Hey guys... another chapter for you tonight, covering chapters 9 and 10 of 'Annie's Story'. As the title suggests, lots of anger, lots of agitation and lots of anxiety too. Just an angsty chapter in general really ;)

Anyways, thanks to those who've reviewed and favourited/alerted, it's a huge compliment, so thank you... Right, gushing aside, enjoy x


CHAPTER THREE - ANGER AND AGITATION


"Finnick, sweetie, stop it." Violet Lovedaie coos from where she's sat on a plush purple sofa. "You're just winding yourself up."

Currently, I'm pacing agitatedly up and down the corridor outside the gym with some of the mentors, waiting for our tributes to finish their private sessions with the Gamemakers. Well, I'm the only one pacing. Everyone else is seated on one of the sofas or leant up against the wall.

I don't know what's wrong with me. I'm never this anxious.

I shoot a fierce glare in the direction of district 4's charming escort and she subsides with tut and a shake of her head.

The training room door suddenly swings open and Ash – the kid from district 2 – parades through, out into the corridor. His chest is puffed out like a flipping parrot and he walks the unmistakable swagger of an arrogant little jerk.

"How did you do?" Brutus is upon him immediately.

"Awesome." Ash announces smugly. "A 10 at least."

He spots me scowling at him and his eyebrows lift in a what ya looking at, punk gesture.

"Worried about Cresta?" He smirks. My eyes narrow.

"Why would I be?"

"Just 'cause she's gonna flunk it. Got no guts, you see."

I feel my lips pull back into a fierce snarl.

"You keep your mouth shut."

His smirk widens.

"I can't tell you how much I'm going to enjoy killing her..."

That does it. I start towards him, suddenly furious.

"Shut the hell up..."

"Woah, hey Finnick man..." Brutus pulls Ash away, stepping in between us. "Calm down."

"Yeah." Ash rolls his eyes. "Sheesh."

My fists clench and if it wouldn't cause any damage to my own tributes, I'd punch him in his stupid face.

"Brutus." I say through gritted teeth. "If you don't get him out of my sight, I swear I will murder him."

Ash lets out a snort and Brutus turns on him.

"Hey kid, leave it off." The cheeky little bugger rolls his eyes again and Brutus cuffs him across the ear. "Get out of here!"

Mumbling angrily under his breath, Ash turns on his heel and storms off. I glare after him.

"Sorry man." Brutus shakes his head once his tribute has disappeared through the double doors at the end of the corridor. "He's a flipping maniac."

I shrug, still angry but knowing there isn't much I can really do.

"No more than we are."

"Yeah." Brutus shoots me a sidelong glance. "But none of us were that bonkers before the Games." He pauses and I see a little smirk flicker across his lips. "Except for Enobaria perhaps..."

I let out a humourless laugh.

"I don't know what they do to you in District 2."

I see Brutus's forehead crease.

"Seriously man, you really don't want to know."


...


"Annie." I knock gently on her en suite bathroom door. "Annie, open up, please."

"Go away." She shouts and then I hear her throw up again. I wait for her to finish and then continue my knocking.

"Annie?"

"Leave me alone!"

I sigh.

"Was it really that bad?"

"No, I was great... Now leave me alone!"

She vomits again and I wince. I can't tell if she's telling me the truth or not... but then, why would she be hurling up everything she's eaten today if she'd been great during her private session? And by the way she'd burst through the gym doors and fled upstairs, completely ignoring me and Violet, I can tell something went wrong.

"Annie..."

"Go away, Finnick!" She screams through the door.

"But..."

"I don't want to talk to you!"

I let out another sigh. I guess I'll just have to wait for the scores to come in, since she won't tell me anything.

As I walk away, I hear her gag and then another round of vomit splashes down the toilet.


...


"Good evening, Ladies and Gentlemen..." Claudius Templesmith and Caesar Flickerman's beaming faces appear on the TV and I settle into the sofa next to Ethan. "Get your purses ready." Claudius Templesmith continues. "Because we've got some very promising tributes this year."

"That'll be you." I tell Ethan. He gives me a half smile but I can tell he's nervous.

"Have I missed anything?" Mags ambles in, her eyes on the television.

"No, they haven't started yet." I say. "Flickerman's just doing the spiel."

"Where's Annie?" Ethan asks suddenly.

"Throwing up in the toilet." I reply drily and his eyes widen.

"Oh."

After a quick recap of the scoring rules and the numbers people need to place bets, the scores are eventually announced.

"District 1." Templesmith says and Jasmine and Preese's faces appear on the screen behind his head. As he announces their names and their scores, the numbers appear too.

Jasmine receives an 8 and Preese a 5.

Not bad considering the girl's about the size of a fairy.

"District 2."

