CHAPTER TWENTY - Celebrations

HAZEL

Blight's breath hitches as Johanna drops the axe down to her side. I give him a glance, half-warning, half relieved. Despite the fact that she made it through the avalanche, and despite her new ally, I'm glad to know I'm not the only one feeling the sensation of dread in the pit of my stomach.

Still, once of us has to be the comforting one, so I steel myself and turn to him. His left hand is shaking; from nerves of the empty coffee pot sitting next to him on the desk, I can't tell. "She can handle herself. She's survived this long."

"I don't like that she gave him the pills," he remarks, running his non-shaking hand through his thick hair. "She needs them."

"By the way things are going, the Games will be over before they run out," I say. Those blasted pills. At the mention of them, the ever-growing pool of dread in my stomach seems to spill over. Despite it all; the sponsors, the donations from Seven, the personal visitation from some of the biggest celebrities the Capitol has to offer, I'm still going to be paying for years to come. Starting - of course - with a party tonight.

But it's not time for that. Yet.

Blight huffs and looks down at his fingers, counting. "It's them, the pair from One and the girl from Eleven, right?"

I nod. "After today, I don't think the Capitol's going to interfere much more. They're going to want to let excitement build before the final fight. However they deal with Eleven, that's not our problem."

Blights nods, his eyes darting quickly behind us to Seeder. She's hunched over her screen so closely it looks like her bones have been fused to the machine. Her girl managed to avoid detection by camping just close enough to the Careers that they wouldn't expect her, but far enough on the other side of the lake to entirely avoid the avalanche. Lucky for her. Historically, tributes from Eleven don't last. Behind Seeder are Blight and Enobaria, who converse in hushed voices, eyes flickering every so often to Blight and I. Normally, we'd join them at their table, but right now, I don't think either of us are in much of a rush.

Eyes away from the screen, I do a quick survey of the room. I don't think I've ever seen it this empty before. Apart from the occasional attendant dotted around, all that's left are us, Seeder, and the pairs from One and Two.

"Is this what it's like? Being so close to a win?" I lower my voice so that the only person who can hear me is Blight.

"I've only made it this far three times," he says. The rest is unspoken. Once was me. The other two times, he was unsuccessful.

My attention draws back to the screen, where Johanna appears to have picked out a tree for the night. She lets her bag slip from her shoulders to the floor, making a soft crunch in the snow, but her axe remains in her hand. She may have let her guard down, but she hasn't lost it completely. Attagirl.

"You expect me to climb that?" Chess peers up into the foliage, grimacing slightly. The camera focuses on his face, and for the first time, I actually pay attention. Pierced eyebrow, dark skin, hair tied back. Handsome. Of course. When it comes to picking tributes, the Career districts know what the Capitol wants.

"What, like you're scared?" Johanna raises an eyebrow. "Upset you're not in your nice warm tent?"

"I can handle myself," he retorts. "I trained for this, remember?"

"And I trained too. In the art of climbing trees. Now come on. The ground absorbs heat. Unless you want to die of hypothermia before Love and Paris get you?"

"Fine. Ladies first."

"Exactly," Johanna grins wickedly, and gestures towards the tree. "Ladies first."

I can hear the laughs from the Capitol already. Next to me, I see Blight relaxing just the tiniest bit more. She's a pro.

"Didn't know you were such a bitch, Johanna," Chess retorts, but takes a moment to return her smile before hoisting himself up on the first branch. "You gonna take first watch?"

"As if I'd let you," she says, following up after him. I can't tell how much of their banter is for the cameras, and how much of it is actually them getting along. For both their sakes, I hope it's the former. "What're the odds that your buddies will come after us?"

"Pretty low," he says. "They need someone to guard the camp, but it's dangerous to go alone at night. It's more animals you'll be looking out for."

"Or Eleven."

"Or Eleven," he echoes. "But she's not much of a threat."

"Oh yeah?" Johanna raises an eyebrow, joining him on a thick enough branch. "Didn't you say the same about me?"

"Touché."

"Well, aren't those two a pair of delights?"

The foreign voice surprises me, and I whirl around from the screen so quickly that flecks of light dance in my eyes. I'm only disoriented for a moment, before I look up any meet the eyes of Finnick Odair, dressed like what I can only describe as a disco ball. If disco balls barely wore any clothes.

"Finnick?"

"Hey," he looks me up and down, apparently surprised at my dishevelled appearance. "Mind if I steal Hazel for the rest of the night, Blight?"

"Why?" I frown.

"You and I are on the guest list for Emmeline Costa's party tonight, remember?"

"That's right now?" I stand up, dizzying myself. I don't think I've stood up in hours. "Shit, I haven't even thought about it."

"Figured," Finnick lets out a dry laugh. "I've got a change of clothes for you in the car. Come on."

I look back at Blight but he waves his hand. "You made the call, I've got it. I'll save you from those two's awful banter."

I give him a nod and a grateful smile, before Finnick practically drags me out of the room. Stepping out into the elevator, I blink dizzily at the lights.

"How long's it been since you've been out of that room?" He remarks.

"Goodness knows," I say. "Though going to a party instead isn't quite my idea of fun. Surprised you're going too."

"You assume I wouldn't be?" He says, dramatically clutching his hand to his chest, before letting it go. "No. Emmeline lent me some money. For Circe. And even if - y'know - a deal's still a deal."

"Oh," I feel my heart sink. I'd completely forgotten. "I'm sorry, Finnick."

"Don't sweat it. Two years in a row would have been pushing it. Besides," he shakes his head, wiping away the flicker of grief in his eyes with a simple blink. The elevator doors open and we step though into the carpark, where a sleek black car waits. "Johanna sounds like she's going to make it."

"I wouldn't say anything yet."

"Oh, come on. Have you seen the headlines? I'm pretty sure the Capitol will riot if she doesn't win. She's their darling, Hazel. Don't think I've seen them this excited since, well, me."

"Here you go, blowing yourself up again." I roll my eyes, accepting an Avox's invitation to the open car door. Finnick slides in next to me, and the door closes, windows dimmed, shielding us from the outside world. Immediately I feel a spark of anxiety at being separated from my monitors, my access to Johanna. Taking a deep breath as the car lurches forwards, I block it away. This is all part of the job. "So, where's my outfit?"

Finnick leans back into the boot, rummaging around for a moment before fishing out a sleek red number. It's form-fitting, a high neck that ends clasped with a gold neckpiece and sleeves that cap with gloves, covering my whole arm. The same, however, can't be said for my lower half. I raise an eyebrow.

"Wasn't my decision," he says. "But you can't say it won't look good."

"Whatever you say," I take it in my lap. "Turn around."

"You don't think I can handle a scantily clad woman? You do know you're talking to Finnick Odair, right?"

"I don't care if you're Finnick Odair or President Snow, you're turning around."

"Alright, alright," he says, scoffing a little. "Such a prude."

"Excuse me for being dignified," I respond, though I'm smiling too. Perhaps, I think, for the first time since these Games have begun.

As far as Capitol parties go, this isn't the worst possible. Everyone who's anyone seems to be milling around, but rather than prying questions about me; my love life, who I'm wearing, what my favourite type of tea is, the questions revolve around Johanna. Ever the master of bullshit, Finnick dances around me, helping me weave a careful tapestry of lies about the girl with the axe. As bothersome and dreary as it is, I can't help but feel a bit pleased with the outcome. At least I'll get a few sponsors out of this ordeal.

Emmeline Costa, of course, makes an appearance. It's her birthday, after all, and the 21st of the Capitol's up-and-coming starlet is an event to be reckoned with. Luckily she doesn't spend too much time talking up Finnick - or, in my case, pretending I don't exist - and quickly gets whisked away by a flurry of guests and gifts, leaving us to our own devices.

"Snow'll be on my case about her, now she's single." Finnick says to me, in a rare moment where we've been left alone. It's been a long-running trick of ours to station ourselves by the non-alcoholic drinks, where, naturally, nobody goes.

"No surprise there," I say, pulling down my dress for the hundredth time tonight. "Sorry about that one. Sounds like it won't be the over-and-done-with deal."

"It never is, with mine," he shakes his head. "They always want to talk. It's almost like they want to do it more than any of the other stuff."

"Shame."

"Ah, just the Victors I was looking for."

Both of us turn at the same moment to the woman standing before us. She's a youthful looking woman - though you can never tell with Capitolites - with delicately braided orange hair and a deep black dress. Internally I sigh at the prospect of another tedious conversation, but Finnick's face breaks out into a smile.

"Hazel. This is Fulvia Cardew."

"I don't believe we've met," Fulvia holds out her hand, which I take. She smells of perfume, but not too sweet or overpowering. "It's a pleasure."

"The pleasure's all mine."

"Fulvia works with Plutarch Heavansbee," Finnick says, casually. For a split second, my heart skips a beat and spare a quick look at him. Would Finnick? No. He couldn't be.

"I've heard good things about you, Hazel," Fulvia says. "I host parties from time to time. Smaller than this, of course, but eventful all the same. You can ask Finnick. He's been to a few."

"Have you?" I say, feigning interest, but glaring at him as pointedly as I possibly can. Finnick's involved in this too? Who else is? How many people?

"Fulvia is a wonderful host. I've been telling her to invite you for a long time."

"He has," Fulvia smiles. "I'm holding one after the Games are over. Just so I can catch some of the Victors for the last time before they go home. I'd love for you to come, if you'd like?"

So, this is it. This is the rebellion I've been waiting for.

"Hazel?"

"Yes," I say. "Yes, that sounds lovely."

Hi all! So, so sorry it's been a hot minute, so much has happened since I last updated. I got cast in two shows, and a podcast I've been writing got greenlit, and I've seen my family for the first time in a year (thank you, Covid) so I've barely had time to sit and write. Don't worry though, I'm still raring to get this story complete, especially when we're nearing the final act!