"Prim, is everything alright?" mother asks rolling into the room.
I grit my teeth, and manage to pull out a response. "Yes everything's fine, still could though." I mumble, grabbing the blanket she had given me earlier and wrapping it around myself. "We never see it on television, but the President always comes to wish the Victors luck." I say.
"Oh." mother says, her face flooding with relief, because Katniss must have looked scared or shocked when she came out, my mother is one to jump to conclusions anyway. "I'll start you a bath." she says, and vanishes to do it.
I wait a few minutes, trying to let everything Snow has said sink in, when it dawned on me that the blood smell had come from his breath. What did he do, drink it? I shuddered at the thought as I trembled up the stairs to the bathroom, where a nice, warm tub awaits. My mother used a small bag of dried flowers to make the air smell more elegant, and the water feels silky when I take off my clothes and slide into it. I think about what I do next.
First things first, Rory, coming on Victory Tour with me. He's not a Victor. He could be arrested or even killed for coming with me. But if he has the President's approval, or even wish, that he go...I guess it would be okay. The problem though, in reality, is that Snow wants me to cling to Rory, to feel the way Peeta or Gale do, or I guess did, in Peeta's case, about Katniss. I could pull that off easily, in my sleep, even, the problem is, we've been friends forever. I don't want to scare him. I could tell him everything, but apparently Snow's watching me, so telling him could mean instant death, for everyone.
Next after that, Katniss, the President has been watching her personally. He knows of her and Gale's dealings in the woods and the Hob. It scares me even more than the blood. How long has he been watching them? As soon as I got to the final eight when people started to care about me, or has there just always been cameras at the fence? I don't know, I'm so lost in my head I can barely piece together any parts of the story.
I decide I have to tell someone about what just happened. Katniss? She'd personally try to send an arrow through Snow's skull. Mother? She might have a heart attack. Rory? He'll act weird on the Victory Tour if I say one word. Gale? He's always been like a big brother to me...but he's even more hotheaded than Katniss. That leaves one person who I'm willing to say anything to. I groan, but haul myself out of the tub after scrubbing my hair to make it clean.
When I step out, I dry off and find that mother's left some clean clothes for me, a long green tunic and a pair of simple black pants, nice. I put them on and step out of the bathroom, only to be ambushed by a confused and panicked Katniss, who almost has to drag me into her room.
"What's going on, Prim?" she asks me at a quick pace. "Why did the President come here? And don't lie."
I groan. I planned to tell Haymitch, not an overly scared-for-me Katniss. "He just wanted to wish me luck on the Victory Tour, and to tell me I can bring one friend," I lie. "So Rory's coming."
"Why Rory?" she asks, arching an eyebrow. "Why not, Vick, or Madge Undersee's little sister...what was her name? Calla? Or was it-?"
"Katniss." I cut her off. "I picked Rory because he's my best friend." I say. That shuts her up.
Katniss bites her lip she's said something rude and unforgivable. "Have fun, then," she mumbles. "Good luck in 5 and 11." she opens her door and lets me walk out.
I slide my boots back on at the front door, put on my jacket, tell my mother I'm going to see Haymitch, and then vanish out the door. I walk over to his house, thinking about Katniss' words. Obviously by telling me good luck in Districts 5 and 11, she meant; don't cry when you talk about Fay and Rue. I'll try.
"Haymitch!" I call, slamming my fist into his door a few times. No reply. I invite myself in. I collapse on the floor in laughter, weakly asking, "What happened to you?" in between my giggles.
Haymitch is soaking wet, trying to dry himself off, but soaked, nonetheless, so is his couch, and some areas of the floor. He has a towel in his hand and he keeps hitting himself with it, obviously not knowing the correct way to dry himself. "Your sister, that's what." he grumbles angrily.
More laughter, but I remember why I'm really here and climb to my feet, trying not to smile.
"So what do you want, sweetheart?" Haymitch asks, swatting himself with the towel again.
"I just need to talk to you." I say, sitting down in a chair, Haymitch sits on his soaked couch. I tell him everything Snow has told me, what happened with me and Katniss, and I'm worried is going to happen to everyone.
Haymitch scratches his head when I'm done, thinking. "Wow, you just had to grab the berries, didn't you?" he jokes, no one laughs. "Okay, okay, just fall in love with Rory, be cute and innocent, and stay alive. How hard can that be?"
"It just is Haymitch." I mutter, heading for the door, I had seeked help from him, someone to confide it, not someone to mock me. Obviously I made a mistake picking a drunk. I walk back out into the cold day, slumping my shoulders and walking back home. When I step inside, remove my boots and jacket, and turn around, I'm greeted by the three people most in the world I didn't want to see right now, plus Katniss.
