The lights were blinding me. The sounds were deafening. The humid body heat of thousands of spectators filled the room and made my skin prickle. The mingling scents of hundreds of perfumes and colognes stung at my nose and made me want to gag.

All I wanted to do was go back to the Arena and not hesitate. But seeing as that wasn't an option, I wanted to find a dark empty room and curl up in the corner. The last thing I wanted, the last thing I needed, was to be sitting in front of Capitol citizens like I'd just won some fantastical prize. Then again, the only thing lamer than my current predicament, were the Capitol citizens that wanted to see me; so it could be worse.

Caesar Flickerman was sitting in the seat next to me, as well dressed and well prepared as ever. He was dressed in dark brown, his crimson hair and makeup reminded me of the throwing axes that I used. Sharp and bloody. I'd liked him before the Arena, he'd come across as half decent then but now the sight of him made me feel sick. With his inappropriate colour choice and faked smile. I wondered how it was that I hadn't realised how fake he was the first time I'd met him.

Someone outside of the view of the camera used their fingers to count down from five. When she reached zero she pointed to Flickerman and there was a shift in his posture. The cameras and sound were now rolling, meaning that the interview was seconds from starting. The crowd roared and after a few moments Flickerman gestured for them to quieten. Like well trained puppies they fell silent.

Flickerman turned to me, "First things first. Congratulations, Alfie from District Two." The crowd cheered for a few seconds but it dropped off quickly enough and Flickerman continued, "How does it feel to be Victor?"

I looked him in the eyes, staring hard at the soft features that came from a life of easy living. He'd never faced a single physical hardship and I knew that he had no idea what I was going through. He could smile until his jaw fell off and I would still not fall for his bullshit. I was over doing things for the Capitol; they'd thrown me to the wolves, they deserved nothing from me.

The audience watched in awed silence. It sounded like they'd stopped breathing for fear they'd miss my response. I wanted to tell them that they would suffocate before I answered them but that would be an answer and I couldn't be bothered with those pathetic strangers.

My side stung. The puncture wound where the second tranquilizer dart had hit me was still sore and open. It hadn't hurt much after they got me out of the Arena, but now that I was wearing a dress it was smarting like never before. The long, flowing, one-shoulder silver dress was tight around my stomach, even though the layer of white chiffon that draped over the glossy grey fabric made it look loose. The chiffon was open on both sides, allowing the underneath to shine through and allowing me to gather it in my angered hands and fiddle with it.

"I'm sure it's a lot to take in. After everything you've been through you probably can't wait to get back to your family." he paused to see if I'd say anything here but he wasn't going to get anything from me. None of these people had earned answers.

When I didn't answer, Flickerman continued, still with that annoying cheesy grin, "Before you entered the Arena I asked you this..." he gestured to the large screen behind us. I didn't look but I heard my first interview start to play. It was focused on Flickerman's question about having a 'significant other' and my response of 'I'll answer that when I'm Victor'. The clip ended and everyone looked at me.

I said nothing. An elderly lady in the audience turned to her neighbour and mumbled something about me being rude. I made sure to catch her eye and glared at her. She looked back at me with dull eyes like black holes against her mask of technicoloured makeup. Part of me wanted to jump off the stage and punch her.

This superficial bitch and her snobby friends were the reason why I had been sent into the Arena. They were responsible for tearing me away from my family and forcing me to fight against a bunch of strangers for our lives, something that we shouldn't have to defend. I was a murderer because of them. I watched the best friend that I'd ever had die because of them. That was rude. The fact that I wouldn't talk to them was nice in comparison to what they deserved for what they'd put me and all my fellow tributes through. The fallen tributes.

"We're all wondering if there is someone in District Two who is waiting for you." Flickerman said as if to remind me that they wanted me to talk.

I looked at him for a second before leaning back in the chair. If I had to go through with this stupid charade then I was going to go through it in as much comfort as possible. The chair wasn't anywhere near as comfy as the couch that had taken up most of the family room in our home in District Four but it was the best I had at this moment.

He waited a few minutes before choosing something else to talk about, "How do you think your family reacted to your victory?"

This was the set up for the entire interview, Flickerman asking me questions and me refusing to answer them. I could see the District Two Mentors, standing just off stage, gesturing for me to say something, anything. They were desperate and it was clear, as time went on, that Flickerman was starting to feel a burden that he didn't know what to do with. It made me wonder who would get in more trouble from the Capitol; me for being too stubborn, my Mentors for not scaring me into line better or Flickerman for his failure to get a good interview. I didn't really care, whichever way it worked out, but it still intrigued me.

After an unsuccessful interview, I was shooed off the stage where my Mentors didn't say anything. I think the truth was that they didn't mind what I'd done. I think that they understood why it was that I didn't want to talk to him, to any of them.

