Eight hours after the end of the 9th Hunger Games:

Her reflection looked nothing like her.

Yeah, Elise knew she had been all cleaned up and prettied. It had taken a long time to wash all the dirt off her. Her face was scrubbed until her skin was blotchy and red. Her still damp hair, a cold tangled mess on her head. Her arms and legs waxed, still feeling sore from the strips her prep team used to pull off anything they didn't want on her body.

They couldn't get rid of her eye bags just yet. Or the way she dug her fingers under the sink, the pounding of her heart, the little goose bumps that appeared on her limbs whenever she heard a brand new noise. But if she didn't go looking for those imperfections, she might not have noticed them. On the surface, nothing was out of place.

She looked good.

She didn't feel good.

Nice appearances, Elise thought, were for heroes.

Beauty was a hero thing. Heroes whose good deeds and golden hearts shone from within, allowing them to look as perfect and as angelic as they truly were. Elise was not a hero. She killed three people. Nothing heroic about that.

That was finally starting to set in. In the arena, she never really gave it much thought. But now she had all the time in the world to dwell on her actions.

Maybe they deserved it? Maybe they were slightly more evil than her? Maybe there was a way to justify these deeds?

No. She couldn't fool herself like that. There was no justifying what she had done. She was not any better than Weller, than Stravos...then Clair, who Elise thought might've been too good for all of them. She was just the survivor, and that meant it was her story being told. And bad guys almost never won, so they'd never portray her as vengeful and as ruthless as she truly was. She had to be the good guy for the cameras and the audience. The Capitol said she was the hero. Even if she knew better.

Who would be playing the part of Elise Starbright tonight?

There was a knock at the door. Oops. She might've stayed in here for too long. Surely her prep team and her escort and her mentor would all be looking for her. There was still a lot to get done for her big interview and Elise was just wasting everyone's time by hanging out in the bathroom.

Elise quickly dried her hands on a towel hung on the wall, taking a moment to run the soft threads of fabric through her fingers. Then she opened the door to see her mentor, Foxy, waiting for her. "There you are. You ready?"
"Are we having dinner first?" Food was the only thing Elise wanted right now. "I'm kind of hungry."
"Of course. Come with me."

Dinner was awesome. Roast beef drowning in a rich gravy, complete with a salad and garlic bread on the side. It could've been a slice of spam she was eating and she wouldn't have cared. The food was heavenly. Elise had to force herself to slow down and not devour everything at once. It didn't matter. Her portions were being really controlled anyways. But she still felt full afterwards, and it was a very welcome feeling.

Now it was time to get dressed up again. Not that Elise hated this part, because who didn't want to look their best every once in a while? But did she really deserve it? Did she really get to wear the sparkly gowns and shoes and necklaces that came with winning? What good was a prize she paid for in dead bodies?

At least the dress was beautiful.

It was white and silver, and made of delicate lace that softly wrapped around both of her arms. The dress trailed about a foot on the ground behind her, with a light grey trim at the bottom and around her neck. Her hair was pinned up to reveal the silver leaf painted on her back. The last addition was a white shawl carefully draped around her shoulders. Elise carefully twirled in front of the floor-length mirror and smiled to herself.

Yep, she was ready for the next interview. Physically, at least. Mentally, she was terrified and wanted to lock herself in her bedroom until the Sun rose. But Victors couldn't be so childish and emotional, not in the eyes of the rest of Panem. She had survived worse, after all.

So why did she feel like throwing up?

Elise decided to just suck it up and convince herself that the lingering guilt, doubt and anxiety would just wash pass over her like a thunderstorm. She was still alive. She still had plenty of years left to live and she was looking forward to that. After all, it was an opportunity for her that had escaped the clutches of 23 dead hands, 23 children lost to the sky. SHe was the lucky one left.

Elise Starbright, Victor of the 9th Hunger Games. What a title. It would certainly take getting used to.

God, the stage lights were just too bright. She fought the urge to shield her eyes and glanced around for something easier to look at. She eventually settled on Foxy in the front row, the only other person in District 1 who knew exactly what she was going through. He gave her a thumbs-up and she smiled, but it didn't comfort her at all.

The crowd burst into applause. She swore she could hear someone chanting her name. She hadn't even done anything yet and they were all too excited just to see her.

She gave them her best showstopping grin, trying to slip into the persona that the Capitol probably wanted to see from her. Just this morning Elise's face had been covered in blood as she sent two tributes to their deaths. Now, she was like a little porcelain doll that was dressed up and place on display for the Capitolites to gawk at.

But once this interview was over, she could soon go home.

