Summary: Finnick O'Dair never gave much thought to his life. He was a mentor for the kids that very rarely made it out alive. So when the reaping day came for the 70th annual Hunger Games, he never thought twice about who he would get. They would die, he thought. But after losing her sister to the games, Annie Cresta will do all that she can to make it out alive. And for once, Finnick wants to help one of the tributes. Canon couples eventually. The chapters will switch POVs occasionally.
Disclaimer: I own nothing. Suzanne Collins owns the characters!
CHAPTER ONE
APOV
Four times.
Amongst a crowd of hundreds, I wait patiently to sign in. Next to me, a girl is holding hands with her little sister, her knuckles white from gripping so hard. I wince at the sight. Does she know? I wonder. Does she know what she's getting herself in for?
Unfortunately, she most probably does. Only twelve and forced to watch children from our district murder each other each year in the games. Shuddering, I step forward as another girl exits the line, her eyes blank with no emotion showing other than complete fear.
It's expected, so I know why.
"Next!" a croaky, seemingly old woman yells, and the brunette girl in front of me steps forward with her finger out. "Stop crying," the woman mutters as she pricks the girl's finger. A sob escapes the poor girl's throat, and she's led away to line up in her age range by a peacemaker. "Next!"
I step forward, my finger out. I'm not shaking as much as I was the previous few nights. Surprisingly, I'm not as scared as I probably should've been.
Four times, I remind myself.
"Next!" the woman shouts. I feel my eyebrows burrow together in confusion. The woman stares at me until I'm led away. Looking down at my finger, I notice a small drop of blood. It didn't hurt and I barely even noticed it happen.
We wait for what seems like forever until our escort – Lana – taps the microphone at the front of the stage. "Welcome!" she shouts through it and a painfully loud screech escapes the microphone, making everybody cover their ears. "Well," she starts, ignoring the noise.
We're made to watch a video of previous tributes and Lana makes a point of mentioning how good the other districts were. I turn my head a little so I can see mother in the crowd. Lifting my hand, I wave, a small smile on my face telling them don't worry.
"You!" a peacemaker shouts, not loud enough to interrupt Lana, but loud enough to get my attention. "Shh," he brings his fingers to his lips and I nod, turning away from the harsh threat. He's carrying a weapon of some sort and that scares me enough to stay silent for the next ten minutes.
"And now, to pick our female tribute!" Lana exclaims happily. I attempt to roll my eyes, but afraid of the peacemaker watching me, I stop myself, pretending to look at the sky.
"Come up to the stage, dear!" I hear Lana say. Looking down, I realise that I hadn't heard the name, but as everybody stares at me, I think I know who our female tribute is.
Oh, God, no, I think. I can't! I'm physically, and mentally, unable to do this. I'll die in there!
Then, as I'm led onto the stage, I realise that's the point. Staring out into the crowd, I miss Lana taking a hold of my hand and pulling out the male tribute's name. I miss the boy being led onto the stage, and I miss mother's shrieks from the crowd of parents at the back. I'm just aware that soon, in a few weeks, the whole of Panem is going to see me, a small, weak girl, die.
"Come on, dear," somebody says, leading me into a room at the back of the stage. I'm led down a hallway, and then placed in a room. I can't protest, since the peacemaker, or whoever led me here, slams the door and leaves me alone.
The next few minutes, I wait. There's a few apples on the table in a frosted glass bowl, but, still afraid of the armed peacemaker, I don't pick one up, managing to ignore my rumbling stomach.
The peacemaker, the same as before, opens the door, leading in a family. My family. As he leaves again, slamming the door behind him, I can't hear anything other than my mother's strangled cries.
"Annie," she says, pulling back and smoothing out the hair on my head. She's rushing, as we both know that we don't have long until I'm dragged away from her. "Stay safe in there."
I blink at her, begging my eyes not to realise the tears that sting my eyelids. If I hadn't felt anything before, I can definitely feel it now. District Four is my home, and this was my last year of reaping.
Four times! I think again as mother pulls me closer to her, stroking the back of my head as I fall against her chest. Four damn–
"It's time to go," somebody tells us blankly. Pulling away from me, mother flashes me a small, sad smile and whispers me good luck. She knows I'll need it, but she tells me that I can do it. As she's led out of the room, she tells me that she has faith in me.
Well, I need that.
I don't say anything to the peacemaker who's made his way into the room. I slump down on the couch, instead, letting my head fall into my hands. I need more time. More time to say goodbye.