Seela – the terrifying girl with dark eyes, dark hair and full pouty lips – achieves a 10.

Ash gets a 9.

I burst out laughing, earning myself an odd look from Mags and Ethan. Bet Ash ain't too happy right now...

"District 3."

The little girl, Mia, (Beetee's niece) gets a 2 and Mags and I exchange little worried glances. That's pretty low, even for a twelve year old.

Poor Beetee.

And then...

"District 4." Flickerman announces. Annie's photograph – her green eyes wide and the one corner of her lips lifted in a hesitant smile – appears behind his head. "Annie Cresta." He continues, glancing down at the cards in his hands and I hold my breath... "8."

Yes!

Mags lets out a little whoop and I laugh. An 8. How the hell did she manage that?

"Ethan Marborough." Flickerman carries on, shuffling his cards, smiling at the camera.

I feel Ethan tense next to me.

"10."

Ethan leaps to his feet, pumping his fist.

"Yes!"

I stand too, slapping him on the back.

"Well done, Marborough!"

"A 10!" He shakes his head. " I don't believe it... I didn't even hit the bullseye every time."

"Good work, sweetie." Mags nods from the other sofa, her eyes pleased.

Ethan grins, throwing himself back on the sofa with a happy sigh.

"And Annie got an 8 too!" He continues. "I thought she did badly...You know, what with the locking herself away in the bathroom."

"And the vomiting?" I interject, sitting back down next to him. He gives me a worried look.

"Yeah and that. I should probably go and tell her she hasn't got anything to worry about."

"Nah." I flap a hand at him as he makes to stand up. "She'll come when she's ready."

And so we leave her be, instead staying in the living room to watch the rest of the scores being announced. The other Career – the boy from 7 – gets a 10 too (there's some stiff competition this year) and then the small girl – Belle – from 11 gets a 4. The boy from 11, the one Annie has nicknamed Sneaky Eyes whenever she mentions him, gets a 9.

A 9!

"Wow." Ethan frowns. "Annie was right. I suppose we'd better watch him."

Whilst Templesmith is reminding people that they can still sponsor the tribute of their choice, I think back over the rest of the scores. Apart from the seven Careers and the kid from 11, none are particularly worrying... oh, except for the girl from 12 who got an 8.

Still, that's a lot of competition for my kids.

"Have the scores come in?" We all look up to see Annie standing in the doorway of her bedroom, still looking a little green around the gills.

Ethan quickly relays them to her and I see her eyes light up when he tells her she got an 8. But then he tells her Belle got a 4 and she bites her lip, blanching a little, and then, before I can stop him, he mentions Mia's 2.

Her hand flies to her mouth and then she turns tail and legs it, disappearing again into her room. She doesn't shut the door and so we all hear when she slams into the bathroom, barely making it to the toilet before she starts throwing up again.

I turn and smack Ethan hard over the head.


...


That night, once I've packed Annie and Ethan off to bed, I head down to one of the betting stalls (deliberately picking the one stationed in the most expensive and exclusive club in the Capitol) to check out the odds and schmooze a few more sponsors.

There's a huge board up behind the bar listing the tribute's names and their odds.

Annie Cresta: 8:1

Ethan Marborough: 3:1

Not bad. Not bad at all. Ethan's tying for best odds with Ash and Seela, whilst Reuben – the boy from 7 – lags behind a little with 4:1. Apparently, the Gamemakers have decided Ash's aggression trumps Reuben's strength.

"Alright, Odair?" The bartender, Buzz, winks at me, shoving a pint of something purple in my direction. I wrinkle my nose.

"What is that?"

He laughs.

"Trust me... it's good."

I shake my head.

"Nah, it's fine thanks. I'm down here on business."

"Ah yeah, looking for sponsors?"

"Yup." I nod. "Any advice about the people here tonight?"

Buzz straightens and looks around.

"That chick over there..." He point towards a young woman with pale blue skin. "She's real easy, just flirt with her a bit and she's all yours. Uhh," He looks around again. "That guy there." He points out an older man dressed in a relatively plain suit. "Don't mess around with him. Tell him what you want, straight like. He doesn't appreciate flattery... And him." He nods towards a man in a hideous ruffled green shirt thingy. "I heard him saying earlier how hot he thought your girl was."

For some strange reason, I tense.

"Annie?"

"Yeah yeah, that was it. Annie."

"What did he say?"

Buzz shrugs.

"Don't remember exact like. Just remember him saying he wouldn't mind a bit of her. He'll probably sponsor her for you."

I manage a tight smile.

"Right. Okay. Thanks."

Buzz shoots me a grin.

"Any time, mate."


...


"Ah, if it isn't Finnick Odair!" The man in the awful green shirt greets me like I'm a long lost brother, throwing an arm around my shoulders.

