As I hear the waves crash onto the beach I try to focus on my toes, which are slowly disappearing into the sand. Once my toes are invisible, I dig my fingers into the sand as well. It's my way of 'getting used to the sea', as Finnick would say. I really want to try, because I made the choice to be here. I made the choice to never leave this place. I made the choice to not abandon my best friend and now I'll have to get used to it. And slowly I am getting used to it. Yesterday it was impossible to stay in this spot for longer than five minutes, but now I can manage. The water is at least ten meters away, I keep telling myself as a way of comfort.

"Haven't seen you in a while," an oddly familiar voice says.

"Missed me?" I smile weakly up at Tyree, who is casting a shadow over my face. "You're in my sun."

He smirks. "Didn't take you for the tanning type."

"Yeah, well, I'm bored." I shrug.

"Then maybe you should get off your ass and do something, instead of just sitting here, doing nothing," he suggests while motioning for me to scoot over.

"Says the man who's sitting on his ass as well now, doing nothing."

"Haven't slept last night so excuse me if I'm a bit tired," he yawns.

Laughter escapes my mouth. "Oh how cliché, yawning while saying you're tired."

"Whatever you say, Sunshine."

He closes his eyes and leans back against the big rock we're sitting against. When he opens his eyes again, I'm reminded of the fact that I've been staring at his face way too long.

"What?" he says, not able to keep a grin of his face.

"Nothing," I say quickly. "Why were you up all night?"

He closes his eyes again. "Work. Takes up a lot of your time."

I push my eyebrows together in confusion. "I thought you were a fisherman?"

"I am. It's not just catching fish, though. I can't just sell them like that. I mean, you can but I prefer to clean them before I sell them."

"Oh."

We sit together in silence for a long time and as much as I want to go back home, I don't. My pride is keeping me from getting up. I am not going to admit that I'm still afraid of water, even after having lived in district 4 for at least a month and a half, and especially not to a man who looks like he's afraid of nothing and nobody. And the big scar across his chest is telling me just that.

"You know," he suddenly says, causing me to jump since I thought he had fallen asleep, "I could always use some help on the boat. And since you're so bored, that shouldn't be a problem, right?"

He opens only one eye to gauge my reaction, which is disappointing for him actually. I'm at a loss for words, partly because no one has ever asked for my help before and partly because it's working on a boat. A boat, that sails the seas. Water. No way.

I clear my throat before answering. "No thank you, I'll find something else to keep me busy."

He exhales slowly. "What? You don't want to work with me? Am I less because I'm not a tribute or one of you fancy Victors?"

"This has nothing to do with you," I sigh. "Besides, you really do have something against the Victors, don't you?"

I turn my gaze away from the sea to look at him.

"It was a joke, actually. And I don't have anything against the Victors, I have something against what turned you into this."

"This," I repeat.

"Yes, this." He pauses for a second, doesn't look at me. "Odair is one of my oldest friends. We weren't always close but we knew each other. When he came back, when he won his Games, he wasn't the same anymore."

I turn my head back towards the ocean. "None of us are."

"That's what I mean with 'this'. You lost yourself by winning."

"No," I interrupt him fiercely. "We may have changed but we didn't lose ourselves. Who we, Victors, are now may be not who we thought we'd be, but we are still ourselves. Just with another experience of life."

He doesn't say he agrees with me but he doesn't disagree either. In fact, silence is all I get, which is quite frustrating. But what is there to say to that? Nothing really. It's just how it is.

"To get back to the original subject," Tyree eventually says, "the offer still stands."

"Offer?"

"You know," he gestures towards the ocean, "helping me out at sea a bit."

"Oh, that offer." I lower my eyes, trying to fixate on my toes that are now visible again. "I can't."

"You can't, or you won't?"

"Can't."

"Can't," he repeats in a soft voice, which is surprisingly different from his usual deep, manly voice.

"This is the closest I can get to the water without freaking out," I admit. "And if it weren't for you, I'd probably have left a long time ago. I can't do it."

"If it weren't for me," he quotes, again with that devilish grin Finnick also has at times.

"Don't flatter yourself, big boy," I smile.

"But you did just say –"

"Doesn't matter what I said. I can't go on a boat and that's it."

Suddenly, Tyree gets up and brushes the sand off his legs and hands. "Well, if you do decide it's time to get over that ridiculous fear, let me know."

And with that, he turns around and disappears, leaving me all the more confused about whether he is right or not. Maybe my fear is ridiculous, maybe I'm the one making it worse than it really is.

In an impulse, I jump up and follow Tyree.

"Fine!" I shout once I get him in sight again. "Fine, I'm in! But you'll have to help me, because I will lose it at one point. Probably at more than one point. I will lose it a lot."

"Deal," he shouts back, throwing me a thumbs-up.

What the hell have I gotten myself into?