Chapter 25
I go through the rest of the evening in a haze.
My mentors join us and Caesar stands up to greet them. Peeta says something to Caesar that exhilarates the audience but I'm not listening. Haymitch offers his hands to me and helps me stand up. Haymitch notices my legs are shaking so he wraps his arm around my shoulders and I numbly lean against him to keep myself upright.
Caesar congratulates Katniss on her successful first mentorship which she demurs by saying she could never have done it without Peeta's support, which makes the audience sigh adoringly.
Caesar makes chit chat with everyone before Peeta speaks up. "I don't want to take over your night Madge, but I was wondering if I could borrow Katniss for a moment?"
Peeta does not wait for an answer, taking Katniss's hand and leading her center stage. The crowd buzzes in anticipation as Peeta faces Katniss, his smile bright. As Peeta begins talking, Haymitch pulls me aside with the rest of our entourage, using his body to semi-block me from view.
"Keep it up," Haymitch whispers to me. "Just a bit longer."
I nod as the audience gasps. I peer over and see Peeta down on one knee to ask Katniss to marry him. Katniss beams at him, nodding vigorously. "Yes! Yes, of course!"
The audience screams in joy, our prep team the loudest of all from their side of the stage. Caesar is exclaiming into his microphone. He rushes center stage excitedly and almost knocks into Katniss in his haste. She and Peeta hug, Katniss burying her head in Peeta's shoulder while he kisses her temple.
The evening becomes a celebration of Katniss and Peeta and I couldn't be more grateful. All that is left for me to do is be crowned by President Snow, but even that is overshadowed by the engagement as he stops to congratulate the pair. I am given my crown swiftly, the president barely looking at me, aside from a lingering glance at the Mockingjay pin.
At the Victory Banquet, again the attention is shared between me and the newly engaged couple. Many Capitol citizens greet me, though they have little to say beyond mentioning how lovely I am or how great I was in the Games but I don't understand what they see in me. All I saw on that screen tonight was a pathetic, callous murderer.
Even now they talk of how beautiful I look, not noticing how frail my body is or the way I can barely use my arms lest I injure them again. I wonder how attractive they would find me if they knew how close I am to throwing up the little food I've had to eat.
Haymitch and Effie stay close to me throughout the night. Despite the fact that she also keeps rambling on about how spectacular I am, Effie is a great guard against some of the more aggressive people. Whenever someone comes too close for comfort, giving me appraising looks or whispering innuendo to me, Effie swoops in to divert their attention or just get me away from them.
Haymitch, meanwhile, helps me keep my energy up throughout the party, guiding me through conversations and whispering tips and reassurances in my ear. I think he more than anyone noticed how difficult the recap was for me. In fact, Haymitch has been a great support system to me since I won, which I never would have predicted beforehand. He barely acknowledged me during the pregame week and spent most of his time drinking and keeping to himself. I had just assumed he felt uncomfortable around me after I caught him arguing with Katniss on the train. Now I think he might have been acting similarly to Katniss and kept himself distant from the tributes about to die.
That night, after we return to our suite, I hug Peeta and Katniss, thanking them. I know they probably would have gotten engaged anyway, but I appreciate them doing it tonight. When I pull back, Katniss is giving me a shrewd look but doesn't say anything as I go to my room.
I strip my decadent clothes off and shower quickly before collapsing onto my bed. Immediately, everything feels wrong to me. I shift around but something feels weird about my mattress, like I am the character from The Princess and the Pea or something.
I sit up, putting my feet on the floor just to feel a different surface. I feel instant relief. All that time sleeping on the rocky mountain in the arena has made the overstuffed, luxurious bed feel unnatural. I must not have noticed when I was sleeping in the hospital bed because of the painkillers.
I grab a pillow and spread out across the floor to go to sleep. It's not comfortable but it feels like the right place for me.
The next day is my exit interview.
