Forty – The Crowning
The Decision – Division One (14.1)
The roar of the crowd fades away as I am pulled into the hovercraft. The door shuts behind and the current releases me. Back here. In a place so clean. So lacking in any dirt. So sterile. I guess it has to be because I'm right where the doctors treat the victors for their urgent injuries. A trio of them come for me right now, masked and gloved in their white coats. Instinctively, I run away, but there isn't anywhere to go. I face the wall when a hand grips my shoulder and a needle enters my back. Good. I don't want to think about anything anymore...
I wake lying in a softly lit room that contains nothing except me and my bed. No sign of windows, no seams that could indicate the placement of a door, and no other furniture. There is a strong antiseptic smell around, and I find it pleasant, even though it's seems a little too pungent. Outside of a thin, smooth blanket that drapes over my body from the chest down, I am completely naked. My right arm is pulled out, attached to several tubes that leads into the wall behind me. I can just make out the skin not obscured by the tubes. They are clean, scrubbed, devoid or any scratches or wounds. I take a closer look at my left hand, which have clearly been scrubbed clean and moisturised. My nails have been clipped and filed back to its uniform, squarish shape. I check my shoulders, where the scars already feel like my normal skin again. Same with the burn on my nape. My lips feel unusually smooth but other than that, my face is free from any dirt and dryness. My hair is silky smooth, unlike the greasy and tangled mess I have felt I have had for ages. I try to feel the other major wound I sustained on my side, but it is covered by this band that restrains me from leaving the bed or even sitting up.
I clear my throat and check to see if my voice has changed. It doesn't seem to have been after I hum scales of notes then sing the same syllable from low to high pitch followed by the reverse.
I'm so different to how I remembered myself in the arena, so it is a little easier to convince myself that the Games weren't real, like they were all some kind of nightmare that I woke up from, looking the same as I usually do. Except something at the back of my mind tells me it is not. It is completely real. Radia did die. Ryno did die. I killed Ringo. Twenty-three children did not wake up.
Remembering the events of the Games induces me to panic, and the restraining band on my waist scares me even further when it causes me to realise I am trapped. Trapped in this yellowish room alone to wallow in terrible thoughts. Where am I? Where is everybody?
While stroking my hair because it feels nice, I project sounds from my mouth which are a mix of moaning and screaming in helplessness. I am that loud that I don't even notice an Avox girl enter the room through what seemed like a sliding wall. She is carrying a tray of food, which calms me down even more. I thank her when she sets the tray down on my lap but when I get a good look at her, I almost knock the tray over at how much she resembles one of the tributes from the Games. Connie. It isn't her, though, disappointingly. She is a little older and her nose, a bit pointer I think. Connie is really dead, too.
The Avox presses a button on the bottom of the bed that raises me into a sitting position, and I want her to keep lying me down and sitting me up after I eat so I can keep entertained but I know that isn't viable. After she adjusts my pillows, she turns to leave and I notice my heart beat faster. I don't want to be alone here.
"Please stay?" I ask.
The Avox stops and looks around the room as if there were cameras. Of course I'm being watched! And I may have just overstepped by asking an Avox to essentially be closer to me.
She turns to look at me, shakes her head quickly, and exits, sliding the wall behind her. The small glimpse of her face when shaking her head was full of pity. I wonder what these Avoxes think of the victors. Do they hate them, love them, or does it depend on who it is?
I turn my attention to the food. I must be starving but I don't really have an appetite to wolf down anything. It's not a particularly luxurious meal, either. A good serving of broth, a small bowl of applesauce and a glass of water. I don't like broth. The taste is fine but I hate the heat. My tolerance to heat in my mouth is so low that the broth will have gone cold after halfway, which also isn't pleasant. I also hate that it splashes everywhere, but it must be because of how I use the spoon. Finally, it reminds me of sickness. I guess I am recovering right now.
