Haven't written much of anything in a while, so this isn't going to be the best, unfortunately. Please excuse the update that said I had published a new chapter. It was an interlude dedicated to Phillip Seymour Hoffman, but it was so rushed and awful I took it down. I may post a new one.
I'm trying to get back into the swing of things with this story, as I often lose faith with whatever I'm writing (hence my 100 unfinished novels). So please buckle up and get through this bump in the road with me :3
People of the Capitol don't know. It's not their fault that they don't, but it still takes any positive thought I have for them and punctures it with resentment. They sit idly by as we die, whether it be of starvation, illness, or being thrown into an arena and speared in the chest. Venia, Flavius, and Octavia are among those people, the ones who sipped cocktails while Clove held a knife to my throat. Maybe it's unfair to think of them in such a way, but once you've been in the Games, let alone twice, you have no sympathy for the Capitol whatsoever. Effie's the exception, mostly because she's Effie, but also because the man she loves is buried under a pile of rubble. Pain is now a word in her vocabulary, unlike her former neighbors.
Despite all of this, however, I run to greet my prep team as they walk in. It's the familiarity that draws me to them, the fact that I've known them longer than I've known Finnick, and that they once stood with Cinna as they all told me I looked beautiful. They're not bad people, either, something my deep-rooted hatred will allow me to admit. "Oh, sweetie, your eyebrows!" Octavia cries, cupping my face with both hands to gawk at something I couldn't care less about.
I laugh and do the same with her, scarred hands on green cheeks. "I'm just not as beautiful as you, I'm afraid," I tell her, to which she giggles and uncharacteristically pulls me into a hug. Venia and Flavius do the same, and for a moment I forget that I'm amongst Capitol citizens, and instead feel as though I'm with old friends. Finnick comes downstairs to introduce himself, except there's no point in doing so. Venia and Octavia are already squealing at his presence ("Oh, we know who you are!"). Finnick Odair is, after all, standing right in front of them.
Effie's appearance is met only with astounded gasps. Finnick and I have already gotten used to her minimalist look, especially since we favor it over her previous ensemble. She furrows her brow at their shell-shocked expressions, almost daring them to say something critical. But they love it, they love her. All three rush toward her, bombarding her with a jumble of compliments. "Maybe I should do away with the wig as well?" Venia speculates as she runs her fingers through Effie's hair, admiring the soft texture. While she tries to hide it, I can tell Effie is adoring the attention, or is at least relieved that they approve of her. "Now, now, remember why we're all here!" she finally reminds them.
"Oh yes!" Flavius affirms, whisking over to Finnick. "On the way here, I conjured up the best look for this fine man here!" He forcefully rotates him toward the rest of my team. "I'm thinking sea green, yes?" They nod enthusiastically. "Like his eyes!" Octavia points out. "Exactly! Perhaps a streak of it through the hair?" he suggests. I chuckle at Finnick, who clearly isn't liking the idea. "Whatever it takes to hide who we are," he says grimly to Flavius, who is now giddy with the prospect.
"As for Katniss," Venia interrupts, "Octavia and I think black is her color. Do you not remember the parade for the Quell, Katniss?" she exclaims as I grimace. You looked stunning! Cinna's best work, I'd say." Her lack of hesitation to mention his name takes me aback, a pristine image of him still resting in my head: gold eyeliner, gentle curve of a smile that assured me I would live to see another day. A bit of that resentment crept back into me, for yet another Capitol citizen treated death as an unfortunate mishap. But this time, I push it to the back of my mind, refusing to let it bother me. There is work to be done.
It's late when I realize he's not in bed. Pulled out of yet another nightmare, I reach instinctively towards him, only to be met with disappointment as my fingers ghost over empty sheets. "Finnick?" For a foolish second I think he's run away, then remember this is the strongest man I've ever known. Sliding sleepily out of bed, I fumble in the darkness for the doorknob, praying over and over again that he's just downstairs. I've lost too much to lose Finnick, deeming him one of the most important things in my life. Maybe it could be called an obsession, but I would just call it needing my lifeline. My anchor.
I stumble down the stairs, quietly calling his name. Venia, Flavius, and Octavia are asleep on the couches, Effie having claimed the only other bedroom besides ours. Admittedly, I had been impressed by how easily they adapted to the new sleeping arrangements. After all, these were people that had grown up with life spoon-feeding them luxury. Trying to listen for a reply over Venia's snores, I feel irrationally panicked as I realize he's not here. Could he have just gone swimming? Fishing? Or was my initial guess right, and he is waiting for the next train? Would he do that, after all of this, after nights of whispering promises to each other we swore to keep? We would always be there, we would never leave. I had meant those words, but did he?
Trust is a word that feels strange on my lips, something I can't fully wrap my mind around. Either District 12 does that to you, or Panem as a whole. Independence practically courses through our veins, for we know that no one but ourselves can save us. It's a notion we've been born with, something we're taught the second we see someone starve to death, or become prey to disease, or, worse, Peacekeepers. So it never occurs to you that perhaps you don't have to do it all on your own. But with Finnick, I had strayed from the knowledge I taught myself, and believed that I could survive as long as I had him. I trusted him to keep my head above water, and I had wanted to think he trusted me the same way. Yet what if I had been right all along, and you couldn't trust people? At the end of the day, you will be your own savior, but surely the logic was flawed, surely Finnick, of all people, could be trusted? My answer lies in the fact that I am standing here, dumbfounded and feeling abandoned.
