And we're bbaaaccckkk! England is heading into Lockdown the Sequel, so I should have a little more time to get my final updates done! I'm so sad that we're so close to the end, but I hope the ending is satisfying for you all. Here is the first part of the Victor's Tour, it was far too long to put in one chapter, so I hope you enjoy!
Victor's Tour
Florence
For the first time in her life, Florence woke up alone. Throughout her childhood, she had always shared a room with one of her siblings, in the Capitol she had been with Flynt, and in the Games, well, everyone knew what happened in there.
She had been dropped off at the hotel all the tributes had been brought to on their very first night, but everything was so different now. Before, they had all been filled with nerves and anticipation, all trying to make friends and alliances. Florence was alone now, she had no one to talk to or laugh with, and despite being the only one of the 24 to still be breathing, she couldn't have felt more defeated. The only thing that made the girl wake up that morning, and get ready to face the day, was the fact that in a few short hours, she would be reunited with her family.
"Miss Maughan?" The cheery voice of Florence's chief stylist, Vanilla, forced the girl to move. "I'm here to get you ready for the day." The woman bundled into the room before Florence even had a chance to say hello, already setting up her station.
"I'm just seeing my family? They're used to me looking like a mess, I don't need all this." Florence countered, as she was ushered, rather forcefully to a seat, the assertive hands of Vanilla already scraping back her hair off of her face.
"Your family isn't who we're making you look nice for." Vanilla smiled, fastening Florence's hair back, and reaching for a makeup brush. "You've showered, that's helpful."
"Sorry, who else is going to be there?"
"You're a victor now, everyone is going to want a glimpse of you. And that's without even mentioning the cameras." A grin spread over Vanilla's face, as if she was expecting Florence to be excited by that prospect. All the girl felt was sick.
"Oh." Florence shook her head. She wanted to see her family and break down. That was it. But in front of all those people, all those cameras, nothing could be authentic.
Vanilla gave Florence's shoulder a quick squeeze, clearly knowing what she was going for, if not really understanding it. She allowed herself to give her stylist a small smile, appreciating the small sign of friendship. "Don't worry, I'll make sure the cameras see just how beautiful you've made me look."
"Oh, it's not hard, miss." Vanilla offered, fastening Florence's hair into a loose bun at the top of her head. "You're already stunning." She retreated, and Florence took it as her signal to stand up, walking over to the full length mirror in the corner of her room.
"My…" Florence stumbled backwards, holding her hands to her cheeks. It was the first time she had seen herself in two weeks, and the differences to the girl she knew before were endless. To say she barely recognised herself would be an understatement. And it wasn't just the treatment Vanilla had given her- the make up, the pretty skirt, and straightened hair. It was her physicality. Her cheeks were sunken, her collar bones prominent, caused by the lack of food, but her legs and arms were toned in ways they never had been before. Florence knew what a mess she had looked yesterday, after they pulled her out of the Cornucopia, she had seen pictures of past victors, how broken and destroyed they looked. But Florence found herself almost pretty now. She supposed love really was a healer.
A knock on the door pulled the girl away from the mirror, but Vanilla answered it before she got the chance. An avox stood, nodding at Florence, and she knew it was her time to leave. She quickly embraced Vanilla. "I'll see you on the train." She mumbled, heading out the door.
Florence could only look at the floor as she exited the hotel. Everything here reminded her of the people she had lost. It was here she had spoken properly to Alfred the first time, where her little crush developed. She had been so completely oblivious to what they would become. It was this place she had met the other 23 for the first time, all equally as nervous, but yet strangely comforted that they were all together. She had grown close to Flynt, and fallen in love with Lya's sense of adventure and determination. It was here she had met the people that she wanted to spend the rest of her life with. And now, they were all just ghosts.
All too soon, she was out, standing on the steps of the hotel entrance, an endless sea of people surrounding her. A wave of sickness and claustrophobia took over the girl, there was no escape, no way out, she was trapped, by fans and well wishers, and cameras. Florence turned, ready to run back inside, she wasn't yet ready to face the world.
Then, her eyes caught a familiar face, and everything else disappeared. "Daddy!" Florence screamed, running into the arms of her father, standing to her left. He embraced, holding her tight, their tears mixing together. The pair fell to the floor, still hugging, now joined by Florence's seven siblings and her mother. It was a complete mess, of tears and hugging and laughing, so unlike what Florence had supposed the Capitol had been hoping for. She had felt so lost, so broken by the Games, but for these few precious minutes, she was fixed.
They tried, as long as they could, to ignore the cheers of the crowd, and the clicking of cameras, but eventually, the family rose to their feet, whole once again.
Mox
"I could burn it all down." The woman spat, her face inches from that of Clarence Hogborn, the chief Peacekeeper. The old Mox would never have dared to face up to anyone this way, especially as some as powerful and feared as Hogborn. But she was no longer fighting for herself. She was a mother now, and it was her responsibility to give the child inside her the life she had always been denied. "I could ruin everything." Mox snarled again, close enough to the man to see the sweat forming at the corners of his mouth. He was close to breaking, which Mox was thankful for, they had been in this argument for hours.
She wanted to leave. She needed to leave the Capitol, but of course, her wish was not something they wanted to grant. Mox had done well the past few days as Head Gamemaker, she had captured a new audience that the Games had ever managed to tap into. She had focused on the psychological side, the fears, and friendships and betrayal, something the Capitol had tried in the past but always failed to do. Of course they weren't going to just let her go, she had a lifetime of work left to do. Mox had kicked, she had screamed, cried and pleaded. And now, well, now she had turned to the thing she knew best: straight up cheating, bribery.
"What if they knew, huh?" She spent back, much to Hogborn's relief, folding her arms over her chest, a smirk forming on her lips. "What if the people knew just what a mess we were here? The President that has been in a coma for most of my life, the fact that the only images the Districts ever see of him are holograms, or fakes. How do you think they would react to know that really, there's no one in charge?" Mox paused, letting out a long breath. "Come on, Hogborn, don't you think the people would just love to know that?"
Hogborn felt his height drop by about a foot as he shrunk into himself. He had never thought Mox would resort to such dirty tactics, she must have been much more desperate than he had anticipated. But, Clarence Hogborn would not let underestimation be his downfall.
"Mox." Now it was his time to close the gap, stepping towards the woman. "We may be leaderless, but we are certainly not powerless. We have more men than ever before. Any hint of a rebellion and it will be crushed. Whatever you say about Snow, we can handle it."
"Oh, Hogborn, clueless Hogborn." Mox whistled. "It's not just Snow they would find out about. Oh no. I could tell them about the Games. About how they barely reach a million viewers a day. About how so many people have decided not to watch that the Peacekeepers can no longer prosecute them all. That doesn't seem very strong Clarence, that doesn't seem very powerful at all. What do you think the Districts will do when they realise that the Games have no control anymore? That every year we kill 23 of their people for absolutely no reason? Hell, even the Capitol couldn't care less about the Games. They're old and worn out and useless. Don't you think the people would want to know that?"
Clarence Hogborn knew when to admit defeat, and this was one of those moments. He nodded slowly. Enough was enough. Mox could no longer be fought. "The Capitol will be keeping tabs on you. If there is any suspicion that this information has got out, we won't hesitate to act." He spoke sternly. "And once you leave, you're gone. That's it. There's no coming back from this."
Mox knew that the man was trying to scare her into staying, but nothing would work. She had her heart set on a life in the Districts and no amount of Capitol threat could change that. Mox nodded, standing up for her seat.
"The Victor's Tour leaves in thirty minutes. Be on that train." Hogborn spat, as Mox exited without another word.
"I don't want to talk about it." Florence repeated for the fiftieth time that hour. The Maughan's had made it onto the train, now speeding it's way towards District Twelve, the Victory Tour commencing later that evening. It was only in Florence's lifetime that the Victory Tour had started right after the Games. Until the 110th year, the Capitol waited six months before forcing the winner to face the family and friends of the people that had died so that they could live. But, it had become clear that that wait was too long. The Capitol wanted it straight away, or they got bored, disinterested, within six months, people could barely remember the name of the most recent victor.
"That's okay, baby." Charles Maughan smoothed down the hair on his daughter's head, bringing her in for a hug. "Whenever you're ready, we'll talk about it." Florence knew she would never be ready, but didn't have the heart to break that to her family.
They wanted to know every second of what she had been through in the Games, as if somehow that would make it okay. But every time Florence thought back to the arena, she only saw the last five minutes, the face of her lover, who had sacrificed himself to give her freedom.
She ran her hand across her forehead, still surprised when it came away clear and not covered in blood or mud. Florence lent against her father's side, the calming presence of the man was about all that was keeping her from tearing the walls of the train down. She hated everything about the life she had now. Despite knowing she was out of harm, that no one would ever hurt her again, there was no way she could relax. The Games had taken away the part of her that felt comfortable, that enjoyed the simple act of living. She felt powerless, stranded, so alone, despite the fact that she would never be without a host of stylists, or guards or fans ever again.
"We arrive in District Twelve in three hours. I recommend you have a nap, after today it's non-stop." There was warmth in Mox's voice as she sat across from the Maughan's. Florence wanted nothing more than to wipe the smile off of the woman's face, but something about it felt genuine. That and Florence didn't have the energy to move an inch. She only nodded, refusing to catch the eye of the Head Gamemaker. Usually at this point the Gamemakers had left the victor, so Mox's being here started alarm bells ringing in Florence's head. What other surprises did they have in store for her?
The girl merely grunted in response, receiving a sharp elbow to her side from her father. At that moment, she wanted to hit him, too. Sure, manners had always been a key focus for her parents, but this woman had tortured her for weeks, thirteen hours was a bit too soon for them to become friends. Still, she looked up, focusing on the wall behind Mox, rather than the woman herself. "What about speeches? What am I supposed to say?"
