Phew. Finally finished writing this thing. I've been feverishly writing on and off all day trying to get this update out tonight. I'll try and keep this short, then. Thank you to all who reviewed, etc, etc! It's auction time! I hope you enjoy :)
You would think that after being in the public eye for two years straight, I would have gotten used to being on stage; being cheered for. You would think that after all of the acting I've done to convince these people Katniss and I were something they wanted us to be, all while under the watchful eyes of the President of Panem, I'd be used to the pressure.
Maybe it's because the stakes are even higher tonight, or maybe it's because I've been out of it for so long, but right now the spotlight seems so much brighter than before, and so much hotter.
I can see that even Snow is momentarily mesmerized as his eyes tear away from mine and turn towards the audience.
No, not audience. There's another word to describe what these people are. What they are doing here tonight.
They are consumers.
Clientele.
A hush falls over the crowd as they stare at me, their eyes wide with awe. I glance up at a huge screen at my image, and I am stunned.
The light hitting my tuxedo makes it shimmer like scarlet fire, which only adds to the feeling that I have been set ablaze by the glare of the spotlight. My face looks as if it has been carved out of stone. My eyes from ice. I wonder who actually designed this brilliant outfit. It looks like something Portia or Cinna would have come up with. But it's not. Because Portia and the rest of my prep team were publicly slaughtered, and Cinna... Well, I'm not sure how Cinna was killed, but seeing as it was done privately, it must have been awful.
I shudder. The ones who made Katniss and I unforgettable, the creators of the 'girl who was on fire'. Dead.
My name is Peeta Mellark. I was once a son. A brother. A baker. A painter. A friend.
I was once a giver of bread.
The Capitol has turned me into a pawn. A tribute. A lover. A victor. A fiancée. A father. A rebel. A prisoner. A mutt. A monster.
I take a deep breath.
But tonight, I am only what I want myself to me. I am a man. I am strong. I am a fighter. A protector. A hero. A killer. A brilliant actor.
I am Her's. I will forever be her's, and I will be there for her, always.
My name is Peeta Mellark. My back's against the rope. I am about to be sold, and this is my last chance.
The auctioneer grows impatient when she is unable to stifle the murmuring of the crowd. She clears here throat loudly a few times before finally slamming a chrome-plated gavel down on the mahogany podium. That's when I notice her bracelet. Dangling from a thin gold chain is what looks like rows of diamond-studded silver triangular razor blades. They look about the size of half of my thumb.
Even if they aren't actually razor blades, they look sharp enough to puncture flesh.
To kill.
The crowd jumps at the sound and falls silent.
"Now, now, ladies and gentlemen! Let's settle down so we can start the bidding!"
I have a plan.
It may not be a good one, it may not be well thought out, but it's a plan.
I relax my face, putting on my most winning smile as I stride casually over to the podium and pull the microphone to my lips. Peacekeepers stationed around the stage straighten up, eying me warily. If I were to run, they would most definitely by able to stop me.
I do not plan on running.
I turn to the crowd, glancing sideways at Snow, who is glaring at me darkly and muttering furiously under his breath. I smirk at him before turning towards the auctioneer.
"Oh, but miss, don't you want to let the audience here know what else they would be receiving alongside this," I make a sweeping gesture along my torso, "brilliant package?" I lower my forehead to gaze at the audience from under my eyelashes, flash them a seductive grin, and wink. I smile a little inside as well, because I just know that Finnick would think this was a riot.
It works. The crowd goes wild, begging me to continue, multi-colored women of all shapes and sizes are screaming, the ones in the front are fanning themselves as they are overcome with desire. Although he would think it was hilarious, even Finnick would have to admit I was good at this whole seduction thing.
The auctioneer, who is also fanning herself as a deep blush creeps up her neck and face, beckons me to continue as she loops her arm through my own and gazes up at me through fluttering eyelashes.
I unclip the microphone from the podium and snap it onto the lapel of my jacket as I make my way, arm and arm with the auctioneer, to the center of the stage. As we reach the center, I turn to her, away from Snow, and give her a slow kiss on the cheek as I swiftly twist two of the triangular charms off of the bracelet and stuff them into my pocket. I turn back towards the crowd, smiling mischievously as the auctioneer squeals with delight.
