"I wouldn't have any regrets at all if… If… If it weren't… If… If it weren't for the baby." The words were loud and clear. The people of the Capitol screamed with joy. Their star-crossed lovers were having a child. But truthfully they weren't. For people so ignorant and blinded as them, they would believe it. They would believe anything to make themselves happier. Because definitely the murder of innocent children was something that was patriotic. And what's more patriotic than their favorite children slaughterers having a child of their own. I was furious at Peeta! Did he really expect this to end the games? It would end nothing, just continue the cycle of death and destruction that we played a part in. Did he truly believe that it would do anything besides make things worse? Peeta had a habit of making things worse. The sole cause of this mess to begin with, but somehow I always received the blame. It's the girl with the fire who burns others, not the boy who gave her the matches.
The colorful bimbos of the Capitol looked from Peeta to me. The blinding spotlight hit me right in the eyes, but I refused to look away. Haymitch tips his flask to Peeta from the font row, and he nods his head slightly in return. The baby part must have not been scripted. People begin to rise from their seats and continue to yell. The realization that my nonexistent baby and I were most likely going to be killed the next day probably hit our admirers. One of the smart ones probably pointed out the fact that Peeta and I could not both survive the Games for a second time. The people standing next to me were trained killers, they already could murder me with their eyes. A Shout rung out "Cancel the Quell!" the voice yelled. Soon another person called out the same phrase. More and more people joined in until the whole audience turned into a chant of Cancel the Quells. Peeta turned to me and smiled slightly, he thought that it could work. In response, I avoid his glance and blankly stare out at the crowd, my mouth in a straight line. No emotion. Make them think that you're strong, capable. I repeat this in my head as the chanting continues. I was always amazed by the Capitol's attachment to their Victors. People had favorites; they paid to meet them, and to do a lot more than a simple meet and greet. These strangers were screaming to save my life. They didn't know me or Peeta, or the circumstances of our relationship. They just knew the lies and bits and pieces of stories that we told them. Maybe there were no real relationships in the Capitol. Everything was for money and for show, so why wouldn't a marriage be like that? Even the false personalities Peeta and I put on for the camera were more real than their lives. Or maybe Peeta and I were a sense of hope for them. The boy actually got the girl, a reality not too common. The other victors were motioning to each other to do something. They knew they could play off of the large reaction from the crowd. Caesar whispers something in Peeta's ear and his nods giving the audience a quick wave goodbye and quickly getting up the stairs. When he nears the top Chaff, the District Eleven victor next to me pushes to towards Peeta. He must have already been aware of this reaction, probably from Haymitch. They were good friends; I've spent years watching them pass a bottle back and forth on television. His push is hard and causes me to stumble into Peeta's arms and wrap mine around his neck to look like we're hugging. I put my mouth towards his ear and begin hissing in it. "You're dead Mellark. If Snow doesn't kill you, I'll do it myself."
We're quite a pair, Peeta and I. Him in his clean white suit and bright blond hair, and me looking like death in my dark dress and even darker hair. People are wrong when they say opposites attract, but people believe it so I must continue to play the games as if they're right. Peeta and I get back into our line when he grabs my hand, nudging me to continue. I grab Chaff's and he grabs Seeder's and so on until we're all connected. We all raise our hands in unity, just the cherry on top to make the Capitol angry. Caesar swings his hand towards the curtains from the bottom of the stage and all the lights go out. We're all ushered off the stage immediately. Peeta's little outburst may have just started a rebellion.
"What was that? Are you kidding me? Do you want to get us killed!" I push Peeta against a wall, quite like I did a year previously. He says and does nothing as I shriek at him. He could easily push me off him, but he doesn't. He just remains as I yell, hit, and cry. He just stares at me blankly, the impact of what he just did hitting him. "It doesn't even make a difference anyway! We're all already dead men. You're just saving the cannon man some work." My arms loops around his neck to attempt a chokehold.
