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The Softer Side

"I really don't see why you have to leave early," Felix said gruffly.

I turned away from my packing to look at him. He was leaning against the door frame, glowering at me as I prepared for my departure. It was most certainly not my wish to leave sooner than planned, but alas, there was no choice. I was not stupid enough to refuse such a blatant order.
"You know I have to," I said.

"You won't be here for the victory tour," he reminded me, causing me to pull a face.
It was partly the reason that I was so willing to comply. I knew it was a bit childish, but I did begrudge the pair from Twelve their victory. The people loved them - the Capitolites because they had eaten up their love story and the Districts because their victory had inspired them. In fact, I had never heard so many people openly complain about their fate. They especially loved the girl, for her sweet burial of the little girl from Eleven and for heroic acts to save her partner.
I did not know how much of it was a show for her, but at least their love was just a charade. I could tell so much from the smug smirk Haymitch seemed to constantly wear now. I doubted I could actually talk to him without strangling him with my bare hands. He was beyond annoying.

"I know," I told Felix. "But I'll just watch on TV. Nero will do fine on his own."

It was Felix turn to grimace, then. "Are you sure?" he asked. "He seemed a bit out of it, lately."

"Are you surprised?" I retorted. "He hoped he could get out of the whole thing before it's too late. Hell, even I thought we could both win. And then he had to watch his tribute ripped to shreds by muttations. It's been hard."

Felix walked over and sat down on my bed, shaking his head slightly. He probably would not tell Nero himself, but he was worried. I wondered if he and Enobaria had been as concerned about me back in the day. I shuddered slightly at the thought. It had been five years and I could barely remember the girl I had been then.

"Will you be fine?" Felix said. "Maybe I can accompany you-"

"You don't need to," I said. "And you shouldn't. You know how it is. They apparently paid a lot of money to get me early. A birthday present as I hear-"

"Stop," he groaned out, holding up his hands.

I sighed heavily. This truly was not getting any easier. I had to get out of this whole mess of games and clients as quickly as possible. Last time, we had had such a great chance... in fact, I had had chances several times, but there was just no way to make sure. Sometimes, I wondered if it was even possible for me to win. Maybe Snow did not want me to win. It was a very real possibility and I would never be able to do anything about it.

"I know, okay," I said carefully, reaching out to take his hands. "I just... there's nothing I can do about it. So I'll go and I smile and do whatever I need to do and then I'll come back to you, all right?"

One hand untangled from mine and instead gently came to rest at the back of my neck and he pulled me down to meet his lips. I smiled into the kiss, my free hand resting on his shoulder to steady myself. I allowed us a few blissful moments before I pulled back, my fingers travelling up to caress his cheek.

"What would I do without you?" I whispered.

He rolled his eyes at me. "You'd be fine," he announced. "And I would still be pretending not to care."

I studied him, mouth opening slightly in surprise. Certainly he knew that he was talking nonsense. Felix was my rock, the only thing that kept me hoping for better times. I wanted so badly to tell him at that moment, that I loved him, but the words would not roll of my tongue. He should not hear this when I was on my way to the Capitol. Felix deserved better than that.

"You're an idiot," I told him jokingly before dropping a kiss on his cheek. "Now go on, let me pack."

As it turned out, the appointment I had was not all that bad. It was, in fact, a birthday party, and they had mainly requested my presence so they could bathe in the glory of being seen with a victor in public. They had gone all out, too, apparently investing a lot for they had managed to acquire Finnick's company, too, and everyone knew he was hard to get by. It truly was the most pleasant surprise.

Right now, I watched as he leant closer to one of the hosts and she blushed furiously at whatever he had whispered in her ear,

"Finnick," I scolded with a smirk.

"What?" he said, sitting up again and grinning back to me. "Am I not allowed to pay compliments?"

I laughed along with the rest of the group as Finnick gave the woman flirtatious wink.

"Dear boy," the man next to me joked. "What a behaviour!"

"Quite scandalous," I agreed.

"Speaking of," the blushing woman suddenly said and her two friends leant forward at once, hardly concealing the curiosity. "Have you seen Katniss' speech in District Eleven? She caused quite a rumpus!"

I exchanged a short glance with Finnick. Neither of us had had a chance to watch the victory tour so far, and I had not cared much for it, either way. But apparently, the bloody girl still knew how to make headlines. It annoyed me beyond measure, but I was pretty sure that it would annoy President Snow, too. Considering everything, this could get very dangerous for the girl very quickly.

"And the boy," the woman continued her tale. "Oh, Peeta is such a sweetheart, don't you agree? He offered up some of his money for the families of Eleven's tributes. What a gesture!"

"Totally unheard of," the man next to me agreed.

"They're maybe not even allowed," the woman answered, shrugging slightly and leaning back in her seat. "The Head Gamemaker has to decide."

I took a sip of my drink before commenting. "Surely Mr Crane will humour them," I said.

All three Capitolites stared at me with wide eyes, their expressions changing from plain surprise to being painfully embarrassed. I looked between them, trying to figure out what I had said to cause such a reaction and then looked to Finnick, who seemed as confused as I was.

