A/N: Happy Valentine's Day everyone! I don't know if this will actually go up on Valentine's Day, but if it does, I hope you're having a good day - feel the love!

Anyways, I'm departing a bit from my usual writing. I haven't written a story about the less involved characters from The Hunger Games, but I have a soft spot for Finnick Odair. I hope you enjoy this. Please follow/favorite/review if you do.

Have a good day of love everyone! ~B

Chapter 1: The Reaping

Finnick Odair stood at his bedroom window, which looked over the ocean sidling along the long, long coast of District Four. Even at fourteen, he knew it was odd to be so full of thoughts so young. How was the ocean still so full of virility on a day like Reaping day? The muggy air, the jostling of the crowd, everything weighed the young, blonde boy down. He continued to watch the sea for a few minutes, trying to lose his worries in the tireless thrusting of the waves into the lonely and forgotten shore. He heard his name being called from the sitting room, but chose to ignore it, instead staring into the surf. He saw a young, redheaded girl running along the coast, laughing and bouncing about gleefully.

Turning slowly away, he shook his head to cast away any wary thoughts of the day. It was reaping day, and he was to have his name in the glass bowl 21 times. He would never let his friends at school or the beautiful people in the Capitol know his family was starving. His mother constantly ill and his father working on a fishing boat eight months out of the year, someone had to keep their family afloat. So Finnick bought tesserae, five of them. He heard his father call him again, and he slipped on a well worn shirt and a pair of simple sandles, feeling the pressure of the day weigh in on him.

"There you are Finnick, I've been calling you for ten minutes!" says his father impatiently. Dillon Odair wasn't a kind man, but he wasn't a brutal one either. Strong and weathered from years on a fishing boat, he turned to his son, a hard look in his bright green eyes; eyes that matched Finnick's exactly. "Are you excited for the Reaping today?" Finnick shrugged his shoulders apathetically, not knowing quite what to say to his father. The Reaping intimidated Finnick, that was a fact; but excitement didn't course through his veins as it did all the other boys and girls his age. He was terrified. Twenty one times his name was written in careful script on small, rectangular pieces of paper. He was seven times as likely to be drawn than any of the kids his age. And so what if he was drawn? He would die, and he'd get sent home in a small wooden box, and his parents would have one less mouth to feed. Of course, then his brothers would need to get tesserae, and what if one of them was reaped? He shrugged the thought off, looking still at his father.

"I suppose." he answered a little too late. "I have my name in there a lot of times, dad."

"That's true son, and if you get reaped, your mother and I will be very proud. We know you'll win! You've been working on trident skills at school, yes?" Finnick nodded in response to his father's question. Of course he had, he didn't really have a choice. District Four trained their youth from a very young age, no questions asked. He'd gotten very good at handling a trident as well. There was a certain finesse to the object, a power he felt while grasping the weapon in his long fingered hands. Finnick stood to his full height, almost as tall as his father was. He'd grown fast and high over the last few years, lengthening out to be lanky and strong, just like my father was before me.

My father patted me on the shoulder, smiling widely through crooked teeth. His mother, wrapped in a long shawl, shuffled into the room, eyes sunken and lips chapped. "Are you ready?" she asks Finnick hoarsely, a small smile collecting on her thin lips. She raised a hand to him, brushing it down his face. He nodded, happily looking at his mother. Today was one of her good days, he noticed as she coughed pitifully into her hands. Finnick ran to his room to collect a jacket, and then next door to pull his brothers up out of bed and get the twins dressed. The five year olds yawned and grimaced at the light, afflicted with the same sickly illness as his mother. He picked up both boys, carrying them gently into the livingroom where the family stood next to the tv to watch the usual announcement from the Capitol that aired before the annual Reaping. Finnick tuned out, finding President Snow's face achingly disturbing in its snakelike features. He looked out the window again, eyes catching red hair dancing through the thick wind as the same young girl he'd seen earlier ran through the surf back towards her house. She was skinny, but not emaciated, and he'd seen her in school before, a jovial girl a year younger than him. Her name was… what was her name? It didn't matter. If today went as planned, he would come home to eat dinner, and tomorrow go for a swim in the warm water that flowed so close to his tiny beach house.

Living right on the beach was a birthright, house inherited from his grandmother, and her mother before her. He knew their family would never be able to afford living here if it hadn't been for them. They would live behind the fish market with the rest of the poor, practically homeless people, where the smell of rotting fish permeated the air so fully, he was sure it wafted off the insides of the houses themselves. Finnick shuddered at the idea, watching the water flow, practically hypnotized until he felt his brother Troy squirming in his arms, yerning towards their mother. He set him down gently with his twin, Neemo, both running to their mom, who placed one hand on their backs.