Brutus was yelling at me about disrespecting the Capitol, but I knew he was only doing it because there were several Peacekeepers nearby and you could never know what they were hanging around for, although it was almost certain that they were here to spy on us. Brutus might not be my favourite person in the world but I liked him more now that I'd survived the Hunger Games. It was a strange feeling that he, and Enobaria, all of a sudden knew more about me than they ever had before; and I about them.

The Peacekeepers moved away and I saw someone in the corner of my eye that made the tears well. I pushed past Brutus without thinking twice about what I was doing and just about ran down the hall. He shouldn't have been here, there was no reason for him to be anywhere near the Capitol, let alone waiting backstage for me.

He smiled at me as I reached him and I felt the first tear run down my cheek as I wrapped my arms around his waist and held him tight. He hugged my head into his firm chest and kissed my hair softly. The salty smell of his clothes only made my longing stronger and it was surprising exactly how much I missed home, my real home that is.

"You did good, Squid." he mumbled into my hair and I tightened my grip around his torso. His firm body reminded me of my father and the hugs he gave after weeks away at sea, it must be a District Four thing and it was definitely something that I missed in Two.

Brutus' booming voice seemed to blow away the minimal comfort that the moment held and left me feeling even colder than before, "Odair, I'm surprised you've hung around."

Finn didn't let me go although he adjusted his position so as not to be rude to Brutus, "The Norling's have long been friends with the Odair's. I, as with all of my family, owe the Norling's for more than someone like you would ever understand." He might not have wanted to look rude but he couldn't hide how little he cared for my Mentors.

I didn't care for formalities, I squeezed my eye shut and tried to force the memories of District Four back into the forefront of my mind.

It didn't work.

The sound of Brutus' grumbling was too loud to allow me even a fraction of a second of relief. His deep voice bite at my sanity, every mumbled word made me want to punch him even more than I wanted to punch Flickerman not fifteen minutes before. I quickly realised that that thought was an exaggeration but Brutus was getting close.

Enobaria spoke up, efficiently silencing Brutus, "We are Miss Norling's Mentors and she does not have time for this. No matter how much she might wish she does. We have a lot that we need to prepare for so enough is enough."

I wanted to yell at Enobaria to leave me alone. I wanted to tell her, as succinctly as possible, to fuck off and give me a break. But all words we lost to me. For reasons that I didn't understand, I felt like there was a morsel of comfort in my own silence. A strength in my own noiseless solidarity against the outside world. Any sound that I could possibly make was a threat to what little comfort and strength I felt I had and the threat of that loss was enough to encourage me to give in to Enobaria's crap.

She led me away from Finn and I found myself unable to look back at him as I plodded along behind the past District Two victor. I'd felt a tension in Finn's arms as he resisted my withdrawal from him and I knew that at least part of it was shock over my perceived subordination to the old victor. I'd never really been one to easily give in to other people's demands and Finn knew it. If I looked back then I knew the expression on his face would break my heart and I was fall to pieces.

The last few hours felt like a living nightmare. I'd known that walking out of the Arena would be bad and I'd considered more than once that not walking out would be the easier way of doing things. Shit, I'd more than considered not walking out, I'd planned not to but an annoying spark of instinctual desire for survival had screwed those plans.

So now, I had walked out of the Arena and was following in the footsteps of a Mentor that I had all but forgotten had been a victor until I'd moved to District Two. I was on the road to taking her place. A female victor that would likely one day be a Mentor to other children sentenced to death in an artificial land for the entertainment of those pathetic individuals that call themselves human beings.

It was strange. I knew that the Mentors had been through their own Hunger Games and they'd come out on top by the same means that I did. But that knowledge only gave me a moderate amount of relief. Victor or not, I still felt they did not and could not understand how angry I felt. And bitter. And vengeful. I was feeling so many negative things, to a level that I'd never dreamt imaginable, that it was hard to think someone like Enobaria had ever felt anything that held a candle to it.

Most of all though, I was tired.

I wanted a bed. A cozy bed, not like the ones that existed here in the Capitol. Here the beds were about as comfy as the citizens breasts were natural. It sounded stupid but the best word I could think of to describe their beds were manufactured. I know all beds are manufactured somewhere but the soft cushy feel of their mattresses only reminded me of how determined the Capitol was to convince the rest of the country that they were genuine people. All the pillowy goodness in the world would never make these beds comfortable.

Author's Note:

I know this is a short chapter but I'm trying to get back into the swing of things after ages off. I've been at Uni and finding it hard to get time to write anything creative. If you guys continue to show support than I'll continue putting up chapters, hopefully more frequently then I have been recently.