"Ah young love." Someone sarcastically says. I can't figure out which victor is was, but they seemed quite pleased with our performance out there. Haymitch pulls me off Peeta, grabbing me by the back of my dress. I can practically hear the disgust from Effie. She loved the wedding dress Cinna made me, and for Haymitch to be treating it so harshly must have made her living.
Haymitch rolls his eyes. "What are you trying to accomplish here?" I open my mouth to respond, but he starts talking again before I can. "You're not hurting him. You're 'not making a difference'." His mocking makes me shoot him a scowl. "If you're trying to hurt Peeta I would say you're doing quite the opposite. He's having a great time with you being all handsy on him. And next time you try to beat him up, avoid the face I need him looking nice for interviews." There will be no more interviews. After tonight, there will be no more of any of this. Just death and destruction. "Oh and sweetheart." I look back up at Haymitch "You should be kissing him instead of killing him. He may like that a little more. He might have just saved all of our asses, or caused us very painful deaths, but I'm hoping for the first one." Peeta looks down at his feet sheepishly. Haymitch drags us to the other room where the other victors were being held. It was small and cold and covered in white tiles. In some ways, it resembled a hospital… or a morgue. Haymitch shoots a look at Johanna Mason, the tribute from District 7, "If she tries to attack him again, I give you permission to snap her neck. Damn hormones." She smirks her black hair framing her face. She's fierce looking, probably was the one with the sarcastic comment. "Actually I take that back. Anyone else can do it except for you." Haymitch leaves the room to go find Effie or anybody to find out was going to happen. The smirk does not leave her face.
Most the victors sit in a room watching the empty stage from a television. The rest of them never went into the room or left with Haymitch to form some sort of plan. The people of the Capitol are still in the stadium, standing on their feet waiting for something. Our execution perhaps? Their chants still blast through the speakers. They're looking for Snow, but he's nowhere to be found. He was too cowardly to come to the interviews. He's probably watching the rerun in his mansion. Another screen plays the highlights of the interviews. They cut out everything after Peeta says that we got married. I'm surmised they left him in at al, even that sort of news could stir some trouble up for the gamemakers. This could alter the course of the games, make sure that Peeta and I suffer from a long and painful death. Many tributes have tried outbursts like Peeta's and none of them got away with it. But we were Victors not tributes, so the public actually cared about what happened to us. One girl was strung up by her foot and was bled out a few years ago. She spoke out during her interview about how the Games weren't fair. Apparently people in the Capitol loved her execution. Before she was killed Snow made a little speech "You claim that the games aren't fair. Now you will see the most fair decision I've ever made. You don't wish to fight, we won't make you. Traitors and rebels die dishonorable deaths anyway. You deserve the same." Something around the same lines will happen to us. Most likely he'll drain me of blood through a cut in my abdomen, to show the world the baby that doesn't exist.
"How far along are you?" I look up to see the victor from the 64th Hunger Games, Cashmere. She looks like a goddess in her white dress and her blonde waves. I decide that in the arena I want her to be the one to kill me. She looks like she would have mercy and would make it easy for someone like me. She's a career, which means that merciless is the only way to define her, yet she seemed like she wouldn't hurt me. Then I remember how fake her interview was and that she was the only person to win their games in a day. She killed everyone during the night and by dawn she was victorious.
I am about to answer Cashmere's question, but Johanna answers for me. "You seriously think she's pregnant? She would never have sex with Peeta even if the Capitol forced her to. And let me tell you, they have. Haymitch pretty much has to super glue her onto lover boy's side. She's entirely not interested in him, even though he's been drooling over he for years. Tragic I know." She rolls her eyes. "I don't know why he's interested in her. She's quite mean and not even that pretty."
"Explains why you're single" Chaff mutters under his breath and Finnick laughs. Johanna was probably the cruelest person I had ever met, but she was very pretty.
