There's no denying what I'm about to do. The stage lights are too bright, even from behind it, and the sounds of thousands of voices talking and giggling are too loud to ignore. I'm incapable of forgetting exactly where I am. Still, I try. I stand still as stone, my eyes pressed tightly closed as my prep team put's finishing touches on me behind the stage. In a minute, I'll walk around the curtain and be embraced by the penetrating stare of all of Panem. I will have to face the Cesar, Capitol citizens, the people of the districts, the Gamemakers, the families of the dead tributes, and the President himself. I will sit and watch my most horrible and painful memories with crowds of people, and then we will sit for an hour and a half to dissect them. I twitch in anger at the thought and my eyes drift open suddenly.

"That's enough touch-ups ladies," Finnick tells the prep team, dismissing them. "She's as good as she's going to be."

The gesture is innocuous, but I know he's only doing it to give me a second of farewell advice. I've learned how to dissect Finnick's behaviors to the point of insanity. It was the only thing that kept me alive in the arena, and that's a hard habit to shake.

The prep team throw me proud glances, and Merrill stops to place a quick kiss on my cheek. "You'll be fine out there," she assures me. I give her a weak smile in response. Finnick waits until there gone and then turns to me.

"Spin," he orders, "I want to get a good look at you."

I roll my eyes and twirl slowly for him, knowing that if Finnick is asking, there has to be a good reason for it. Its not the way it used to be. If he had asked me to that before all of this, I'd have tried to cut his tongue out. But now? I listen.

Finnick watches me carefully and says. "I'll give you this, they followed your orders. You look deadly. And hot, of course. But mostly deadly."

My instructions to Merrill and the prep team had been very clear. I wanted to look terrifying. After all, my story arc had been simple. Beautiful, overlooked tribute turns ferocious and deadly in the arena. There were only two routes I could take with my after-games interview. I could be the flirty, bubbly Epperly that the Capitol saw in my first interview, or I could be the changed, fierce tribute they saw in the arena. People are less likely to ask probing personal questions to someone they're afraid of, so I chose the latter. And that meant making this transition clear. The prep team didn't disappoint. The dress I wear is black, long sleeved and tight all the way to my calves. Per Finnick's request, the neckline plunges, and panels on the sides are sheer. It's revealing and terrifying at the same time. My makeup is the same. They lined my eyes with thick lines and shadows of black charcoal and coated my lips with a dark, deep red. My scar is prominent too. The prep team wanted to cover it with makeup but I wouldn't let them. The audience needs to see it. They need to understand the person they created in there.

Finnick gives me a curt shake of his head, and one of the Capitol attendants flit by to tell us we only have a minute left before I need to be on stage. I can already here Cesar Flickerman speaking on the stage. Finnick pushes me forward, a leading hand digging into my shoulder.

"Remember," he hisses softly in my ear. "You can be cold. You can be terrifying, but at the end of the day. They want you proud."

I let out a tiny, cruel laugh. "Proud? That's rich."

Finnick gives me a warning face. "Now is not the time Epperly. If you want to scream and throw things about how cruel the Capitol was to you, you do it back home in Four. For the next three hours, you do what you need to."

He's right, per usual. So I steady my face and get ready for what's ahead.

Then I hear Cesar, "Ladies and Gentleman, I present to you the victor of the 72nd Hunger Games, Epperly Steelstrom!"

That's my cue. I make sure my face is only pulled into a tiny smile and I look as unapproachable as I can as I take a step out onto the stage. The resulting scream from the crowd is so loud, it's deafening. They're excited, thrilled, to see me. They scream and gasp and cheer. They're reacting to my scar, my outfit, and me. Their victor. I don't know which, and I don't care too. I walk quickly, and the moment I'm submerged onto the stage, I can hardly see. The crowd in front of me is so tall and spans so high, I can't see where it stops or starts. It's at least twice the size of the first interviews. How did this many people come out to relive the Games? It's sick. I'm unable to keep the horrified expression from crossing my face, and I can almost hear Finnick sigh, even over the screams of the crowd. Thankfully, they must mistake my facial expression for nerves, or simply don't care, because Cesar approaches me carefully and pulls me into a hug. Then he sits me down on in one of the two chairs on the stage. The one he sits in is simple, like the first ones. The one he sits me down is inlaid with gold and plush. It's not a chair, it's a throne. Fit for a victor.

