*A/N I have decided that an epilogue will be written. And possibly a whole sequel fanfiction. Thanks again for every person who is reading this.*
I woke up in the middle of the night. Not nightmares, just bleakness. I didn't feel anything. I felt like there was nothing left to look for in my life.
I felt the need to search for something, but I didn't know what. I sat up in my bed, remembering the stories I would tell Madge and Prim back home. Fairy tales. This was my fairy tale, wasn't it? So where was my happy ending?
I went to the roof, where I thought I would feel happier. I sat down on the edge and stared at the people below in the streets. Celebrating my win. Celebrating the slaughter of 22 children.
Was I supposed to be proud of myself? I couldn't shake myself awake, because I knew for certain this whole thing was a nightmare. I was only sleeping, and I would wake up in 12 with Madge next to me holding my hand. Asking me why I was screaming as I slept.
At least, that was what I prayed it was. I wanted everything just to be a bad dream. I wanted this to all be fake. I wanted to just go back to life the way it was. Painful but simple.
I pulled my hair to the side and started to braid it. I continued to stare at the people. I didn't understand them, and I wouldn't care to. Maybe understanding would mean agreeing.
Then I heard footsteps. I didn't move to hear him. The sooner I forgot him, the better. It was time to go separate ways. And I would rather leave him without a last word between us. Leave it at the interview where everything seemed okay.
"Hey, Ivy. Couldn't sleep either?" he asked, sitting down next to me. Habit, I'm guessing, made him grab my hand. My braid fell apart. I stared ahead, blankly.
Him grabbing my hand hadn't made me feel a thing.
"I don't feel like I've won anything," I explained. My voice sounded alien. I sounded… like a robot.
"We survived," he offered, trying to get me to look him in the face. I didn't allow myself to meet his gaze.
"Yes, but that's not winning. Winning would be stopping the Games completely," I said. Peeta pulled me up and moved me to the chimes area. I played all the chimes and turned back to him, my head facing down.
"But we can't stop them. It's... it's the Treaty of..."
"This coming from the boy who didn't want to change in the Games," I said with a small smirk, raising my head to his. I wasn't angry with Peeta.
"Ivy, I haven't changed. I'm merely being reasonable. We can't change what is set in motion," he said, grabbing my shoulders to try and make me somehow understand.
"I don't care if it's not possible. I just care that it's wrong," I fumed.
"I agree," Peeta replied. I sat down on the fake grass. He sat down next to me. I braided my hair again, trying to pass the time before we could leave on the train tomorrow and return home.
I had a piano I could play. I had a brother to make amends with. I had school to attend. Once I got home, all this could be forgotten. I turned to sneak a peek at Peeta. He was staring off in the distance.
"Do you feel different?" I asked.
"No. But I'm angry," he admitted.
"I keep hearing her voice. Asking me to sing," I whispered, more to myself than to him. I felt my voice heavy with guilt, and Peeta sensed it.
"It wasn't your fault," he said.
"I promised her."
"We all made promises we can't keep," he said, looking at his hands. I knew he was referencing his own. I just didn't want him to be. He was supposed to never leave me.
"What do we do now?" I asked him. He stared at me.
"We forget."
"But I don't want to..." I mumbled. I could see Peeta try and hide the shock on his face. I didn't know what I was doing. Why was I telling him the truth?
I had lost so much already; I just decided to lose my last friend too.
"Ivy... I..."
"It was all for the Games, all that you did. And I understand. But that doesn't mean you don't deserve to know the truth. I wasn't faking Peeta," I muttered softly. I couldn't bring myself to say the three words: I love you. That wouldn't be fair, to either of us, even though I had already learned that life wasn't ever fair.
"You know how I feel about..."
"Katniss," I answered for him. I turned away from him. After a couple minutes, I turned to him. I was hoping he would prove me wrong. Pull me in for another kiss, saying that it was not just for the Games. But that didn't happen. I stood up and started to walk away. Silently. I didn't want to have a last word between us. I never wanted one. I didn't want it to come to this. I never wanted him to know. Because rejection always hurts, even when you knew it was coming.
"Ivy!" Peeta said, standing up grabbing my hand, trying to get me to stop.
"Peeta, please let me go," I pleaded. I stole one last look at him eyes. They were sincerely apologetic. He let go of my hand. I didn't know I was crying until I tasted salt. I didn't want to run away, but I wanted to get away as fast as possible. But Peeta followed me. I cried.
"Ivy, before you leave. You're still my best friend," he said. I almost laughed at him. Did he honestly think friend-zoning me would make me feel better? My crying was becoming audible.
I needed to leave.
"Okay," I responded, walking away briskly. Peeta didn't follow me. I had the last word.