She glares at him. "Shut it stumpy." It's a low blow insulting his chopped off hand, but he just smirks to himself. "Peeta can do much better than that. He's pretty hot and his body is delectable." She winks at him and Peeta's cheeks burn bright red, and I swear he's going to start an arguing with her about me or the baby or even what she said about him, but he doesn't. There is nothing to argue. Our fake relationship is not a secret among the victors. And it is true, next to Cashmere or Johanna I am not pretty. Everything she said was true. "When does the fake bump come out?" She asks laughing. "How will you inflate it in the arena? Will Peeta blow it up for you? You can go off hunting and he can stay in a cave making sure your sack of air is protected."
"Johanna enough." Finnick grumbles. "It's been a long day, and it can't guarantee if I'll be slaughtered in front of all of Panem by President Snow to-" She cuts him off. I thought Effie and Haymitch were bad, but these people had no respect for anyone and would talk over each other all day if they could.
"Either way you're gonna be slaughtered in front of all of Panem. What difference does it make if he does it or if I do it? In my opinion I would rather take the plunge now, get it all over with. I'm tired of the stupid games." Her words are harsh, and I expect a fight to start. Finnick says nothing and they grin at each other. Almost as if they're excited to go back in the arena. But I know that's not true because her fingers are tapping on her leg as one does when they're scared. "Maybe they'll take my suggestion and make it so much more fun by adding in all the other victors of Panem. The more the merrier! Wouldn't it be fun to have Haymitch and An-"
"Shut up!" Finnick roars. "This may be your way of coping, but I can't deal with it." Behind them the television is still blaring. The crowds still line the seat and the chanting continues to ring through the speaker. Caesar comes onto the stage and the darkness disappears. The rerun must have finished.
"Well that must have been the most exciting interview session I've had in a long time!" He laughs and the Capitol people begin to quiet down. "I managed to get you all a little treat. Well maybe I'm a bit selfish and got it for myself, but you all get to see it too." Another chuckle comes out of his mouth and everyone in the room rolls their eyes. It's not vey surprising what he says next, "A sit-down interview with our star-crossed lovers because we all want to know more. Am I right?" A boom of cheers erupts from the audience. It seems as if they forgot their little protest just minutes before. I can't take it anymore. There's just so much, and the last thing I want to do is put on a smile and tell the whole world some fake pregnancy story. I've disappointed everyone already. Tears welt up in the corners of my eyes, and this time I let them stream down the sides of my cheeks. I'm tired of hiding and being someone who I'm not. But today was not the day to be myself. Today was the day where I'm Katniss Mellark, the girl so in love with Peeta she would die for him. He deserved that kind of girl, but that would never be me, nor would it ever be real. Everyone around me watches as the girl on fire, fearless and strong has tears running down her face. Somehow all the makeup doesn't trail off with it, so when he tears land on my lap, they land clear. Peeta gets up from his seat and takes the one next to me. He has every right to hate me. I've done so many awful things to him, and all he gives back to me is kindness. I've broken his heart more times than I can count, yet he doesn't seem to care. He's deep down too nice of a person to see me in pain. His arms wrap around me leaning my face against his chest. He's warm and I hear his heart beat fast. He's just as scared, or even more scared than I am.
Haymitch bursts into the room, "Did you just hear?"
Peeta nods at him "Yeah I think everyone in Panem heard. Does Caesar have an inside voice or is it all yelling?" He tries to keep the conversation light-hearted, but it was beginning to get hard for him to do so. His laughter is stifled and his responses less charismatic.
"Everyone in Panem heard all right. Quite the show you put on back there. The whole world was watching, Caesar must be ecstatic. I've known the man for the last twenty-five years. He's been interviewing these Games for as long as I can remember. There are four things I know about him. He is loud as a bullhorn. The man has never shut his trap his entire life. He has one hell of a plastic surgeon. He knows what he's doing so just going along with it. He will help you. Any situation you are in he will spin it positive and make it look good for you. And finally, he is an awful drinking buddy. He's out like a light in half a cup."
"Haymitch, that's five not four." Peeta says.