"Nerve-wracking, huh?" Cesar chortles gesturing to the hooting crowd. I give a gentle shake of my head, "Very." My voice is tense and harsh. I plan to keep it that way.

The crowd begins to simmer down, anxious to listen to us speak. They're eyes are glued to Cesar and I. Sick, voyerusitic fools.

"So, Epperly," Cesar says. "I have a lot of questions to ask you tonight and I know everyone is dying to hear the answers, but before I do, let me just say, Congratulations on becoming victor. I think I speak for all of Panem when I say, I'm glad it was you who won."

The crowds screams again in response. I want to shiver. Of course, they're glad. They were taking bets on us.

I give the tiniest, forced smile I can muster. "Thank you, Cesar."

Cesar grins, "Curt aren't we? Don't worry, we'll get her talking after the recap, won't we?" He and the audience laugh together. I dig my nails into my palm. Cesar turns back to me with a wide smile, "Alright, without further ado, I'd like you all to watch the recap of the 72nd Games."

Immediately, the lights dim until it's practically black in the room. The giant, building sized projector immediately fills the room with the seal from the Games, and the footage starts to roll.

The entire audience sighs and settles in to watch.

The recap is an hour and a half. It's supposed to show the Games as a whole, but because I am the victor, it focuses mainly on me. It starts with my reaping. I watch my face as my name is called and everything changes. It feels like a lifetime ago. It's hard for me to watch. When they flip through the other reapings, they pause on District seven and eight. My allies. My stomach flips violently when I see Firth's face for the first time since he died. It's like ripping at a wound, that's how immediate the pain is. It's Firth. Happy, beautiful, blue-eyed, alive, Firth. My hand flies to my mouth, and I suddenly feel like I'm going to throw up on the stage. I don't. Instead I dig my nails into the plush armchair and bite the inside of my cheek, breathing slowly through my nose. I won't let the audience and the Capitol see how much it's getting to me. I watch the rest of the recap this way, sullen and hostile.

I see my interview, and the parallel to right now is jarring. Then it cuts to the start of the Games. The camera zooms in on me as the countdown happens. Only then do I notice my placement. I knew I was next to Mar, but on my other side I see.. Colt? Yup. There's no denying it. I started the Games right beside my biggest competitor, and didn't even know it. Stupid. I was stupid to discount him. Then the Games start and I watch the bloodbath all over again. It's awful to relive how savagely the Careers killed everyone. I see Firth kill Rex. I never saw that in person, it's quick and skilled. Then it happens and I gasp. I take the knife for Firth. The audience gasps and some cheer. It's clear there, in both of our eyes, how much we cared for one another. I feel like an idiot I didn't see it before. The Capitol doesn't let me linger in the moment, they immediately cut to Kenrick yelling at me, towering over me red faced and screaming. God, it's just as terrifying to watch now. Kenrick still makes me quiver with fear, even though I know he's dead. Then they show a montage of Garnet and I's tiny confrontations, building the tension no doubt.

Then there's me fleeing the careers. I find out the girl I used for my distraction was running from Colt. Figures. I get to see for the first time how furious everyone is with me for leaving. It's clear they were out for blood. Then they cut away to the other tributes. I watch Colt kill several of them, and the Careers hunt the others down. They show Firth and Mar, and what they were doing early in the Games. I have to watch all the other tributes die. It's weird putting together the parts of the Games I didn't see. All of this was happening right under my nose. This was the Games everyone else got to see.

Then they're back on me. Me wandering out of the maze. Finnick's first gift. The audience chuckles when I swear at him, before realizing how precious this gift was. Me darting arrows. Me fishing. Then my first kill, Hawke. The boy from ten. It's disturbing to watch how easily I killed him. I can't watch it without choking. The audience screams as I spear him.