"Primmie!" Venia says in a dramatic tone. "Your eyebrows!" she says, and Octavia comes up behind her to comfortingly pat her back. I look at Katniss, she's doing the best she can to stifle her laughter.
"Primmie?" she asks, raising an eyebrow at me.
I sigh. "Don't ask."
"It's okay, Venia, you can fix those in no time." Octavia says. "But these-" she grabs my hand, examining my nails. "Oh, Primmie, you could have left me something to work with!"
It's true, after waking up from nightmares every night since I've come out of the arena, my nails are now nothing but stubs. "Sorry." I manage to say.
"Oh, your hair," Flavius says, plucking little snow flakes out of it that managed to lightly fall from the sky. Hopefully more will come, I love the snow, the ground's not cold enough for it to stick yet, though. "No one cut it, did they?"
I shake my head. "No one."
"Oh, thank goodness!" he declares, then they all take me up to my room, sit me down in a chair, and get to work. Katniss comes along too, thinking I might like someone to talk to, plus I think she'd like to get to know more about my prep team.
"So, uh, who are you?" Katniss asks after they stop buzzing about the Quarter Quell.
"Oh!" Octavia says, dropping my hand lightly, almost done painting it. "We're Primmie's prep team, of course, I'm Octavia," she introduces herself. "And this is Flavius and Venia."
"Where's Cinna?" Katniss asks, obviously remembering what I had said on the walk home. "The stylist, right?"
"Cinna is putting the finishing touches on Primmie's outfit." Venia tells her. "He's actually downstairs right now, if you'd like to meet him Katniss, feel free to-"
Katniss is already gone, obviously curious as to what's so great about Cinna. But she'll probably never feel the same way about Cinna as I do, Cinna made me look, feel, and sound amazing. He helped me in everyway, and gave me courage when I was a stiff, scared child. He's one of my best friends, and all Katniss will probably ever see him as is a Capitol-trained dog.
When my prep team is done, I quickly run out of the room, eager to see Cinna. He looks the same as always, simple brown hair, gold eyeliner. We embrace quickly, it's to see him in person, we've been talking on the phone for a while now, but it's better to actually see him in person. On the phone, we've mostly just been discussing my talent. Encouraging some, ruling out other, but eventually deciding on the one thing I was good at.
"So, let me see your latest sketch."
Art. Turns out I'm a pretty good artist, drawing, painting, sculpting, you name it, I can do it. I mostly stick to drawing though, because I don't have an amazing eye for colors.
"Oh, one second," I say, running into the kitchen, where I left my little notebook he sent me to work in. "Here." I hand it to him.
He looks at it for a while, examining the details, mother, Katniss and the prep team seem confused by this. "Amazing, who is this?" he asks, handing it back to me, obviously, he never paid the girl on the paper any mind.
"Rue." I mumble, setting the notebook down. "When she was in the flowers." I tell him, and he weakly nods, suddenly remembering her. In the process of discovering that I was an artist, I tried cooking, flower arranging, flute playing, and lots of other things...but apparently none of them could hold light to my art. "Got my clothes?" I ask him, because the prep team had already taken everything off of me and given me a simple robe to lounge in.
"Sure," he says, tossing me a bundle of clothes. "Go get dressed."
Flowing, thick, and warm black pants, a comfortable white shirt, a pair of laced leather boots, and a nice sweater that's even softer than Buttercup, who I haven't seen all day. He's probably taking a nap.
"Prim!"
Oh. I know that voice. I cringe.
Effie Trinket seems to have appeared out of nowhere, but she does, hugging me and kissing me on both cheeks. "Okay people, we're on a schedule," she says, returning to being 100% Effie. "Primrose," she says, being formal. "We'll set up a few canvases and some paint for you, in the mean time, go get dressed."
I nod and dash out of the room, putting the clothes on, and quickly coming back. Effie examines some of my drawings, like the Rue picture, another one of Peeta's torn of body just before I gave the nightlock, Fay, playing with a fox, Rue with wings, and other things that poked into my head about some of the Tributes.
"Oh, no," Effie groans. "These simply won't do, President Snow won't approve of such rebellious art." she says, handing me the notebook. "Paint something more ordinary, please,"
I sigh, and think. The idea comes to me quickly, and I get to work as quick as possible, the camera crew watching me like hawks as my paintbrush moves faster than possible. The picture quickly comes together, the colors blending nicely and brining out the features on the girl's face. When I'm done, she looks stunning, and I smile when Katniss' hand sets itself on my shoulder.
