"Oh please don't tell me this is what I think it is! Mason? Odair?"
An angry voice is trying to penetrate my mind but I won't let it. Just for a few seconds, I want to be right where I am, on a bench on top of the training centre in Finnick's arms. If I could just pretend that I'm still asleep, I could be a girl for a few moments longer, just a simple vulnerable girl.
I hear Finnick grumble something while Haymitch is still producing a strain of curse words. "Shht," I say while I nudge Finnick with my right arm, "just ignore him. Maybe he'll go away."
"Like hell I will, Mason!" Haymitch shouts.
I peer through my eyelashes and see Haymitch standing in front of us with his hands on his hips.
"What's your problem, Abernathy?" I grumble while shooting him a furious look.
"My problem is that two of our favorite Victors missed the medical check-up!"
With that he meant that we missed the rebel-meeting, in case someone was eavesdropping. Whatever, I had better things to do than hearing that I have protect that idiotic girl with my life again. Apparently, Haymitch knew exactly what I was thinking.
"But you obviously couldn't be bothered with the check-up because you were obviously examining each other!"
I felt my cheeks getting redder by the second.
"Oh go get drunk and leave us be!" I shout at him.
"No, he's right actually. We shouldn't have missed the check-up." Finnick says while getting up.
I can sense he's not alright, definitely not the same Finnick as last night. I shoot him a confused and angry look and when he turns his head I see his eyes are drowning in guilt. Great.
Now that Haymitch has gotten proof that we are actually planning on getting up and going downstairs, he just huffs and leaves. I keep sitting on the bench, waiting for Finnick to say something. He doesn't but he puts out his hand to pull me up. We head towards the exit in silence but once we're in the elevator and he pushes the button that says 4, I open my mouth to ask why not 7 but he cuts me off as if he knew what I was going to say. "It's our first day back which means breakfast at my floor, remember?" Right. I nod.
When we enter the dining room on the fourth floor, my escort is already sipping from her cup of tea and talking animatedly with Finnick's escort. My stylist is giving her opinion about some dress Mags' stylist had made but apparently, the two do not agree. The scene in front of me is so familiar. Ever since my first year of mentoring, Finnick had invited me and my escort and stylist to have breakfast at his floor. The next day it was my floor's turn. We continued spending our mornings together like this for the last five years. Even our Avoxes knew the drill by now and I wave at the kind blonde Avox who always brings me a hot cup of cacao before I go to bed.
Even before I can sit down on my chair, the ping of the elevator announces someone's arrival and I turn around only to look at president Snow himself. I have the urge to say 'What do you want?' but I force myself to rephrase it and ask "President Snow, what a surprise! To what do we owe the pleasure of your company?"
He gives me one of his disgusting smiles. "I heard you and Mr. Odair were missing so I wanted to see for myself you two were OK. Now, are you OK or should I be worried about your absence last night?"
Finnick and I look at each other, confusion all over our faces. We have always been very good actors.
"We were just out last night, like we always do when we're in the Capitol. We don't have that many clubs in our Districts, you know." I say with a chuckle. Apparently, he doesn't buy it.
"Unfortunately for you miss Mason, I have checked with every bartender and no one saw you two last night. Why are you lying to me, your president?"
Eh, because you're a selfish bastard who I will kill one day with my bare hands and because I just love lying to you?
"Because we were in disguise," Finnick says, "We just didn't want to be bothered, just wanted to have some fun."
"But you are Victors! Why wouldn't you want to be recognized?"
The tension in the room is getting harder and harder to ignore and president Snow just keeps on smiling while the rest of us is holding our breath. I can tell he knows we're lying, I just hope for our sakes he doesn't know where we really were.
"Have a nice day." He says while turning around to go back to the elevator. After he's left, I run off to Finnick's bathroom, mumbling something about washing up.
