District Four's memorial hall took the developers a year to design and construct. A technological masterpiece they say. It is to be the base for the other memorial halls to mold into as each hall is built in the rest of the Districts. Today is the opening day. In one hour government officials will be shaking hands and photographed in embraces as they tour the facility built partially underwater. Not only will the guests be blown away by the realistic images from so long ago, they will have a scenic view of blue water and ocean life. The world was going to remember the Hunger Games and the Rebellion. Every image will be seared into each visitor's mind so those horrible days will never have to be a possibility again.
In one hour that is. The architects were thoughtful enough to the family of the main subject of the hall to offer them a private viewing. Finn Odair would never dream of allowing his mother to relive such an atrocity. He nearly hung up the phone when they first called. But his foresight took over. He needed to see exactly how they portrayed his father and mother. And if any detail was out of order he would demand they fix it. His family has had to deal with enough.
He wasn't going alone though. His mother was tucked safely away at their house near the beach. Far enough away from the water she wouldn't have to worry about the ocean swallowing her up, close enough she could still hear Finnick's voice calling to her from the waves crashing on the white sand.
This event meant Violet Mellark had two dates in one month with Finn. They agreed a long time ago that one date a month was enough to keep their long distance relationship afloat. So Violet would pack her things for a two day stay and for those two days they would be inseparable. In the camera's eye at least. She didn't enjoy being apart from her family twice in one month. Her father relied on her to help in the bakery as often as she could, which lately had been every day. Her mother worried every time she set foot on a train. And her brother, well, even at seventeen he hasn't gotten used to dealing with the nights on his own. But at this moment, Finn needed her more.
They were waiting patiently at a side door. Finn rejected the idea of approaching this monstrosity from the entranceway where reporters and cameras were poised. They already had their pictures of them at multiple meals and strolls on the shore from last week.
Without Violet's firm grip on Finn's arm he wouldn't have even been sure this wasn't a nightmare. He wanted to dress in something comfortable but Violet was the reasonable one for a change and told him he couldn't expect to get through this without one picture. So he pulled out a blue-gray suit and threw on a white silk shirt buttoned to the top underneath. Violet was as equally covered up in her high-collared charcoal black coat wrapping her up from her wrists to her to the top of her neck and dark pants. He wouldn't have her dress any other way.
Every time their eyes met she gave her boyfriend of four years a comforting look. Twenty-two years old and born with the weight of the world on his shoulders. She wasn't sure if he brushed his dark hair or not. The long loose wavy strands would just end up where they pleased anyway. Finn felt a little guilty for asking Violet to come to this. Not that he had to persuade her in anyway. In fact he didn't even get to finish his request before she told him she would be at his side every step of the way. Not only did she look like her mother at twenty years old with long dark, braided hair, stunning from head to toe, but she inherited her sense of morals as well. She would never let a friend down.
"I think we're ready for you." The director of the hall, Mr. Molior grinned widely as he announced this. It was going to be his proudest moment, introducing the wonders of the memorial hall to the son of Finnick and Annie Odair. And as an added bonus he finally got to meet the daughter of Katniss Everdeen and Peeta Mellark. He knew they were going to be speechless as soon as they set foot inside.
Violet thanked him as the tall, lanky man opened the door. He knew he had made an impression the moment she gasped and the memorial hall's host began his rehearsed greeting to the pair.
"Welcome to District Four's memorial hall. Here you can remember and gain a brand new perspective and understanding of the Rebellion where myself," the hologram winked at Violet, somehow discerning their genders from beyond the grave, "Finnick Odair, and countless other brave people fought for the end of the Hunger Games and the return of democracy."
He continued his speech as though they had never heard of the Rebellion, the Hunger Games or the selfless acts of the ones they loved the most. It took all of one second for Finn's mind to retreat to a safe place. Not one where he was face to face with a holographic version of his father dressed in a thin cream colored shirt and pants torn at the edges and a long green robe probably meant to represent seaweed veiled over his shoulders like he was a god rising from the sea.
It was too soon to turn back now Violet knew. The tour had barely begun. She would have to be the strong one for Finn. He may have had a good fifty, sixty pounds on her but it was her strength that had gotten him this far in life.
