Disclaimer: I do not own the Hunger Games. Suzanne Collins does.


Victory Tour: The Capitol

Suffra

The Capitol rose into view again, looking no less amazing than it had done the first time. This time it was not just a mere tribute train. There were crowds there, waiting, screaming and cheering, and Baba insisted that Suffra did her hair and put on some more makeup as she couldn't possibly be wearing a slightly smeared version of what she had worn in District 1.

"Close your eyes," Baba said, washing the makeup off and replacing it with almost identical makeup. "You know, you are just going to love the party tonight. And…" She gasped in happiness again. "Finnick will probably be there. I'm so embarrassed. Can you please introduce me properly?"

"Maybe if you are good," Suffra said tensely. The districts were over. At least she would not have to be faced with faces. Not on the screens. Only Stitch's family left. Stitch who she abandoned, and even though neither of them had decided to be allies he was still her district partner. Maybe it would be better when it was over. Was it fair if she tried to forget?

"Great!" she squeaked. "They're going to love you. You always seem so much happier when you are in the Capitol!" Suffra froze, until she noticed the parts of her Baba saw. She'd seen her being depressed and breaking down in the districts, then looking worn down, which meant unhappy, on her own. In the Capitol she was all fake smiles, and Baba was not able to tell that they were fake.

"I guess," Suffra said, lacking anything else to say.

"Whatever they say, don't react. Whatever the Capitolians say you have to act politely," Cecelia said. "Don't do anything at all that can be seen as rebellious. I told you in the districts, but this time it is even more important. President Snow will be watching you closely."

"I'm sorry I didn't listen. I just had to say some of those things," Suffra said. She definitely felt the same way as most of the people in District 8, the hate inside her was strong enough to diminish the fear. There was only so long she could run and hide. It was time to be strong. 'Strong' would be so much easier if… well, there were a lot of ifs.

"Don't you know how President Snow keeps people in line?" Cecelia asked. "By punishing their loved ones." Suffra had felt sick about it all the time, ever since she had won the Games. It was something she had not been able to pinpoint and tears sprung to her eyes. "Do you know what happened to Haymitch from 12? To Brooke? To Blight and…"

"Please stop," Suffra shrieked. "I won't do anything. Please, just stop." Cecelia looked grim, like there was even more she was not telling her, and Suffra turned around quickly. She did not want to know anymore.

The cheers were louder outside, and Suffra chose shoes which were almost flat before heading outside. She fake smiled, walking out in front of Baba, Cecelia and Woof. The reporters were screaming her name, and she waved at him.

"I'm glad to be back," Suffra lied. "It seems to have got even more wonderful since the last time I was here."

Did the Victors ever start enjoying the Capitol? Or did they have to act for all the years they returned, hating it more every time? Surely some of the Career districts loved being here, especially those from 1 who sometimes volunteered 'simply to see the Capitol'. However those rarely made the return journey alive.


Ciliar still did not like her much. Despite the fact that she was a Victor now, he moaned about the way she looked and told her that she really ought to wear higher heels. Apparently, many of his designs required ten inch heels to look brilliant on her, and she could barely walk in heels half that size.

"Now, without further ado, Suffra Hadley the reigning Victor!" Caesar Flickerman called. It was not like after the Hunger Games. They were in more of a relaxed setting, with only a few thousand people there. He had obviously tried to make it as homely as he possibly could.

"Nice to see you again, Caesar," she lied. "I'm glad to be back to the Capitol." She was glad that the districts were over. Her reactions had not been the most stable like those of a good Victor should be.

"You did not enjoy the districts much, did you?" Caesar asked. Suffra sighed.

"They simply do not compare," Suffra said. The questions continued, about her life in her district and her talent. Time passed quickly, and then it was time to go to the party. She found fear filling her whole body as she thought about President Snow. Gerome Parlamere, the man who had been the Head Gamemaker since the 61st Hunger Games, would also be there. She did not look forward to meeting the two men who had designed the arena which almost killed her on several occasions and claimed the lives of many others.

She felt like she was completely going to go into a panic attack when she walked in, trying to keep her head held high. Only Baba walked beside her, completely oblivious to what was happening and smiling widely as they approached the mansion. Everything was in dozens of bright colours, not excluding the Capitolians themselves who seemed to have bought wigs of every colour to match their similar but not quite identical outfits. As soon as they saw her they cheered and screamed. Some of them wanted autographs. They showed her the rings they were now sporting, as if they were married and not likely to pick up a random stranger that night, taken from her own district token.

"I always wanted you to win," one woman told her, but only to get shushed by her friend.

"No you didn't; you were supporting the guy from 7," her friend hissed, as if they thought Suffra could not hear them. Suffra welcomed their distraction, even though they were against her. She would happily have all the Capitolians hate her rather than celebrate her. After over a week of having to see the dead tributes, she sometimes found herself wishing that it had been Walton too.