Then comes Mar. I watch myself tower over here, and realize how quickly I almost killed her. We become allies instead. That's hard to watch. In the beginning it was so good, I honestly believed she was a friend. Then I watch our plan. I watch myself murder Audra. Another scream from the audience. Then I have to relive Mar's betrayal and I kill her too. The audience scream is shaking the entire amphitheater. What's funny is the cameras aren't showing any of the after. Not one shot of me curled up against a tree bawling my eyes out. When they show it like this, I look like a ruthless, killer. Not the flawed, weak person I feel like. I wonder if they showed the audience that during the real Games, or did they paint me as an emotionless killer the entire time? I guess I'll never know. I'll have to ask Finnick.

Then they show the top eight interviews. I see my family. All of my brothers and my parents are crowded around our tiny kitchen table. My parents look gaunt and exhausted, but my brothers, they look ecstatic proud. They ask them about my kills, and my skills with fishing. Zale takes full credit for teaching me to spear. Lennox criticizes my fish-spearing. Tucker tells them I should of caught more fish. Byron jokes that I'm going to be the only tribute in history to gain weight in the arena.

When they ask, "Do you think you're sister has a decent chance at winning this?" My parents, Zale, Lennox and Tucker all go blank-faced, and pale. That's when I know they thought I was going to die. But Byron interjects before all of them.

"Epperly's going to win," he says confidently. "She's coming home."
My heart swells with affection for my youngest, older brother, but I don't get even a second to dwell on it. They cut immediately back to the Games.

I watch more of Colt and the Career's kills. I see myself face those bird mutts. Then there's the Kenrick showdown. The audience gasps and so do I. I see how close I came to being tortured at his hands. Then there's Firth, saving me. I watch our entire exchange. Was I really that desperate to go without him? That seems so ridiculous now. I can't help it. I watch the rest of the footage with my arms wrapped around my legs. It's like undergoing torture, watching all of the happy memories with Firth playing out on the screen. I don't breathe until we get to the waterfall.

I kill Fane. The audience screams, and I brace myself for what comes next. Firth kisses me and the entire audience sighs with sadness. They know what happens, they're all mourning it too. I don't watch Garnet kill him. But I can't stop the tears from running down my face. I bury my head on my knees until they show my final gift from Finnick. You can actually see it on the screen. The moment I read the words inscribed on that spear head. You can see the grief turn to rage in my eyes.

Then there's my showdown with her. That's the only part I want to see. My fight with Garnet is blood, gruesome and horrible. The audience cheers the entire time. From my perspective, I can finally see how close it came. How close we both came to death, and how many injuries I sustained. When she cuts me, my hand flies to my scar. I can still feel the pain. Then the arrow skewers her and the audience lets out another loud gasp. I roll my eyes, they're acting like they've never seen it before. I'm the one whose watching it for the first time, and I'm still behaving better than they are. Then they show the final showdown with Colt. Here, they show all the footage. Right down to the moment I am announced as victor.

The entire audience cheers and claps. Cesar too.

Then the projector goes dark and the lights turn back on immediately, exposing my grieving. I try to straighten myself and hide my tears, but it's too late, everyone's seen. They all are clapping now.

The clapping doesn't die down for several seconds. I take all of this time to straighten myself and turn my face back into the unaffected mask I wanted to wear. But it's not working like before, and I know it. I'm too emotional and raw from what I just watched. I don't feel like trying to hide myself. All I want to do is curl up on the ground and cry for Firth. But I can't. These people won't let me. They're not finished torturing me yet.

The moment the audience's clapping has quieted enough for Cesar to talk, he does. He turns to me with wide, emotional eyes.

"Well, that must have been very emotional for you, am I quite right?" he asks. No one in the audience speaks. I give a gentle nod of my head.

"What are you thinking at this very moment?" Cesar pushes. He's determined to get some kind of answer out of me tonight.

That's when I realize it doesn't matter how I feel or how much I try to hide everything I'm feeling. They will drag it out of me anyway. I have no choice, so I might as well give em hell.

"Raw," I answer honestly, "watching all of that back is terrifying, horrifying…." I stop. "and a little enlightening."