The beach.
Of course! Not even bothering with the nuisance that shoes had become, I rush out the back door, careful not to slam it. My feet practically take themselves to our secret place, as if I've trained them over the past few weeks to feel the sand between my toes and know where I am going. Already, this path holds meaning; it's where Finnick and I have walked together, a union that Snow has not managed to break apart. We've traveled to this craggy shore and we've tucked our secrets inside it, much like Finnick does with his customers'. Because while Finnick's house serves as protection, it's still the result of twenty-three people dying. The beach, however, has not been corrupted by the Capitol or the poison it lets seep throughout the county. Every district, even 1 and 2, has felt some part of it, a thorn in the side.
He's there, his back to me, staring out at the thin black line of the horizon that will eventually spring to life with the rise of the sun. The sound of my breathing and my feet kicking up sand get his attention, and he turns to face me as I rush toward him.
"Katniss?"
"FINNICK!"
I'm almost screaming, but it's the last thing on my mind. What matters to me is that he's here, he's still with me, and that trusting him is something I am truly capable of. All the proof I need is the warmth of his skin as I throw out my arms and practically wind myself around him. I touch his hair, the night having made it a muted gold. "I woke up, a-and you weren't there," I stammer, my eyelashes brushing his neck as I look up at him. "For a second, I thought you'd...gone." He just gazes down at me and takes my face in his hand, the way he always does. "You thought I would leave you?" It's moments like these that I find it remarkable I have not yet fallen in love with Finnick Odair. Love, just like trust, is still unfamiliar, still an acquaintance. "I think I did, but then I also...didn't." All he answers with is a small smile that makes me gently reach for his cheek. Passerby would take it as a romantic embrace, but there's no one here, no one to judge or make assumptions. Regardless, those people would never know the fact that he is simply the greatest person I know, not that there's ever been much competition.
Like we always do, we sit and watch the waves, sometimes so captured by its movement you'd think we'd never seen waves before. Tonight, they put us in no such trance, and instead we look at them rather worriedly. Often times, the crashing and foaming of the water serves as something therapeutic, but nothing can take away the question on our minds.
"Do you think this is going to work?" I finally mumble. For once, Finnick doesn't have the answer I want. "I don't know." Slightly agitated, I lay down, not caring if sand gets in my hair. Much to my relief, he joins me. Ever since we've been together, I hate doing almost anything alone. As usual, our hands join at some point. I swear we have a routine.
"I just don't want them to cut my hair," I blurt out, and he laughs whole-heartedly. "I don't want them to dye my hair green!" he points out. "Sea green," I correct, and this time our laughter blends together.
"Katniss, it's just a few inches." I'm gripping both sides of the chair, staring defiantly at Venia, who is holding scissors almost threateningly. It wouldn't be that big of a deal if it weren't for my braid, the final thing that proves my mother once existed. I had tried explaining this to my prep team, but they had all agreed with each other that a haircut was in order. Luckily, they had been kind enough to limit themselves to a shoulder-length cut. But I knew that inside, all three were craving to hack off most of my hair, which had already been dyed jet black. "Fine," I finally surrender through gritted teeth. The first snipping sounds make me cringe, but I distract myself with the amusing sight across the room: Finnick rolling his eyes as Flavius dabs hair dye through the side of his head while continuously wailing about how just how amazing he's going to look.
Octavia and Effie, who had been quietly conversing on the couch, are now rambling on and on about mine and Finnick's identities, actually thinking that we're able to understand them. What I'm able to pick out from their random tangents is that Finnick and I will be posing as an engaged couple, similar to, I remember with a cringe, mine and Peeta's situation. Except I am no longer Katniss Everdeen, a victor of the Hunger Games, nor is Finnick. Now, I am Septima Cronin, an interior designer, and my fiance is Alto Sterling, who works in real estate. Our fake scenario makes both of us chuckle, simply because it's something only Octavia and Effie could conjure up.
"We're going to be getting on the train this afternoon, and we'll arrive in the Capitol sometime this evening," Effie goes on. "You and Finnick will be staying in my apartment, as I'll be rooming with Octavia. Venia has been smart enough to keep up to date on upcoming events, and it turns out her cousin Ashby is throwing a birthday bash for her best friend Briar, who just so happens to be married to one of the Gamemakers! So she's RSVP'd and informed Ashby that she will be bringing two new friends of hers. That's where you two come in." Effie's sounding like Effie again, and it seems so strange to match her way of speaking with her new appearance, almost like if Snow had the voice of Flavius. She continues to spew information that we'll surely forget, and at one point, Finnick and I stop listening.
Especially when we hear the gunfire.
Okay, so at this point, I was all about just trying to get through this. I have just not been writing lately and I feel horrible about that, so eventually I'll be writing like I normally do. I know it's rushed, and just not that good overall, but next chapter will be much more satisfying. I'm pretty sure I say that at the end of every chapter. :p But I mean it this time! Thank you all for being so sweet, I'm really truly shocked.