"You made me too pretty." she mumbles.
I shake my head. "No, I made you perfect." The picture is of Katniss wearing her hunting clothes, poised in a tree, aiming her bow, ready to bring fresh game home. This particular picture would take place before I became the Victor...before she didn't need to hunt. Now, hunting was just a hobby for her, and sort of a class, when she brought me and Rory along.
After they admire the painting for a little bit, mother, Katniss and me are thrown out so they can shoot it in peace.
Mother is interviewed first, she's timid, knowing the Capitol will see everything she says, and not wanting to screw up. Katniss' interview is bolder; she even goes out to say that she's a hunter, which could get her killed. Or would, before she became the sister of a Victor.
Cinna puts a coat on me, it's huge, and is very soft. Next comes a thick red scarf, and a pair of leather cloves. He tries to give me earmuffs, but I refuse, they muffle my hearing and I'd prefer a hat anyway, so he gives me one to match the scarf, instead.
My mother comes up behind me, and places some unknown thing in my hand. "For good luck."
I open my hand. The Mockingjay pin, the pin I wore in the arena, the pin that reminds me of Rue every time I look at it. "Thank you," I say, and pin it to my coat.
Effie Trinket claps her hands. "Okay, Primrose, we're about to do the first outdoor shot, for the beginning of the marvelous trip. Big smile, you're very excited, right?"
"Sure." I mumble. "Is Rory here?" I ask, then realize that me, Snow, and Katniss are the only ones who even know that he's supposed to come. Mrs. Hawthorne hasn't even heard a peep out of me yet... "President Snow has asked me to bring a friend with me on my trip, so I chose my best friend, Rory."
"Well, go get them, why don't you?" Effie asks in an annoyed voice.
"Fine, we'll be here in a few minutes." I say, then run towards Rory's house, I would walk, back in the Seam, we didn't live very far away from each other, but now that I live in Victor's Village, it's a bit out of my way.
When I finally get there, I see Posy and Vick playing outside, this makes me smile.
"Hey, guys," I say, smiling down at the younger children.
"Prim!" Posy declares, launching herself into my arms where we embrace. It's true; whenever I'm around they're asleep, or in school. When I came out of the arena, I was told that there are a lot of things I would be doing, no school for a year, two, maybe, so I haven't really seen them in a long time.
"Nice to see you too, Posy," I say, kissing her on top of her little red-haired head. "I'm looking for Rory, seen him?"
"Mommy's cleaning the blood off his hunting bag," Posy tells me. "Rory's with her."
"Thanks," I say, patting her on the head. I knock a few times on the door, then invite myself inside. "Rory?" I call. No reply. I seek him out myself, knocking on almost every door in the house, when finally, Mrs. Hawthorne's room turns out to be the right one.
"Come in." her gentle voice calls, I quietly enter. "Hello, Prim."
"Can I borrow him?" I ask, referring to Rory who's relaxing in a chair.
"What for?" Rory asks, snapping out of it.
I bite my lip, if I tell him my lie, he might say he doesn't want to go. If I tell him the truth, Snow could kill him. I decide quickly what to do. "President Snow has ordered that I bring my best friend with me." Sort of the truth, sort of the lie.
"Can I go, mom?" Rory asks, brightening at the question. "I really wanna see the other Districts."
"I don't..." Mrs. Hawthorne trails off, considering the fact that Rory's dream has always been to, first of all, be as good of a hunter as Gale, and second, to travel somewhere far away and see amazing things. "Okay, but, it won't be dangerous, will it?"
I shake my head. "Not at all." I say. "Come on, we should get going, or Effie Trinket will bare down on us with the rage of a beast." I tell him dramatically.
Mrs. Hawthorne kisses Rory on the head. "Have fun, I'll tell Gale when he gets home." she kisses the fingers and extends them to both of us, we return the gesture.
As fast as we can, we run back home, the cameras are already rolling, awaiting my return. I put together the act President Snow wants to see, I take Rory's hand.
"Thanks for coming with me," I say, my cheeks are rosy red, and I thank the seasons for making it Winter, because I bet it looks like I'm blushing.
Rory smiles. "No problem, Prim," he tells me. "It's an honor." he says in come kind of Capitol accent, bowing to me, still holding my hand. I giggle, not for what Snow said, I simply giggle. Things between Rory and me can be complicated, but other times, we're just two friends laughing at everything we say.
After this, time passes quick, the goodbyes, the smiles, the food, the television, watching it all again. It's sort of hazy, but I end up wearing silky pajamas, sitting on the couch next to Rory. It's not long before I black out. Tonight, because he watches me, there are no nightmares.