I notice that I'm shaking – the room is freezing – as the door opens again. And, before I can look up, somebody drapes a jacket over my back and shoulders. I look up, expecting to see Lana.
"Come on," my mentor says blankly. Finnick O'Dair. I remember when he became the mentor five years ago. I don't know him personally, but I don't know if I really want to. He doesn't even seem to try. "We need to go," he tells me.
A peacemaker and Finnick lead me out towards a car which will take us to the train. Already inside, Mags – my favorite mentor from Four – sits with the male tribute. He's shivering, just as much as I was, and I ponder whether I should give him Finnick's jacket.
But then I realise he's just scared.
"I'm Cal," he tells me, reaching out his hand. I shake it and tell him my name. "I know," he says, pulling back his hand. "You were just up there, but you didn't hear my name. You were distant."
I laugh, causing both Finnick and Mags to snap their heads towards me, their eyebrows furrowing and their eyes wide. But, instead of singling me out, Cal grins back.
Who knows? It might be nice to have him around.
As the car comes to a halt, we're all led onto a grand train. We have a few compartments to ourselves, and a bed to sleep in that night until we reach the Capitol. Finnick, from beside Mags, nudges her when we reach the train and step instead.
"There's your boy," Finnick says, and as I see the side of his head, I notice that he's smirking. Mags shakes her head, apologising to the boy who Finnick has embarrassed. He seems to have a thing for Mags. I don't blame him; really, she looks great for seventy five.
"Finnick, enough," Mags turns to us, gesturing towards a couch in one compartment. Along with Cal, we stare at the things in awe. Mahogany tables and chairs, real silver and gold decorations, and a chandelier that falls just above the couch.
We do as she says and sit down. Finnick and Mags do, too, opposite us. I pull Finnick's jacket closer to me, but it's not needed anymore. The room is boiling, in a good way.
"How are you feeling?" Mags asks, not saying anything other than that. She knows that we know the drill. We know we prepare, and we know we die. Simple as that.
And considering I'm not a career, I know that they know that to.
"Good," I say when Cal doesn't answer. I honestly don't know how I'm feeling. Should I be scared? I don't feel it. I don't feel anything. "Great, in fact," I lean forward to smooth my finger across the table. "This is amazing."
Mags smiles at me sadly. "I know, dear. It is."
Finnick doesn't say anything as he reaches into his pocket and pulls out a packet of white cubes. I stare at him, confused, as he pops one into his mouth. "Anybody want a sugar cube?" he asks, flashing a cheerful grin. Cal reaches forward and takes one, placing it on the end of her tongue.
For the second time today, I laugh, but it's hollow and doesn't hold any emotion. I wonder why I'm laughing, but it must not be wrong since Mags smiles.
"Well," she pats her knees. "We best get you to off to bed. We'll arrive in the Capitol just after breakfast tomorrow and there we'll tell you more about what you'll see and what you'll be expected to do. The opening ceremony comes first. To get you ready for that, you'll meet your stylists."
I nod, not sure on what to do. "Anybody hungry?" she asks. I shake my head and glance over at Cal who says no, but he'd like another sugar cube.
We're led off to our temporary bedrooms and it doesn't take me long to fall asleep. I change first, pulling on a pair of brand new white pyjama bottoms, supplied to me by the Capitol, of course.
In the morning, we're woken by a few peacemakers who take us to a different room than yesterday. It's large, too large to be on a train, but surely enough, there are bright colors flashing past the windows in a hurry. Then, as if we're going under a tunnel, it turns to dark.
"Good morning," Mags says. Finnick isn't here yet, and she explains that he went to sleep late the previous night. I can't imagine why. Unless he's seeing one of the waitress' secretly, wooing her behind our backs, and that's why he's a terrible mentor. I wouldn't be surprised.
I pick up a piece of bread and break it in half. It's soft and warm on the inside, and it melts away in my mouth. "Amazing," I say, as that seems the only way to describe the Capitol.
"Good morning."
The sliding door to this compartment opens, and a head pops through. Finnick! And he's not dressed, not a lot anyway, as when he slides the door across fully, he's wearing his underwear. I'm scared I'll blush, so I turn away, picking up another piece of bread and smothering it with plum jam.
"Finnick," Mags rolls her eyes, but something about her demeanour tells me that it's common for him to act this way. He doesn't even bother to get changed. Instead, he walks into the room and sits down as if it's perfectly normal for him to be half-naked.
I look down, finishing the last half of the bread. It's too good to resist, and I lean forward to take another piece. Somebody else's hand is there already, taking the piece that I want. The hand has a gold ring around the little finger with a language that I can't read scrawled on it.
