"You broke me first." - You Broke Me First by Tate McRae
A Poem of Swine and Wrath — 40th Annual Hunger Games
After the Games
Victor of the 40th Annual Hunger Games, Blest Rinear
I am laying in the bed, white sheets pulled to my chin. Next to me sits a monitor with chords slithering from the undercarriage. Every time I'm awake, I want to pull each one from my skin. Especially the one in my forearm, because it hurts the worst.
The food comes at the same time every day, but its never delicious, never tasteful, never chocolate. I gulp it down, still, greedily, slightly panicked I won't be fed again. I think about the last time I ate in the arena. It was the cookies. The chocolate the last thing I tasted on my lips before I came into this room.
They tell me I should sleep. But I don't try to. Because the first day I was here, I saw Halona. She was on top of me and the announcer was calling out her name instead of mine. I felt warm as the blood pooled from my stomach. I thought I'd died. The nurses reminded me I was fine, that I only pissed the sheets.
I move in the bed a little, adjusting the sheets, wondering when or if I'll be seeing anyone today. Harmony hasn't stopped by. Beauty assured me yesterday that it had nothing to do with me and everything to do with Malachite. Her husband's come up and they're mourning him together and in quiet.
Malachite, I think, wanting to pull the sheets over my head like some child. I have to watch him die again. I have to speak to Harmony about the cookies, about why I came back instead of her own son.
The door opens and I'm tempted to take my head out from under the blankets. I remind myself that it's probably one of the nurses, which means she's just stepping in to check on me. To make sure I'm not committing self injury or going insane.
"Blest."
I still.
The voice belongs to Harmony O'Neal.
I remove the sheets over my head, taking her in as she stands there. She doesn't appear sad, doesn't seem fragile like myself.
"Yes," I say.
"It's time," Harmony says quietly. "We'll be doing the interview tomorrow."
"And the crowning?" I ask. It was always my mother's favorite moment. She said there was something about witness the tribute's face as a crown was placed on their head. She'd said their eyes sparked and their smiles were contagious. But now, as I'm thinking about all the watch parties I've been to, I can't remember one where the tribute smiled while where the crown. Or at least smiled genuinely.
"Tomorrow, too," she says. She walks over to the bed and I hate that I instinctively shuffle to the other side of the bed, frightened that she's going to yell at me or scold me. She was always so hard and stern with Malachite.
"I'm sorry," I say. "I didn't mean."
"No," Harmony interrupts me. "You did nothing wrong. Rest." She steps back away from the bed. "We'll see you in the morning."
"Okay," I say.
"Okay," she says back before leaving the room.
I do not sleep. I do not do anything until Harmony and Beauty come the next morning. I tried to rest, tried to get the tube to release the cool liquid to knock me out, only to chicken out at the last minute. I'm scared of sleep, I realize. No, not sleep. The nightmares that accompany it.
A nurse walks in behind Beauty and Harmony.
"Give me one moment," she says to them. "Then she's all yours." She delicately undoes the chords, pulling needles and IVs from my skin, one after the other. I try not to flinch as she pulls them from under my skin, but it's useless. Everything, especially pain, feels magnified after the arena.
"There," says the nurse. "All ready."
Beauty steps up to the bed, leaving Harmony by the door. "Walking might be a little tricky."
I slide my legs to the corner of the bed, before planting my feet on the floor. When I stand, Beauty has to catch me because my legs go limp.
"You're fine," Beauty says. I look at him, taking in sharpness of his jaw. Suddenly, I feel guilty for calling him unattractive, for not really thinking him kind, when all he's done is show my kindness since I've been here.
Beauty helps me to the door and down the hallway to the elevator. Once inside, Harmony pushes the button, sending us upward.
"You'll be meeting with Emerald first," Harmony says. "I'll come and get you after."
"Okay," I say.
"Just remember to smile," Beauty adds. "And have fun."
The elevator doors open to reveal my stylist, Emerald, and my prep team. They squeal and jump and scream and I remember Beauty's advice so smile at the last moment. Emerald races towards me, embracing in a hug. Tears instantly flood my eyes, because I think this is the first time someone has touched me since the Games, this is the first time I've been hugged since killing Halona.
"Are you okay?" Mozart asks, a member of my prep team.
"You're hurting her!" says Mona, his sister.
Emerald jerks away. "Oh, dear!" She looks like she's going to cry. I wonder what it looks like when tears roll down the emeralds embezzled in her cheeks.
"Emerald!" Mozart scolds. "Too hard! You hugged her too hard!"
"No," I say, as Mona takes my hand. "I just missed you." The collective release an awe. "All of you, I mean."
"And we missed you, too!" Mona screams.
Then they're whisking me away, where I'm taking into a room. Mozart starts on skin, stripping me, placing me in a bath that's supposed to get rid of dead skin and put me back to base beauty zero. Mona starts on my hair. She pulls out dyes, insisting we go to a more honey color this time. I don't object. I don't fight any of them as they remake me. Painting my lips. Contouring angels and highlights into my face. Coloring and shading above eyes.
"Mona!" Mozart giggles. "The hair! It's beautiful."
"I know," she says. "Emerald suggested it."
"She's brilliant," Mozart says.
"And so are you," Mona says. "Look at her eyes. What's your secret? Tell me brother."
"A steady hand and an already beautiful face!" They laugh, and I force myself to smile.
"Would you like something to eat?" Mona asks.
"Yes!" I say quickly. They both stare at me. I laugh. "Yes, please. I've only had juice."
"That's why your stomach looks so flat."
"I was wondering," Mona adds.
I want to remind them that I starved in the arena, no doubt that's the reason I lost so much weight. It wasn't like being here or at home, where I steadily snacked and ate what I pleased.
"Let's get you a croissant," Mozart says.
"Yes!" I say
Emerald enters the room as I'm biting into a buttered croissant. I almost moan as I taste the sweetness of honey.
"Stunning," Emerald says. "Absolutely stunning."
She's carrying a small black bag.
"Let us see!" Mozart says. He reaches for the bag, but Emerald jerks it away, laughing. I attempt to ignore them as they run around the room, filled with excitement. I devour the croissant, hoping to have another, but Mona must have taken the tray away.
"Blest, come," Emerald says. She gestures me over towards the mirror. As I stand, Mona removes the thin gown, leaving me naked.
Emerald unzips the black bag, revealing an embellished satin mini dress. I swallow, seeing the shortness of the hem, of the low cut.
"The straps," Mona sighs. I take in the straps, seeing the small gold chains.
"Hurry, put it on!" Mozart rushes me.
Emerald helps me into the dress. The material slides up my waist, covering barely all of my breasts.
"Beautiful," Emerald says. She secures the golden chain straps over my shoulders.
"And not too short," Mona adds. I glance down, taking in the amount of inches the hem ends from my knees. I've never worn anything this short before.
"Now, for shoes!" Emerald sings. She pulls gold towering heels from the bag.
"Where. Did. You. Get. Those." Mozart says. "I need them."