"Tonight, the highest bidder will not only receive eternal servitude and pleasure, but will also get to select a private audience of three to accompany you to The President's mansion, where you will bear witness as Katniss Everdeen and I share our final goodbyes." I let my face fall, allowing myself to feel the sadness that I have been suppressing by determination.
The crowd eats it up.
A wave of excitement washes over the crowd as they whisper enthusiastically to one another before bursting into applause. I look over at Snow. His eyes narrow at me suspiciously and his jaw tenses in frustration as his eyes dart between my stony glare and the greedy faces of his constituents. The auctioneer hurries over to Snow for confirmation before retrieving another microphone and returning giddily to my side.
"Now isn't this wonderful! I just wish that I could bid on this fabulous package!" Her hungry eyes linger on me as she rushes back over to the podium. The applause slowly dies down until the room in almost completely silent, save a few sniffles.
And so it begins.
"The bidding will start at 250 million!" and with a slam of her gavel, all hell breaks loose as every single Capitol woman in the crowd, as well as a few men, shoot their gold-plated paddle inlayed with their bidder number in the air. "Alrighty do I have 300 million?" Again, all of the paddles go up.
The price continues to rise, and the amount of bidders starts to dwindle to about twenty or thirty. I try to feel relief that soon, I will be able to get off of this stage and continue on with my plan.
However, my heart begins to race as I peer into the hungry, almost rabid faces of the dwindling group of bidders, who are now starting to fight with one another, pulling at each other's brightly colored hair. My ears start to ring and I can see my pupils dilating on screen.
No, please, not now. Not when I'm so close…
I plead with myself to hold it together. I can't afford being sedated again. They could find the bracelet charms in my pocket and take them away. I might scare away the bidders, and then what? What would become of us then? Would they just kill us? Or would they lock us back up again?
Shiny images of mutts begin to replace each bidder, their deranged cold grey eyes ravenous and their fanged mouths dripping with drool.
I squeeze my eyes shut and turn away from them.
I am Peeta Mellark. I am a man, not a mutt. I am strong. I am a fighter. I am a protector. I am a hero. I am a brilliant actor.
And I am her's. Always.
Forever.
My heartbeat slows. The ringing in my ears stops. I pull it together.
Breathe, Peeta.
I wrench my eyes open, determined. The amount of bidders has dwindled down to three; a short, plump, older woman with bright pink skin inlayed with glittering crystal tattoos and a tower of purple hair, a slightly taller, thinner, golden-skinned woman with no hair at all, and a very tall man with the same pale, glittering skin as the woman in the dungeon, but with a single braid of orange hair going down the top of his head all the way to the floor.
I flash a dazzling smile at all three of them. The plump woman actually swoons, falling backwards into the lap of what could possibly be an elderly woman, or just someone who had undergone too many facial reconstruction surgeries. She lies unconscious as the people around her fan her with their paddles.
The remaining two bidders are staring at me even more greedily and desperately now, both waiting for the other to relent.
The price has hit 600 billion, and by the look on their faces every time a higher price is called out, this would be a big hit on both of their wallets.
I steal a glance at President Snow. His fists are clenched tightly into balls, and a sheen of sweat coats his furrowed brow. He stares up at the flashing numbers on the screen with the same greedy, desperate look that the bidders have.
Just as the auctioneer yells "SOLD! For 900 billion to the woman in gold!" it clicks.
The desperation and hunger does not leave his face as he continues to stare at the blinking numbers. He wanted more. He needed more.
Because, like me, he also sees tonight as his last chance.
But his last chance to do what? To get rid of us? To end the rebellion? I'm not even sure the rebellion even still exists, let alone if it's strong enough to cause this sort of reaction from Snow.
There's still hope in his eyes, though, because he still has one more item on the auction block that's guaranteed to get him just as much if not more money than I did: Katniss Everdeen.
The Mockingjay.
He mutters something to a Peacekeeper to his right, who disappears backstage, before walking over to the podium and ushering the auctioneer aside.
