Author's Note: Welcome to chapter 4! Thanks go to my reviewers! Amber, KL10X, Wild and JB

Like I had said when this story started its coinciding with parts of Roads Home and Sparrow's Song. And it ends with Sparrow's Song I don't think have to say why….

With that. Onwards!

Chapter 4

Putting on a show

"Seneca you look fine" Vesta sighs comically. I know she is trying to lift my spirits, but I can't.

Not now. A few weeks and my little sister would have been seventeen. I can't escape her. In my dreams she is lying in a pool of blood and dragged off to some cave or hut. Or she is crying for help but is too far for anyone to hear her. She cries for me, she calls me by name, reaching out a blood soaked hand. Pleading for me to save her. Not to leave her.

Looking fine is all I can do right now.

President Snow had pretty much told me I am obligated to do this interview. To show people her own brother is moving on. The unrest is palpable depending on where you go. Some are putting candles in their windows tonight in her honour.

Some have set up a memorial in the lobby of tribute tower.

I can't even face that place. I have my shutters closed to that sight.

I can't face the victor's. Some are in the audience tonight. What do they expect from me? To cry? To slander her?

That's what Snow wants. He made that very clear. I was not to go into depth about her. Skirt the issue, avoid at all cost talking about how a completely innocent sixteen year old is dead.

"How can I avoid talking about her?" I mutter, Vesta catches it, I damn her hearing. She can hear a pin drop a mile away sometimes. She gets my coat and helps me with it.

"Remember what we went over. Talk about it like a game, who to bet on, why and all that. If she comes up diffuse it, Caesar will probably want to talk about her. You can call her special but don't start raving about how it was unjust, it will just get people roused again" she straightens my tie, "we can talk about her as much as you want after okay? Away from the cameras"

"Why does snow hate her? Even in death she still seems to annoy him" I can't help but allow a small smirk. My sister could annoy a priest to tears sometimes with her razor tongue.

"He just doesn't like anyone questioning his decisions I guess" Vesta shrugs, "I mean he's been president for a long time, you have to be used to getting your own way"

"Or just paranoid" I counter and she hisses me to shush like an angry copperhead.

"Seneca!" she gives me a warning look and her eyes dart around.

Right, no slandering the president unless we are outside manufactured walls. I take one last look in the mirror willing my brain to be reasonable, to be fair to myself.

But I look at my reflection and the only thing left of who I feel I really am is the eyes I share with my family. My heart breaks again, the thought that these eyes belong to just me now, my sister's will never re-open.

"I can't do this" I say to my reflection

"Yes you can" Vesta comes beside me and takes my hand, "you can Seneca and you will, I know your sister will understand that you have to do this"

"I hope so" I mutter

We get to the theater and after Brutus comes off the stage with Tracker, both shouldering me as they go by, I step onto the stage and wave to the throngs of screaming fans.

Capitol fans.

Some have my style of beard. Others have it painted on. Some had found out what I was wearing and have copied it to some fashion.

"Seneca Crane" Caesar smiles as we settle down, "First year as Game maker how do you feel taking over for Claymore?"

I shrug, "to be honest Caesar it's a challenge" I smile, I try but it doesn't work its way any higher, "to run the games to his standard will be my greatest feat"

We banter about this and that, how to bet, then he brings up the tributes, I say exactly what Snow told me to say. Bet on the careers.

Then he does the thing I wish he wouldn't have…he brings up Ariana

"We have to bring up even if it's not for a week or two, Ariana would be-"

"Seventeen in a couple weeks" I reply shortly, how could he possibly think I could keep composure, Caesar nods solemly, like he held her when she was seven worried about loosing him to the games, that she was the one begging him to stay home safe from the capitol.

"And yet you wouldn't bet on Stephy Kesington of four? She seems to have the energy of how Ariana was in her games" Flickerman points out. Stephy? Sorry but that kid looked scared to death being reaped, she would probably wet herself in the arena.

"Ariana was special, and I knew her better than most, not well enough to know she would have died so young though…she had a spark of life and I just don't see it in Stephy" I reply, and I mean every word, Ari I wish you could hear me, I wish you knew how much I miss you even now, especially now, "you have to be something really special to win so young Caesar, and something that special doesn't come around that often, look at Finnick" I try and dissuade talk of my sister, but Caesar will have none of it.

"If you could talk to Ariana now, tell her something anything what would it be?" Caesar asks, "do you think she'd be proud of you?"

I look at Caesar, shoving all my hurt down into the pit of my stomach willing my face to be cold and clinical again, "I think we ran out of time" I finally say, I get up and walk off stage. The crowd calls for me but I can't.

No Ariana would not be proud of me, she would hate me.

She would tell me that I have been corrupted just by the style I am in now.