I do consume it first, though, mostly because I like to leave the best thing, the applesauce, for last. But not being a left-hander and not wanting to disturb the tubes on my right arm, I unsteadily lift up the spoon spilling a few drops every spoonful, and I find myself swearing at each spill. Fortunately, it isn't too hot, and the warmth that rushes down my body further soothes my temper. Then I have not even gone halfway down the bowl that I begin to struggle finishing it off, prompting me to think about how many days I have been knocked out, and how many days I have not eaten. All my sustenance has come probably come from these tubes, and my stomach has gone unused.
I slow down, thinking rationally now about where I actually am. I'm being treated and prepared for presentation as the victor. I cast back to how bad of a state I really was in, and the transformation up to now. There is no doubt it is the doctors that have helped me with their hard work, and I regret running away from them, which was the last thing I remember before I got heavily sedated.
Beetee and Jovan, I really hope it's both of them, will be organising the massive banquet for us and our sponsors. Martinus would be joining them. They must be ecstatic that I have come back. Oh, how I want to see them again. But Tiberius is not somebody who I would be happy looking at. He would be arranging my wardrobe for public appearances, such as the viewing of the highlights, the crowning, and the interviews. There are still more questions that I have to answer. There is still a lot to go. The Games are not over.
And it still won't end when I return home. District 3 will be organising celebrations for when I arrive. Capitol staff will be there, setting up all the cameras. But I want to skip all that. The first thing I want to do when the train stops is to go home. Not the Victor's Village, nor the Justice Building, but my family. I just want them there, waiting for me, as I run and hug all of them. I imagine my sister's face, full of pride, my mother, eager to see me, and who knows how much Algo has grown? It has almost been a month. I can't wait to see them again.
I finish off the applesauce without much of the difficulty I had with the clear broth, and then I drink the water. Right as I set the empty glass down, I feel a rush of cold in my right arm. I only figure out it is coming from the tubes before I lose consciousness once more.
I wake. I eat. I'm forced to sleep. And repeat. I hate getting knocked out all the time. I just want my questions answered and my freedom. Whatever they're giving me, the dosages are a lot more heavy. I can't register much at all, except that I said hello to a different Avox and my scars seem to get smoother and smoother. The food also seems to become more solid for every time I eat. I only remember tuna was one of those meals. I reckon I am only awake for half an hour at a time, probably once or twice a day. Not only is my sleep schedule ruined, but so must be my biological clock. There is no determining whether it's night, morning, or afternoon.
One day, I come to and find myself more conscious than usual. I keep my right arm still for a while, and only realise a while later that it isn't attached to anything. I try to sit myself up and notice less tension around my waist. The restraint is gone. Am I allowed to leave? If I do, I will have to look good because they will want to capture me for anything. I feel around my face and touch nothing but smoothness. The scars on my neck and my shoulders are practically non-existent. My skin is glowing and not dry as it always used to be. I wonder if it's all the stuff they dripped into me, or if some people worked on my naked body while I stayed asleep. I surprise myself when I realise I do not care.
I stay in bed, and after I don't feel any sign that I will go back to sleep, I slip my legs out and to the ground, still covering myself with the blanket. My feet also look healthy, and hold me up sturdily. There is an outfit waiting for me at the foot of the bed. It is the exact same one that we tributes wore in the arena. I remember it is to give the impression of still being a tribute when I go to greet my team, but the lack of the jacket and dirt and perforations in the fabric is so different that I do not feel like a tribute in it.
I dress myself, fold the blanket on the bed, and remember the point in the wall the Avox entered to give me food. I flinch when it slides open before I could touch it, and I step into an enormous hall that is furnished with nothing but broadcasting cameras that are trained on me, so I know I am meant to be out now. There are no other doors in the hall, except a large chamber at the end of it. And inside there are people that appear to be facing me, waiting for me. I know exactly who they are, and I'm drawn to them, like the tears are drawn out of my eyes.
I ignore the dozens of cameras and camera crew that record every bit of my reactions when I slam myself into Jovan who offered his arms to me first.
"I'm so proud of you." he says.
"Thank you." I whisper. "Thank you so much for all your help."
Jovan lets me go and directs me to Beetee, where we also give each other a hug.
"You did amazing." he whispers.