"Over my dead body," I say, because I know I've been too quiet, too cold. They laugh and Emerald helps me into the shoes, which I can barely walk in, much less stand.
"Just count in your head," suggests Mona. "It's what I do."
"Okay," I say.
One, two, three, seven, fifteen; I count all the way to the elevator. Sixteen, twenty-four, thirty-five. Harmony is there. She's standing near the lift off ramp.
"Doesn't she look radiant!" Emerald says.
"Yes," Harmony says softly. She looks at me. "You look beautiful, Blest."
"Thank you," I say.
Then my prep team and stylist are leaving, and Harmony tells me she will see me soon, specifically, right after the interview, recap, and crowning ceremony. I stand there still, taking in the shouting of the crowd, reminding myself that I've done this before, that I was the girl who took the sapphires off of Orpah and replaced them with diamonds.
I breathe, waiting. The names of my prep team are called, followed by my stylist, then Harmony. The plate below my rises and I'm thrust into the lights. I smile, wobbling forward, eyes attempting to focus on the couches and Orpah. She's shimmering, I realize. From the diamonds or the lights, I don't know. But I move forward, counting.
One, five, nine, fifteen.
"Blest!" Orpah shouts.
"Orpah!" She wraps her arms around me, squeezing me. I try not to squirm, try not to think about the sweating on my forehead, as we break away.
"Oh, come, come," she points to the couch. "Have a seat!" She glances down at my shoes. "Oh, I love those."
"You can try them on," I say, voice shaking more than I'd like. Breathe, Blest. You're naturally charming, so just coast through this. You have it. Just think about it like the interviews.
Oh, they're too small!" Orpah shouts. "I know, I know, clown feet!" She laughs, pointing to her feet. I force myself to laugh, too, although I don't understand.
"Let's get to that recap!" Orpah says.
The screen behind me plays. We're on the reapings. I volunteer. Malachite volunteers. Slate and Lysandra are there, Tal and Brielle following after District 3. For the most part, I try to go somewhere else. I think about the croissant I ate, or the sound of Tal telling me to win, or even Beauty, I think about him telling me to just smile. And I smile, I smile, as Orpah chants and charms and criticizes through all the pregame entertainment.
Then we're on the Games, and I'm gripping the chair. I tell myself to relax, to breathe, but then it's starting. The boy from District 3 goes for District 9 instantly. Somehow, Nine gets the upper hand, killing him, only to be speared shortly after by Lysandra. The camera pans from Lysandra to me. I'm charging Halona and she's waking me, knocking me out cold. Lysandra is there again. She squares off with the girl from District 7 and Halona. Seven dies only for the camera to flash over to the boy from District 5 getting tossed into one of the bullant mounds. The ants are on him in seconds, eating him. Orpah screams, but I just blink. Once, twice, three times. Smile, I tell myself. Smile. The tears threaten to come as Malachite pulls me from the ground. As the girl from District 9 digs with a sword only to be stabbed by her ally and fed to the ants as well.
"Oh, Dox!" Orpah says. "I almost forgot about her!"
I smile. Just smile.
Slate goes down right after the bloodbath. I never knew that's how he died. I see Tal having to leave him behind, the brief moment of fear and frustration in his eyes as he runs back. We never really talked about Slate dying. It just sort of happened, I don't know. Then there's the girl from Six, who danced. She's getting passed by Dox, only to be speared by Brielle. Her district partner, the silent boy with the different colored eyes, goes down next. Then there's the red bark releasing from the tree and Lysandra is going down, Tal and Brielle leaving her.
The camera then pans between to Tal and I talking about Lysandra to her making it back to the Cornucopia. Part me is glad I never had to deal with Lysandra or Brielle. Both were already dead when I found Malachite, so I guess a part of me is interested to know what happened and how they at least died. District twelve dies next, with her district partner standing in the tree, screaming as Rapture kills her. I squirm at the thought of how I can relate with the boy. I watched Malachite die. So I get it. Watching someone you previously ate meals with die.
Woody dies after an assault on a bird. The camera zooms in on Malachite as he stays there, holding the boys hand as he twitches and shakes. A tear slides down my face then. Out of the corner of my eye, I look for Harmony.
Orpah must see the tear because she reaches over and pats my knee. "He was so strong," she says.
And it feels like an insult for her to conclude Malachite's entire life in a sentence. I think about what they would have said about me, if Malachite would have been the one who returned. "She was so bubbly. She was so beautiful. She was so cheery."
The camera pans off of Woody and to us, hunting. Brielle, Tal, and I are scouting the mountains. We come across District 8, with the boy barely escaping us. Tal spears the girl after light chase. There's less said about her between us, with Tal mumbling to himself. Then we're joking about Brielle. I'm calling her goat girl. It all seems like a different world. It all seems like a dream. Or maybe this is the nightmare and I'm still at the Capitol. We're still in training. We haven't entered the arena yet.
An avalanche comes. I find a rock, hiding behind it, taking shelter. Tal attempts to get to me, but is knocked down the slope. He rolls to the bottom, breaking his leg when it collides with a tree. The camera zooms back in on me hearing Tal scream. Tears flood my cheeks. I sit there, stunned. I was just laughing seconds ago. No, I'm crying.
The cameras bounce off of me and to Brielle and the boy from Ten. Briefly, they fight before more rocks come crashing down, crushing him.
The action doesn't slow down after the avalanche. Onyeka, the boy from District Eleven, runs into a bear, only for it to nearly maw him. He somehow runs into his district parter and they boy barely escape it's grip. The boy from District 12, Darroch, isn't as lucky. He's eaten alive.
"Darroch!" Orpah screams. I watch as she has to look away. She even takes a tissue and pats her eyes, wiping away the tears. Real tears.
Dox, Katya from District 5, and Halona are on the screens next. There's a brief cutback to me walking down the mountain to find Tal. I'm there, getting him up, attempting to move him to a better position. The camera cuts back from me helping, trying to heal my ally, to allies killing each other. Dox, bloodied and beaten, stabs Katya in a last attempt to fight. Katya dies, leaving Halona to club Dox. I jerk at the club connecting, denting her skull.
If she'd only hit me harder, I think. If she only hit me harder, I would have been like Dox. Dead. Not here. But I am here. And I'm on the screen, helping Talcott with his leg, feeding him, making him laugh.
The screen flips from me and Talcott back to Lysandra and Malachite at the Cornucopia. They talk about us. Lysandra tells him that we're dead and he believes her. When Brielle arrives, she pins the killing on her, and the two plot to take her down. I wait, silently, wondering if Malachite killed Brielle and Lysandra both. Surely, he did. He'd have to.
When Brielle comes out, they strike. Malachite gets a sponsor gift of knives, no doubt from his mother, who I struggle to swallow the envy. I wonder if that's why she couldn't save him. Because she'd spent all our funds on the knives.
Brielle gets cornered. She's beaten down, taking a knife along with several other injuries. Brielle screams "Traitor!" at him, which causes him to throw the knife at Lysandra instead of her. Brielle and Malachite almost square off, but both eventually flee the scene, leaving Lysandra to die alone.