"Thanks for your support," Suffra simply said. It was a good thing Capitolians did not understand sarcasm. They probably just thought it was part of her accent, which surely sounded as weird to them as theirs did to her.

"Oh Suffra, you really must meet some of my friends," Baba trilled. "They'll be so pleased with me. I've finally got a Victor." Suffra really did not like Baba, and for a long moment felt only hate for her. Then the fake uncomfortable smile was up as she let Baba lead her by the hand into the main part of the mansion.

"Hi," Suffra said weakly as Baba made them stop in front of masses of women crowding around a deserts table, despite the fact that they would not have had appetisers yet. They were having a heated discussion about how many deserts they could have before the calories counteracted the 'emptying juice' as it would be the worst thing in the world if they went up a dress size. Baba started introducing them, telling of their ambitions to be stylists and become part of the Hunger Games experience. Suffra had to ask. "Have you even been to any of the arenas?"

"Well, when I was a little girl my father took me to a re-enactment of the 50th Hunger Games. That arena was so pretty. Too bad I wasn't allowed to touch anything," one woman said, looking slightly disappointed. "I loved that arena."

Suffra looked back at Baba, who actually nodded along to what her friend was saying. "I heard that one was great, but it was ages ago. I got a Victor this year." She sounded like a broken record when bragging to her Capitolian friends.

"I wouldn't have bet on that happening anytime soon. The only person I guessed we wouldn't ever meet with a Victor is Effie Trinket. They aren't going to get a Victor for another thirty years or so, if tradition is anything to be believed," a man with a wig that was around three feet high said. As if tradition was the reason District 12 didn't win.

"You volunteered, didn't you?" a woman with pink skin and purple eyes said. "It's so great District 8 is finally getting into the spirit of the Hunger Games. Should we be expecting a volunteer next year?"

"No," Suffra said, trying to keep it simple again. "I mean… I volunteered, but I don't think many people are going to."

Half the Capitolians looked disappointed, then started talking about their favourite events of the last Hunger Games. Although she was a Victor and was probably expected to join in, she drifted backwards away from them until she almost fell into somebody else.

"Sorry," she mumbled.

"So we meet again, my sweet," Finnick's seductive purr filled her ears and she spun around, almost falling on top of him. He gave the Capitolians a side-long glance. "You look stressed. Want to have a bit of fun?"

"W-what kind of fun?" she asked. "I'm not going to… do anything… with you, if that's what you mean." An amused expression crossed Finnick's face, and he moved very close next to her that it would be almost easier if they were holding hands.

"Well, nowhere in this mansion is completely private and you seem like the type of girl who wants her privacy," Finnick said, which Suffra somehow took to mean as talking about something meaningful instead of the sexual innuendo Finnick implied. Finnick looked at the Capitolians again. "How many of those Capitolians do you think will react like that escort of yours? They seem like the type."

"Finnick," Suffra said. She couldn't help herself as she started laughing. "You can't break up a party by making all the guests faint." A look of false disappointment crossed Finnick's face.

"It's not my fault they find me irresistible," he said, emphasizing the last word. This time he really did link his arm through hers, and pulled her away from the congregation of Capitolians. "Do you want to dance? They'll love it."

"Doesn't the great Finnick Odair have better things to do than waste time with me?" Suffra asked, trying to get the same tone he had on but honestly curious. She had no idea why he was acting this way. Whatever she really wanted to ask him, now was not the time, and she actually rather disliked him when he was like this. But whenever she saw him he was like this.

Finnick looked at his watch. "Not for another ten minutes."

"Romantic," Suffra commented sarcastically. "Wouldn't your girlfriend be disappointed that you are dancing with another girl?" Not that he had ever been with the same girl twice.

"She knows what the deal is," Finnick simply said, pulling her to the dance floor. "You don't mind people talking about you even more than they already are, do you?" Suffra tried to pull away again but found that Finnick still held her, twirling her around slowly.

"I wish they wouldn't talk about me at all," Suffra said honestly, not sure quite where to look and settled for anywhere except Finnick's eyes or something which would falsely suggest that she wanted him. She didn't. Quickly she cast her eyes away, finding that many Capitolians were looking at her jealously. She could even sense some cameras on her, although she was not sure whether it was being broadcast to all of Panem or just taking pictures for some private TV or gossip magazines in the Capitol.

She pulled away from him but he followed close behind her, directing her towards some the tables laden with food closer to where the Victors were congregated rather than the Capitolians. Finnick looked at his watch once more, and Suffra sighed.

"Can't wait to leave me?" she asked, and Finnick glared at her although his smile did not drop.