"Enlightening?" Cesar asks, dramatically raising an eyebrow. "How so?"

I take a deep breath, "So much of that I had never seen. I saw things I didn't know. Things I wish I hadn't seen. You guys have all seen this before, but for me it's the first time I'm seeing so much of this."

"Ah," Cesar nods. "I see. Well I cannot begin to imagine how that must feel. Is there anything you're glad you got to witnesss?"

If I was being honest. I was glad I got to relive every moment with Firth one more time, but I refuse to tell that to Cesar and the audience. So instead, I go on to my next answer.

"The showdown with Garnet," I answer effortlessly. "I'm glad I got to relive that."

The audience cheers and I know I've got them hooked. There's nothing they love more than a bloodthirsty tribute.

"That was quite a show? Wasn't it?" Cesar says. "Are you disappointed you didn't get to be the one to kill her?"

This is the only question I don't need to take time to answer. "Yes," I snap.

His face grows very serious and he looks to me.

"Because she killed Firth?" he asks quietly.

This is it, the moment that the entire audience is waiting for. I want to growl, but I don't.

"Yes," I tell them. "She deserved it."

To my intense surprise, Cesar immediately moves onto another frivolous question. I'm shocked, I thought for sure he's make me relive that. How can he not have questions about Firth? But he doesn't. Cesar moves onto another question. That's how it goes on over and over for almost an hour. He asks a mixture of questions, some are simple like about how I fished or where I choose to hide. Some are more personal and difficult to answer, like why did I trust Mar, how did I decide to trust her, and am I angry with Kenrick for trying to assault me? I grit my teeth through those. I also hate reliving my kills. Cesar asks me about each one in great detail, and I get a horrible pit in my stomach as I talk about them.

Then out of nowhere, it comes. Like a bullet, or one of Colt's arrows. Cesar turns to me and says.

"Now, I'm sure you know we all want to talk about Firth?" he says.

Suddenly I can't breathe. My chest tightens and I feel like I'm going to loose all feeling in my body.

"Yes," I say through clenched teeth.

"You loved him." Cesar says. Not a question.

I nod, they audience starts to cry. Then I am forced to answer a serious of questions about Firth that make hot angry, tears slip through my eyes and down my cheeks. The entire audience and Cesar are crying along with me. It feels like I have ripped my heart straight out of my chest and given it to them. I would rather die than talk about it. And as suddenly as it starts, its over. Cesar's moved onto a different topic.

"So," he says swiftly. "When Finnick sent you that spear head with that inscription, I couldn't breathe. How did you feel?"

Finally, a question that doesn't make me want to vomit.

"Empowered," I answer honestly. "It was the motivation I needed to keep fighting, and to end the Games."

"Is that the moment you knew you would win?" Cesar asks.

I shake my head. "No. I wanted to win, but I think in that moment all I was concerned with was making sure that I went out fighting tooth and nail."

"And fight, you did," Cesar says, firing off a series of questions about my final battles with Garnet and Colt. Those are easier to talk about. Those memories are fresher and less painful.

"And I see you came away with a little souvenir from those fights," Cesar says nodding at my scar.

My fingers reach up to trace the deep scar on my face and I give a gentle nod. The audience lets out a soft, sad sigh. Of course they feel bad for me. I'm uglier than I was before. They don't see how important the scar is.

"Does it upset you?" Cesar probes.

I shake my head. "No, it doesn't. It reminds me of what happened in the arena. Of what I had to do." I make sure to stress that statement. My final reminder to everyone here that what I went through was their fault.

"Well you certainly did what you had too," Cesar says, "and it paid off. You are the victor. I know your family must be very proud of you. Two children enter the Games and one exits a victor!"

I grit my teeth over the subtle, nonchalant mention of Wilder's tragic death. I guess to them it's only a punchline. A little hiccup to me becoming victor. The crowd cheers for me again and Cesar turns back to me.

"Now, Epperly. As much as I hate to say it. We're out of time. Is there anything else you'd like to say before we go?"

No, but I know I can't say nothing. So I stand and address the entire crowd in front of Panem.