The camera pans between Halona now and the boy from District 8, Harland. Both do nothing, until Harland runs into the bear. He's luckier than Darroch, escaping with his life. Then the camera's are on me and Tal. It's the scene with the mutt hounds and we're fighting. I push him up into the tree, grabbing his butt.
Orpah screams with laughter. "That was my favorite!" she yells. "Absolute favorite!" Then she's panting her eyes with anther tissue. "Oh, poor Talcott."
Talcott, I think. Tears fall down my cheeks before I can stop them. But unlike Orpah, I don't wish to wipe them away.
Halona runs into Brielle. The two square off, but with Brielle nursing several wounds and struggling to hold her spear, Halona kills her. Halona takes her shield, leaving her to the snow. The camera pans back to me. I'm with Tal. We're in the tree, talking, our last night together before he's killed. Then we're climbing down. The camera pans to Rapture and Onyeka having a conversation. It feels cut short though, before the camera flashes back to Harland and getting chased by the bear. Malachite somehow comes into the trap and the bear leaves Harland in the tree and pursues him instead.
"No!" I accidentally yell out.
Orpah looks at. I still myself, messing with my hair, thinking to wipe my eyes. But then I'm looking at Malachite running. Then I'm watching Tal and I in the woods, the swine coming. No, I think. No, no, no, no. This is what I've been dreading.
"Tal! Behind you!" I'm screaming. The swine is on him, skewing him. He spits out blood, only to scream for me to run. And I run. The camera pans between Malachite and I both running.
Tears flood my cheeks. Orpah gives me her tissue.
"There, there," she says. "We all know how hard this is for you."
Malachite is killed by the bear next. It leaves me numb. The cookies come and Malachite dies. I think I blackout after that. Because I'm at the feast, killing Rapture Rose, who Orpah screams was the wild cart that almost took her money. Harland goes down by Onyeka, who despite how far he's made it, doesn't get much coverage. Not like Halona or myself do.
I kill Onyeka next. It's sad that I barely remember throwing the knife, that I barely remember him when there's so much more in my head from the games. Fighting Halona. The avalanche. Killing swine. Killing Rapture. Watching Tal and Mal both die.
The crowd is standing and clapping when I take down Halona. We fight, but it's me who comes out on top. I'm pulling back the shield and stabbing her, once, twice, again, until she's down. The camera zooms in on my face, capturing the tears, the chocolate smeared across my lips, and the cracked lips, the wide eyes. I look deranged and disgusting.
Then the screen goes black. And Orpah is having me stand. On my feet, I want to adjust the hem of my skirt, to yank it down closer to the knees, but its so tight, too tight.
President Snow enters the stage next. He's holding the crown on a pillow. My crown, the symbolism of my victory, of my triumph. But when he smiles, a smile not touching his eyes, I suddenly feel more victim than victor. I suddenly think about the crying, the conversations with Mal and Tal, the weaknesses that about up stood my strengths.
"The Capitol thanks you for your bravery," he says. "Your courage." He takes my hand. "Our victor, Miss Blest Rinear of District One."
The crowd goes wild, screaming, chanting, tossing roses in my direction. Some hit near my feet, but most land behind me completely, or on the outskirts of the stage.
President Snow takes me hand, one last time, then he even escorts me off the stage. Orpah cuts of the show with, "Tune in tomorrow! When we have Blest back for a more personal interview!" I'm walking, not counting my steps, not focusing on how cold the president's hand is. "We'll talk Mal! And Tal! And all things juicy! See you soon!"
Harmony and Beauty are there, standing, almost waiting for my delivery into their arms.
"Harmony," President Snow begins. "I want to apologize for your loss personally."
Harmony nods her head. Beauty takes my hand.
"Beauty," President Snow says. "Lovely nose. Is it new?"
Beauty smiles, and it reminds me of my own.
"Yes," Beauty says.
President Snow smiles, lets go of my hand, then exits, followed by a squad of peacekeepers.
At his departure, the three of us exhale.
"Come along," Harmony says, voice refined and cold. Beauty extends out a hand and I take it, thankful.
"Let's get you out of that towel," he says. And I laugh, actually laugh. The foreign noise stings my throat.
We walk to the elevator. Harmony taking lead with Beauty and I behind her. Right before we enter, Beauty stops. He looks at me.
"Don't lose yourself," he says. "It's easy to do, I know. But don't. Fight to come back."
Harmony steps into the elevator.
"We're victors," she says to me. "We're lucky to be alive."
"I don't feel lucky," I say. "I feel lost."
Beauty helps me into the elevator. I stand there, and to my surprise, Harmony takes my hand. "You're not alone," she says.
A tear slips down my cheek as we ascend upward.
The personal interview with Orpah brings more tears. Beauty and Harmony both tell me that it's okay to let myself weep, that the crowd will almost expect it, empathize with it even. Still, I'm thankful for the cookies that Orpah sits out. I loose count after the sixth one I have. Orpah eats only one, says something about her gut growing already, then sits back.
"Tell us about that conversation with Tal," she says.
"Which one?" I ask.
Orpah looks at the audience. "Which one?" she asks teasingly. The audience feeds on it, laughing. I try to act innocent, remembering my role in this. I flutter my eyes, before smiling my broadest smiles. It helps that Emerald wiped some scream on my lips. It's supposed to make smiling easier, more natural.
"When you were in the trees," she says. "Tell us about that. About that beautiful moment where you bonded as friends."
"He was easy to talk to," I say. Part of me doesn't want them to know about my relationship with Tal. I don't want to explain our friendship. I don't want to relief his death and his memory. I just want to eat the cookies. I just want to leave for the trains.
"Oh, I remember his interview," she says. She smiles again for the audience. Again, I try to mirror her smile. "But tell us more. We crave the details."
"He made me laugh," I continue, trying. "He made the arena less lonely. Less scary and sad." I don't know what to else to say after that. I don't know what's meant to be private and what's supposed be public anymore. I don't know what they want from me. Beauty and Harmony said to smile and cry and answer their questions. But I don't want to do this anymore. I don't want to talk about Tal like he's still here. Like he wasn't eaten by some smile. I don't want to talk about Mal being brave and having Harmony hear about her dead son, about how I couldn't save him from the bear.
This life. This victory. Its like drinking down chunky, soured milk. And I want to spit it all back up. But I can't.
So, I sit there. I answer the questions with smiles, with flirtatious giggles, with whatever Orpah needs from me. I imagine I'm back at one of the viewing parties. I picture my mother and father in the audience. I picture food getting rewarded if I say all the right lines. I do whatever I can, say whatever seems to be the right response. And I think its enough because Orpah beams, saying we'll see me soon at the Victory Tour.
After my personal interview, I'm wicked away by Emerald and taken to an after party. Their are people there, sponsors, who Harmony and Beauty tell me to thank. Harmony points out a woman with neon long braids who helped sponsor the cookies for me. I show my thanks by getting a picture together and by promising I'll spend an afternoon with her son. He loves the game checkers, she says. Beauty pulls me away before we get the chance to talk much more, saying I have others to give attention to.