"Ready boys? Finnick might be reaped this year!" she said, gazing down at them with so much love it hurt him. They cheered, and everyone started towards the door, then out, down the road, and towards the city center.

Finnick arrived before the rest of his family, waiting patiently in line for check in. He spotted his friend Auria, a small, sensitive girl who stood in the group of fourteen year old girls, and waved as the Peacekeeper pricked his finger and ushered him along towards his own group of people. He spotted Mags, the only living female Victor, an older woman he spent most of the days he wasn't in school with, learning to make fishing lures and hearing her muddied stories about the first of the Hunger Games. She was old, older than a lot of the citizens of Four, and he appreciated her presence more than most. The male Victor sat aloofly to the side. Finnick didn't know his name, just that he was a mean old man who valued the lives of the Tributes very little, resulting in many losses for Four in recent years. Finnick stood tall, reaching his real high of 5'7", scratching his bare chin. The boys around him whispered nervously to each other, but Finnick refused to look weak. He had a plan, and if he was to be reaped, he would follow that plan to his death.

His plan was to be appealing.

It made him sick, sicker than a lot of other things, to know that his only option was to use the looks he'd gained from his father and the straight teeth and height he'd won from his mother to his advantage. His sea-green eyes searched the crowd, spotting that same mane of red hair standing in a group of 13's. He shrugged, watching as the people that gathered grew into a larger and larger group on the teleprompter, knowing his family would be there somewhere, his mother leaning heavily on his father, not strong enough to stand on her own.

The Capitol anthem played, signalling an end to the raucous noise of the thousands of people in the crowd. Being one of the smallest, but densest districts had its perks for the Capitol, but it's distractions for others - all the people in the district lived within six miles of the Justice building, making it hard to contain the noise that happened morning, noon, and night. Finnick watched as the Seal of the Capitol burned onto the teleprompter, his eyes unwavering from the screen even as the district escort Caligula Token sauntered onto the stage, thematically dressed as usual. His high voice caught in Finnick's ears, and he grimaced, as he did every year at the sound.

"Welcome, welcome, beautiful citizens of this beautiful district, to the 65th annual Hunger Games." he swayed slightly in the spot, arms held from his body, as if dancing. Finnick chuckled under his breath, watching as the others kids in his section had their eyes glued to Caligula as if he was a god. Finnick didn't understand the appeal; he looked like the rainbow trout that his uncle grew in the large pond near his house, silver suit shimmering against his too tanned skin, hair the color of an ocean on a dark, stormy day. Finnick knew in that moment that if he was to be reaped, he would absolutely play off the subtleties of his own appeal. Even at fourteen he knew that he looked older, almost twenty in his appearance. "Now, if we can all settle down, perhaps I can start drawing out this year's potential victors!"

Finnick's eye twitched.

"Ladies first!" he said, clapping his small hands. His hand flustered for a moment in the bowl, pulling out a small slip of paper. "Marena Fischer!" A stocky looking girl come jolting forward from a large group of 16's, pumping her arms and grinning at the camera. She shakes hands with everyone and allows Caligula to raise up one hand in supposed victory. "How are you feeling Marena?"

"Oh, wow, Caligula, I never thought I'd get this opportunity. I thought I was gonna have to volunteer, but here I am!" Her eyes were empty, though her face showed her bravery. "Let's go Four! This year, onto victory!" She whooped loudly into the microphone, raising the volume level of the crowd even further.

"Alright, alright!" said Caligula, laughing as people screamed her name. "Onto the boys? Who's ready!?" he reached over to the bowl of boys names as the crowd went crazy. Finnick stayed quiet and stiff, heart beating so hard he was afraid it would pump straight out of his chest. He took a few calming breaths, closing his eyes. The moments between Caligula pulling the name out of the bowl and hearing him say it were excruciating. "Alright…" his eyes popped open as Caligula's well manicured fingers popped the tape off the piece of paper. "Let's see… Finnick Odair!"

The world went quiet.

Finnick couldn't feel his fingers, but people pushed him towards the exit of his age collection.

He was shaking, he could tell that much.

He needed to pull himself together before he didn't have a chance to change his image.

Finnick Odair smiled, white teeth shining bright, and lifted a well muscled arm into the air, waving at people he called friends, and to the camera, which projected his image everywhere; he waved to the Capitol, and the Capitol fell in love.

A/N: Okay, let me know what you think of this story. It's definitely a work in progress. 3 have a wonderful love day.