When I'm in there, I sit down on the edge of the tub, desperately trying to stop my hands from trembling. I don't have anything to lose but Finnick does so if Snow knows… if he knows… I can feel a panic attack forming inside of me but Finnick enters the bathroom just in time to pull me into a hug and calm me down with soothing words.
"He scares me, Finn. He just freaking scares me. And I can't tell anyone because everyone believes I'm the girl who's never afraid of anything. I'm the hardcore Victor, like I should belong in District 1 or 2. But I'm afraid of Snow and the only way to stop it, is to kill him myself. I want to kill him, for everything he has done to me, for everything he has done to you. I'd kill him for you too, you know that right?"
I look up with tears in my eyes, unable to really shed them. Finnick just stares back and nods. "I'd kill him for you too, Jo."
"So, now that you two have found the time to attend our meeting, we can discuss how we are going to proceed," Haymitch says once Finnick and I are in an old locker room nearby the previous training room. This is where most of our meetings take place; we switch rooms rapidly because it's makes it harder to be discovered.
"What did you discuss this morning, when Johanna and I … forgot to come?" Finnick asks Haymitch.
"Everyone vowed to risk their lives to save Katniss and Peeta," Haymitch answers bluntly.
"What?!" I shout, "Since when has committing suicide become part of the plan?"
"Johanna, shut your mouth for once in your life, will you!" Haymitch shouts back at me. "This is not about committing suicide but when the time comes that it's either you or Katniss or Peeta, the choice is easily made: you die." he continues.
"Oh no no no no no. No. Remember the time when I was the face of the rebellion? Huh? When I was our most fearless rebel? Well, do you? I had to give that up, give it to that stupid cow. I lived for the rebellion, I sacrificed everything for the rebellion, I continued to whore myself out for the rebellion. I had something to live for! And now I'm just another middle-of-the-road rebel who can easily be missed and replaced. So if you're asking me to give up my freedom, my life, for her too, I won't. If you want them to live that badly, fine, enter the arena yourself. I apparently don't matter enough anymore. I'm merely a shield. A defense. I'm supposed to be the attacker, not the defender! I-"
"Jo, that's enough." Finnick interferes.
I throw him a furious look and leave the room, not without kicking a chair and slamming the door shut with a loud bang combined with a strain of curses. After five minutes our ranting and raving outside the room, I enter it again very calmly.
"So," I ask, still very calm, "what's new?"
Finnick only needs to give me one look to tell me he has made the vow too. And I also know why: because he wants to give Annie a better life.
"Fine. I vow too. I, Johanna Mason, Victor of the 69th Hunger Games and Panem's most hated genius, vow to risk my much appreciated and useful life to save our dear huntress and her loverboy slash bakerboy. Will this do?"
"Why are you mocking this, Johanna?" Finnick asks me.
"First of all, I meant what I said, the vowing and stuff. And secondly, if I'm not allowed to mock I might as well be dead. Not that you all care. Only Katniss' life matters to you."
"You know that's not true, Johanna," Haymitch says, using my first name to emphasize the empathy in his voice.
"I don't know anything anymore. Come on Odair, we needed to be at the training centre five minutes ago."
I grumble ever so lightly when Finnick drags me upstairs to our place at the top of the training centre, his hand tightly gripping my arm. I realize my moodswings are getting way out of hand but this is me, no one else should expect anything different. When we get up on the roof, I notice the sun has almost set completely.
"What the hell is the matter with you, Johanna?" Finnick yells once we have arrived at our bench.
"Nothing is the matter. Can I just be pissed about my life right now? Thank you very much."
I rub the spot where his hand had gripped my arm. It's bruised and turning purple already.
"If it bothers you that much to give your life for the rebellion, for your freedom, than why did you vow to do it?"
"You really, honestly, think I did it for the rebellion? I did it for you, you idiot. Because you asked me to. I'm risking my life because my best friend, the only man I've ever loved, asked me to!"
I can feel my eyes burning, not with tears but with the fire of rage that's running through my veins.