"Haven't you heard?" the blushing woman asked and the pity that laced her voice made my heart clench in dread.

"What happened?" I asked pointedly.

"Oh, it's a scandal all right," the man explained. "Apparently, he killed himself."

My heart seemed to skip a beat before I could ask, "He - what?"

"Yes," the woman continued, shaking her head with condescending sadness. "They found him dead the other night. They say he feared he was growing old and ugly. And we all know how shallow the poor man could be."

I stared at her, unable to process her words or even formulate a response. "I... uh..."

"You're right," Finnick said quickly, but his eyes never left me. "That really is scandalous."

I felt like I could not breathe anymore. The room was so warm and loud and my head was suddenly spinning violently as the news finally sank in.
"Excuse me," I said as I struggled to my feet. "I'm going to-"

"Are you all right?" the man said, sounding almost concerned about my well-being.

"A little dizzy," I answered, hardly recognizing my voice, which came out raspy and thick. "Just need a bit of fresh air. I'll be right back."

The man got up to let me out of our booth and I left for the balcony without so much as a backward glance. I was pretty sure I ran into one or two Capitolites on my way, but I never halted and never apologized. In fact, I feared that if I opened my mouth right now, I might just vomit.
The fresh air was like a wake-up call. I took a deep breath and the freezing cold in my lunges brought me back to my sense. And with that, it also drove home what I had just learnt with grim certainty. They had killed Seneca Crane.
Of course, I had not loved him or anything sentimental of the sort. But I had come to like him. He might have paid for my company and he might have thus forced me into his bed, but he had become a friend.
And this was wrong, his death was so very wrong. I felt my eyes watering and it was completely pointless to hold back the tears. My hands flew up to my face and then my fingers tangled in my hair as I let out a strangled sob. If it was so easy to kill the Head Gamemaker - how easy would it be to kill a victor?

The balcony was a big, lascivious thing and I walked forward until I could support myself on the intricate railing. My fingers curled around the icy metal so tightly that my knuckles turned white. The coldness of the material bit into my flesh, but I ignored it, heaving with my sobs.

"Nissa?"

I whirled around, immediately trying to control my tears. But there was no point - Finnick had already seen quite enough.

"What's going on?" he asked.

I furiously wiped the tears away that still ran uncontrollably down my cheeks. "They killed him, Finnick."

His eyebrows furrowed and he walked towards me. "They said-"

"Oh, they're obviously wrong!" I exclaimed. "I knew him. Seneca was... always in style, very classy, but - not shallow, never. It's a lie."

"That's a dangerous thing to say," he reminded me gently with a quick glance over his shoulder to the partying Capitolites inside. Yet we both knew that the careless citizens were hardly the people we had to worry about. We had to worry about Snow and his brigade of corrupt politicians. But tonight, I did not care what he would do when he heard what I had to say. I knew the truth and he could hear that loud and clear.

"They killed him," I said in a quieter voice. "They killed him because he let the pair from Twelve win. They killed him because the girl pulled out her berries and he couldn't back out anymore! And then, they made up this entire lie to discredit him even in his death!"

"You're working yourself up about this," Finnick said reasonably.

Maybe I was. Considering how I was shivering and how shaky my voice was, Finnick was probably right. But I felt like I had the right to be worked up about this.

"What am I going to do? My tributes... he was my chance," I said. "Nero wouldn't have won without him. He's not that good a fighter, I don't have any idea how I'm supposed to make anyone win without Crane-"

"Stop," Finnick ordered, grabbing me by the arms which made my head snap back to him. I searched his eyes, desperately hoping that he would understand.

"Finnick..."

"You'll just have to play fair for a change," he said with a weak smile. A poor attempt at a joke it was and I pried his arms away to step back.

"There's nothing fair about this!" I told him heatedly. "This is not - not entirely - about these damned Games."

He closed his eyes for a moment and raised a hand to stroke through his hair. "What is this about, then?" he asked.

At that moment, I could not have been happier that it was Finnick standing here with me and no one else. I knew he would understand perfectly well what I meant. That in our world, we had to cherish every bit that was not hostile and dark - and what it meant if we lost one of these few pecks of light.

"I knew him," I whispered. "And he was friendly."

With a few steps, Finnick was with me again and pulled me into his arms. I practically fell into them, leaning my head against his chest as he held me.
We remained still for a long while. It was one of those rare moments of peace and quiet that one never wanted to end. But it had to end, like all good things had to end in our world and it was a horrible reality I had to face. I had to go back inside, back to the group that had hired us and pretend like I was perfectly fine again and that I was not actually faze by Crane's death, when all I wanted was to curl up in a corner and cry for as long as I could.

"We need to get back inside," I muttered finally, pulling away from him and sniffling slightly.

"Will you be all right?" he asked.

I forced myself to smile slightly at him. Better get started with the acting already, I figured. "Of course," I said.
I did not wait for an answer to see if he bought it. Instead, I walked away. I would go to the bathroom and remove all traces of sorrow from tear-stained face and then I would return to our hosts. The show had to go on, after all.