"When it comes down to it, you aren't the least pleasant of company," he said, but left her anyway and she glared after him. Then she helped herself to some of the food as she did not want to speak to any of the Victors. The District 8 tributes did not frequently have many allies, so there did not seem to be a good place to start. Whenever she got close to them, she kept picturing their Games and how easy it probably was for them to kill her. It seemed a bit judgemental especially as she was equally as bad as them, being untrustworthy and despicable and deadly, but that did not mean she could trust them. She only trusted Cecelia, and for some strange reason she did not know Finnick, to get overly close to her.

She really had no idea why she let Finnick get so close to her. She had no idea how Finnick somehow managed to make her laugh or at least make her less depressed. How did he do that?

The only other thing she noticed was that it was only the younger Victors that were there. Apart from the mentors of the Victor, those present all looked under thirty. That meant that they were mostly from the Career districts where they had more recent Victors. The man from District 10 who had won the 60th Hunger Games was also there, but apart from Cecelia he seemed to be the only one who wasn't a Career. For some reason Axanne was not present. Perhaps the Capitol did not like District 6.

"Oh good, there you are," Cecelia said, standing close to her. "Finnick should have brought you to me."

"I think I'll be fine if I'm left alone for a few minutes," Suffra said, but her mind still whirled. The music was incredibly loud and her thoughts were in about five places at once. It was only vaguely that she considered Finnick, and how he acted around her. What did he want with her? How did he know Mimi? Mostly it was the Capitol. Some of the Capitolians were complaining that there was too little food, even though food seemed to deck every table for hundreds of metres each way. Others were moaning that it was too hard to find their favourite dish. Then they talked about the Hunger Games like it was the best event ever, even those who moaned that they had sponsored the wrong tribute so those poorer districts owed them. One man bragged about his utter kindness to children because he had sponsored the twelve year old, which had the expected effect as he got a woman to follow him to another room.

"When you are left alone you stand around as if you are lost," Cecelia stated. Suffra shrugged, looking back at the other Victors who were all talking amongst themselves, forming tight groups like they were allies against the Capitol. Perhaps they were even friends, but Suffra wondered how the murderers could trust each other.

"I don't know where to go," Suffra admitted. Ideally somewhere with as few Capitolians as possible. "How long is this party on for?"

"It stops at about noon tomorrow," Cecelia said, and Suffra sighed. For the first time she ate a bit of the food, then moved along the table and helped herself to as much as possible. While she did not deserve it, the Capitolians were at least as bad. Right? At least Iva was having a feast for the poor in District 8 when she returned. At least the districts were over.

She felt a little bit of relief at that.

"May I borrow Miss Hadley for a second?" a man who was clearly Capitolian asked Cecelia, as if Suffra wasn't there. Something to do with the authority in his tone made her flinch, but Suffra nodded and went with him as she doubted she had a choice.

"Certainly, Mr Parlamere," Cecelia said softly, and he walked Suffra down the halls up the main staircase.

"You are such a pretty girl, you know," Parlamere said, not changing his tone. "They'll love you more than they would have loved Parm or Phanes, certainly." Suffra could not interpret his words as she stepped up the stairs slowly.

"W-what would you like with me?" she asked.

"President Snow would like to talk to you," Parlamere said, unchanging. "Ideally, what I would want is not regretting giving you a little bit of running space with that fire in the finale. Yet I'm sure he will find a use for you." He licked his lips, like he wanted to eat her up.

Gerome Parlamere, like most of the Capitolians, was the epitome of excess. His hair was jewel encrusted to such an extent that the original hair was not visible beneath it; so many gems that it would take District 1 half a year to produce all of them. His hair was not the only place he had the gems. He wore dozens of thick solid gold pieces of jewellery, so much so that he must have been strong simply to walk. His robes were completely made out of silk, cashmere and velvet, deep shades of purple and pink.

Even by Capitolian standards he was rich; being a Head Gamemaker probably helped. They had not grown tired of his arenas yet, even after eight years, which was the second-longest a Head Gamemaker had ever lasted.

Parlamere knocked on one of the grand doors.

"Ah Gerome, I'm pleased that you have found the Victor in question. And it only took five minutes. Well done," President Snow said in way of answer. "Come in Miss Hadley. I think this will be easier if we don't lie to each other." Suffra walked in stiffly, dread filling her.

"What's the problem, president?" she asked, trying hard to be formal but unsure whether her tone was slightly off. Luckily there was no fear there.

He flicked his fingers and a holographic screen rose. Scenes from the Victory Tour played, and Suffra saw herself apologizing for the arena and then speaking out occasionally how they should not have had to die.

"Do you see the problem, Miss Hadley?" President Snow asked, testing her. Suffra saw it, just slightly, although in her desperation she had not seen it before.

"I'm meant to be the killer, aren't I? The Victor. I'm not meant to be sorry," Suffra said. Snow waited for her to continue. So there was more. "I meant no disrespect."

