Finnick Odair, aged 14. District 4
It's a week before Valeria Alves comes to see him. She's even more beautiful than he remembers- curly long, brown hair and big brown eyes and freckles. And nothing added- no sparkly gems embedded in her skin, no gold tattoos across her cheekbones, no brightly coloured talons for finger nails. Just her, Valeria. Just a girl, a beautiful girl who hasn't been tainted by the Capitol. Just the sight of her reminds Finnick of 'before'. 'Before', when he was just a fisherman's son. 'Before' when everything was so much simpler.
She greets him tentatively, obviously not sure whether things are different now he's gone off to the Capitol and found his way home again. Is she expecting him to be different now? More confident? More traumatised? She stares appreciatively around at his new house- the walls are white and the ceilings are high and Finnick hates it more than he ever thought he would. It doesn't feel like home, and in this new world- the 'After' world, where everything is new and unfamiliar- Finnick longs for anything that will remind him of how everything used to be.
"How are you, Finnick?" She asks after a time. It's what everyone wants to know. The doctors in the Capitol kept asking him as they poked and prodded at his body. Caesar Flickerman wanted to know when he interviewed Finnick on his last day in the Capitol. It's the only thing his family seems to be able to say to him these days. How is he? Finnick has never been less sure of the answer to that question, so he tells her what she wants to hear.
"I'm fine," he says.
For a while they talk about the Capitol, and Finnick tells her all about the food and the showers and the buildings and the strange fashions. He doesn't mind talking about this. This is easy. He's good at talking about things like this. They don't mention the Games- it remains and unspoken rule between them not to bring it up.
"I missed you," she whispers, pushing herself closer to him, obviously waiting for him to make the final move. And he does, moving his hand into her hair and pulling her head toward his.
For a moment, everything is perfect. Valeria's lips move against his- her mouth is warm and wet and familiar and Finnick forgets everything else and focuses only on the way it feels to be kissing her in this moment. And then suddenly he's not there anymore, and it's not Valeria he's kissing, and as he pushes her away he watches the shock flicker across her face as she feels the knife in her back. Blood begins to trickle out of the corner of her mouth and then suddenly it's all over his hands and everything is red, red, red, and it's Sagitarria's eyes staring blankly back at him, dead, dead, dead.
"Finnick? Finnick?" She's shaking his shoulder and that's when he realises that he's hunched over and his head is in his bloody palms and his breaths are coming fast and heavy. He tries to slow them, remembering what Mags said about counting to three before breathing out again.
"Are you OK?" Valeria is saying. Valeria with her big brown eyes, and not Sagitarria's glassy dead stare. Because Sagitarria couldn't possibly be here, because Finnick killed her. He shoved his knife in her back and now's she's dead.
Finnick tried to answer her, but he can't form the words. She reads it in his face anyway.
"I'm sorry," she says later. "I'm sorry you had to go through that."
When she leaves, they both understand that she's not coming back. She's another thing the Games have taken from him.