Clair Mushroom, Victor

I lay awake a long time before I opened my eyes. I could hear there were people around my bed, both medics and probably at least one of the Seven mentors. I wasn't ready for them yet. I had to sort things out with myself first.

The returning knowledge that Oaken was gone had settled on me so slowly that I hadn't moved throughout it. I lay motionless, feeling like I was in stasis and any movement would force me to continue my life without him. Oaken is dead, I thought the words one-by-one in my mind's eye. It didn't seem real yet, which was probably why I wasn't falling apart. It was true but not real. He was just away somewhere. It was bothersome, because I'd just won the Hunger Games, and my first thought was to share the news with him.

I opened my eyes impulsively before I could think better of it. It was Loki who was there to greet me. I was glad for it. He'd had a rough time after his own victory and had a sensitive air about him because of it. Also he was an orphan. He'd never known his parents but he still had some feeling of loss. He seemed conflicted as he looked at me. He didn't want to make it worse but couldn't see anything that would make it better.

"I don't want to talk about it," I said, and it was clear what it was. I would eventually but not until I'd worked through it by myself first. I sat up slowly in bed and felt an unfamiliar weight on my chest. My breasts were larger than they had been before. I put a hand on one and could only be grateful they weren't comically large. It was still a violation but after all the violations I'd been through it was one I could bear. Loki looked away shyly at the sight of me hefting my breast.

There was a mirror on a table by my bed. I picked it up and braced myself. Like my breasts, it wasn't unbearable. My hair was wavier and free of the grease and snarls I'd picked up in the Arena. My skin was a little shinier and oddly smooth and my lips were a little fuller. I looked older and very much more sexual but I could still see my own face underneath. The biggest difference was my eyes had a slight and soulful downturn. The cut on my cheek was gone but it still felt weirdly different to talk.

"There was some nerve damage in your cheek," Loki explained. "They tried to fix it but nerves are just hard. They adjusted a few nerves under your other eye and injected wrinkle relaxer in both sides of your face so everything would match.

The Arena will be with me forever, then. Not just in my thoughts but written on my face. I was a new person. The trite platitudes were endless. Part of my face felt like that first flex after a sleeping body part woke up and I'd have that feeling for the rest of my life. Guess I'll age well, I thought perversely. So I got that going for me.

The stylists buzzed around me like the sound of distant chainsaws. Things seemed to be happening to me and not by me. I was withdrawn in my own thoughts. Memories of the distant past and of recent events jumbled over each other, numbed by the knowledge that the future was coming and wouldn't wait for me to get there.

"Such beautiful puppy-dog eyes," one of the stylists sighed as he painted eyeliner onto me.

Thanks, I thought. I got them when a girl kicked me in the face.

Caesar was in front of me. I was wearing some dress and sitting beside a screen that covered most of the wall. He asked some questions and I mumbled answers.

"We all mourn with you for the loss of your brother." My brain pricked up at the word brother. Caesar tried to cover a still-visible cringe as he forced himself to continue. "How do you feel about that?"

It was clear he'd been forced to say it. Just like I was being forced to answer, which I did in an absent tone. "I don't much like it at all."

"Let's see some recap!" Caesar said too quickly. He pivoted in his chair and cued the recording. My brain skimmed over the images of the Bloodbath and the cinematic moments- most of which hadn't included me and Oaken- and some feel-good moments sprinkled in. I let my eyes glaze over when we fought Alysanne. There was only a single clip from our last day together- a clip of us dropping the ink bomb- and then the Oaken jumping. The entire finale played out in real time while I wondered what looked so unreal and distant about the high-definition broadcast.

I missed my cue to stand when the Anthem started playing. I only stood when I noticed Caesar subtly jerking his head toward the pathway on the stage where I was supposed to meet President Snow. I walked quickly to the marked spot.

It didn't mean much to me to meet President Snow. I wasn't significant to him and thus wasn't in any danger from him. I was just an appointment on his schedule and he was just my last obstacle to getting off the stage. It wasn't until I'd scuttled offstage and sat in an empty makeup room that I took off the crown and looked at it. It was almost entirely glass, separate panes held together by a thin skeleton of metal, yet another reminder that the Arena would always be with me.

Just a few more chapters and then another one will be in the bag. PS I was thinking of making the next Games a voting Games. Thought I'd put out feelers now to see if anyone would want to change their Tribute or not have a voting element because of their Tribute.