Disclaimer: I am not Suzanne Collins. All rights go to her!

A/N: BAHH! So, I was going through a baby name book to look for names for the novel I'm sort of writing, and I see this name: 'Rosalba,' meaning, white rose. Me being the crazy Hunger Games fan that I am immediately thought of none other than President Snow. Then this story quickly unfolded in my head.

So this is for all you guys out there who like crazy pairings. And as a side note; earlier I wrote a fanfic about Katniss and Peeta's children, a continuation of the epilogue (called Happiness, read it if you wish) and these are the names I used for their children, so I'm just going to continue using them. Please R&R, hope you enjoy! :D

"I don't know about this, Peeta," mom said, pulling her hair into a braid looking out the train window. "Don't you think it's a little too early to be taking our children to the Capitol?"

"Katniss. They're teenagers. Rue is going to be 17 in a month. I think they're going to be fine."

Mom has been on edge for the last few days. We were going to the Capitol. Dad had always wanted to take us there, but Mom would never allow it. I guess until now.

We were staying there for only a weekend. Mom and Dad had this surviving Victor banquet reunion that they had to go to. All the living and breathing Victors were required to go, which only meant Haymitch, Enobaria, Johanna Mason, Annie Cresta, my parents; Peeta Mellark and Katniss Everdeen.

Usually, Rue and I would be forced to stay with Haymitch when our parents went on reunion tours, but since he was required to attend as well, we had nowhere else to go.

I think Dad and Rue were the most excited to go. Every since we decided to go on the trip, they've been frantically planning and preparing; which hotel to stay at, the best restaurants, etc. Mom just quietly agreed. I could tell she wasn't to thrilled about going to the Capitol again. Dad told me that's where Aunt Prim died, and being there just reminded her too much of her. We never talked about the Capitol, much less the Games a lot at home. Mom didn't bring it up much, in fear of it provoking one of Dad's episodes. I didn't even know the reason for those, either. My knowledge of the Capitol and the Games was all that I learned in school. The tributes. Mom and Dad were two star-crossed lovers, and tried everything they could to keep each other alive in the Games. The ruthless, evil President Snow, and the even more menacing President Coin. That was about it.

The train suddenly rushes to a screeching halt, snapping me back into reality. "Sorry about that, folks!" a muddled voice breathes into the outdated intercom, "We have arrived at the Capitol!"

"Rue, Finn, stick together," Mom orders, "remember, the Capitol is no District 12."

As we stepped off the train, Rue's eyes nearly popped out of her head. I saw them grow even larger as she took in the Capitol in it's fullness. Tall buildings towered the sky, shooting passed the clouds it seemed like. Cars of every size and color crowded the streets, honking impatiently. We had very few cars in 12, and the ones we did have were old and rusty looking. Haymitch once told me we'd buy one and fix it up, but he made that deal with me when he was drunk, and I doubt he remembers it now. Mom was right, the Capitol was no District 12.

"Finn! Finn, look at this!" Rue shouts, pointing up to the sky. Large, white hovercrafts fly about in the open air, some leaving messages in the sky. 'Welcome to the Capitol.' "I want to ride in one of those!"

"So, what do you think?" Dad asks, putting his hand on my shoulder.

"I… I think I prefer the Seam."

Dad laughs. "Your just like your mother, Finn. She hates it here, too."

"I didn't say I hated it. It's just a little overwhelming."

"Finn! Look, those are flying cars! And I just saw this woman, and she was dyed pale white with red stripes. And another woman had a tail! A tail! You have to see her!"

I swear, she's 16 months older than me, and I felt like the older one. Her being in the Capitol was like a child at the worlds largest toy store.

Well, I guess the Capitol would be her equivalent to a toy store.

Before I know it, Rue grabs my arm and starts running down the street. I hear dad faintly laughing as we descend down the street. "Rue! Knock it off. Let go of me!"

She doesn't. We continue down the street. Now I see what she's talking about. There are crazy looking people here. People dyed bright colors, tattoos, jewels. They look insane. I made a mental note to make Rue promise me she wasn't going to end up like one of them.

Rue stops running. Our destination is a small crowd, huddled around something I can't see. I awkwardly slam into the person in front of me. He turns around and gives me a rude stare, but nothing more. I shoot a rude glare of my own over at Rue. She shrugs and pushes her way through the crowd.

Of course I have to follow her. We make our way to the very front to see what's going on. A weird smell fills my nose. Rue squeals in delight as well as a lot of other people in the crowd.