I've already secured sponsorship from the blue skinned girl (Buzz was right, a few compliments and she was eating from my hand) and the stern old man (He'd agreed to sponsor my kids solely based on their training scores) and now I'm tackling this green shirted monstrosity.

"Good evening." I say, extricating myself from his grasp, fighting the urge to smack him in the face.

"So." The man slouches onto one of the sofas. "I assume you're looking for sponsors?"

"That is correct."

"Brilliant." The man gestures to the cushion next to him "Do sit, Odair, you're making me uncomfortable."

Good, I think, but I sit anyway. A sponsor – no matter how irritating – is still a sponsor.

"You're a lucky one, ain't ya, Odair?" The man – whom I've realised is actually a smidge drunk – leers at me.

"Oh really?" I ask tightly. "Why?"

"All those young things..." He smiles wistfully. Okay, so not only a creep, but a pervert too. Great.

I pretend not to have understood what he said.

"I'm not following you..."

"And your girl this year." He lets out a low whistle. "She is hot." I can't help the little growl that slips through my teeth, but the fool is too bloody drunk to even notice. "What I wouldn't give to..."

Right. That's enough.

"Do you want to sponsor her?" I interrupt.

He sits forward then, leaning his elbows on his knees.

"Maybe."

"Maybe?" I echo.

He smirks, a wolfish, predatory smirk. I'm not liking the look of this.

"Maybe we can make a deal..."

"A deal?"

"We-ell," He says, drawing out the sound. "She still has all of tonight and all of tomorrow in the Capitol. I'm sure you can spare her for an hour or two."

I stare at him, hardly able to believe what I'm hearing. The nerve of this jerk!

"What?" I ask dangerously.

He rolls his eyes.

"I said..."

"I heard what you said." I interrupt furiously. "And my answer is no."

"Look Odair..."

"It's against the rules." I snap. Not to mention there is no way on earth he's ever laying a finger on Annie Cresta.

"I won't say anything if you don't." He sing songs, apparently oblivious to my anger.

"She's not for sale." I snarl.

"Come on." He holds his hands out. "I'm willing to pay a lot for her."

"It doesn't matter." I scowl. "You're not having her."

His eyes turn cold.

"Are you sure about that, Odair?"

I grit my teeth.

"Completely."

His lip curls into a fierce glower.

"I have a lot of money, Odair," He growls. "So I'd think pretty long and hard about turning me down..."

"Forget it." I stand and wave him off. "Annie Cresta is not for sale. End of story."

I go to turn away but he launches himself to his feet, grabbing hold of my arm in a vice like grip. I stop still, turning my head slowly to glare at him.

"Take your hand off me now."

There is a silence as people around realise what's going on, as I fight to control my anger, as that infuriatingly arrogant smirk drifts back across his lips.

His nostrils flare.

"Make me."

And so I do. Make him that is. And my preferred method of making him is punching him in his stupid face.

Repeatedly.

Well, at least until he's out cold on the floor and I'm being dragged away by the bartender and some other members of staff.

"I'm sorry, mate, but I'm going have to ban you." Buzz tells me as he escorts me to the door. I mutter an apology but then I'm outside in the cold night air, the door closing behind me.

Great. Just great.

I've lost a lucrative sponsor (although there was no way I was going to sell one of my tributes) and I've probably scared off a whole load more. I'll bet someone got a picture and it'll be in the papers tomorrow; The Great Finnick Odair protecting the virtue of his poor little helpless tribute.

Although I know I sort of just saved her, I still somehow feel like I've let Annie down.


...


The next day is interview day and me, Mags and Violet spend all day working with Annie and Ethan to prepare them for it. Ethan's angle is deadly through and through but I decide that won't work with Annie.

She's pretty and tough enough to get a training score of 8, but she's not deadly. She's smart enough to survive in difficult situations but she's not really a killer. Personally, I think that once she's in the arena, her survival instincts will kick in, but she doesn't seem convinced.

When I tell her she's already got some sponsors, her mouth falls open and she stares at me in complete and utter surprise.

"Really?"

I laugh.

"Yeah, they're all under the impression you're some kind of beautiful warrior princess..."

Her cheeks turn pink and she gives a sort of inelegant grunt.

"Well, they're going to be disappointed."

I roll my eyes. What is with this girl?

"Stop it, Annie."

She fixes me with a glare.

"Stop what? Thinking I'm going to die? Because I am."

I glare straight back at her, my eyebrows furrowed.

"You don't know that."

"I do." She shoots back.

"You are such a pessimist!"

"No," She puts a hand on her hip. "Just a realist."

And then I'm suddenly furious with her.

"Stop it!" I explode, throwing my hands exasperatedly into the air. "What the hell is wrong with you?"

Surprise passes momentarily across her face and then she set her expression into a stony scowl.