"Thank you to everyone in Panem, for any help they gave me in the Games. I wouldn't be standing here without some of you," I say firmly.

There, let the important people deduce who they are. Everyone cheers and at least a hundred people in the audience look as though it was directed at them personally. Maybe they sponsored me. I don't really want to know.

Cesar takes my hand and holds it high above the crowd.

"Ladies and Gentleman, one more round of applause for our victor, Epperly Steelstrom!"

The crowd erupts into the loudest cheering of the evening. It's deafening, which is a good thing. Now at the very least, I can't hear my own horrible thoughts. I hate the Games. I hate the Gamemakers. I hate the people of the Capitol. I hate everyone who made it so that I had to kill five people, and see countless more, dead. But more importantly, I hate myself. For sitting up here and taking it. If I had any courage, I'd drive my spear through the back of my head. That would make me brave. That would make a tribute. But I'm not, I'm a victor.

Somehow, that's worse.

It sounds ridiculous, but I'm convinced the water smells different. No one listens to me about it, they all chalk it up to being in the arena for so long. After, all Epperly, they say, the ocean just doesn't start smelling differently.

I guess they're right, even though it feels wrong. I spent my entire life in the oceans of District Four. I never thought it would smell foreign to me. But now it does. It feel different too, like the salt in the water reacts differently to my skin, my new smooth Capitols skin. I know I'm being paranoid. That nothing in this District is actually different, it just feels different to me. Because I'm the one that's different.

Adjusting to being back home has been hard. At first, when Finnick and I first got off the train, my family crowded me, pulling me into tear-filled bear hugs and praying. That part was nice. It was the only time I'd ever seen my brothers cry. I was thrilled to be back home with them. To see them again. I watched Zale thank Finnick personally, and Byron give him shit for giving me too many gifts in the arena. It took a lot for them, I knew how they felt about Finnick before. I hoped there opinions of him now would change like mine did. The district was excited I was home too, they through a loud party on the beach the first day I was home, that lasted all night. I didn't actually go to that. I just wanted to sleep in my own bed, and relax.

That was the first day things started to change. No one knew what to do with me. Whenever someone approached me too quickly or something made a loud noise, I'd jump or brace myself for a fight. They started to look at me like I was a wild animal. Or with sad, reproachful eyes. Those were even worse. Especially, Zale. He barely said two words to me after they greeted me at the train station. I knew my family was glad to have my home, but it was very strange. None of them knew what to say or how to act around me. Mostly, they left me alone.

The day after, the mayor stopped by to bring me to my new house in Victor Village. Situated right between Finnick and Annie's house, was my new eight bedroom mansion. That part wasn't so bad, except for the fact that no one would come with me.

My parents claimed Victor Village was too far from where they worked, which I knew was a lie, but I didn't press them on it. Tucker followed my parent's lie. Lennox claimed he wanted to wait to move in with his girlfriend. Zale flat out told me he didn't want any of my blood money, or to live in a house paid for with the lives of dead children. That launched a fight so bad, it had our neighbors terrified.

"That is not fair," I told him, venomously. "You don't get to do that."

Zale had crossed his arms. "I don't know what to say, do you want me to lie?"

Zale had been cold to me the entire time I had been back from the Games. I didn't know what had caused the attitude, but I wasn't having it anymore.

"I don't want you to make me feel like a murderer," I snapped at him. "Would you have rather I died in the Games?"

Zale shook his head. "Of course not, but I also don't want to be constantly reminded about what you did either."

What. I. Did.

Angry tears slipped down my cheeks and I gave him the dirtiest face I could muster. "Well, I'm living there. So you want have to see me anymore, and be constantly reminded." Then I packed my stuff and slammed the door.

Byron was the only one who followed me. I woke up the next morning in my house in victor's village and found all of his things in one of the bedrooms. When I went downstairs to the kitchen, he was cooking breakfast in the kitchen.

"You're going to live here?" I asked him cautiously.

"Why wouldn't I?" Byron asked. "Have you seen this place?"