"Why did you listen to me, huh?" Finnick asks me, throwing his hands in the air as if he really doesn't understand why I did it. "You are Johanna Mason. You listen to no one. I expect you to be the girl you always were!"
"I'm sorry, aren't you supposed to give a peptalk about killing myself? Because if you are, you're not really succeeding: first you ask me to do it and now you're asking me why I ever listened to you, why I changed my mind. You know what Finnick, if you expect me to be the girl I always was, well, you got it."
And with that, I bowed, smiled arrogantly and walked away before he could stop me. I know what I need and head towards the place I can find everything.
I throw a couple of Capitol notes in the driver's lap and get out of the Capitol Cab. Neon letters are saying 'FabCap', for Fabulous Capitol. I enter the club and turn heads immediately. I ignore the nosy questions from superficial Capitol girls and walk straight to the bar where the pink-haired bartender puts my drink on as soon as I arrive. "Evening miss Mason," he says, "You look good in that black dress. Where did you get it?"
"Like you care. This may be the Capitol but men are still not supposed to wear black mini-dresses."
He shrugs and turns his attention to a new costumer, a boy with brown curls who looks about my age. He's obviously born in the Capitol, I can tell from the large golden tattoo on the side of his neck. I must admit, it looks good on him. It's some weird, curly, flowery thing. Anyway, it looks good on him and the way his eyes keep flickering back to me, he must think the same about my dress, or hair, or face. Before the Victor-Johanna, I would've never dared to go out in public in a dress like this. Way too short, way too black, way too much leg showing. But now I don't care anymore. The Johanna from before the Victor-Johanna doesn't exist anymore. This morning, the last piece of the before-Johanna had vanished.
"Give her something too," I hear the brown-haired boy say.
"That 'her' has a name, moron." I say, waving my now empty glass at the bartender.
"That 'moron' has a name too, Johanna" the boy echoes me.
"Whatever. I just call you Golden Boy, for your tattoo, you know."
"Golden Boy. Isn't that how you call your so-called best friend?"
I don't like the way he says those last two words. There's too much contempt in it. The pink-haired bartender puts another drink in front of me and I empty it in one big gulp.
"Weren't you buying me a drink?" I ask the guy. Golden Boy just smirks, thinking he has won this one.
After sixty minutes and in total five of my favorite cocktails, Golden Boy and I are dancing as if our lives depended on it. Elias – he told me his name at our fourth drink – is actually quite charming. He told me a lot about his life here, his parents and his school which was apparently filled with Escorts-to-be. His role-model is Cinna, the District 12 stylist. I can't really blame him: Cinna's hot and so are his clothes, literally and figuratively. He also told me he hated me when I started my games, even after I had won them, but his mother had spilled the deeds about my life right now which caused him to see me in a whole new perspective.
His hands are all over my body as I we are making our way through the crowd, lips locking every once in a while. It's been too long since I've gone out like this: drinking, dancing, picking up the hottest guy. I realize how slutty this is but everyone needs this sometimes. Just to remember yourself that you're still just a normal girl, that you get to pick the guy sometimes too, that it's not always the guy who picks (and pays for) you.
Elias' hand is tangled up in my hair while his other is on my hip, following my movements. We bump into some people without apologizing, just laughing, thinking we're the most sexy couple on the dancefloor. Until we bump into the real Golden Boy, Finnick, and a woman who looks about forty with rainbow-colored hair.
"Having fun, are we?" Finnick asks, gritting his teeth.
"Actually, I am. Have you met Golden Boy II yet?" I say while holding Elias' hand in mine.
Elias smiles arrogantly but friendly. "It's Elias. Nice to meet you." He holds out his other hand but Finnick doesn't shake it, in fact his eyes never leave mine.
"You're drunk."
"Whoow. 0-1 for District 4!"
"Come on, let's get you home."
"Who's Little Miss Rainbow?"
"My date for the night. I thought you had yours this afternoon?"
"I did. This one's for fun."