"Oops," Finnick laughs. He pulls back his hand, nodding at the bread. "It's yours. You like it."
My cheeks start flaming and I shake my head. "You can have it," I tell him and wipe my mouth with a cotton napkin. I stand up and smile at Mags. "Thank you for this, but I think I'm going to go get changed."
I leave without another word towards my mentors, nor to Cal who's digging in to something that resembles soup. I don't see much of Finnick, but before I leave towards my room, I notice him take the piece of bread back to his plate, grinning.
I chose a white dress to enter the Capitol. I was hoping for a pair of trousers, but according to the people who supplied me with my outfits, they didn't exist. There were dresses and heels, but I wore my usual boots with the dress. They didn't look too bad.
Not surprisingly, when I exited my cabin, Finnick was still in his underwear. I roll my eyes and join Cal, now dressed in a smart suit – minus the tie – at the window, staring out at the Capitol's bright colors.
They are people waving and Cal joins in, smiling brightly at the people who will cheer at anything – his death, mine. I sigh, bringing up my hand to wave. I don't get a chance, though, as somebody comes behind me and takes my hand back.
"Welcome to the Capitol, Cresta," Finnick says, and when I look at him, he's smirking. He drops my hand and I glare simply at him, but I don't start an argument as Mags joins us. We stand together, waving to the Capitol and smiling at them. Finnick smiles at somebody and they faint.
Welcome to the Capitol is written in bubble letters on a flyer above our heads. As the train door opens, Finnick trails over, smiling once at me before leaving.
I hear him shout, "Hello!" The crowd takes it in, screaming at his presence. Mags leads Cal out and I follow, staring at the floor as Cal waves again, laughing adoringly at the crowd.
I think of mother at home. Can she see this? Confidently, I lift my head, showing my teeth in a perfect smile at the Capitol's minions. There ridiculous wigs wobble as they wave back enthusiastically, and bright, gleaming teeth show as they smile at us, pulling back their lipstick stained lips.
"Good," Finnick says, and proceeds to give me some advice, which is odd for him. He's so self-adsorbed I'm surprised he noticed my try at gaining the Capitol's attention. "Make them like you," he orders me.
Then, as if he's used to this attention – probably is, knowing him – he walks over to a woman in the crowd. Kissing her full on the lips, she faints into her friend's arms. "Typical," I mutter and roll my eyes. I follow him out, waving closer at the people. They smile at me warmly, but their love belongs to, and always will do, Finnick.
But he smiles at me. "Nice," he says. "Keep that up and you'll be sure to get sponsors. They're ideal in the Games. You'll need them."
Mags, taken aback by Finnick's kind words towards me, nods to me anyway, confirming what Finnick told me. I nod back, pulling down my hand as we're led into a car that will take us to a large building, with rooms bigger than the whole train – the place we'll be sleeping, eating, training, and the place that will transform us from tributes to fighters.
I turn to look out the window as the car speeds towards the main building. As I smile at a young child in the crowd, she glares at me. And then, without even trying, Finnick seems to notice and smiles at the girl himself. The girl's mother typically faints, but the young child waves, grinning back.
"Thanks," I mumble sarcastically. Finnick spends a few more moments waving at the girl, and then turns back to me.
"Don't worry, Cresta," he says, smirking. "You'll get your turn soon."
Slumping back in my chair, I frown. He knows just as well as I do that the Capitol only have one interest from District Four, and they're certainly not me. Or Cal, though he seems to be lapping up a lot of attention.
Finnick is the main beauty. The main boy, the main victor – the most loved – and the mentor who, although doesn't help his tributes much, is the one that people look at lovingly. They want him, they want to see him, and they don't want to see me.
Maybe having him as a mentor will work to my advantage. Maybe, since I'm under his spell, he can charm his way around the people so they will sponsor and help me.
Maybe, just maybe, I need Finnick to win this.
I turn back to Finnick, but he doesn't notice. He's busy smiling the crowd. His crowd. His fans. I think of mother at home again, and imagine her watching me, begging me to do everything I can to win. So, I get out of my seat and go over to see Finnick, sitting down almost on his knee. I follow his lead and wave, smiling.
He stares at me before laughing. "Whatever you think will make you win," he whispers. I roll my eyes, but I carry on waving. And, to my surprise, the crowd wave back, smiling at me widely.
I really do need Finnick to win this.
AN – Short chapter for the start, but let me know if you like it and if I should finish! I had to make up a few names (Lana and Cal) because I didn't know who was there with Annie. I hope you like anyway. (: