Epilogue:

The show must go on

The show must go on

I'll face it with a grin

I'm never giving in

On with the show

I'll top the bill

I'll overkill

I have to find the will to carry on

On with the show

"You know you can't stay here."
"I know," I say quietly.

Troy just folds his arms. I've never seen him wear all white before. If I squint, I can pretend that he has angel wings spreading out from his back. But that's just silly.

"I don't want to go just yet."
"But you have to!"
"Just a few more minutes?"

"I think it's already been a few minutes already. It's kinda boring here too. Why don't you want to leave?"
"I'm scared."
"Of what?"

I just shrug. Or I think I do. I feel kinda...floaty. I don't know where I am, but it's so cool and peaceful and cozy. I don't want to leave. Here, nobody can get to me. I can just stay, chilling with Troy, who just watches me lie back and stare up at the bright light over our heads.

"Come on. Stop fooling around. You'll be fine."
"But..."
"I don't really know how to say this, but...you're really not supposed to be here right now..."

"Oh." Suddenly, I feel really chilly. "Guess I'll leave. Are you gonna stay?"
"There's nowhere else for me to go."
"When can I come back? I really wanna stay."

"Don't ask me. I don't have any clue. But I know you'll be back eventually."
"Will you stay here? Like, right here?"
"Here, in this spot?" Troy awkwardly rubs his shoulder. "Sure, if you want."

"Alright, then. Now what?"
"Just wake up."
"How?"
"What do you mean how? Just...wake up."

Wake. Up.

Something presses against my chest as a bunch of sparks fly through my body. Owwwww! I nearly curl upwards, grabbing the nearest hand. It's Cheyenne. Instantly, I let go. What that hell is she doing here!? Or...where the hell am I!?

Cheyenne elbows a guy wearing a blue shirt and a mask. "Alright, you did your job, now back off. She's alive."
"We need to check her vitals."
"You need to give her space."

The doctors all back away nervously and Cheyenne taps my shoulder. "How are you feeling?"
"Like absolute crap."
"Enjoy it now, because it's only gonna get worse from now on."

"What's going on? What are you doing here?"
"I'm here to congratulate you. You won."
A pang of guilt seeps into my chest. "What!?"

Cheyenne smirks. "Yeah, you caught a lucky break. So here's what I know. The Head Gamemaker ordered of both of you to be taken and operated on. I bet that whoever regained consciousness first would be declared the winner and they'd let the other die. But the girl from 2, they didn't even remove the machete, because she passed almost instantly. Or something; I wasn't there. But she died. Which meant you were the only one left, they prioritized saving you, and now you've won."

I won.

My head starts pounding again. Thankfully, Cheyenne is there to catch me before I tumble sideways off the operating table. "Woah! Seriously, you just got out of the Games! Can you stop trying to get yourself killed for like, five minutes?"
"Cheyenne, I don't care. I just wanna go home."
"I know, kid. I know."

"Oh hun!" When did Rhiannon get here? Has she been in the corner this whole time? "You're alive! I am so proud of you!"

She wraps me in a large hug and it feels so, so, so good. We both start crying and I think Cheyenne even contributes a single tear. It's over. I survived. Never again will I have to wake up in that arena fearing for my life. I can go home. I miss home so much.

"I hate to break up the whole reunion party, but there's still a lot do," Cheyenne tells us. "There's gonna be an interview tonight."
Another interview? Oh crap. "Do I have to?"
"Yep. Suck it up, kid. You're a Victor now. Nobody said a Victor's life was easy."

I gently peel back the sheet covering me and table, before lifting up the hospital gown I'm wearing. My stomach is covered in a patchwork of scars and stitches. That's when I realize that my right hand only has three fingers. Two of them are missing, leaving behind small stubs.

"My hand! What did they do to my hand!?"
"It's okay, hun!" Rhiannon gives me a nervous smile. "It's alright!"
"No, it's not! Look at it! They chopped off my fingers!"

Cheyenne rolls her eyes. "Because they couldn't save your fingers! Or else your whole hand would've been infected and they'd have to remove that instead. You don't want that, huh? Yeah, I thought so. I'm sure you'll get fake robot ones eventually."
"But...I don't want fake ones." I wipe away my tears with my good hand. "I didn't want them to..."

Rhiannon slowly rubs her hand along my back. "You know what? You're alive and that's the most important thing. You're safe. Come on, let's go get some dinner."

Dinner consist of sushi, little rolls of rice and fish wrapped in seaweed. My entire prep team is there (except for Diamond, thank goodness) and they all seem pretty happy to see me. I am too. And the food tastes good, but I'm not really hungry. But it's not a big deal anyways, since they're giving me noticeably less food than everyone else.

After dinner, Kanaya grabs my good hand. "Come on. We've got to get you ready."
"Is Diamond gonna be there?"
"Diamond had...a family emergency to take care of." Kanaya winks. "So lucky you, I'm in charge for tonight."

Kanaya shows off the dress that I'm going to wear. It's a lot longer and poofier, with a low neckline very short sleeves cleverly designed to cover up the large scar on my shoulder. Kanaya calls the dress itself a rose gold, but it's also decorated with large gold leaf chunks and sparkly sequins. And inside, there's a little extra padding around the stomach area, which makes it a little easier to slip into without tearing open my wounds for the third time.

"Kanaya, it's beautiful."
"We're not done yet. We've still got shoes and makeup to do."

After slipping on a pair of gold ballet flats, I let Kanaya do my makeup. She applies a little bit of bronze eye shadow, some light pink lip gloss, gold blush, then pulls my crimped hair back so it's all out of my face. "There we go. You look perfect."

I don't even need to check myself in the mirror to know Kanaya did a good job. I trust her.
"I think I'm ready now."
"In that case, I'll see you after it's all over."

I force a smile. All that's left is the interview. And who knows how painful it will be.

And it's worse than I could imagine.

The questions they ask me, as if I haven't left the arena less than 24 hours ago. As if I'm not waiting for replacement fingers, or have scars running all over my body, or that I killed two people. I'm a mess of guilt and nerves and I can't let it show. I'm their little trophy they can doll up and show off to the rest of Panem. I hate it.

Did Ethan and I have a blooming relationship? No, we didn't know each other for very long. Was Troy jealous? I can't imagine why he'd have any reason to feel that way. Did I harbour secret feelings for Troy? No, never! What happened between me and Whyllis? I try to steer around that question because I really don't want to talk about it.

Rewatching the Games is the worst part of it all. I don't want to relive it ever again. I don't want to see what horrible ways they've corrupted the footage they have, to make it seem like Troy, Ethan and I had some stupid love triangle between us or God knows what else. It's absolutely disrespectful. Neither of my allies would ever stand for this.

The Final 8 interviews are the worst part. My parents both sport red cheeks and bloodshot eyes, tears running down their cheeks. I've never seen my father cry before. Ever. They both plead for me to keep fighting and come home, words that I could never hear from the arena. Up until now, I've forced myself to sit through the whole recap.

Not here. I have to look away.

I can't do it.

The finale goes by a lot faster than I imagined. It didn't feel that quick to me. It felt like an eternity, lying there forever, slowly bleeding out and unable to do anything about it. And I just stare at my broken body. But somehow, I kept my shit together long enough to watch myself slowly die.

The screen goes dark for a bit, a cannon fires, then the final announcement is made as they zoom in on my exhausted face. "The Victor of the 20th Hunger Games is...Vera-Ryanna Kingsley!"

The audience begins to clap for me and I can finally relax; it will all be over soon. I just want to leave, to go home, to leave it all behind. I don't want to remember. I don't want these Games to be a part of who I am. But it's all too late for that now, isn't it?

The President is standing in front of me, holding a small golden crown. I force myself to hold eye contact as President Snow (who is not much older than me, imagine that!) slowly places it into my head. It's a very simple design, but in the middle of the crown is a ruby shaped like a burning flame.

Backstage, Rhiannon gives me another hug. "It's all over, hun. You can relax now. Ready to go to bed?"
"I just want this day to be over with."
"Not so fast." Kanaya pulls us apart. "You need to take off your makeup first."

I let Kanaya scrub my face clean. Some of the other Victors are here too, waiting to see the latest addition into their little club. They all politely keep their distance, except Royal Bauer, who pats me on the shoulder. I instantly pull back as the wound flares up again. He looks a little embarrassed, then has the audacity to actually smile at me.

"Not a bad win, kid. Two kills for someone your size is still pretty impressive."
"It was all dumb luck. That's what it was."

For a moment, Royal stops smiling. "Luck is the reason anyone becomes a Victor. None of us won by sheer skill alone. You just have to be in the right place at the right time."

"Amen brother," Cheyenne mutters under my breath as a few others laugh and I grin, for real this time. Maybe this whole Victor thing won't be so bad after all.

Well, now we know who the Victor of the Hunger Games actually is! But first, the remaining eulogies!

2nd place: Cindra Heath, District 2. Stabbed repeatedly by VR and bled out.

Yeah, like she was gonna survive getting impaled by a machete lmao. When I first received Cindra's form, I knew right away I was taking her all the way to the end for one glorious finale. I had such a spectacular cast of tributes who fell right into place but Cindra was the final piece of the puzzle. She was cast as the arena antagonist and she played her role perfectly. I know that a lot of readers weren't huge fans of her for killing seven tributes, but I loved to write her! She added so much to this story and I think this is the perfect end for her. SchroedingersKneazle, thank you so much for this amazing villain!

VICTOR: Vera-Ryanna Kingsley, District 10.

When I started this story, I knew that it was always going to be about VR's journey from tribute to Victor. But for me, it was less about her winning and more about what she had to go through to get to that point. She had to develop as a character and as a person and I think she's really changed from the girl who kicked this whole thing off back in Chapter 1. I was so worried that this story would get bombed with criticism and negative reviews and I'd never get the cast I needed, but I did and there was so many fun tributes for VR to interact with! She got to grow some really unique relationships with them, which influenced the Victor she became. VR started off as a shy, sensitive, emotion-driven teenager living in District 10, and it's crazy to see how much she's really changed after everything she's had to overcome.

The Games are over, the Victor has been crowned, and we're only a few chapters away from the end. Did VR's win surprise you? What was your favourite moment from the arena? How do you think VR's life in District 10 will change?

Anyways, shameless self plug for the sequel, which is dropping on the 1st of May! We're currently two chapters away from the end of this story and I'll see you all there!

-Vr