Haymitch takes his flask out of his pocket and thrusts it at Peeta. "I know how to count Goddammit! Both of you should just drink up and get ready. I'm sending you both out there in fifteen minutes." Haymitch storms off muttering to himself about how he shouldn't have wasted his time with Peeta and I. He didn't mean it, but it still was true.
Before we go back onstage Haymitch stops to speak to us and take his flask back. Much to his dismay, its empty. He loosens Peeta's tie "Effie has you looking like there's a noose around your neck." He looks me over quickly and nods. Earlier, my prep team and Effie came with a new dress and to fix my makeup. It was a black bell shaped, knee length dress with capped sleeved. They brought me a pair of black strappy heels to match. Peeta's in an all black suit. We look like we're in mourning in my opinion, but according to Effie we look sleek and 'just darling'. I don't know how that's supposed to win over the Capitol, but whatever she think will work I'll do. Her and Haymitch seem to have a slight idea of what they're doing. He puts his hands on our shoulders and begins his little speech like he does before every interview. "All the lovey dovey stuff you both have been doing for the past year has been great. Now, I just need you to do that, but three times bigger. I want the whole shebang. Lots of crying, declarations of love, make them all see why they shouldn't let you go tomorrow."
"Any last advice?" I ask hoping for something that will remind me why I should do this and not just give myself up to the Capitol.
"Stay alive." He smirks sending us off to Caesar. Three white rounded chairs are now in the center of the stage. Applause and deafening cheers are the only here for at least five minutes. Caesar kisses me on the cheek and shakes Peeta's hand. Hopefully none of his makeup rubbed off on me. I don't want the last image of me to be looking like some sort of bleached out blueberry. We sit in the chairs as a hush falls over the room.
Peeta crosses his right leg over his left and our knees brush. I shiver a bit from the chill in the room and the contact. He quickly notices and takes off his suit jacket, "Here. You're cold." He places the jacket over my shoulders and a chorus of 'Awwwws' are heard in the audience.
Behind the curtains I hear Haymitch whoop "Yes!" and Effie slapping him to be quiet.
In response to the jacket I kiss Peeta on the cheek; letting my lips linger for a bit longer than necessary. I keep thinking of Prim and my mother and how they'll lose the house as soon as I die. Every second longer that my lips are on him is another second they get heat and electricity. "Thank you." I tell him.
He winks at me "Anytime."
Caesar laughs jovially. "Look at you two. As in love as ever."
"We're just making the best of what we have left. We want our last memories of each other to be happy ones. " My hand grazed his cheek. It was surprising that I was the one who was talking first. I was getting better at this faking thing. The longer I was around people from the Capitol, the more I knew about their culture. Terms of endearment and chivalrous acts of love were obsessed about by them. Probably because none of them had any manners and paid people to open doors and pull out chairs for them.
Caesar nods somberly, "I see. So how is it going to work in the Games? Any specific plans that you can tell us?" People begin to boo Caesar, but he doesn't take back the question. He knows just as well as I do that the people want to know everything.
Peeta begins quickly "I want to keep her alive for as long as I can. Hopefully we make it to the last two, and then we can have a proper goodbye. There will be no me and her taking the plunge together this year. I'm willing to kill myself on the spot just so she- they can both survive." The they part was a nice addition. Peeta is going to push this as far as he can go.
"Peeta…" I shake my head slowly. "We didn't agree on that. I can't let you do that for me."
He grabs my hands and kisses them. He swivels his chair to face me now, make the audience feel like they're watching an actual intimate conversation of ours. "We're never going to agree on this. You have to let me to this. For you and the baby." The audience was captivated by the scene going on, victors had never talked like this especially in front of a camera and a crowd.
What Peeta and I were doing was working, but I needed something bigger to win everyone over. I think of Prim and the reaping and if I hadn't been there to stop it. I picture her as Rue, Marvel's spear sticking out of her chest. When tears begin to fall down my cheeks I know that I'm doing the right thing. "I can't do this without you. I won't do this without you. I need you Peeta. I need you more than anyone has ever needed another person before. I can't watch you die." I realize what Haymitch and Effie set up. The crying, the all black attire, we're supposed to be mourning each other. A swan song for an extremely talented act. The pre-funeral for two individuals who will never get funerals.