She tugged at his arm so hard he couldn't help but look at her. He always had a hard time reading her blue eyes. From childhood to today he didn't know if she was going to offer him a slice of cake or shove it up his nose. And now was no different. Her eyes glowed as if the man impersonating his father was actually entertaining. "Odair..."
He didn't trust the confident way she spoke his name.
"Chin up, smiles on, and in exactly thirty minutes... bottoms up." She had perfected Effie Trinkett's accent so much so he could picture Effie saying every word. Except the last two. That was all Violet. Not that she was a big drinker. But on occasion it helped dull the pain.
He nodded although with certainly less enthusiasm than Violet, turned back to the hologram making sure to avoid all eye contact and leaned closer to her for support with every footstep.
Violet decided to see the tour through a stranger's eyes. Or an alien's who had no knowledge of the destruction and oppression caused by humans in the last hundred years. Perhaps they would see Finnick as an ambassador into the past. Where wrongs were righted. Lives were lost but at the cost of saving thousands more. Children now grow up without fear or hunger. Finnick's presence was dazzling as she listened to monologue after monologue in room after room. She could have finished most of his sentences as all the details were ingrained into her head. Still, he drew her in like she imagined the real Finnick would have done.
Finn on the other hand was lost in his own world, dragging alongside Violet, staring more at his fish friends than this figure that was supposed to resemble the soul of a man. He didn't even realize they were at the last stop of the tour until Violet elbowed him to look at her again. "I think we've seen more than enough, Finn. Let's thank them and find something that would make Haymitch's hair fall out." He looked at her as though he were already drunk.
"Finn," she said more firmly, "I can't stomach seeing... that."
Ah, yes. Finnick Odair's time was up. He smiled weakly, "Wasn't it you that gave me a skinned squirrel as a present when I was nine? Yep, I'm pretty sure it was you. And I'm pretty sure it was you who placed it under my nose while I was sleeping so that I puked my guts out all over the pillow."
There was a time and place for Violet to teach Finn how to be a man. He was too queasy around dead animals as a kid. She thought a little shock therapy would help. He barely threw up the next time she made him hold the knife in his hand. He needed a father figure and she was the only one willing to force him to toughen up. But those days were long gone. Finn didn't need a father figure anymore and he didn't need to witness his father's death. It was a brilliant touch though. Each visitor who didn't already admire Finnick would be thoroughly bonded to him by the end of the tour. Then to witness his death... no one would forget that. No one in their right mind would walk away from this experience hating war more than ever. But Finn and her had set up camp there a long time ago.
"Don't make me leave without you, Finn. Because if you do I'm leaving this torture chamber with you," she said referring to her constricting jacket, "and for your information, I'm not exactly wearing appropriate attire underneath so all you'll be privy to is my bare back."
He didn't know if she was serious or not. Even before they were together, Violet would risk anything to protect him using whatever resources were close at hand. At any cost. Even her dignity. She once nearly shot an arrow through a boy's leg for telling Finn his father was a blow fish. She warned him once to shut up. The boy proceeded to insult his mother but the arrow whizzing by his pant leg managed to silence him. And being that it was on her twelfth birthday it was all caught on camera. She shrugged it off but Finn understood not to call her bluff on anything unless he was absolutely positive.
Violet was brash, confident, and always taking care of others. He was timid, cautious and would jump at the opportunity to be there for her when he could. Although those opportunities were few and far between. This was a moment where she was putting herself on the line for him yet again. Her ultimatum would be a win-win for her. He goes in, she walks out stark naked taking the spotlight with her. He walks out with her and she can sleep soundly.
Both could feel dozens of pairs of eyes on them now. A photographer, the director and a group of gawking employees they had collected on their tour. Each mind creating their own story of what Finn Odair and Violet Mellark were discussing at the doorway into his father's death.
A part of him wanted to keep going even though the rest of the tour was like a blur. Not that it was the only piece of his father's life that haunted him but maybe in a bizarre unpredicatble way it would give him some peace of mind about his father's death. Fortunately for Violet, an even bigger part of him wanted to get her home and out of that jacket.
"If we leave now... will you stay the night?" he asked quietly, ashamed that his request would really be to serve his selfish needs again.
She tried to hesitate, she had a ticket for the train this afternoon, but the answer always came out quicker than he could finish asking the question, "Of course."