"And I told you not to lie," Snow commented. "You meant every word you spoke which was not scripted out to you. Something you seem to share with the rest of your district, I presume." Suffra doubted President Snow had to presume much at all.

"I've got nothing to do with that," Suffra said.

"You should hope not. You are a Victor now, and Victors belong to the Capitol," President Snow said, his words sounding incredibly creepy. He was threatening her, and she felt incredibly sick. "If people in the districts think you are on their side, it will not end well for either of you. Do you understand?"

The next screen change displayed the scene of the strike. Suffra saw herself on the screen. She was standing there, looking completely shocked, then running. Absently she looked at the scar on her palm which panged when she thought about it. Snow smiled coldly when he saw her reaction. She clenched her fist to prevent her hands from shaking.

"What do you want?" she asked outright.

"Glad you asked," Snow said, like he enjoyed the opportunity to hurt her more. He motioned to the screens with her working at the factories. "Victors are designed to give hope, Miss Hadley, and surely you must know how fleeting that is. You aren't there to symbolise unity between the classes; much the opposite."

She was no longer allowed to work at the factories. It was no longer just a suggestion or a guideline; he was promising something horrible to her or her family if she did not comply.

"You will be spending a lot of time in the Capitol from now on," President Snow said, finishing the conversation there. "There are many people who feel like you owe them personally for the gifts they sent you as sponsors." What did that mean? The way he said it was enough to make her totally terrified. Her whole body was shaking and there was nothing she could do to stop it now. She felt like she was going to throw up, and he smiled coldly.

"It would be an awful shame if your sister got a bullet through her temple because of some you did wrong. You really ought to actively discourage her doing anything as well," Snow threatened when she was escorted out by an Avox. She felt completely sick. Her legs gave out from under her and this time she really did vomit onto the carpet. The Avoxes rushed off to start finding something to clean it up as she started sobbing, pushing herself along just enough so that she was not directly outside Snow's office.

The carpet was soft under her hands as she crawled, not managing to find the energy to stand. But she had to. She had to keep up appearances. That part was implied. If she seemed like she was falling apart, Snow would probably enjoy it. It was enough of a reason to pull herself together, but Iva had a direct threat hanging over her now. What could be seen as doing something wrong?

She tried to get up, but everything felt so heavy. It was like she was carrying the world on her shoulders and it was crushing her. Finally she pulled herself up and staggered, everything blurry through the tears.

You've got to pull yourself together, a voice at the back of her head said, loud and insistent. She wiped her eyes, makeup coming off on her hands. Biting her lip, she forced herself to stop crying, taking five minutes before she headed back down the stairs again. Like the time just after she had come out of the arena, she felt like she was being herded in the direction of cameras again. The doors were locked and she did not test them, simply going back in the direction she had come from. The people were easy to find as they were incredibly noisy. Suffra grabbed some alcohol from one of the tables closest to her, dipping her head down so that people weren't looking her way.

Quickly she drank from one of the glasses, then another. Nothing happened so she downed a third glass, not knowing whether she was meant to be feeling anything. Her hands still shook but she started feeling slightly strange and wobbly.

At some point, a Capitolian spoke to her, asking her if she was okay.

"Yeah, fine," she said with a smile, just seeing flashes of their crazy colours and massive wigs. "I just got something in my eye… and I like the way I did this with the mascara." A total lie that nobody in their right minds would buy but they just ate up. She would not be surprised if having smeared mascara would become the new fashion.

She wobbled slightly in her heels as she walked, her head spinning, cursing her own weakness. She needed to be in complete control of herself, and she could not do things like that to take away the pain. Turning her hand around again, she saw the scar again. She was hurting other people far more than she was hurting herself.

Snow owned her. The Capitol owned her. She vowed to herself that with her last shreds of strength she would attempt to prevent Iva from knowing that. None of them should. She could not subject Iva to the same pain she was surely going to be in.

Maybe it was the alcohol, but along with the desperation of everything getting worse the thought remained that maybe everything would get better. After all, she would be going home at the end of the day. As long as she did what Snow said it would always be there to greet her.

Yes, she would try and diffuse the tension, because then she would still have her family. If the last months had proven anything it was that her family would stick by her, even if she was a killer, she could at least protect them the only way she could.

I will no longer hurt them, she promised herself. She needed them. The rest of the night passed in an alcohol-induced blur.


A/N: Please leave reviews to tell me what you think. There will be a few more chapters back in District 8 including the next one where she will be reunited with her family. The Reapings will be coming shortly after, where Suffra has to mentor the District 8 tributes. The Hunger Games themselves will be written in multiple perspectives, from the tributes and the Victors.

Until next time. Like I said, please review, follow and favourite. :)