Martinus was polite enough to wait before he could get his hugs in. He was blubbering but I catch that he's been telling everybody that I would win at some point. I thank him for all the promotion.
The last person is somebody I am also happy to see. It's not my stylist, but Radia's, which is unusual but I do not question it. I am glad don't have to see him. Tatiana has to bend down to hug me but we can't keep still as she keeps jumping for joy.
"You were so beautiful out there!" she exclaims. I thank her.
"You're not going to ask why your stylist isn't here?" asks Jovan.
"No." I say immediately. "How are you all?"
"We're overjoyed!" trills Martinus, but Jovan stands in front of him.
"Never mind us." he says. "You've been through hell. How are you feeling?"
"Happy to see all of you now." I say.
Beetee steps forward. "Same here." he says. "But we don't have long. Tatiana has to get you ready for the ceremony."
"You're my stylist for now!" sings Tatiana.
"Follow her." says Beetee. "We'll see you later."
After that short but sweet reunion, Tatiana guides me by the hand around this unknown place. Of course, I need to ask her what happened to Tiberius but I don't want to bring up the topic when the cameras are around. Once we're down a passage so empty that our steps echo, I probe about my old stylist.
"He stepped down for some crazy reason." she answers. I try to look like I do not know this crazy reason at all. "He went to President Snow about it when you were in the Final Five and I thought he was insane for turning down the rewards if you'd won the Games. I mean, all the fame and the extra money for having jazzed up a tribute to Victory? That was meant to be his! And now I feel like a cheat."
"I mean, it's not like you didn't style me for anything." I say. "The parade outfits were your ideas too."
"That's true." admits Tatiana. "And I did help him with your suit for the interview, too."
So Tiberius basically quit his job. That is unlike any stylist I have seen, ambitious to even land a part in styling the tributes. There is no doubt it was about the incident in the Stockyard. But did he do it out of remorse and punishment and somebody like him does not deserve the praise if I win, or was it out of cowardice, in fear that I'd survive to expose him? The former seems more likely and more what I would want him to do. Him quitting does feel like there is less weight on my mind but the weight is still there, knowing that if I do tell anybody, it wouldn't demote him or anything.
Our conversation continues heading up in an elevator.
"So where is he now?" I ask.
"Back as a normal citizen." answers Tatiana. "Not even joining the Prep Teams! But I'm not sure he's not showing his face anywhere, because now that you've won, he's the talk of the town."
"Bad or good?" I question.
"Bad." she says. "So many people would kill, uh, no offense, for the position to style, let alone style the victor! I hope you're okay that I'll be your stylist for the rest of your time as reigning victor."
"I'm happy, Tatiana." I say. I'm more than happy. Facing Tiberius as my stylist while being afraid and disgusted by him would be horrendous. He's so unlike Tatiana, who has that Capitol "innocence" and doesn't have any ill and unusual intentions. It is her I trust. "I'd like to be styled by the same woman who styled Radia."
"Yay, I'm so happy to style you too! It means so much to me." says Tatiana. "It's not just because you're a victor now, but I've really liked you from first seeing you, and based on what both Tiberius and Radia tell me. I mean, I liked both you and her so much. I cried so much when she died by that arrow."
Thinking of her again forms a pit in my stomach, but I didn't know her death would mean that much to Tatiana. "You aren't used to it?" I ask.
"I don't know." she says. "This year was different. Even though I'm a crier, I found myself betting hard on both of you more than I did in the past. There was so much more root-able friendship and emotion."
Maybe recency bias has a part to play in it. I almost thought past Games were quite emotional, or maybe I was just manifesting it in my mind. Also what did Tatiana say about Tiberius and Radia talking to her about me? Maybe he gets all the information from Tatiana, but I don't remember talking to Tiberius at all about Radia, but he never really asked.
When the elevator doors open, I realise I am back in the Training Center. I must have been treated so far underground now that we have spent minutes just to arrive at ground level. We step into the lobby, and it is completely different from how I remembered it. The windows are darkened and there's nobody but us and around six guards on duty. It's so quiet that we don't speak until we enter another elevator, the same one that the tributes used to transport them to their floors. It's sickening to realise that nobody else but me has returned to use these elevators.