Peeta wipes the tears from my flushed cheeks, "Just remember that I love you. Always have. Always will." I hear people in the crowd sobbing. If they knew that none of this was real, the tears would turn to screams.
I love you too. I mouth back to him. I'm too afraid that I wouldn't be able to say it out loud or I would start laughing.
Caesar wipes some tears from his own eyes "While this is all very touching. I'm afraid if you continue this conversation we'll all be wrecks by the end. We can't have that, my hair looks too good today. Let's talk about your unborn child. How many weeks are you?"
"Three" I say. It seemed like a number small enough for me not to have a bump.
"When did you find out?" Caesar leans his chin on his hand. I never knew if he was aware of all the falseness. He looked around at everybody as if he knew all of their darkest secrets, but would never reveal anything.
I think for a second. I had to make it believable, but heartbreaking at the same time. "The morning before President Snow announced the Quarter Quell." The pout on Caesar's face shows that I picked the right day.
"We got that one day. It was more than enough." I nod in agreement. "The sun was shining. She was smiling brighter than I've never seen her before. Not a smidgen of trouble on her face. I wouldn't trade it for anything."
"Any names in mind? Maybe Caesar?" He lifts one of his eyebrows at the crowd and they all hoot in approval.
Peeta jokingly nods at me. "I can see it now. Little Caesar Mellark running to school in her pigtails." Caesar bursts out in laughter and I swear I'm going deaf.
"We have no names yet; sorry." I shrug to the crowd and they give me disappointed whining noises. It's the first truth I've said in a while. I could have thought of some random name, but I didn't have the energy to pick a reason. They always wanted a reason back in the Capitol. I look back at Peeta "We should probably discuss names after we finish this interview."
Caesar nods at us. "A nice printed copy of the final list would be nice." Chuckles echo from the stadium. "Katniss, do you plan on raising the baby back in District Twelve or here in the Capitol?" The interview sounds like I've already won. But I know why Caesar's doing what he's doing. He can't handle another outburst like the one before, so he must only speak in positive hypotheticals. As if there was some sort of chance that a pregnant teenager could make it out alive.
I take Peeta's hand. "District Twelve is my home. It's where I grew up and where Peeta grew up. It has so much of our personal history in bedded into it. While the Capitol is the place where Peeta and I fell in love, District Twelve is where we wanted to settle down together. I want our baby to know its father as much as it can if he's not next to me and I think District Twelve is the right place to be for that." Peeta slams his lips onto mine for a final embellishment of the act. I want to push
"That is so touching. We all should want a love like yours." Fake and doomed for death. How romantic! "I have one final question for you two. Are you excited?" Excited for what? I wanted to ask Caesar that so badly. Excited to die? If that's the question then the answer was most definitely yes. I didn't know how much more of this I could take.
I nod in response, waiting until I could trust myself to not shoot back a string of insults. I plaster a huge grin on my face "Extremely. Peeta and I wanted kids since we got home from last years' games. He would make the best father. It just never was the right time to start a family, I guess it never is." Everyone around me seems to guy it. I don't know how anyone would want kids after they've seen a Hunger Games, nevertheless been in one. Kids die in the districts, everybody knew that.
AN: Hey guys. I hope you guys like the new rewritten version of this chapter. I wasn't really proud of the writing originally, and this one is much better in setting up the plot in my opinion.
If you want to see Katniss' dress for the second interview you can find it at on google. I would put down the link, but it keeps deleting it. But if you search up "cap sleeves" on google and go to images it should be the seventh picture there. It's a black dress and it is so pretty! I really want it, but I have nowhere to wear it to. Maybe in the future though.
For Peeta's suit you can find it also on google (fan fiction should really start letting you post links) just search "all black suits" on google and look on images and it should be the first one there. Josh would look really good in it, but Josh looks good in everything tbh