"Don't do that," he says.
"Do what?" I ask.
"Promise afternoons," he says. "Or mornings, or nights." He continues. "Don't promise to see them. Don't make time for them."
"Okay," I say, confused.
"Listen to me," Beauty turns to me, eyes piercing into me. "Don't ever say yes. To anything. I'm serious." He glances down. "Because a yes costs you here." He touches his nose and I wonder if that's what he means. Was his nose a yes to someone? I try to think about what Beauty looked like before his Games, and I can't.
"Are we ready?" Harmony comes over. Her makeup looks newly contoured. Behind her, I see Emerald. Her eyes have been running and she's patting her cheeks with a handkerchief. Why is she crying?
"Yes," Beauty says for me. They go to usher me forward. I look around, wanting to stay if only to try more soups and pastries and pastas. But I'm being lead over to the elevator. People wave me goodbye and I mirror back the gestures. I smile, but I feel so removed. I feel so numb.
When I'm inside, it hits me I'm not the same girl these people rooted for, these people purchased cookies for, these people believe I am.
I thought I'd be a strawberry dipped in chocolate. But what if that's not the case?
We ascend and Harmony walks me to my room. In the darkness, I hear the sniffling slightly, the breaking of a mask I thought previously unbreakable. I remember holding Malachite's hand. I remember talking about chocolate chip cookies. And then I'm reaching out, grabbing Harmony's hand, squeezing it. The sobs come then. From a mother, not a mentor. And I stand there, chills rippling my skin, listening, absorbing the sobs that for once aren't my own.
For the majority part of the train ride home, I think of Harmony crying, I think of the dreams I had last night. I couldn't fight it any more. Last night, I slept. And to my surprise, I didn't have nightmares. I just dreamed of Mal. We were on the roof again. He'd pulled a daffodil from the garden and told me to make a wish. I'd laughed. Then I blew.
"What'd you wish for?" He'd asked.
I'd woke up knowing the answer. I'd wished him back. I'd wished he wasn't dead.
"Coffee?" Beauty asks. He sits next to me, curled up a plush red chair, a purple pillow stuffed behind him.
"Yes," I say. "With cream and sugar." The avox smiles at me, nods her head. "Oh," I add as she turns away. "And can I have a pastry?" She smiles wider, remembering me, I guess, from my last train ride. I'd been the girl who ate two large croissants, covered in blueberry jam and honey.
She turns away and walks to the back of the cart.
"Glad you're sleeping," Beauty remarks.
"I'm not," I say before thinking.
He laughs. "They'll go away. Just give it time."
The avox returns with a plate of cinnamon buns. I smile instantly, taking in the white icing, the brown color of cinnamon.
"One day, I'm going to find someone who looks at me like you do those cinnamon buns," Beauty says, laughing. "Mark my words, Miss Rinear."
"You want to get married?" I asked, slightly shocked.
"You sound surprised," he says. "Why?"
"You just don't seem like the type," I say. I try not to compare him to the older men who attend my mother's viewing parties, who I thought Beauty was similar to because of the his cockiness, his confidence, his way with words and with charm.
"Who wants to settle down," he says. I take a cinnamon bun and shove it in my mouth. I didn't expect to have a conversation like this with Beauty. "If you'd asked me two years ago, I would have said hell no." He moves in the chair slightly, adjusting. I take a sip of coffee to wash down the chewed up bun. Beauty smiles. "You really love food, don't you?"
"And you really love to talk, don't you?" I say back. Then I feel guilty for using the similar tone I did with Talcott, with Mal.
But Beauty laughs. "There she is?"
"There who is?" I ask.
"The Blest Rinear we're all rooting for to come back," he says smoothly.
Harmony enters the cart. "We're almost to One. Look presentable."
I adjust the emerald gown Emerald gave to me as a parting gift. "Think of me, will you!" she said, kissing me, squeezing me, and I promised I would wear it.
"We might should stand," says Beauty. Harmony moves in beside us, closer to the windows. I know what to expect next. I was once there, waiting for Beauty to return, wanting to wave and chant the newest District 1 Victor's name.
The train eases into the station. I move to the window, smiling, taking in the faces. A few I recognize from the academy. There's some of the girls I beat out for volunteering. There's the next class of volunteer candidates, Blush, Ivory, Flutter. One of them will be the girl I mentor.
"After you," Beauty says.
We walk towards the door and are immediately met by cameras and reporters. I keep smiling, keep walking, counting my steps. The other Victors are there. Glamora, Jet, Shine, and Luster. Luster steps forward, black hair slicked back, wanting to hand me a glass filled with white liquid.
"Victory shot!" he says, shoving it to me. "Now, turn." He turns me. The cameras flash. I take the shot, coughing, nearly spitting it out as a burning slithers down my throat.
"What was that?" I ask.
"White liquor," he says. "Were you expecting water?" He nudges me. "Come on, you're a victor now." He smiles. Brushes back his dark hair. The camera's gobble him up.
Shine, another victor I'm familiar with, moves in. She's beautiful. Dark skin glowing in the sun.
"Follow me," she says. She smiles and waves. I look behind me to see if Beauty and Harmony are there, but they're taking pictures, too. The cameras approaching them, swarming them, as we try to make it out of the station.
The crowd is just as wild as the camera man. People scream at me. Some I don't know personally, others I've known since childhood. There's all the women and men who attend my parent's viewing parties. Then there's their children. Then there's my parents. My mother running towards me, nearly shoving Shine out of the way so she can get to me. She embraces me, and just for a second, I tell myself that this is real. That this hug isn't the for cameras. That it's filled with compassion and love and understanding, and I don't have to be happy. I don't have to be her smiling and successful daughter the victor.
My father comes in later, wrapping his arms around the both of us. My mother squirms at this point to get lose. But my father keeps us together until he can't any longer.
"We missed you!" My mother screams. Cameras make their way back to us, flashing.
"I missed you, too," I say.
"We've prepared your favorites," adds my father.
Then he's grabbing my hand and my mother is by my side. I try to smile as the camera's flash, but I'm not happy to be here with them. They're the ones who tricked me into coming to begin with. They're the ones who wanted this life for me. For me now to realize how empty it is.
I look back, wishing to see Beauty and Harmony, but can't find them. I let out a sigh as they pull me into the closest car. My mother grabs my hand, holding it, as someone slams the door. I should be happy she's being affectionate, but all I can think about is how I wish I was back on the train, eating cinnamon buns, talking with Beauty.
He'd even said he'd saw the old Blest coming back. I swallow down the nerves, the thoughts,the anxiety and fear; all of it that comes with being back home, with proceeding with what happens next. Moving into the victor's village. Having my parents watch my own Games at a viewing party. It feels overwhelming.
Plus, I just want my old self back. And Beauty saw that. He saw her. So it gives me hope that I can still be the old me. I can still be that strawberry dipped in chocolate.
