"You want me to do what?"
Camille Brazen's voice was surprisingly calm as she faced her mentor, Georgia. Her hands twisted expertly around a wire, reshaping it every five minutes into something new with a different function. For any avid fan of the Games, they knew it was the same wire that she had plucked from the cavernous Cornucopia during the bloodbath of the 72nd Games. Eighteen years old at the time, Camille had believed to be safe from the Reaping, but that didn't seem to be the case. Her name was chosen, and now, she was living that same horror all over again.
The announcement of the 75th Games and the third Quarter Quell brought Camille's worst nightmare into the light: that she could be sent back into the arena. There were only three other women victors from District 3, and one was Georgia, who was permanently disabled after the 56th Games ended with her having both of her legs amputated, post-infection. The other two were Wiress, the victor from the 38th Games who was one of the most intelligent inventors of the district, and the third was the winner of the 67th Games, a girl Camille had never met. She had been totally ready to throw her under the bus, given the chance, until Georgia and Haymitch Abernathy, the only victor District 12 had seen up to last year and its only mentor, had come to her with a crazy idea.
They shared a worried look, before Haymitch said softly, "We want you to go in- volunteer if you have to. Although, that shouldn't be a problem as far as competition is concerned."
"So the reaping has to be rigged now, even if you are asking for my permission," Camille said to Georgia and Haymitch, who nodded in admittance. Camille sighed, feeling hear heart drop as she leant back into the couch. She knew Georgia, who she was immensely close to, wouldn't be asking her for just anything. So, she had to ask, "Why?"
"That's the difficult part to explain. Keep in mind, the next words that are going to come out of my mouth cannot be repeated to anybody at any time, not even to me or Georgia," Haymitch said, looking over at Georgia. She nodded at him, then gave Camille a motherly look that told her to follow Haymitch's request. He turned back to me and said, "You know that Seneca Crane, the Gamemaker for the last few Hunger Games, has been executed for allowing Katniss Everdeen and Peeta Mellark to live. There has been a plot in the works for a few years now, and it has now been set to motion with Katniss' actions. We need Tributes to be in on our plan to... well, help get them through this at whatever cost."
"What's in it for me?" Camille asked Haymitch. He met her eyes evenly.
"A chance at freedom. Glory. Whatever it is you want. If you do not make it out of the arena, we will see to it personally that your family and loved ones are cared for," Haymitch said, leaning forward in his chair. Camille had spent many of the past seasons of the Games in the Capitol, in the VIP areas. Although her youth and Georgia's expertise kept her from being a main mentor, she had spent much time with the other victors, and had come to know that Haymitch and Chaff from District 11 consistently reeked of alcohol. But today, the stench was but a hint, and that's when Camille knew how serious Haymitch was being.
He met her eyes, somehow sensing her shift in opinion, as he told her, "This is our only hope, Camille. We've already signed on Beetee, as well as members of Districts 4, 6, 7, 8, and 11. You're the last piece of the puzzle."
She stared at him, and sighed, asking, "Who are my teammates?"
Haymitch breathed out, leaning back against the chair as Georgia leaned over to squeeze Camille's knee in pride. Haymitch went on to list who Camille would be allying up with in the next coming weeks or days, then Georgia took over as Haymitch left to fill in whomever was in charge of the apparent rebellion.
The next week or so went by scarily fast for Camille. Of course, at District 3's reaping, Georgia's name was plucked from the jar, and Camille stepped forward to take her spot, despite the sound of her family's screaming. She fought back the tears and kept a straight face on as Beetee's name was called, and he dutifully stepped up beside her, taking her hand in his as they stood, a source of solidarity, in front of their District.
After the worst deja vu possible in saying goodbye to her family and friends, Camille was back on a train to the Capitol. She had wracking nightmares for the few nights the trip took, the same nightmares that had haunted her during her Victory Tour. Images of the people she had killed in the arena ran rampant in her mind, as well as alternate futures where they were still alive and in her life.
