A/N: I own nothing, all characters and general plot belong to Suzanne Collins

Summary: This story takes place during the 70th Hunger Games and follows Finnick Odair as he mentors his new tribute, Annie Cresta.

The first time I saw Annie Cresta was during the Reaping Ceremony for the 70th Hunger Games. This might seem strange being that I grew up in District 4, but she was 3 years younger than me. When I won the 65th games, I was only 14. While maybe some of the other victors from the lower districts stayed in their home districts and lived in their corresponding victors' village, that wasn't the case for me. It was made clear pretty quickly that I wouldn't spend much time at home. I had responsibilities to see to in the Capitol, people to meet, beds to stay in, and I rarely was ever home in District 4. Whenever I did get a chance to rest, I was dragged back out by my entourage and "care takers" within a matter of days. But more on that later.

The point is, I was 3 years old than her when I was in school, which was pretty much a decade of difference when you're that age. I was 19 the year of the 65th Hunger Games. I had actually been able to stay the night in my own house, which was huge and easily housed my little sister, Sasha, and my mother. I was up all night because the sheets had too much starch, making them feel rough against my skin, and the pillows reeked of lavender. Not that you could tell by the next morning. I still had a devoted prep-team, though I had graduated from the games mandated prep-team to my own gaggles of hairstylists and clothing designers. I woke up with bags under my eyes and a severe case of bed head, but stepped out into the District 4 City Center looking like I just stepped out of photo shoot on the beach. They even put a light layer of oil over my skin to give it that sun kissed shine. I was standing off to the side next to Mags while The District 4 chaperone, a guy by the name of Lionel who stood at about 5'7", and the top 7 inches were occupied by his ridiculous mass of bright gold hair bouffant I had ever seen in my life. He was always rubbing his hands together and had a smile as big as a horse. Lionel looked more like a cartoon caricature than an actual person. I was lucky that I had narrowly escaped being turned into something like him when I became victor. Mags had been my mentor (seeing as she and I are currently the only surviving mentors from District 4) and fought tooth and nail to keep my "alterations" to a minimum. Their argument was the more natural I looked, the more exotic I would be to the people of The Capitol. Odd how it works backwards like that. In the end, the biggest alterations I received was a dental make over to get rid of the gap next to my left incisor and make the rest of my teeth even and pearly white. Gotta keep the smile perfect. Second in importance only to my physique.

I hadn't been paying that close attention, to be honest. I was busy looking around, tossing a covert wink at the Mayor's wife, inclining my head to the cheers from the crowd and grinning at the cameras whenever she focused in on my face. Most of these public appearances were a choreographed display of waving, standing just so, tilting my head a certain way and rearranging my features in a way that exuded confidence and nonchalance. Everything I did was carefully planned out and watched. Finnick Odair was a product and needed to be advertised just so. Lionel gave his little speech, dug a hand into the large glass bowl, made a show of wiggling his fingers in the fluttering slips of paper before pulling out the girl tribute from District 4 for the 70th Hunger Games.

"Annie Crrresta!" Lionel purred. He always made a rolling noise with his r's.

In a traditionally Career district such as District 4, there was the usual murmur of disappointed girls mixed in with cheers of the people gathered in the square. I clapped slowly, a lazy grin on my face as I waited for the first tribute to come to the stage. I had to squint against the sun to see the crowd of girls part and make way for her. I didn't get a good look at Annie until she came to a stop by Lionel, and even then it was just her back. Mags shuffled along the platform and stood next to her. From the back, she didn't look too impressive. She wasn't very tall. While most of the children and teenagers standing in the square were dressed in their finest clothes – sundresses for girls and buttoned shirts with khaki cargo shorts for the boys – Annie was in a pair of faded green shorts and a dark blue tank top that gathered around her rib cage before billowing out. The breeze drafting from the beach caught the hem of it and tugged up, revealing the tanned curve of her hip. I shifted my eyes back to the crowd.

I wasn't impressed.

In the front row of disappointed girls alone I could picked out at least 5 who were taller than Annie, had stronger shoulders and much more defined legs than the thin little things she had. Her black hair pooled in loose curls down the middle of her back. At least her shoulders were steady and she had her chin tilted proudly. Probably a proud tribute, yes, but she didn't exactly look born and bred for the games. I didn't have very high expectations for this one. Hopefully the boy tribute, the one I would be mentoring, would be a better candidate. I stepped forward, taking my place on the other side of the platform, Lionel and his bowls of white paper between me and Mags with her new tribute. Lionel started making a shower of digging into the names of District 4 boys.

"Rrrheese Halyard!"

Over Lionel's magnified voice, something distracted me from looking for the boy that I would be in charge of keeping alive. Over the cheers and hollering, I caught a sharp intake of breath. I glanced to my right and saw Annie's face for the first time. She was staring at Lionel. At first, the only thing I saw was her eyes. They were so large and such a pale shade of green that it took me a moment to realize her mouth was opened in a small o and her dark eyebrows were pulled together. It only lasted for a moment before she seemed to realize where she was because Annie's head snapped back to face the crowds again. Had that been a look of surprise? I clapped idly, curious about this girl's reaction. Her chin was tilted up again, but her brow was furrowed. I followed her stare to the boy that was now coming up the steps. No, not surprise. Not even shock. The looked etched into Annie Cresta's face, try as she might to conceal it, was dread.

I shifted my attention to Rheese Halyard. He was a few inches shorter than me, but what he lacked in advantageous height, he made up in obscene amounts of muscle. His hair was cropped short, just a shadow of dark hair. The boy's skin looked like he had a lingering sunburn, with dark freckles blotched across his nose and cheeks. His eyes were brown, but not wide in terror like you say in the lower districts. They were sharp and focused. Now this was a proper District 4 tribute. I stepped forward, flashing a smug grin to the cameras and clapping the boy on the back of the shoulder. It felt like slapping the side of a horse. This was someone I could work with. He wasn't the best looking kid – especially not with that pug nose of his – but the District 4 team would be able to clean him up well enough. They didn't need to go with my forte, anyways. While I relied equally on my skill and attractive appeal in the arena, I was confident I could turn this kid into a killing machine, if he wasn't already, and if he had a fair amount of brains. He didn't say anything or have much of a reaction to being on stage at all. His expression was just slightly pinched; he could've been focusing, trying to look tough or just squinting in the sunlight.

But I was still bothered by the girl's reaction. While Lionel gave his closing speech, I stole another sidelong glance at her. She hadn't moved since Rheese Halyard's name was called, to the point that it was obvious she was trying to avoid looking him. Or us. Or all of us, really. Her large eyes were craned toward the sky. She wasn't blinking. And there was the slightest tremor to her chin. I should've been focused on my own tribute. Scoping him out, seizing him up, already formulating a game plan even though were we just starting to descend the platform and enter the justice building so the two tributes could say their goodbyes to their loved ones. The girl had seemed confident enough, or at the very least calm, when her name had first been called. So why had she reacted like that when her counterpart had been named? Did she know him? Was she scared to be put up against someone from her own district that was so obviously stronger than she was? Or did she know him? Maybe the two were friends?

Annie entered the building first, followed closely by Mags, Rheese and then myself. I turned around in the doorway of the justice building, offering the crowd a wave and they responded with loud enthusiasm. I stole one last conspiratorial grin to the Mayor's wife as he turned to speak to Lionel. She pressed her fingers to her brightly painted lips and a caught a glimpse of gold around her wrist – a token of my affection I had left with her last night – before the double doors shut with a hollow thud before me.