My mother moves around our new living room. It's twice the size of the one in our old home. I stand there, taking in the sight, the platter of foods, the large television that's centered into the middle of the room. The smell of bunt hot chocolate wafts into the room. My father must be smoking in the kitchen.
"You look beautiful," my mother says, but she's not looking at me. She's adjusting the white roses in the crystalized glass bowl.
"Thank you," I say. I move out of the living room and towards the front door. I open it, relishing the warmth, before stepping out into the yard. I kick off my heels at the steps, wanting the long grass to tickle my toes. And when it does, slithering between my toes, I take a deep breath. It's been a week, but it feels more like a year. With the moving, the nightly visits from all the "friends", and the scheduling with Glamora for my new mentoring duties, along with the academy training schedule.
"Hey, stranger."
I turn around to see Beauty standing in his yard, shirtless.
"Why are you shirtless?" I ask.
"To upset your mother," he says. "Or to find a wife. Really, it's all up in the air."
It's weird, but Beauty and I talk more and more. I feel guilty for comparing our friendship to the one I had with Tal and Mal, but I'm also grateful for just someone who I can laugh around again.
"Go put on a shirt," I say. He frowns. "Or at least do more crunches." I glance down at his lean frame and he laughs.
A car pulls up, the tires rumbling, the chattering of women bursting through the window. I sigh. The first of my parent's guests have arrived. I tell myself to swallow down the dryness in my throat, because I'm already annoyed, angry, frustrated, nervous. I don't know, but I wish I could stay outside with Beauty instead of going back inside.
"Are you coming to the party?" I ask, hoping to distract myself from the bubbling of emotions swarming inside my head.
"I think I'll pass," he says.
"How are you going to find a wife with that attitude?" I ask. The people in the car begin to walk closer, spotting me. I want to hop the fence over into Beauty's yard. I think about it, but I don't know if I could clear it without ripping my dress.
"Forever alone then, I suppose," he says. He walks over to the fence, closer. "How are you doing?" he asks softly.
"Fine," I say.
"Fine isn't an answer," he says. He moves closer and so do I. "Are the nightmares still bad?"
"Yes," I say honestly.
"Do you like to read?" he asks suddenly.
I laugh. "No."
"Oh," he says. "Never mind then."
"No, what?" I ask.
"I was going to suggest you put a book by your bed," he says. "It's what I did. When I used to have them. I'd wake up and read for a little while. It calmed me."
"And what books did you read?" I ask.
"Whatever," he says. "I'm not picky."
"That's hard to believe," I say.
"I guess I'm like you with food then," he says.
I laugh. "Ouch."
"You eat anything. I read anything," he says. "Seems we're quite the pair."
"Blest!" My mother yells. Beauty smiles at me, but it feels different now. Now that he's said the word pair.
I turn back around to face my mother. "I made cookies!" she calls.
"Oh, you better hurry," Beauty says.
"Hush," I say back.
"Chocolate chip," she continues. "You're favorite."
Mal's favorite she means. A sickness forms in my stomach and I reach out and touch the fence post. My head pounds and I think to just turn and run, to go and find somewhere quite, away from this night, away from the thoughts of Mal and the Games and me winning. I hated the silence before I left. Now, all I want is to be around it. . .
"I can come," Beauty says. "If it'll help."
"No," I say. Because I can't depend on him to be strong, like I did with Mal in the beginning of the Games. No, I'm still the girl who faced night hounds and swines, so I can face this. I can face the memories. The nightmares. The false people. My mother.
It hits me, suddenly, like a gust of wind. I didn't survive one hell to simply go back into living a second.
"You sure?" he asks. "I don't mind. Seriously."
"I need to do something," I say. The plan forming. And it might be the most impulsive thing I've ever done, but its long overdo.
I take up my dress and march back inside, the plan already in motion. I take the tray of cookies from my mother and before I can stop the nerve, before I can really let her criticism get in my head, I'm tossing to at the television. The tray smashes into the screen, the cookies flying everywhere. My mother screams behind me.
"Blest!" she screams. "What did you do? The party! Everyone is on their way!"
"No party," I say. "No more watch parties." I continue, feeling everything. I focus in on my mother. I think of Mal. I think of Halona. I think of Tal and Brielle and even Lysandra, who would have probably loved the attention. "This is my house, and I say no."
"What?" my mother asks. "I'm confused. What's wrong?"
"No," I continue, stating my ground. "I'm not watching it. I'm not reliving that hell for your entertainment."
"Blest." My father walks in, bringing in the stench of smoke.
"And no smoking!" I yell. Anger pulsing through me. "This is my house. My rules. You're guests."
"We're your parents!" my mother yells back.
I look at her. "You're guests." Then I'm walking closer. She sizes me up. And before the arena, I would have taken the tray of cookies and sat down. I would have watched and laughed and gossiped. I would have done everything that my mother and father asked. But not anymore. "And if you don't like it, leave."
"You're going to kick out your own parents?" my mother asks.
"My parents haven't really ever been parents," I say. Everything from the last eighteen years comes to air. I feel like a bottle of champagne that's been popped and now it's flooding out, covering my hands, the floor; everything. "More like coaches. Or investors. Or even friends."
"You ungrateful-" she begins.
"No," I say. "You don't get to be the vicim." I step even closer. Her breath smells of wine. "Not when I know what its like to be a victim."
"You're no victim!" She spits. "You're a victor."
I laugh. "You really have no idea, do you?"
"What's wrong Blest?" my father tries to come in. "This isn't you."
"Blest," I turn around to see Harmony standing there. Beauty hovers behind her. They must have heard the noise. "Maybe you should take a walk. Cool down."
"No," I say, turning back to my mother. "They deserve to understand. They need to understand that this is more than a game." The tears suddenly start to come. "They need to understand what it took from me."
"They won't," Harmony says. She places a hand on my shoulder. "Even I didn't get it until this year." Her hand squeezes my shoulder. "Let's take a walk."
"Okay," I say. I turn around and Harmony is escorting me, with Beauty coming up on the other side. Briefly, his hand brushes mind as we walk out the door.
The first time I've seen my parents since walking out the door is at the train station. My mother and father stand there, smiling, waving, blowing me kisses as I start the Victory Tour. I glance over at my mother, who I haven't spoke a word to in six months. That night, when I returned from walking with Beauty and Harmony, they were gone. Bags packed. Not even a note. A part of me allowed myself to cry because of the loneliness that suddenly fell down on me. There was another part of me, though, that felt relieved, so I went over to the table and made myself a plate of brownies, cookies, and fruit.
"We love you!" My mother chants. "We're so proud of you!" I see the cameras zoom in on her. The Capitol men and women in their bug like camera suits zooming around, trying to catch the sentiments of a mother on air. I wave and smile and even blow her a kiss, but I don't say anything back. These last six months have taught me something about my parents. . .they can't control me anymore. And despite what they thought my future should be, I'm the one who decides what it will be.
I wave one last goodbye before entering into the train. When I enter the cart, I'm surprised by the number of people inside. I was expecting just Harmony, maybe Beauty, but not this.
Glamora turns to me. "Surprise!"
I smile. "It's not my birthday." I look around the room, spotting Luster, Shine, Beauty, and Harmony. Jett, one of the older victors who won before I was born, isn't there.
"We know, silly," Glamora smiles. Her blonde hair is grey at the roots. It reminds me of the snow in the arena and how the snow layered around the golden flower's stems. "We just thought we'd joined you." She looks over to Luster, who takes up a bottle. "Its sort of customary around here." Luster takes a swig from the bottle, passing it to Shine, who downs it, too. She doesn't even flinch afterwards. She just smiles brightly, waving at me, too, when she notices we're locking eyes. Will I be like Shine? I wonder. Out of all the victors, we're the most similar, I think. She's energetic. Friendly. Laughs at about everything said. But there's also this emptiness that I find in her eyes sometimes, like right after she's laughed or right before she smiles.
"Here you go," says Beauty. He hands me the bottle. "Drink up."
I take a swig, barely letting any of the contents hit my tongue, though. They all cheer, except Harmony, who sits in the chair, watching the window. I see her husband standing there, looking back at her. He's crying. Then the train is starting off and we're out of the station. I can't help thinking of Malachite and all the other parents that I'll be see crying because their children are dead. It makes me sick to my stomach, but I attempt to ignore it, focusing on my surroundings instead. Everyone around me laughs, takes a few more sips from their glasses, all while my head seems to keep spinning with the memories. Woody's foaming from the mouth. Dox with the bashed in skull. The boy from Five getting eaten alive by ants.
"Blest," Beauty says. He's beside me now. I notice how much drink he has left in his glass. I exhale before taking another sip of my own. Surely, someone will say something if I'm the only person not drinking. "Hey, you okay?"
"I'm fine," I say, smiling. Luster comes over, carrying the bottle, already stumbling.
"Have some more," Luster says.
"I'm good," Beauty says.
"Party Pooper." Luster laughs. "I liked you better before." He rolls his eyes.
"I liked me better, too," Beauty says back.
Luster frowns. "Don't turn into him, Blest. He's all business these days." He takes a swing from the bottle. "A shame, really. Shine!" He turns to Shine, who somehow has managed to inch to the corner of the room. "Where do you think you're going? We're drinking!" Shine smiles, but I can tell its forced. I wonder if she wants to be here. I wonder if all of us are wearing a mask because we're supposed to love this. The fame. The food. The fortune.
"Come on," Beauty says. I look back at him. He walks to the door. I turn back, watching Luster, Shine, and Glamora take turns sipping from the bottle. Harmony is nowhere in sight, either.
"Okay," I say, but Beauty has already left. Quickly, I dash out of the room, before anyone gets the chance to tell me to come back.
Beauty is standing in a room, a large blush couch sectional taking up the majority of it. There's a small wooden table topped with a plate of vibrant fruits and vegetables along with a glass of sunflowers.
A door across from me opens and Harmony comes walking in, holding a tray of cookies.
"They thought it symbolic," she says. She walks over a places the tray of chocolate chip cookies on the table.
"Sorry," I say.
"It's not your fault," Harmony says. She picks up a cookie and bites into it.
I walk over and have a sit. The couch is soft. I rub my hands over the cushion, taking in the cool, letting my sweat smear on it.
"I think Malachite would like this," Harmony says. Then suddenly she smiles. "Me eating a cookie, I mean."
I smile. Beauty comes over and has a seat next to me.
"I haven't had one in years," Harmony says. She takes another. "Now, I get it."
I take a cookie myself and bite into it. And its weird, how eating cookies with the two people who saved me makes me feel whole. More whole than I've felt in the last six months.
Harmony leaves after devouring about four cookies. She leaves the rest for Beauty and me. When we've eaten half of the platter, Beauty asks an avox for two cups of hot chocolate.
"Extra cream, please," I add.
He laughs. "Really? It isn't sweet enough."
"Hardly," I say. I take a cookie, biting into it and ignoring the crumbs scattering my dress.
Beauty pulls out a small brown book from his pocket.
"Really? You're going to read."
"It distracts me," he says.
"From what?" I ask.
"All this," he says. "The Games. How much time I've spent on this train already."
"Oh," I say, and because a part of me is selfish and not wanting to be left alone with my own thoughts, I ask. "Can I ask you something?"
Beauty looks at me. "Depends."
"About your Games?" I continue. His lip tightens. "I mean, if that's okay."
"I don't usually talk about my Games," he says. "But I'll make an exception. For you. Once."
"Do you ever think about her?" I ask.
"Who?" he asks. "That's been lots of hers in my life."
"Emerella."
"Sometimes," he says quickly. "Sometimes, I think about her a lot. Like, I'll see a girl with her color hair back home and think, 'Oh, there's Em.""
"Were you close?"
"Yes," he says. "We were neighbors strangely."
"Did you love her?" I ask. I slap my hand over my mouth. The cookie flies out of my hand. "I'm sorry."
Beauty just laughs. "Like a sister," he says. "She was like a sister. I'm an only child."
"I'm sorry," I say. "That was prying."
"It's fine," he says. "The Capitol tried to paint it as a romance, too." The avox comes in with the hot chocolates.
"Thank you," Beauty says.
The avox nods her head. She hands off Beauty's to him first, then gives me mine next.
"Luster was on board with it, too," he continues. "He thought it'd boost his own name, though."
"Luster was your mentor?" I ask. For some reason, I thought Jett was the one who brought Beauty home.
"Not really," he says. "Luster spent the majority of my time in the Capitol with visitors."
"So who mentored you?" I ask.
"Harmony," he says. "She mentored Emerella and me together."
"She's good at that," I say.
"She wasn't with you," he says. He scoots closer, voice softer. "She shouldn't have mentored this year. Not with Mal as a tribute. Shine volunteered to take her place. But she wouldn't have it."
"She was determined to bring him home," I say.
He looks down. I take a sip from my hot chocolate.
"I think she feels guilty," Beauty says. "For focusing our resources on him instead of you."
"He's her son," I say. I take another sip of hot chocolate to drown down the pain. It hurts to hear that I wasn't there first choice to bring home.
"It doesn't matter," Beauty says. "She didn't do her job."
"She kind of did," I say. "I'm here."
"You're here because of what you did," Beauty says. "Not because of us."
"Right," I say.
"Don't forget that," Beauty says. He sits back, takes a sip of hot chocolate. When he smiles at me, I smile back, easy, like I did with Tal and Mal. "Now, can I read?"
"Fine," I say. I take a cookie and dunk it into my hot chocolate. "But only if you read aloud."
Beauty exhales. "Fine."
The Victory Tour starts of with District 12, which I'm thankful for. I didn't encounter the girl or the boy in the arena, so my speech feels more removed, like I'm addressing the families of strangers. Well, the family of the boy from District 12, Darroch. A middle aged woman stands there, along with a man. They don't speak, but the woman cries through my entire speech. The man holds his hat, squeezing it, shaking his head, while the Darroch's mother sobs loudly. The girl, Bex, doesn't have anyone on her stage. No mother. No father. No siblings. It almost makes her forgettable.