"How were you and our team feeling while I was in the Games?" I ask Tatiana.
"I was on the edge of my seat the whole time!" says Tatiana. "I don't know about Beetee or Jovan or Martinus, because they were always busy pulling for the sponsors' money and managing the gifts. I haven't seen Martinus do so much before."
Which probably means they really wanted to me win, I think. More than ever. I don't understand why, though. I still don't believe I'm that special.
When the elevator finishes its short ride with a slow down to the third floor, I hear commotion outside the doors.
"Has my prep team changed?" I ask Tatiana.
"No, they're still the same." she answers, and the doors open for me to walk into a swarm of Laurentia, Cassius, and Antonia.
Despite their loud and unintelligible comments of praise, I'm quite relieved to see them again. Any familiar face is what I need right now.
They sweep me into the dining room, and I do not like the familiarity of this place, knowing that Radia will never step foot in here with me ever again. I do get the fanciest meal I have had since the breakfast before the Games started, though. Peas and carrots which may have been harvested by the tributes from District 11. Roast beef from a cow which could have been taken care of by people like Imogen, cut by slaughterhouse workers like Dominic. Worse are the corn and the soft bread rolls which remind me too much of Ryno. I don't like the thought of the tributes invading my mind this often.
After the meal, it's only my prep team who accompany me back to my quarters to get me ready. When I look at my naked body in the mirror, the effects the Games had on me are only now very prominent. Well, Laurentia points out that my skin is flawless, but there was nothing the hospital could do to return my weight to what it once was. I was already able to see my ribs before the Games, so now I looked a little too freaky. And I continue to see myself with less fat until I'm basically skin and bone, which is probably how Resa would have appeared without her clothes.
I shake off the thought and turn away from the mirror, where Antonia has already set their ideal shower for me. They work on my hair, my nails and my make-up, all while chattering to me and each other about the Games. Or about themselves reacting to the Games. Laurentia apparently missed the moment I left the Careers because she was getting her hair done, while Antonia had an asthma attack when the reptiles were biting at me. Cassius tried not to cry when Ryno killed Resa, which meant that he must have looked annoyed during that whole time, and he must have failed to hold in his tears when Radia and Ryno died. They never talk about how the children themselves must have felt.
Luckily, I don't have to listen anymore as Tatiana enters the room with my outfit for the upcoming Crowning ceremony.
"This was purely my idea." she says, holding up circuitry-patterned blazer and pants, which I have seen plenty of the District 3 tributes wear before, but the patterns are coloured a gradient rainbow against the shiny background. It doesn't have flashing lights or colour-changing features due to light refraction, but I love it. Maybe even more than my previous outfits. It's a simple, humbling twist to show superiority while still representing my district.
When I wear it, I realise it has so much padding to fill in the flesh that I used to have, especially at the shoulders. Otherwise, it makes me look like just myself. Past victors have really showcased their strengths following their win. Enobaria from District 2 had her teeth surgically altered. It was made sure Finnick Odair revealed as much of his body as possible. But with this outfit, it is just genuinely me.
"The Gamemakers were torn on how they wanted you to appear." Says Tatiana. "Some wanted you to blow up like a bomb, but some wanted the alliance-making quality in you to come out and did not know how that can be pulled off. So I had free reign here."
"I really love it." I tell her. I'm mostly glad I didn't have surgery nor do I have to look ridiculous. "I feel like myself in it. Thank you."
"I was hoping it did." she replies. "And you're very welcome, Henry. The colour scheme is unique to you. Otherwise, I didn't want to change much, because the best part of you is within you."
"It's the best." I say.
The make-up on my face fills it out, and accentuates my eyes to make them look kinder. They spray my naturally wind-swept hair into place, and I break into comfortable shoes that match my outfit. Finally, I am complete.
"One last touch." she adds, placing my father's watch around my wrist. It looks pristine, despite being exposed to the arena for days. I can see the hands ticking, too. The watch looks prominent with my outfit, but not out of place. "Their eyes will be drawn to it. It's been restored, and as you can see, it's working again."