"Me? What's wrong with me? How about... um, I don't know, maybe the fact that I'm going to die tomorrow and the whole country is going to be cheering on my murderer!"

"You don't know that!"

"Of course I do!" She glowers at me. "Yes, I've got sponsors now, but that'll all stop when they realise I'm not what they think I am, that this is all a lie!"

"It's not a lie!" I cry angrily. "You got an 8!"

"I threw a couple of spears at a target, Finnick! Not a real person."

"It's no different." I tell her.

And then I see something inside her snap and she turns on me, so angry her face is bright red and her hands are shaking.

"Of course it's bloody different!" She bellows. "I can't kill someone! For goodness sake, Finnick, I get upset on those whaling trips back home, and they're just whales!"

"You'll change." I tell her, because I did. Because the moment I got my hands on that trident I knew I could get home, I knew I could win. "You'll do what you have to do."

"No, I won't!" She screeches. " I will never ever change! I would rather die than kill someone else and just because you had no problem ramming that stupid trident through people's chests, doesn't mean I don't." She takes a ragged breath, her eyes completely and utterly incensed. "Not everyone's as cold and heartless as you are, Finnick Odair."

I actually flinch as if she's slapped me across the face.

She stares at me, her mouth open, regret in her eyes. She might be thinking of apologising but I don't care. I actually don't care.

How dare she stand there and tell me I'm a cold, heartless killer? Doesn't she realise that unless she wants to die a horrifically painful death, then she'll have to kill too?

How bloody dare she?

"Don't you dare judge me, Annie Cresta." I snarl and I see her shrink back a little under my furious gaze. "Not before you get in that arena and see what it's like for yourself."

She glares at me.

"With all the help you're giving me." She spits. "I'll probably die in the first five minutes anyway."

And then because I'm still embarrassed from the debacle in the club last night, because she doesn't know how bloody hard I'm working to get people to sponsor her, because she doesn't realise how much I really want her to win, I say the most awful thing I can think of.

"Good! Then I can focus on Ethan and maybe bring home a winner this year."

And then I turn on my heel and stalk away, slamming the door shut behind me so hard the whole wall shakes.


...


"Finnick?"

I lift my head from my hands and look over my shoulder to see Mags in the doorway.

"Shouldn't you be with Ethan?" I ask. She smiles, shuffling into the room.

"Shouldn't you be with Annie?"

"She got on my nerves." I say as she comes to sit next to me.

"Really?" She hides smile.

"What?"

"I'm just wondering whether you got on hers first..." I grunt and Mags chuckles. "She's a nice girl."

"I know."

"Smart, too."

"I know." I fix my old mentor with a glare. "What are you getting at?"

Mags sighs.

"She has a shot at this."

"No, she doesn't." I say a smidge miserably.

"Of course she does." Mags says gently.

"I don't care anyway." I cross my arms like a child. "Ethan could win."

Ever perceptive, Mags eyes me kindly.

"But you want Annie to win, don't you?"

"No!" I cry. "I just... I just don't particularly want her to die." Her eyebrows raise and I let out a little grumpy sigh. "Fine. I want her to win... I can't explain it. I have no idea why. I just do." I take a sharp breath before exclaiming: "But she doesn't even seem want to win! She went crazy when I suggested she should think about killing someone."

"Suggested?" Mags gives me one of her slight smiles.

I deflate.

"Well, I might have shouted at her a bit..."

She shakes her head, laughing softly.

"Oh, Finnick."

"What?" I ask hotly.

"She's very pretty." She smirks.

"So I've been told." I reply with a scowl, but I slump back against the sofa, suddenly feeling very drained. I should be used to this by now... sending kids – not much younger than me – off to their deaths.

But I don't know. Something about this Games – and the kids I'm sending off – seems to be hitting me harder than ever before.

Mags reaches out and takes my hand, her old paper thin skin pale against my tanned fingers. I suddenly realise that she's essentially all I have and that at some point, her life will end and I'll be left with no one. There are the other mentors and my sister, of course, but Mags... Mags is my rock.

Tears collect under my eyelids but I blink them furiously away. I never cry.

Mags doesn't tell me it'll all be alright, because she knows it probably won't be. Instead, she squeezes my hand reassuringly.

"Anything can happen in the Games, Finnick." She says. "Just look at me. I never killed anyone."

And it's true too... Only just 13 at the time, Mags hid for most of her Games and made it to the final three. The other two – hulking great boys from 1 and 2 – had fought it out and injured each other so badly, they'd both died of their injuries before finding Mags.

I rest my head on her shoulder, overwhelmed with gratitude to whomever it was up there that decided I was allowed to have her in my life.

"Thanks Mags." I whisper, closing my eyes. "Thank you."


...


As always, thanks for reading and be sure to let me know what you think! x