District 11 is harder to process through, but I'm determined not to tear up. I killed both of the tributes, personally, taking them from their families. Rapture's platform stage is filled with siblings. Behind them, the mother and father appear run down, more wrinkles than anything else.
"I didn't know Rapture," I say. "Well, not personally. But I saw that she was a fighter." I try not to fumble over my words. "And I hope to be like her in that way. A fighter, I mean." I shuffle the cards, swallow down hard. "Thank you for your kindness, District Eleven."
There's less to say about Onyeka Kaiis, whose platform is empty much like the girl from Twelve, Bex.
District Ten is nightmare. Halona was so close to coming home. When I speak, I struggle to look at her mother, a woman with a hard face and a cane. I see where Halona got her fight from. Her spirit. And have to look somewhere else, because its too much staring at the woman whose daughter I killed to get here. Halona's father seems more in the distance, playing the background. Her district partner, Bert, family stands there, still and silent. The mother and father placing their hands on his two younger sister's shoulders.
I look down at the cards after taking my eyes off the family. I want to say something, should say something about Halona, but I didn't know her and she almost killed me twice. I look back up to her family, the mother meeting my stare. I bet she hates me. I would hate me.
"Halona was an honorable adversary." I read from the card. "She will be remembered by me, the Capitol, and specifically her district, for her fight and her courage in the Fortieth Annual Hunger Games." I shuffle the cards again, read through Bert's section of the speech, and have just enough time to get back into the train before I'm losing it, tears flooding down my face.
I turn down a hallway as soon as I enter the train. Behind me, I hear the sound of Luster and Glamora. They'll wonder why I didn't come in after the festivities. But I don't care. I don't know how to be in District Ten. I don't know how to speak to the mother like I'm not the girl who murdered her daughter.
What do you even say? What am I supposed to do? Eat their food. Laugh at their jokes. I never thought about this before. I never saw how bitter this cup was. I just wanted to drink from it.
"Blest," Harmony says. "We still have dinner with the mayor."
"I know," I say. I wipe away the tears, but they won't stop coming.
"Just breathe," she says.
I take her advice, exhaling, inhaling, and it helps.
"You're going to be okay," she says.
"What if I'm not okay, though?" I say back to her. I say it to the wall because I can't say it to her face.
"Then that's okay, too," she says.
"Is it?" I say.
"I believe so," she says. She touches my shoulder. And after she laughs, low, light, she adds, "I'm not okay. But I'm here. I'm standing. Breathing." She squeezes my shoulder. "We just have to take this new life a day at a time."
"Okay," I say. I wipe at my eyes, harder, faster. "Okay."
Districts 9, 8, and 7 are a blur. Woody is the only one I really knew. His stage, like so many of the others, though, is bare. No family. Or at least no immediate family. There are kids standing around his platform—they look at me, tears in their eyes. I think about how Mal held Woody's hand while he died and hope that's enough for them to realize we're not all monsters even if we volunteer for this life.
District 8 and 9 are less rememberable. I don't remember much of the pair from Nine, except the boy was twelve, the youngest amongst us. It twinges to know the girl's name, Kenna, and to know I only thought of her as a number before seeing her platform.
Shenille, the girl from District 8 was killed by Tal. Her platform holds just a middle aged woman holding up an elderly woman, who is so much skin and bones that I think she may fall over. To take my eyes off the woman, I stare at Harland's platform. He placed 4th. Escaped the bloodbath, escaped the Careers, escaped the bear, escaped the feast. Out of all of us, he seemed the luckiest until he wasn't anymore.
Districts 6 and 5 are no better. The pair from District 6 were killed early on in the Games, and the boy from District 5 was devoured by ants. So it's hard to really know what to say about him, because he died so early. Again, with the numbers, I think. They were mostly numbers before now. And now, it hurts to say their names aloud.
"Thank you, Aksel, for your life."
Thank you, Delaine, for your life"
"Thank you, Luno, for your life."
"Thank you, Katya, for your life."
I sound so robotic by the time I'm at District Four. Seeing the water, I'm thankful that I'll actually get to say more about the tributes. Brielle was someone who even Orpah thought would win this. She was the favorite from the beginning, and had it not been for Lysandra and Mal tag teaming her, she very well might have won.
Her platform holds a beautiful, blonde woman and handsome man with high cheekbones. The woman looks what I imagine Brielle would look like had she'd been given the chance to grow older.
Tal's platform holds his parents, who I knew Tal wasn't really close with. Then there's his brother, Ref, with the same golden skin and sandy hair. He looks up at me, and I can't help it, I cry.
"I'm sorry," I say, before even beginning my speech. Ref looks at me. I watch as a tear slowly runs down his cheek. "I'm so sorry."
There's a stillness that settles in the air as waves crash in the distance. I take a moment to breath in the salt air. Take a moment to really just be here, to be at the home of Talcott Hudson.
"But Tal will not be forgotten," I manage to find my voice, manage to find my way through the speech. "He and Brielle were honorable allies and I am so grateful that they fought alongside me in the Games. Their lives were not lost in vain, because without them I would not be here. Without them, there would be no victory."
There's an eruption of applause from the audience. It's the first crowd that seems to actually believe my speech.
The District 4 mayor, a flat nosed woman with small eyes, comes and escorts me away from the podium. The crowd applauds until I'm off the stage and walking back towards the black shiny car. Harmony gets into the other side. Sweat settles on me as the car moves forward, as I watch out the window the ocean view fade.
District 3 is least interesting of all my stops. The people eye me as if ready to throw stones or blocks or masks they wear. The platforms of Dox and Dax hold few people. The girl, Dox, has the mayor, who weeps unconditionally. I guess that's the most awkward thing, not knowing when to leave the stage, because there's no Mayor to escort me off like in the other districts. Finally, peacekeepers move in, telling to please exit to the left. I leave the stage wondering if District 3 will ever recover after witnessing such a broken leader.
District 2 feels cold. Not in the air, but instead with the audience and their gaze at me. I stand there, looking over State's platform, witnessing a mother and father who both stand there, stoic. The mother's face is hidden, though, draped with a dark silk. I guess to hide her weeping. Lysandra's platform is different, but similar in a way. Her parents and siblings stand there, the men all dressed in peacekeeper's uniforms. Their helmets are removed and I keep waiting for them to put them back on, but they don't.
The speech for District 2 is the hardest to get through, and I find myself stumbling on words I've never struggled to pronounce. I know a lot of it is because Lysandra was betrayed by Malachite and I can feel that fresh betrayal in the air and I don't know any words that can heal that wound. Of course, they feel robbed of a potential victor because of Mal. They feel betrayed. Its similar for every career district that gets killed by another member of the alliance. I remember feeling similar when Emerella was killed by the boy from District 2.
Sweat slithers down my side. I squirm a little, hoping not to stain the velvet dress I'm wearing. That's all I need is for Emerald tell me that I've ruined her dress with pit stains. But I can't help it, either.
