“Oh, I don’t know about that.” I looked down, twisting a dainty gold chain around my wrist. “The real Katniss Everdeen died in the arena.” And this Katniss, apparently, was doomed to turn every conversation dark.
Finnick sat down beside me. “All of us lose a version of ourselves in the arena, Katniss,” he said in a gentle but firm tone. “But you’re still here. Which means the real you is here, too.”
I looked up at him under my painted lashes. I felt vulnerable in a way I didn’t allow around loved ones, let alone strangers. But it’d been so long since I’d been in my woods, the only place I felt comfortable enough to let my guard down, and even I could only hold it up for so long. “What if I can’t find her?”
Finnick’s smile was soft, and so was the hand that found mine. “You will, Katniss. I promise.” He studied me, concern pinching between his brows, but he only said, “It’s going to be hard for a while. But it’ll get better, especially once you get home. I promise.”
Finnick
I was lying to her, but what else could I do? All night I had watched her. So many times she had transformed. At the beginning of the night, walking in with a smile and her head held high. The perfect mix of confidence and humility. She was not cocky like others I had seen. Like I had been. Maybe they would’ve chosen that route, had her story not ended in heartbreak. No. Katniss Everdeen could not walk in too confident. Because they would not love her if she brushed off Peeta’s death. And I didn’t think she wanted to, even if I didn’t think she loved him, either.
From the humble Victor, she became the grieving lover. Accepting embraces, even getting teary eyed at times. I don’t think she really knew how good of a performance she was putting on. Good enough for them, anyway. But I could see there was a whole other world happening in her head, that her body was going through the motions on autopilot. That was fine, as long as that inside world didn’t take over.
I saw the moment that it did.
I had promised myself just to observe. There was no denying I was intrigued by the Capitol’s latest Victor. So different from most, and not only because of her star crossed lovers plot. It was hard for all of us to focus on the Tributes we were supposed to be mentoring when Katniss seemed to demand attention. My Tribute died on the first day, a rarity for a Career district like 4, so I had more time than others to watch her during the Games. I was somehow rooting for her and begging someone to kill her at the same time. For I just knew that Snow hated her. No Victor truly came out a winner, but the ones that ticked off Snow in the process? Death would’ve been less painful. We all agree.
So because I had watched her, and because I’d seen so many fellow Victors fall into the same state, I knew I had to do something. Get her out before she started screaming her head off. I was surprised she went so easily. I pegged her as the stubborn kind.
Some of that returned once she came back to herself. I saw in her next look that she’d put together who I was. Surely she’d been thinking of the many rumors that have spread about me. I couldn’t blame her. I could see on her face the little trust she had given me for getting her out of that room had sunk.
But I must’ve done something right between the journey from the party to my apartment based on the way she was looking at me now, the raw fear in her question. This was not a side of herself she showed to everyone and I couldn’t place why she was showing me. Maybe it was more simple than I was making it out to be. At the end of the day, Katniss was still just a young woman, freshly eighteen, who had her life flipped upside down. Surely she was already having nightmares. And even more surely, Snow was breathing threats down her neck. Katniss Everdeen was scared.
And so I’d lied to her.
I couldn’t bear making things any harder for her at the moment. She would learn soon enough. Haymitch, always too blunt for anyone’s good, would tell her all the things they’d do to her, her loved ones. All of Snow’s cruel ways of maintaining his control. I hadn’t brought her here to scare her more, but rather, keep her from making things any worse. It was the role of a mentor, really, but I knew Haymitch was somewhere drunk off his ass by now.
I watched once again as Katniss transformed before my eyes. She sat straighter, took her hand from mine, blinked away tears before they could even dare to appear. “Right,” she said, her voice neutral in a way I knew was forced. Her wall was back up and she looked angry at herself for letting it slip. She took stock of where she was, looked me up and down, and stood. “Why did you bring me here?” On the defensive once again.
She thinks you want to fuck her, the dark voice in my head whispered before I could stop it. It’s what all women, and men, really, assumed when I got them alone. Most of the time, it was what they wanted. Maybe bringing her here, and especially into my bedroom, hadn’t been the right call.
I sighed tiredly. “I was just trying to help, Katniss.” All I wanted to do now was crawl into bed and sleep until the nightmares forced me awake, but I still had a client to see in . . . I glanced at the clock. Less than two hours. I’d have to get Katniss back soon. “I apologize if I made you uncomfortable.”
“You didn’t,” she said, but I didn’t believe her. She wasn’t looking at me. “I just don’t know why you care. You don’t owe me anything, you don’t even know me.”
“Because I know what it’s like, Katniss. You have no idea what comes after the arena.”
This got her attention. She looked at me with a mix of curiosity and something else, something close to both anger and fear. “What do you mean?”
Fuck. This wasn’t the time for this conversation. Some of her wounds needed to heal first. “Nothing. I just wanted to look out for you. I do it for all the new Victors.” That was a lie, unless they’d been my own Tribute. The others had mentors to look out for them. But maybe if she thought this was normal, something I did for everyone, she’d relax. Before she could reply, I stood. “I’m sorry, it was inappropriate to bring you here. Let’s get you back.”
Her body stiffened. “Do I have to?”
God, she looked so young in that pale yellow dress, the thought of the swirling party crowd sending her into another near panic. Mentally, I cursed Haymitch for leaving her on her own. I tried to soften my features for her benefit. “You don’t have to go back to the party. Let’s just get you to your room in the Tribute Center, yeah? That’s where they’ll expect you.”
I watched her exhale. Not fully relaxed, but not near as tense. “All right.”
We made the silent trek back to the car I’d called. I always had a driver at the ready when I was in the Capitol. We drove back to the Tribute Center in silence.
“Would you like me to walk you in?” I asked when the car pulled in front of the building.
Katniss seemed to contemplate this, then shook her head. “No, I can make it. But . . . thank you. For helping.”
I smiled, because I could tell her thanks didn’t come easily. “You’re welcome.”
She started to get out, but I stopped her. I should just let her go. Katniss hadn’t exactly opened up, nor did she seem like she wanted to. But knowing Haymitch, I had to at least give her a way to reach me. He was a good man, but troubled. I didn’t know how much help he’d be to her back in 12, and I couldn’t in good conscience let her enter her new reality alone.
I asked my driver, an Avox named Renalde, for a pen and paper. He supplied it and I quickly wrote down my number, holding the paper out to her. “You’ll have a phone in your new home, if you didn’t before. Here’s my number. Call me if you need anything, okay?”
Katniss seemed hesitant to take it, but at last she did. “All right. Goodnight, Finnick.”
She closed the door and I watched her walk into the building. The guards, of course, recognized her and let her in. Everyone knew who she was now.
I sat back against the seat. As Renalde started the route back to my apartment, I realized that was the first time she’d said my name.