A/N Since I got a bunch of new reviewers last chapter, thanks for taking the time to review! And for those who've stuck around since the beginning… Thank for sticking around :) Don't be afraid to prompt!

This scene: CF In District 11, in the Justice Bulding after Katniss and Peeta's speeches in the square.

Peeta

As I walk away from the dome of the Justice Building where Katniss and Haymitch are still talking, I realize I'm shaking from anger. I only remember feeling this betrayed once.

When Katniss told me that everything I thought was true in the arena was actually a lie, fabricated for the audience. And the audience believed it all. Just like me.

But this time is almost worse. Because this isn't only about my feelings, this is also about three people who were shot because of me, Because I offered them a gift. At the time, it had seemed right. After all, Thresh and Rue had done so much. They deserved to be thanked. And now… three innocent people were dead.

All because Haymitch and Katniss keep on lying to me.

I lean against the wall and take a deep, shuddering breath. I press my fingers against my eyes and try to calm myself.

"Peeta?" I open my eyes to see Portia looking at me anxiously. "Are you alright? Where are-"

"Haymitch and Katniss?" I ask, forcing myself to smile brightly. "Haymitch was congratulating Katniss on her speech when I left. You know how she usually is in front of cameras."

"Oh." Portia smiles, buying my lie. "Well, you have a little while to relax before prepping, why not make use of it?"

"I was just heading to my room," I say cheerfully. "See you at prepping."

In my room, I'm a little calmer. A little. I'm lying on my bed, trying to clear my mind when there's a knock on my door.

"Haymitch." I sigh it when I see him glaring at me, but I manage to make it sound weary instead of rude. That inherent courtesy my father hammered into me as a child is still ingrained in me.

"Look," he starts, pushing past me and sitting on a chair. "I don't why I'm doing this, but I'm here defending Katniss."

"Excuse me?" I ask, confused. I was expecting a ribbing, sharp words, or at the very least a little derision.

"She's clueless," he says finally. He seems so awkward, sitting there in a velvet chair picking at a loose thread.

"Less than I was until a while ago," I point out, surprisingly calmly.

"You're right. But that wasn't Katniss' decision, that was mine."

I wince. "From now on I want to know what's going on," I repeat.

"Fine," he agrees again, rising. He adds suddenly, before he's out the door, "you shouldn't have yelled at her. She's going through enough. Not that we all aren't." And he shuts the door.

As I sink onto my bed, I know he's right. We're still a part of the Games. I think of her anger after my interview with Caesar Flickerman last year and realize that maybe I'm feeling what she felt then.

But then I remember standing in the dome, listening to Katniss explain everything to me.

Her eyes are averted as she speaks. "And before he left, President Snow told me- he threatened me and told me he knew about… a kiss."

"A kiss?" I repeat, even though I know what's she going to say.

Her gray eyes flick up to me quickly before dropping again. "A while after we got back from the Games, Gale… Gale kissed me outside of the district."

Gale kissed her.

Gale kissed her. Did she kiss Gale? That's what she should've told me.

It's stupid that I feel so betrayed. After all, I don't matter. It's clear who she prefers. I'm the act. I'm for the gullible audience.

Gale is for her.