My prep team gleefully set the crown on my head, weaving my hair around to combine it into my hairstyle. Cinna dismisses them and helps me into a yellow dress, tied together with bows on my shoulders and layers of thin fabric flowing down the side. Combined with my hair and the crown, I look like a golden statue, similar to the ones that decorate the Capitol's streets. Cinna pins the Mockingjay pin to my dress and it blends in so perfectly it almost vanishes.
"You are meant to match the pin," Cinna explains. "Like the pin, you are a songbird."
"A songbird?"
"A canary in a coal mine." He grins.
I try to return Cinna's smile but it comes off as a grimace. Cinna glances at me as he adjusts my bows. "Are you feeling alright, Madge?"
"Of course."
Cinna quirks his eyebrow at me. I sigh, wanting to change the subject. I turn from him, glancing at my reflection in the mirror. I look at the crown resting atop my head.
"You know," I say, touching the crown, "I always imagined this was heavy. Just another burden a Victor has to carry. But it's actually very light."
Cinna comes up behind me and lays a comforting hand on my shoulder. He says softly, "For within the hollow crown that rounds the mortal temples of a king."
I make eye contact with Cinna through the reflection. "What's that?"
"Shakespeare. Have you ever read him?"
I nod. Papa has some of his works in our library but I do not recognize this one.
Cinna clarifies, "All it means is that the glory of the crown cannot change our fates. He meant it with royalty, of course, but I think we all can appreciate it."
"What, that we're all going to die?"
Cinna frowns. "Of course we are. But it's more about fighting fate. We can't change the past."
He leans in closer and tells me firmly but kindly, "You earned your survival, Madge. Don't spend your life regretting that."
Cinna cups my shoulder comfortingly before turning away. Through the mirror, I watch him exit the room, leaving behind the golden girl and her hollow crown.
"Have you thought about your Victory Tour at all?" Caesar asks me.
Definitely not. I can barely handle thinking about this interview. But I just giggle with Caesar and say, "I still haven't comprehended that I'm a Victor at all."
"Well, I certainly want you back in the Capitol very soon," Caesar sighs dramatically, rubbing his cheek. "I guess I will just have to relive that one kiss until then."
The joke makes everyone in the room chuckle and I blush at the memory. Behind the cameras, Effie gestures exaggeratedly at her face, meaning I must have slipped back into the "frozen deer" look she hates. I force a big smile and relax back into my seat until Effie looks satisfied.
Like everything else, the interview is a blur. Caesar keeps the topics light, asking about my talent and what I plan to do once I get back home. Despite its perfect camouflage, near the end of the interview, Caesar points out the Mockingjay pin. Behind him, Haymitch and Katniss give him dual glares.
"I seem to recall that pin on a certain District Twelve tribute last year," Caesar says. "Did our soon to be Mrs. Mellark give that to you?"
Katniss makes a face at being referred to like that. Peeta lays a hand over her shoulders, a gesture both comforting and precautionary.
"Actually, Caesar," I inform him, "I gave this to Katniss last year. She gave it back to me for my Games."
"Really?" Caesar chuckles, "Well, isn't that something! Tell me, why did you give it to Katniss?"
"It seemed like a good token to me," I tell him, deciding not to go into detail about it like I did when Katniss had asked me this. However, Caesar looks eager for more so I add, "It was my aunt's token when she was a tribute."
Katniss and Peeta exchange a quick look. Behind them, Effie's does a double take so fast I am surprised her wig stayed on.
"Was she?" Caesar leans forward in interest. "When was this?"
"The fiftieth Games."
"Ah, the Quarter Quell!" Caesar exclaims. "Fantastic year! Why, I believe that was the game our very own Haymitch Abernathy won, is it not?"
Now Katniss and Peeta look more surprised than Effie. One of the cameras turns to Haymitch, who gives it an awkward nod.
"You know, we have another Quarter Quell coming up," Caesar says eagerly. "Hard to believe it's been twenty-five years, right Haymitch?"
Haymitch blinks, looking as if he is at a loss for words. Peeta steps in, cheerfully clapping Haymitch on the back. Haymitch starts and seems to remember himself.