"Ah, thank you, thank you, my most loyal citizens of the Capital. I would like to extend my congratulations to Miss Enya Pellifer on her purchase of this most excellent prize package!" The crowd claps dutifully as the bald gold woman Looks haughtily down at them from her new seat on stage next to Snows currently empty one.
The peacekeeper re-emerges from backstage carrying a black leather armchair, which he places off to the side of the stage on the opposite stage of the podium. He then walks over to me and pulls me down into the chair, which has been installed with restraints, and straps me in. But not before I am able to take the charms out of my jacket pocket. I hold them tightly in my fist, careful not to cut my hand.
They're going to make me watch her be sold.
"Now, before we bring out the next item, I would also like to clarify that the same 'package' our dear Peeta Mellark reminded us of earlier will also be made available to the winning bidder," He explains through clenched teeth. He hands the podium back to the auctioneer and returns to his seat beside the gold woman, who has been staring me down ever since she took her seat. I refuse to meet her gaze. My eyes stay trained on Snow. He obviously wasn't too against my impromptu addition, or else he would have revoked it. No, the old Snow would have revoked it no matter what he thought about it solely because it was my idea, which means I'm obviously up to something. But this Snow, he's desperate, selfish. Angry.
Sacred.
He could care less about anything I've planned. The only thing on his mind now is money, and lots of it.
"Alrighty then! Ladies and Gentlemen! You may know the next item on our list as the symbol of the latest rebellion against our dear city! But before that, you would have seen her as Katniss Everdeen! The Girl On Fire!"
As Katniss rises up out of the floor, the crowd goes absolutely wild. My heartbeat thunders in my chest as it always has when she enters a room. She is beautiful. Snow apparently decided to keep her Mockingjay suit after we were captured, because she's wearing it now. Her slight, yet curvy silhouette against the spotlight suggests that her stylists had to add some padding here and there to make sure the suite still fit. However, instead of her usual braid, her hair falls in thick, soft waves around her stony face. Her preps have done their best to cover up her scar, however I can still make out a faint line stretching from her lips to her cloudy, unseeing eye. By the semi-disgusted looks on some of the Capitol citizens faces, they must think it unsightly.
Personally, I think she looks flawless.
Looking at her in that suit, wearing her signature stony scowl, I almost forget where we are, what we are doing here.
She finally glances over to where I'm sitting. She gives me a weak smile before turning once again to face the crowd. I look at the faces of all of the men who are jeering at her. Unlike the women, who looked desperate with lust at the idea of owning me, these men have a dark, sinister look about them. Like they are used to owning and using women, and that this particular woman would be the ultimate prize.
Something dark stirs within my chest.
I am a protector.
I am unable to suppress the fury and adrenaline that surges through my veins.
"KATNISS!" I scream. I must get her away from them. I can't let them have her. I struggle against the restraints, but I am unable to turn the bracelet charms around in my hand to saw myself free. Tears roll down her cheeks and she listens to my desperate cries. She doesn't turn to face me. I feel my chair begin to slide backwards and I look frantically around the room fro help that I know will never come.
My eyes finally land on the gold skinned woman. My new "owner".
Her face goes dark as she shoots me a look.
A warning.
She slowly raises a finger to her lips as if to shush me, the skin on her forearm glittering in the light.
There's something strange about the glittering, though. It's like one of the Capitol's fancy tattoos, except much less noticeable.
As I am pulled backstage and out of sight, the sparkling image finally registers.
The Mockingjay.
That's why Snow is so desperate. That is why he needs money so badly. He is either running out of resources or is trying to bolt.
The rebellion lives.
And yet, I find I couldn't care less. This realization does nothing to quell the fear and fury still raging inside me. If anything, my anger grows. Where have they been for the past year? Why haven't they tried to rescue us? They abandoned us. They abandoned her.
I do not trust the rebels. I do not trust them one bit.
So, there you have it! The rebellion lives! gasp! :0 Well, the next chapter is going to be another pretty long one, so it may take me a few days to get out. Although since I'm done with classes by 9:30 tomorrow morning, I may be able to get it out tomorrow :) I'm not making an promises though. If you have an questions/concerns/comments, you know what to do! review!