Elias and Finnick's date are eyeing us curiously, trying to make sense of our conversation. Not that it's that difficult to get but most Capitol citizens don't know about the prostitution business, apart from Elias of course. But he's just trying to figure out where Finnick and I are exactly, since he referred to him as 'my best friend' and we're obviously fighting right now.
Finnick's eyebrows shoot up at my last sentence and I can't help but laugh at it.
"For fun, huh. What…happened to … the roof?" he asks hesitantly.
"The roof is dying, Finnickins. Why bother waiting for its last breath?"
There it is. Now he knows I'm still pissed about the fact that I have to die for Katniss and Peeta.
"Some people like to fight for something like the roof."
"Yeah, some people do. Too bad you gave up already. Now, would you excuse me? I'd like to go back to my date-for-fun."
I turn around and am headed towards the bar where Elias is now standing with two drinks in his hand. I grab mine and pour it out over Finnick's head as soon as I feel his hand tightening around my arm.
"Too bad you still don't see the warning signs, Odair. It's my life, let me enjoy what's left of it."
People gasp at the sight of a soaking wet Finnick. Seventy-five percent of the women in this club looks at me as if they want to kill me, really slowly, but I don't care.
Finnick leaves the club and I desperately try to gain back the fun I had earlier on but it's no use. An hour later, I'm sitting in the elevator which is taking me to the fourth floor. The doors open but I can't get myself together to stand up so I just keep sitting there, watching the doors close.
Eventually, the doors open again and Finnick is standing in front of me, bending over to pick me up from the floor. I might have been drunker than I thought.
He carries me to his bedroom, puts me down on his bed, helps me to get undressed and throws me one of his shirts, all without saying a word.
"I'm sorry I was so pissed at you today," is what I manage to say. My voice sounds hoarse.
"It's okay. We all have days like that. You have them more often than the average person but anyway, it happens."
I look at him, tears stinging my eyes.
"Snow came to me today, right after the training."
He nods, urging me to continue. I swallow the lump in my throat.
"He told me my house in District 7 burnt down. Including the roof."
"Including the roof? Isn't that normal when there's a fire. I mean…Oh!"
Finnick's eyes widen when he gets the meaning behind Snow's words.
"He knows?"
I nod. It should've been obvious when Snow came to see us during breakfast but I was a little bit preoccupied with other stuff at the moment.
I let myself fall in the cloudy nothingness of Finnick's pillows and cover my eyes with my hands.
"I have nothing left, Finn. My house was the last thing in District 7 that was mine. Now I have no family, no friends, no house, nothing."
He lays his head next to mine and takes my hand, giving it a comforting squeeze.
"Since when do you have 'no friends'? What am I, invisible?"
He says it with a laugh but I know he's slightly hurt by my words.
"I mean in District 7. You're my friend here. There's a difference: we became friends because we needed the support, because we couldn't deal with everything all by ourselves. We became friends out of need. My friends at District 7, not that I had many of them but still, they liked me for who I was there. That Johanna is gone now. Completely."
"I wonder if we would've been friends if we lived in the same district, without the Hunger Games, without being Victors who are being sold to horny Capitolians."
His words paint an absurd image in my head: Finnick learning to chop wood in District 7. I start laughing.
"What's funny?"
"You with an axe? No. It just doesn't work, not in my head at least."
He chuckles.
"Yeah well, I don't really see you with a trident either, or cleaning fish."
We both start laughing like little children and just because it had been such a long time since we had a laugh like this one, we don't stop until our stomachs hurt too much.
"You know Jo, you sober up really quickly. That's what I noticed today."
"That's what you noticed? Well, you sort of interrupted my drunkenness. I was pretty drunk and having fun but then you and your lousy date came sneaking up from behind. Anyway, everyone sobers up from a fight with their best friend."
"So I'm still your best friend?"
I poke him playfully with my elbow.
"Of course you are." I turn around and make myself comfortable in his arms, ready to drift off to sleep. "And by the way, you would've been my friend in that alternate universe without Hunger Games too."