Mox let out a short laugh, slapping her hands against her legs. "For all I care you can do a one woman performance of Hamilton." Florence looked at the woman properly for the first time. It wasn't just her warmth that was startling. Mox was wearing beige tracksuit bottoms and a white top. The only other time Florence had seen her in person, she had been wearing the smartest outfit she had ever seen.
"You're leaving, aren't you?" Florence spoke before she could stop herself. "Were we not interesting enough for you?"
The Gamemaker smiled, standing up. "I thought it was something I wanted, something I could do. But it's not. And I wish there was some way to take back everything I have done to you. I lost the man I loved in there too and now my child is going to grow up never meeting her father. I couldn't stay in that place a second longer." Mox and Florence locked eyes for a second, and the taller woman smiled at the victor, Florence unable to stop the way her lips slightly unturned to give her a small smile back. Quickly, the two both looked away, as if the moment of understanding that they had both shared had never existed at all. "Lyric Chamberlain will be by just before we arrive, he'll give some pointers of what to say on stage." She left the room, and Florence was left feeling a strange connection to the woman she hated more than anyone in the world.
District Twelve
"District Twelve, I welcome to the stage victor of the 125th Hunger Games, from District Seven, Florence Maughan."
The reception was beyond anything Florence could ever have imagined, especially considering she had helped kill the male tribute. But, the crowds cheered for her and screamed, and let her know that despite all that she had done, she had people on her side.
"For starters," She began, her hands shaking, as she held tighter on to the papers Chamberlain had provided her with. The Capitol had gotten so used to Victor's going off-script that they no longer wrote out full speeches, it was now just a list of bullet points that Florence had to somehow navigate through. "I never expected to be here. But I can never describe how thankful I am that I made it. That I can stand here in front of you and tell you how wonderful and brave your tributes were. Jordan was strong, he was so strong throughout it all. His sarcastic comments were annoying," She paused, letting out a light laugh. "So God damn annoying. But he never failed to make us laugh, or argue, but we'll go with laugh because this is about happy memories. He was the person that kept us all going when we were tired. He pushed us just that little bit further, made us fight just a little bit harder, and without that, I wouldn't be here today."
Florence was surprised how her nerves fell away as she talked about her fellow tributes, it was almost as if she could feel them next to her, spurring her on. She glanced over to where the families of the tributes stood. There was no one for Jordan, and that made her heart break.
"Jordan has no family here." She spoke, feeling tears well at the corner of his eyes. "No one that will miss him. So I'm making that me. I am Jordan's family, and as long as I live, I will remember him and I will keep fighting and smiling, because that's what he was all about." Now it was time to talk about Lilac, something Florence could help but dread. "Anyone who watched the Games will know that Lilac was my friend. That girl had so much love to give, and what happened to her is an injustice I will never forgive the world for." She caught the eye of the Lilac's family, and gave them a sad smile. They weren't crying, as Florence had expected of the parents of the deceased, but instead, they stood tall and proud, giving her reassuring nod. "Lilac was the person that gave me hope. She represented everything that was good in the world, she was pure and sweet, and reminded me that in a world of monsters and hate, there is a scrap of goodness left. She was that goodness, and I really hope I have managed to capture even a little bit of that." Florence shook a shaky breath, looking down at the cards, knowing the closing two sentences were the only ones she actually had to say. "District Twelve, we thank you so much for your tributes, for your sacrifice. May the odds be ever in your favour."
As Florence exited the stage, ready to retreat back to the train, she caught sight of Mox embracing a man. The ex-Gamemaker saw Florence staring, and made a beeline for the girl, before she could turn away.
"This is my stop, you'll be happy to know." Mox smiled, holding her hand out for Florence to shake.
The victor debated taking it, but there was no denying that the woman looked broken, the last thing she needed was the cruelness Florence would provide by failing to shake her hand. She gripped Mox's hand, and as the woman tried to pull herself away, Florence only managed to hold on tighter. "Stay." Florence mumbled, forcing herself to look at Mox. Although every fibre of her body told her to walk away and stop talking, her mind was strong enough to fight it. "You're the only person here who ever met Alfred. I need you to remind me that he was real." She let out a choked sob, finally releasing Mox's hand. The Gamemaker took a step closer, before pulling Florence into a hug, the girl sobbing against the taller woman's chest.
"I'll stay as long as you need."
I never knew how much I needed Florence and Mox to be friends until now, wow.
Ahhhhhhh, I've been writing Florence's little eulogy things to the tributes in all the Districts and it's making me really emotional, wow, I feel so bad for killing all these people off.
Anyway, it's going to be nice to revisit and read about all the old tributes again, although it might be a little while until the update is finish, I have a verryyy large amount of essays to write... that I've barely started...
Hope you're all staying safe and well, and thank you so much for reading!
Until next time,
Alice xxx