"Yeah, well, the years seem to have flown by," Haymitch says with a forced chuckle.
I laugh along with him, allowing the attention to return to me and the cameras turn away from Haymitch.
"Well, this pin must be great luck for District Twelve," Caesar says. "It's been in three Games and brought four Victors home! It's certainly let the odds be in your favor."
"Yes," I say softly, glancing down as I trace the pin fondly with my finger. "Yes, it really has."
The interview wraps up not too long after that. As he is saying goodbye, Caesar reaches to shake my hand before remembering he can't jostle my wrist. He snickers at himself and instead brings my hand up to his lips for a kiss.
He kisses my hand, just like-
No. Stop thinking about that.
Effie claps her hands giddily once we return to our suite, talking grandly about how wonderful the interview was. Haymitch, Cinna, Peeta and Katniss set off down the hallway, having what looks to be a serious discussion. I try to listen but Effie wraps her arm around my shoulders and ushers me to the dining room table, beginning to talk about the preparations we need to begin for returning home and the Victory Tour.
I figure they were probably just discussing wedding plans and I try to tune into whatever Effie is talking about.
The next morning, I wake up early. I still can't rest comfortably on my bed so I slept on the floor again. I should probably moving because if I stay still too long the Gamemakers might send some-
I freeze, horrified. I can't believe I just did that. I know I'm not in the arena, why did I instinctively start behaving like that? I have been working so hard to not think about the Games but these random moments keep overwhelming me and I lose control of everything.
There is a knock at my door. I assume it is Effie coming to collect me for something but instead an Avox opens it. She is holding a lime-green folder that is most likely filled with Effie's itinerary for the day. She pauses, surprised, when she sees me sprawled out on the floor.
I sit up quickly. "Sorry, I just..."
To my surprise, she peers back into the hallway before stepping into the room, shutting the door behind her. She sets the folder on my nightstand before holding up her hands and moving her fingers. I recognize the sign language alphabet that Sprig and Paisley had taught us.
"Y-O-U O-K?"
"Um, yeah, I just wanted to sleep on the ground for now." It sounds so stupid when I say it out loud but I'm too flustered to think of a better excuse. The Avox remains standing, staring down at me on the floor.
"Uh, I'm sorry I don't know..." I trail off uncomfortably.
She points at me and signs, "T-A-L-K."
"I'm sorry, but I can't really use my hands right now," I nod down to the splint and sling on my arms. She gives a half-smile before tapping her ear.
Right, of course. She can hear me just fine.
She signs again, this time laying her hands on her shoulders before pulling them away into fists. She follows this by fingerspelling, "B-R-A-V-E", before repeating the action.
"Well...thank you," I say hesitantly. I try to turn away from her but she taps her foot to make me look back at her. She signs the word "boy".
Rory.
That horrible, painful feeling hits me again. This feels even more overwhelming when it is back to back with my slip-up moments earlier.
She signs "sorry" to me, her face sympathetic. I swallow, trying to breathe evenly.
"Why are you talking to me?" I bite out, hating the way my voice cracks.
She signs again and this time I comprehend what she is saying. She signs "Good" and "person" and then points at me with a determined look on her face. Then she spells, "R-E-M-E-M-B-E-R" before repeating her signs.
I feel like I can't breathe. Before exiting, the girl swipes her hand over her forehead, bringing it down into two fists, her thumbs touching. That must be the sign for "Remember". I just watch her go.
After she leaves, the tears begin flowing freely. What is happening? Is she saying remember how good Rory is? Or is she trying to say I'm a good person? That's ridiculous. If the past few weeks have proved anything it is that I am not a good person. Foster was an actual good person and what did I do? I took advantage of his good nature to win these stupid Games.
Why on Earth are people like Cinna and this Avox girl acting like I am a good person? They tell me to remember the Games. They want me to look back with no regrets. All I want is to just forget about all of this.
I lie back down. In my line of sight I can see my crown resting on the dresser. I stare at it until my vision blurs. Finally, that cold, hollow feeling returns and I can no longer feel anything.