Camille had never thought she would be happy to see the Capitol. Although some victors never returned for the rest of their lives, it was a common scene to her. Snow liked to keep the younger and more likable tributes around, as they were sources of admiration and gossip alike.
She hadn't taken two steps into the Remake Center, when a seductive voice called out to her, "Camille Brazen."
Georgia, who was a stickler for manners, shook her head imperceptibly at Camille, who rolled her eyes in response before turning around saying, as polite as she could manage, "Finnick."
"How are you, my darling?" pretty boy Finnick Odair said, taking her hand in his and lifting it to his mouth. He smelled like sea salt and citrus, the scent of his District 4, and his eyes swirled like currents as he locked her in with his stare. "I have to admit, I was a bit... disappointed when you volunteered."
In response, Camille narrowed her eyes. "Oh? And why is that?"
"I might have some difficulty killing someone I know is so in love with me," Finnick said. Camille rolled her eyes openly at him this time, although Georgia looked like she wanted to strangle her for her rude behavior. She got close to Finnick, and he said, "Oh, cozying up to the idea of our alliance?"
"You are so lucky we have an alliance, or else you'd be the first person gone in the arena, understood? Just to know where we stand," Camille said sweetly as she bounced away to find Beetee. Finnick smirked at Georgia, shaking his head as he chuckled.
"You've sure got your hands full with that one, don't you?" he asked. Georgia sighed, walking with him around the room and saying their hellos where appropriate.
"She's fully committed to the cause... now, at least. I heard you were a bit of a hard sale as well," Georgia said as Finnick visibly winced. She smiled gently at him and told him, "You and Camille are more alike than you two care to admit. I think you'll see that both of you have secrets you share."
Finnick looked over quickly to Georgia, but she just gave him a knowing look and entered a conversation with Seeder and Chaff. Finnick searched for Camille, and when he found her, he saw that she was in the midst of a group of Capitolites, who she was buttering up. When he entered the scene, the majority of the female and even some of the male audience turned their attention toward him instead.
"If you don't mind, I'd like to steal my ally for a few moments," Finnick said as the Capitolites all quickly turned toward each other to gossip about the quick alliance between Finnick and Camille. As two of the youngest victors there, and following the love story of Katniss and Peeta, the Capitolites quickly wove a story about how Finnick and Camille had been sneaking around between districts and falling in love with each other every time they saw each other in the Capitol.
Camille stopped listening to Finnick as she turned toward him in exasperation, saying, "Look, I really get that you want me to croon all over you and whatnot, but I'm actually kind of busy trying to get us some sponsors, okay?"
Finnick shook his head, denying what she was saying. "I just wanted to talk to you."
Warily, Camille asked, "About what?"
"Hi, Finny," a Capitol elite said flirtatiously as she passed by Finnick, who just rolled his eyes but turned to her with a polite smile and a wave. He turned back to Camille, and she could see a tint of red in his cheeks. She watched him curiously and pushed up the sleeve of his shirt, her fingers running over the serial number branded into his upper arm as she sobered immediately.
He laughed and said, "Just a bet gone wrong."
Judging the scenario for a few seconds, Camille finally gave in as she lifted up her own sleeve and showed him the same brand she had on her upper arm. She tried to crack a smile and say, "Looks like we lost the same bet."
The two of them kept their eyes locked for a while, and Finnick finally sighed, losing the act that Camille hadn't realized was an act until that moment. His voice dropped an octave as he told her, "We can't do this any more, Camille. We're not going to be these energetic, optimistic, competitive people in the arena. We can't, not if we're going to get our job done."
Camille nodded. "I am in total agreement with you."
Putting out his hand, Finnick gave Camille an irresistible smile as he asked her, "Truce?"
"Truce," Camille agreed, shaking his hand. He grinned at her, laughing.
"This time's going to be a lot different, isn't it?" he asked as another Capitolite came up, gushing over his outfit, or lack thereof. He gave Camille a reassuring smile, and as he was pulled away, Camille realized this was a completely different side to Finnick Odair than she wasn't sure anyone had ever seen before.
And she liked that side far too much.