Watching the Games again felt like a surreal nightmare. Elise never really had nightmares, but she imagined if this was to haunt her dreams, she'd never want to wake up again. So many of the tributes, even herself, seemed to just tear each other apart like the other tributes were old dolls. It had not been that easy. Nothing in that footage had ever been as easy as it looked.

Although, who'd believe her? Who'd believe that a Victor had her moments of doubt and weakness?

Victors were strong. They were made of gold and silver. They were Capitol darlings. So Elise continued to smile and wave and maybe even suck up a little. This came so naturally to her, even if in her head she knew it was all fake.

They absolutely loved the "pretend to be weak" trick that got Stravos and Weller. Elise was willing to bet some of the audience initially fell for it too, even if nobody was coming clean. She did feel a bit proud of herself for thinking up a plan on the spot like that, in the face of danger and death. After all, she managed to walk out of both skirmishes alive. It saved her life.

So why did she feel like vomiting?

Did every Victor feel like this watching the recaps of their Games?

Once she saw the fanfare and the announcement be made to a sixteen year-old girl covered in both her blood and someone else's, Elsie was more than ready to say goodnight and hop off the stage. Her slim silver heels were starting to pinch. But no, there were still more questions to be asked and answered. Elise could tell by the host's awkward laughter that these were Capitolite-submitted and she was avoiding asking the much more inappropriate ones, even if a few slipped through the cracks.

How long had she and Stravos been rivals? "Only since we got on the train to the Capitol. Never really liked him much. But rivals is a bit of a stretch, isn't it?"

How close had she been to Bellona? This was a trick question, but Elise had already thought of what she wanted to say. "She was a very strong and formidable ally. That's it."

Was it something more? "Oh, no, no, no. Heavens no."

What was it like finally killing the last tribute left? "I don't know. It's a moment that basically sealed their fate and mine, so it's much too difficult for me to point it in words, as much as I'd like to try." She didn't mention how much it had hurt.

Who was the toughest opponent she faced? "Hmmmmmm. I think they were all tough in their own right. Stravos was very cunning. Weller was probably the strongest tribute in the arena. But Clair really had a drive that I wasn't expecting. That made them the hardest fight because they didn't want to give up."

God, was this interview done yet?

No more questions. No more tight shoes. She tried to think of what she wanted to do afterwards. Sink into a nice, warm bed. Jump on the next train home. Just be out of the Capitol and never come back. Except she'd always be back, to mentor and watch more kids be sent to their deaths.

Maybe she didn't want to be a Victor anymore.

She just wanted to be Elise Starbright.

Elise cried herself to sleep for about half an hour, until she was finally too exhausted to continue.

The train was going as fast as it could. To Elise, it was taking a lifetime. Not even searching the kitchen for a snack, watching tapes of the previous Games, or even taking a nap was distracting her. She just wanted to be home.

Foxy was calmly sipping a latte; how he could remain so stoic was a mystery to her. "Hey, just relax and calm down. We'll be there in less than half an hour."
"You're sure this train can't go any faster."
"Unless you want to die in an accident, I'm afraid not."

Fair enough. Elise slumped in her seat. She stared out the window. The scenery they had passed by looked so gorgeous. All these trees and rivers, and forests and animals. Yes, Panem was truly a beautiful place when it was untouched by the Games, the poverty, the rebel vs Loyalist divide...

Five minutes passed. Then ten. Then fifteen. Then twenty, twenty-five, and she could see the outskirts of District 1 coming closer and closer. It was tempting to just smash the windows and hop out. But she stayed put.

They stopped moving.

The doors opened.

Elise didn't hesitate to run out. The crowd was deafening and there were all sorts of people reaching out to touch her. She was just looking for one person, one single face. It was all she could bring herself to care about. She shoved through everyone as they continued to chant her name. It felt much more genuine than the reaction in the Capitol.

The Capitol only cared about their Victor. District 1 cared about her.

She finally spotted him.

Thankfully, the people around her parted, giving her a clear pathway into his arms. She ran as fast as she could go and threw herself into them. She kicked up her legs , wrapped them around his waist and nearly knocked both of them to the ground as he steadied himself while holding her. Elise began to sob. Her father was crying as well. He kissed her on the head, then whispered in her ear.

"Welcome home, baby girl. I knew you could do it."

First epilogue complete! And we get to see the worst for Elise is over, and she finally gets to be home with her dad.

Next chapter will be bit of a farewell to our other twenty-three tributes and me putting the cover on their stories, because I feel a bit bad cheating them out of the F8 interviews lol. Will probably take a lot long to write so stay tuned for that. See you all then.

-Vr