My heart had swelled to twice its size at his words. Byron was the only one who wasn't treating me like a feral animal.

"Nothing's different, Epperly," Byron had reminded me. "You're the same person you always were. Everyone else will come around." I gave him the biggest hug I could muster. If nothing else, I had Byron. That was enough.

After that, Byron lived with me in the house full time. He didn't mind when I screamed at night from nightmares, and didn't ask any questions when I placed a spear next to every entrance to the house. He was also gracious to Finnick, who stopped by several times a day. I was right about our new relationship. This shared experience had made us close in a way we couldn't define. We we're connected by horrible memories, and it made it so that we were the only ones who could fully understand what we were going through, or talk too. Annie also. She started stopping by too, and soon we all ate dinner together almost every night. The only hard part about was watching Finnick and Annie together. There effortless love always reminded me painfully of Firth, and I saw enough of him in my dreams at night.

I started spent my days fishing in the ocean, and my nights being taught how to cook by Annie. I didn't like going out in the District much anymore. Everyone stared at me too much and sometimes I'd run into one of Kenrick's brothers and become too upset or terrified to stay out. My old friends didn't know what to do with me. Ginger stopped by the first day I got home, but Byron kicked her out. Apparently she ran sponsorship collections for Kenrick instead of me while I was in the Games. It didn't surprise me, I expected that from Ginger, but it really pissed off Byron, and so she didn't come by again. Ivan stopped by too, but it was very, clear to him that I was uninterested and soon he stopped coming by too.

Eventually, I realized I was destined to spend my days and nights the same way, with Byron, Finnick and Annie. The only people in the District who could stand to be around, wounded, broken Epperly. The people who didn't flinch when my nightmares woke me up screaming.

That's how I lived my life up to the victory tour. That was a whole different kind of torture. Only Finnick and I went. It was horrible. I had to look into the faces of the families of children I had killed. I had to see Mar's sister. I had to meet Firth's parents. That particular meeting almost made me throw up. The only good part of the victory tour was meeting Johanna Mason, Firth's mentor.

She didn't hug me. She didn't congratulate me. Instead she towered over me, with the nastiest expression she could muster and told me point-blank. "If I wasn't him, I'm glad it was you."

"Thank you," I told her, "but I wish it was him." She gave Finnick and I a reproachful glance after that and left.

I got used to my life that. Living the half-life that comes with being a victor. Finnick told me when first got back to District Four that one day I would grow numb to it, and eventually I did. I had no choice.

I had to mentor two tributes with Finnick for the 73rd Games. I didn't want too, but Annie was still too unstable and Mags was getting too old. I knew both of the tributes, the girl was sixteen Mirabella Markham, a couple of years behind me in school. The boy was eighteen and friends with Byron, Sean Halliday. Both volunteers. Finnick told me we always have volunteers after someone in the district wins. He was right, both of the tributes idolized us. It was hell watching them in those Games, like reliving my own ones over and over. They ended up both dying in the top eight. We tried our best to keep them alive, but Finnick knew they were going to die. He told me they didn't have 'it'. That victor quality he saw in me. He said after enough Games I'd be able to recognize it in others. I hoped it never came to that point. That year, a boy from District Two won.

When it came time for the 74th Games, I really didn't want to go. It took me months to get over the trauma of the last one. But as Finnick reminded me, I had no choice. Even from the start of mentoring those Games, I knew something as different. From the moment, I saw the girl from Twelve, Katniss at the reaping, I knew.

Finnick and I were watching the recaps on the train. Our newly reaped volunteered tributes were only several feet away, watching the tv with wide, focused eyes.

"That's it right?" I ask Finnick as the girl volunteered for her sister. "She has the 'it' quality right?"

Finnick doesn't look away from the screen. "Yes," he nods. "She has it."

I watched those Games closer than I'd watched any other. Watching her and her district partner fall in love on the screen was horrifying. It hit far too close to home. I couldn't sleep at all during those Games without being haunted with nightmares full of memories of Firth.

When they both won, I almost went catatonic. They got the ending Firth and I never had a chance to have.

I just hoped they wouldn't waste it.