There's a man in the middle with bright green hair dressed in a white shirt with paint smeared all over it. He has several multi-colored tattoos running up his arms and his neck. Next to him sits about twenty different aerosol cans in a crate, spray paint. The man works quickly, picking up a color, spraying the canvas in front of him, putting that color down and picking up another one. He moves so swiftly, his hands blur. Every once in a while, he'll spin the canvas, which rests on a metal rotating platform, to color a different angle. At first the colors seem to blur together, just making a dark green blend. But then he adds new colors, tans, browns. Hands. Or more specifically, a hand. He carefully traces the outline of the hand with black, making it identifiable. People awe in his art. I've seen my dad paint lots of times, but his tools are normal paintbrushes and paints. For this guy to create such vivid paintings out of spray paint… it was impressive.

The guy holds up one finger, to say he's not finished. He slowly takes a red canister of spray paint out of his collection, and draws small, red dots in the palm of the painted hand. He adds a few other colors to make them appear more realistic, but I know what they are even before he holds up the final product.

Rue gasps.

"Nightlock," we both say in unison. Rue shoots me a questionable look.

She grabs my wrists and abruptly yanks me out of the crowd. "Come on, Finn. Mom and Dad should be looking for us." Her eyes are uneasy.

Rue's pushing through the crowd so fast, I accidentally bump into several people. "Hey! Watch it!" a voice shouts. I shake my wrist free from Rue's grasp.

"I'll catch up with you in a minute, Rue." I tell her, not holding back my irritation. She nods quickly and heads back in the direction of our parents.

I spin around to apologize to the person I ran into. I find myself face to face with a girl, about my age, with long, light blond hair and light blue eyes, like the sky.

"I-I'm sorry," I mutter dumbly, "It's my sister's first time to the Capitol. She's a little… overwhelmed. I didn't mean to run into you. "

"Well, she looked like she's just seen a ghost," the girl says back, tucking a strand of her light hair behind her ear. It is long. It almost reaches her waist. The sun gleams off the crown of her hair, making her hair appear to be even lighter, while the wind gently stirs it, reminding me of the open flame of a candle. She looks to… normal to be living in the Capitol. With the absence of any tattoos or dyed skin and hair, she looks like she could be from any District.

"Well with her, I really don't know."

The girl smiles. "My name is Rosalba. I'm… from here."

I extend my hand out to shake hers. "Finn."

"Nice to meet you, Finn," she says, returning the handshake. "You did say you weren't from around here, didn't you? Where do you come from?" Her eyes widen with curiosity from behind her long lashes.

"District 12." I say quietly, suddenly feeling a little self-conscious. What would she think of me being from 12? It's not exactly the most wealthy District, and is she's living in the Capitol, she's bound to come from a family with money. Not to say my family's broke; my parents are one of the most well-known people in all of Panem. They're legendary. Would I tell her who my parents are? Would that intimidate her, like it does to plenty of other people I meet? Or would she think I was just some normal boy from the Seam?

"12," she repeats. Something registers across her face, but I can't place what it is.

"Yeah. The one and only. My family and I come from the Seam. My parents have lived there all their lives."

"Your sister," Rosalba murmurs questionably, "looks oddly familiar." She looks at me with intense eyes. I feel my pulse quicken slightly. "Do you- do you happen to be an Everdeen?"

"Mellark, actually. My mom took my dad's last name after they married."

"Peeta Mellark is your father?" she asks with wide eyes.

"Yes," I say slowly.

"And Katniss Everdeen is your mother?"

I nod.

"Oh, forbidden Games!-No wonder why she looked so familiar. She looks almost exactly like your mother. And now that you mention it, you look a lot like your father."

I grin, "I'll take that as a compliment."

She smiles back, and my pulse quickens again. "As it was intended to be."

I run my hands through my hair, hoping my face isn't red like it feels. "So, how long have you lived in the Capitol?"

"Born and raised. I've never left the Capitol."

That catches my attention. "Really? This is my second time out of District 12. I've been to District 11 once, but that's it. And that trip was only for a day."

"Oh," she says, surprised, "I figured that because of your parents, you would have traveled a lot."

"I wish," I find myself saying, "my parents- I mean, my mother is a little overprotective."

"Tell me about it. My parents don't think it's… safe for me to leave the Capitol. They said there's too many threats out there. The Games are over, the past is the past. I don't see what the big deal is."

I want to ask her what do the Games have to do with anything, but something stops me. Rosalba bites her lips and looks down at the ground. Guilty. She looks guilty, somehow. But why?

"You okay?"

She shakes her head quickly and attempts to smile back at me. It's not genuine; it doesn't reach her eyes. "Yeah, I'm fine."

That's when it clicks. Her eyes. Her light blue eyes, oddly shaped, in a way I can't explain. But her eyes reflect happiness, contentment. No bitterness or hostility whatsoever, like the person who also shares or yet, shared these eyes.

"Finn, my great grandfather," she swallows, hard. Tears prickle behind her eyes, "my great grandfather was President Snow."

A/N: Dun dun dunnnn! This is the longest fanfic chapter I've ever written, I'm proud of myself! :D Also, any ConCrit/reviews would be more than welcomed. Thanks for reading!