"Lysandra and Slate will not be forgotten," I run through my speech. "Their lives served a purpose in bringing me home, in continuing to honor this strong district." Applause comes early, starting near the back, cutting me off half speech. I stand there, confused, and it only grows louder. So loud that I'm wrapping up my speech early and finding myself being led off the stage by the District 2 Mayor, who seems all to happy to see me go.
When we're back on the train, Harmony says, "There may be some conflict this year."
"What do you mean?" I ask. "Conflict with who?"
"Between Two and One," Harmony says. She takes a sip of her glass of wine. The door opens and Beauty comes into the room. He's holding a full glass of wine in one hand and his small book in another. When he sees us, he looks surprised, caught off guard, even.
I laugh witnessing his confusion. "Were you expecting someone else?"
"No," he says. "Quite the opposite actually." I look over at him, frowning. "What? Can't I have some alone time?"
"Luster was right," I say. "You are a bore."
Harmony chokes on her wine at seeing Beauty's face turn red. But I just laugh. And it helps. Laughter, I'm realizing, does more for me than the food does or the talking or sleep.
"Anyway," Harmony continues. "You may have to address some conflict."
"Between One and Two," Beauty says.
"Yes," Harmony says.
"How?" I ask.
"It's too early to tell," Harmony says. "We'll have to take in account the tribute and mentor pairing first."
"And pray you don't get Medusa," Beauty says.
Medusa, I think. I remember that name. She's a District 2 Victor who won either the year before Beauty or the year after. She's another Victor that's recent and pretty young.
"Stop trying to scare me," I say.
"I'm not," Beauty says. "I'm warning you. She's mentally unhinged."
"Let's not worry about Medusa," Harmony speaks up. "Until we have to."
"I like that plan," I say. My stomach growls loudly, reading my mind. "Now, can we eat."
"I'll call the avoxes," Harmony says. She gets up from the couch and walks over to the door. I wonder if there's button that calls them into the room, since there isn't one waiting in the corner like usual.
I lean back on the couch, burying myself into the cushion, and kick of my heels. A weight seems to fall off of me at the removing of my shoes. Maybe its because I'm finally back on the train, where I've felt more like myself, despite the circumstances. Maybe its because I'm done with the Victory Tour and I don't have to see any of the faces anymore. Maybe its because of Harmony and Beauty and how they feel more family than my own parents at this point.
"When we eat," Beauty says. "Put your shoes back on, please."
I twist over to him. "Excuse me."
"I don't want to smell your feet while I eat," he says from behind the book.
I laugh. "Well, you can leave. Because those shoes." I point at the six inch heels. "Are off for the night."
Beauty exhales loudly, but I swear I see a smirk from behind the book.
I settle into the cushion deeper, leaning back. I pull the pins from my hair, letting the curls fall back down in waves. I'd love to get out of this dress, too, but that might be pushing it, eating in my underwear, but I'm over wearing fancy, tight fitting dresses.
There's a shuffling over to my right and I look to see Beauty's shoes have also been kicked on to the floor. He must catch me staring, because he laughs. "What? If you're going to embrace your smelly feet, so will I."
I laugh and it comes out like a snort. Harmony enters into the room, shaking her head, but Beauty only laughs, too.
"Oh, come on," Beauty says. "Live a little."
"I've lived plenty," Harmony says, but she's smirking, too. And then to my surprise, she actually slides off her own shoes, kicking them off to the carpet. I let out a cheer, before I realize what I'm doing, and it only makes Harmony and Beauty chuckle louder.
The door opens again and its Shine, followed by Luster and Glamora. They see us laughing, barefoot, and Luster makes no hesitation to come running over to pile on the couch. He shakes off his shoes in seconds.
Shine and Glamora come over and sit down on the couch, too. Glamora looks over at Harmony and she just shrugs. Then the first District 1 victor shrugs back, removes her shoes, and leans back into the cushion, mirroring me.
"I hate feet," Beauty says.
And that only makes Luster want to touch him with his toes. Beauty gets up from the chair, fleeing like a rat being chased by a street cat. I can't help but nearly squeal from laughter at watching Beauty act like a little kid and Luster chasing him around the room. Shine moves closer to me, and I'm actually shocked when she takes my hand and holds it. I turn to her, laughing and she's laughing, too, at the boys. Then I'm looking around the room, taking in Glamora and Harmony, barefoot, sipping their wine. Luster and Beauty still running around the room, acting foolish, yelling even. Beauty even throws his book at Luster, but that doesn't stop Luster's pursuit.
I'm laughing so hard by the time Luster catches Beauty that my stomach hurts. And for the first time since I won, I'm okay with not eating anything when the avox bring out the food. I'm okay with just sitting there, laughing more and more as Luster comes back for the food, but Beauty stays huddle to the wall.
"Throw him a biscuit," I say.
Luster throws a biscuit and Beauty catches it, only to toss it right back. It hits me in the head and I'm laughing so hard now that I have to excuse myself to the bathroom. When I walk out of the bathroom, Beauty is in the hallway, waiting for me.
"It's all yours," I say.
He laughs. "I don't have to pee."
"Oh," I say. "Then are you here for scenery."
"No," he says. He steps closer to me. "I'm here to say thank you."
"For what?" I ask.
"For coming back home," he says. "I mean, we need you, Blest Rinear." He looks down at his feet. "Especially those smelly feet and that contagious laugh."
Instead of responding, I kick my feet out, almost touching him. Beauty darts down the hallway, yelling something about how he takes it back, takes it all back, but I can't really hear him. I'm laughing too loudly.
A/N: So, this was the first story I've finished in ages. I hope you (Teddy mostly) enjoyed this and that Blest felt different, but similar. I tried to play around with her voice more, giving it a coldness or hardness, I don't know. I thought she'd be less bubbly now, but she's trying to get back to that.
As for her relationship with Beauty, I'm not sure if its platonic or romantic. It was weird, when writing it, it just sort of came alive on the page. I guess in a way it was supposed to be like her relationship with Tal and Mal, and I just felt like Blest has one of those personalities where she's friendly, but can seem flirty. I don't know why I'm trying to explain this. I guess because romance after the Games can be cliche, eh.
Anyway, I hope this showcases Blest and how strong she is and how she's slowly, but surely finding herself after victory.
Again, thank you for reading this. I can't believe the amount of people who reviewed and read this little story of mine. I'm excited to see where we go in A Song for Snakes and Rats. It's gonna be crazy. May have foreshadowed some here, oops.
Also, updating. I'm finally settled in with my parents and I'm going to be back on a regular writing routine. Life has been weird, dealing with a breakup, finding closure with that, and moving on to pursue other things.
So, this is it. Ugh, why am i crying. Leave a review, tell me what you thought of the story.
Also, FF deleted this doc manager and I had to go back and re-edit it a second time. So there might be more errors than usual. I don't know. I hope this chapter is up to par like all the ones before.
prayers for peace and protection