I ran into Haymitch as I tried to get to my room. He was waiting by the door, like he knew where I was and what was happening.
"Sweetheart," he said, "it's okay." I pushed past him and walked into my room.
I yelled at myself in my head for the rest of the night.
You could never compete with Katniss Everdeen. You are an annoying, stupid, little girl. Peeta does not want you. He never wanted you. You should've known better. No one will ever want you.
Why would you even think about telling him? What caused you to do that? You idiot. You're going to die regretting this. I bet you anything.
You've just created a living hell for yourself, Ivy. And you can never escape.
I couldn't tell myself to stop. All of it was true.
The next morning, we got on the train at dawn. We left and would arrive in District 12 in three days.
A camera crew would meet us in 12 for a quick victory video. Then they would leave.
I sat in my room for most of the first day on the train. I remembered my goodbyes I had with Cinna.
"Girl on fire!" he yelled.
I turned to face him before I boarded the train, "Cinna!"
"Don't forget this," he handed me my mockingjay pin. Seeing him handing me the pin was the first time I had smiled since the final interview. I had forgotten the pin.
"Cinna, I'm going to miss you." I needed Cinna. He was the one who listened. He knew how I felt about the Games and… death.
"I'll see you soon. Do not worry about that," Cinna said, smiling. I hugged him goodbye, and then I pinned the mockingjay to my shirt.
"I don't want to say goodbye," I said, my voice cracking.
"The Capitol is no place for you, Ivy. You know that. Go home," Cinna leaned in close and whispered, "Live."
I waved to him from the train until he was out of sight.
I stared at the pin, now sitting in my hands. The bird that survived against the odds. Me.
"Ivy? Come out at least for dinner!" Effie called. I knew how she got upset when she didn't get things her way, so I pinned the bird on my shirt and exited to room. Effie smiled when she saw me. She led me down the hall, chattering about how her Capitol friends couldn't stop talking about Peeta and me. Then, we reached the dining room. Peeta was already in here. I looked away from him and sat at the opposite side of the table from him, across from Haymitch.
"Train sick, sweetheart?" he asked me.
"Worse," I answered, a slight smile. I was trying to smile more, thinking about all the good things I still had.
Haymitch had called me sweetheart, just like old times. Old times. We weren't really older. But it felt like an age had come and past. And his silly name-calling was one thing surviving.
Haymitch threw me a roll and set a mug of hot chocolate in front of me. I dipped the roll in it and ate it. It was good. I tried not to show my delight, but I could almost see Peeta smirking out of the corner of my eye.
As soon as I could leave, I did.
I continued this routine the next day and the day after that. But right before we reached District 12, I got a knock on my door. Assuming it was Effie or Haymitch like usual, I opened it without asking who it was.
"Ivy, we need to talk," Peeta pleaded. I left the door open but walked to my room, facing away from him. "We can't go on like this, pretending we don't know each other. If we want to live, this has to be real!"
I turned to face him, "Has to be real?"
"Okay, bad choice of words. We have to... show affection..." he trailed off.
"Still a bad choice of words," I mumbled. I heard him laugh a little.
I turned back around. The sun was rising outside my window, making Peeta's hair shine. I thought about the creek, when he told me I was glowing.
Stop, Ivy. It's done. That's done.
I pushed past Peeta and stumbled through the train cars to reach the final car on the train. Where Peeta and I first became friends.
I sat down where I sat before, and Peeta came and sat next to me.
"We'll be in 12 soon, Ivy. Can we try and be friends?" he asked.
"To save your own skin?"
"To save us both!" he said loudly.
"Frankly, I don't really care if I'm saved or not," I hissed.
"Oh." He looked like he wanted to take my hand or grab my shoulders or do something like he used to, but he didn't. He was afraid of me. I realized my shoulders were really tense, so I let them relax. I realized what I said was harsh, and not true. I wanted to live, like Cinna told me to.
"Peeta, I'm not saying that I'll be like this to you in front of cameras," I said with a sigh.
"Oh, thank you, Ivy!"
"But, I don't know..."
"Oh," he said again.
I didn't know if I could be around him when I knew that he didn't return my feelings. I watched the sunrise with Peeta. No more words were exchanged. Then empty land turned into forests. I could see mines in the distance. I stood up and walked back towards the middle of the train. Peeta followed.
"We're close now! Remember, big smiles! Your district is waiting for you!" Effie cheered. She pushed us up to a door.
"One more time?" Peeta asked, offering his hand. He gave me a smile; I didn't return it to him. Regretfully, I took his hand.
"One more show. For them," I murmured. I still felt the tingling in my hand. And I was angry with myself for ever deciding to let go of Peeta.