"Thank you so much, Tatiana." I'm so grateful for the care she's put with my token.
"Alright, are you ready?" asks Tatiana, running on the spot. "I can't wait for you to make your first public appearance as a victor!"
"I don't think so." I answer quite disappointingly. I don't feel excited at all. Now that the Games are over, I don't feel like doing anything except return home and carry on with my life normally. "I don't feel like a victor."
Tatiana stops moving. "We'll take you back down so you can talk to Beetee and Jovan before we take the stage." she says, and I look forward to that.
The elevator takes us the same floor we trained in. Tatiana and my prep team disappear somewhere else to get their own costumes ready, although I already thought their current appearance would have been what they'd be during the ceremony. I don't think I'll be seeing them until I join them on stage, because we all have to take our positions at different places under the stage, rising up in a traditional order. First is the victor's prep team, followed by the district escort, the stylist, the mentors, and finally, the victor. An official directs me to where I should stand, on a metal plate in a dimly lit area, where the crowd above me rumbles loudly.
Right when I wonder where Beetee and Jovan who I thought I'd be talking to are, I hear Jovan's voice shouting my name over the crowd. I could just make out his silhouette as he approaches me.
"I can't see your outfit but I'm sure you look amazing, H." he says, alone.
"Thank you. Where's Beetee?" I ask. "Do they not have room for another mentor to go on stage?"
"He's fine." Jovan answers. "They've always had another spare plate to rise a second mentor. This is the first time they've had to use it in a while, so there was work done on it to prepare." I'm relieved. Even though Beetee was technically Radia's mentor, both he and Jovan basically mentored both of us. "How are you feeling?"
"Nervous." I say. "Still not used to being in front of a crowd. And I don't know what to do."
"Well, you're lucky because today, you don't have to do anything except sit and watch, then stand and get the Crown on your head. It was easy for me, so it will be easier for you." I forget Jovan has done this before. "Just remember to smile, but you're already an expert at that!"
"Should I act in any particular way for the Capitol?" I ask. "I mean, the Capitol wanted Beetee and Wiress to invent for them, they wanted you to talk more, what do they want me to do?"
"I think they'd want you to sing." says Jovan, after thinking for a while. I wonder what it would have been if I wasn't able to sing. "But that's for tomorrow. Just don't do anything rebellious."
That will be hard to do. "And what does that include?"
Jovan leans in closer to me and I give him a hug. "Oh, alright. Hug. Anyway, the people still like you, but I think you might be walking along a thin wire here. I thought you were a dead man when you outsmarted the gamemakers with the explosives, but they seemed like they wanted somebody to figure it out. But I don't think the Gamemakers liked you making genuine relationships with the other tributes because the whole viewership likes it. The highlights are going to tell a story in their favour. Just follow with that."
Of course. Just my luck. My willingness to be as nice as I can to other tributes and form relationships with them undermine what the Capitol wants. Segregation. I may have brought the districts closer together, mine and Ryno's specifically, and the Capitol citizens may have liked it because it tells a story. Somehow, the Capitol is going to edit these highlights in a way that helps them, and stop their citizens from supporting good rapport between tributes and districts. Nobody dare change the objective of the Capitol's beloved Hunger Games.
"Is my family okay?" I ask.
"They were doing well last time I saw them." says Jovan, and I'm relieved. They're not in danger, and won't be if I just play the stage right. "Same with Radia's family."
"Thank you."
We pull away. "Now laugh." orders Jovan.
"Hahaha." I say nervously. I have been through too much. I don't want to make many more enemies or bring up more chaos. I just want to go back to having a normal life. Jovan didn't sound too alarmed so I reckon the job today won't be too hard. I promise to listen to Jovan and I thank him.
"Break a leg." he tells me leaving to take his place, and I'm instantly reminded of Ryno, and Elaine soon enough. He returns ten seconds later to apologise and replace it with "Good luck. The next few days are about you so just enjoy it."
I wish I can just go home. I wave him away and tell him he's okay.
The sound of the anthem drowns the crowd out, and I try to feed off the energy of all that is happening above us. I imagine Caesar Flickerman bouncing onto the stage with great timing, because I hear him greet the audience after I do. He then presents my prep team. Antonia, Cassius, and Laurentia must be taking it all in, scuttering around the front of the stage and trying to take all of the crowd's cheers as it if were tangible. It's their first time having prepped a victor, after all.
Same with Martinus as an escort. He must be absolutely thrilled. I think he became District 3's escort after the 61st Games, but something tells me Martinus isn't going to step down now that he's had his time in the spotlight.
Then my new stylist rises onto the stage but the praise is not noticeably less even though she isn't Tiberius, and I'm really happy for her. She deserves as much honour for dressing Radia in that heart-stopping dress for the interview as she has dressed me now. Beetee and Jovan appear on stage at the same time and the wild cheering lasts for minutes. The nervousness of me finally making my way up has totally disappeared because of how long it took for my mentors to take in the cheers. I'm Beetee's third ever tribute that he's kept alive, and I'm Jovan's first. They're pretty special, and it must mean so much to them that they know somebody who has returned. I am too honoured to be that tribute.
Then I feel the metal plate underneath my feet lift me up and the latch above me slides open to blind me with all the stage lights. The audience is insane and deafening. When my eyes come to see the mass of roaring people extending beyond the stage, I realise how stunned I must look. So I lift up my arms triumphantly and smile. This brings on a second wave of pandemonium with an energy so palpable, making this experience feel so surreal. I would have never thought that, in my life, I would ever receive praise by so many people. I spend minutes waving to the crowd and cameras I can notice. Then seeing my team in an exclusive section in front of the stage so happy brings tears to my eyes. The audience realises I've turned away so they don't see I'm crying, and they give a collective "Aww!"
"We love you, Henry!" I hear one particularly loud Capitol civilian scream from the front row.
I turn back to continue waving, not knowing how long I should be doing this for. Later, Caesar Flickerman walks up to me with a facial tissue to wipe my eyes and blow my nose. I must have reacted funnily, because I hear the audience laugh. With an arm around mine, Caesar then directs me to the ornate victor's chair.
After I have settled down and Caesar makes a few more jokes, the lights dim to signal the start of the show. All these films last for three hours and is mandatory viewing, but I really don't think I can last that long in this seat. I have watched ten or eleven of my fellow tributes die before, and I'm about to watch them die again, plus thirteen more for the first time. Even worse is the fact that the tribute's families have to relive the death of their loved ones. That is the horror of it all, being reminded constantly of it. And right now, I feel nothing but guilt that I am the only child on that screen to be alive, and to be praised for it disgusts me. How do the other victors handle this? Jovan told me it was easy because I didn't have to do something a particular way, but he didn't tell me how hard it is not to do anything. Unfortunately, my reactions for certain events will be displayed on the corner of the screen for time to time. If there is one thing I cannot look like, it is disgust towards seeing what played out in the arena again.
The film kicks off with the reapings and already I am saddened. Seeing the Careers so eager and lively while knowing they are dead is unsettling, but it is worse when Radia appears next so innocently on the stage. I could not believe we were strangers to each other then. It feels like we knew each other for a lot longer. Then the whole moment with my reaping and Algo plays out and I realise this is the first time I have seen his face for possibly a month now. My live reaction appears on the screen for the first of many times. I'm prepared for it and I'm already making a pouty face with my hands on my heart. Sometimes exaggerated reactions feel just as ingenuine as fake ones.
The rest of the reapings continue and it cuts to the parade. I notice they focus a lot on several tributes. There's me and Radia in the flashing light costumes, obviously, but also the Careers, Magnus, and the members of the Coalition. Maybe even Resa, and I then I realise it's all the people I have ever interacted with in the arena. It's not just those who have lasted far into the Games, because I don't think they would have placed that much screen time on Magnus and Resa. I remember Jovan telling me about the story the editors are trying to play up here, and I continue to look closely for this narrative.
They move onto the training scores, and leave mine until last, editing the number 'three' spectacularly with confetti effects and flashing lights over an upbeat backing track. I complete forgot I got a three in training! With the way they are dramatically jazzing up the number, it has to be the first for a victor. They broadcast my surprised face and I look at the corresponding camera, mouth
"Wow." and hold up the number three up forward, fingers closed. After around fifteen minutes, the interviews go on for another fifteen. They replay the memorable answers of the same tributes they focus on, skipping District 3 to apparently save the best until last. When it came to Ryno's, though, I smile and chuckle for all of Panem to see. I used to find his showboating to the audience completely annoying. We have come so far. Now, I would do anything to bring him back.
Soon, they show Radia's dress reveal, which I am sure has become iconic in the Capitol this year. Over the struggle of seeing Radia once again, I clap for Tatiana in front of the camera. When I appear on the screen, they play my interview in full, and the reactions by the audience here now just echoes what's on screen.
The cut to the bloodbath happens so quick, and when it shows the perspective of one of the tributes rising on their plates into the arena, I suddenly feel sick. I want to turn off the camera, or block my ears and run off stage. I do not want to see nine tributes die one after the other, some of them being so close, but I have to.
And see I do. They show every death, from Abel's head being smashed up close to Guano being shot by Imogen. Ryno was right, Steffi was killed by Quentin just as he'd described. My earlier allies, Connie and Greig, were speared by Mariana and strangled by Virgil respectively. I was surprised to find out that Victoria was killed by Ringo. I try so hard to stay in my seat, the fullness in my throat only emptying slowly when I look at my team.
Intermittently between the deaths, they update the audience of my position, which is mostly still on the plate, then the camera follows me, cutting quickly to another death and then returning back to me until I fake my death. The Capitol seems to like what I did there, but I think they just support everything that their victor does in the arena. Soon, they're going to be cheering for me while I defecate in that small building.
It is good they don't show that. They instead show the Careers quickly gathering up their supplies in the cornucopia and rigging them. After quickly showing the Careers and Magnus scouting the arena with Elaine sneaking behind them, and District 10 settling in the South Garden, they skip forward to when I meet Radia.
They show some of our conversations, and then some fantastic editing to when we notice the Careers coming, to actually cutting to the Careers approaching us. When they show our escape to the East Walls, they follow with the Careers moving to the Northern Straightaway, and as they notice the markings on the back of the Palace, Radia and I notice the walls can spin. They zoom in on the markings so closely to tell everybody watching that it is deliberate, of course. Jade is the first to point out the drawbridge and figure out it's a puzzle. She is surprisingly smart for a tribute from District 1. Then they show the Careers discussing a search for me to solve the puzzle, based on Guano's recommendation. To my surprise, they do not consider killing me after I've done my job.
Then with some suspense, the film shows Radia's death. Another surprise is that they don't show me reacting to this in the corner of the screen. I am glad, because I am devastated. It feels like my heart has been broken once more. It was the first time I have felt so terrible, and the first is always the worst. I catch Jovan looking at me in alarm, and I turn back to the screen. I am already running away. They have skipped my whole farewell to Radia and also her last words. What? That is not respectful at all, not showing how Radia left this world, especially to her family, who probably won't have closure. Why?
I look at these staggered clips of me running. I look indifferent. I get it. I fucking get it.
They're treating me as if the relationships I haven't aren't genuine. As if I've intended for Radia to die and for me to leave immediately. Are they saying that I'm faking my actions to gain other's trust, just to actually win these Games? I am gutted. They are twisting the very person that I am into some wicked boy who actually does not care about who he is with. It is absolutely appalling. These Games have turned into factions and false relationships, rather than the harvesting of kindness and positivity. I do not know how I should react to this. My fear is that the people in the districts will not see through this edit and remember what actually happened, and instead see me as another terrible and selfish victor. The people who I wanted to fight for will no longer like me. My reputation will be unmanageably low. I should have just died in the arena.
Next: 41 - The Decision; The Decision Division Two (14.2)
