District One is cool and bleak when we step off the train, which is good because my head is still pounding through the painkiller pills Acanthus gave me. By the time I've completed a tour of several prominent shops selling various luxury items, the sun has fought through the clouds and has tinted the Main Square a faint gold. This doesn't help with the persistent throbbing and my Escort reluctantly doses me with some more tablets shortly before I have to go on stage.

The Victory Rally here is just as well attended as in District Two or at home, though the fashions and finery on display could almost pass for the Capitol. I'd planned to spend the morning working out what additions to make to the provided speeches about my former allies. Instead I slept through several of the prep team's attempts to wake me – Pelagius eventually dragged me to the shower and blasted me with cold water.

Citrine is easy enough to talk about and I praise her courage, determination and quiet strength. I wasn't directly involved in her death and even took care of her killer. Her parents and sisters cheer as loudly as anyone when I take the stage. Talking about my complicated relationship with Angelus is far harder. No matter what I want to say, in the end it was my spear through his body that took his life. He started the fight and I feel less bad about that kill than any of the others, but I refuse to be the sort of victor who gloats about the failings of their victims.

I doubt his family (and friends, if he had any) are going to like me any more or less, no matter what I say. The scripted line Acanthus provided me praises Angelus for being a dedicated competitor with strong convictions. I decide not to try adding anything more. His parents maintain a stoic look of false cheer while hiding their dislike, though what looks to be a much younger brother and sister seem more enthusiastic in their cheering - I half wonder if he bullied them like he tried to bully me.

Once the Mayor has completed his own speech and presented me with the plaque we are shepherded into the Justice Building where my prep team descend on me. Euthalia brings me a plate of plain cheese sandwiches which I inhale since I couldn't keep down breakfast and it's now mid-afternoon. She and Theodorous patch up the make-up around my eyes and spend over an hour fixing my hair. When they are done Pelagius helps me into tight black pants with embroidered emeralds running up the seams and a shiny green shirt that appears to have holes in it. They don't even make a pattern, though I guess they do show off a reasonable amount of my bare skin. I even get a light-weight jacket to go over the top, though Pelagius passes on that I'm supposed to remove this once we get inside. I look at him through my still-aching head and itching eyes, wincing as the aches and bangs from several hours of wild dancing make themselves known again as I pull my arms through the tight sleeves. Pelagius winks at me and declares that he was told to deliver the message, not enforce it.

I prefer uncomfortably tight to freezing my ribs off and keep it on throughout the formal dinner. Apparently the Victory Tour usually spends two nights in District One, but they've cut it short this year so that they can host extra events in the Capitol. The mayor seems a little put out by this and on reflection, I decide an extra night in the districts would have been preferable to whatever craziness is waiting for me in the Capitol.

I spend a lot more time at this party talking to different people, and not entirely by choice. I get the distinct impression that in District One, it's all about being seen with the right people. I am crowded by well-wishers who want to ensure they can say that they have spoken to me, or in many cases advised me on whatever luxuries are their speciality. I feel my head start to ache again, despite the fresh dose of painkillers as I am loaded up with information about wines, ports, the current fashion in gemstone cuts, artisan bracelets, fancy clothing fabrics and even perfumes and other make-up products.

There's no crazy dance floor here, though a few couples start doing a paired dance similar to what we were taught the basics of in Four when a young man starts up on a piano. Two girls join him on a violin and flute (one I recognize as the mayor's daughter) and after a few sets, Lapis the victor from two years ago joins the musicians for a few songs on his trumpet, showing off his moderate talent that he has been developing. I get to chat with him not long after his performance when he waves me over to the bar and insists on getting me a drink.

"I saw the Tour broadcast this morning," Lapis says as he watches the man pouring a rainbow of colors into a wide glass. "Looked like Two put on their usual crazy show. Did Enobaria catch up with you?"

"She made me drink something heavy," I say with a rueful grin. "Good for dancing though."

"Dancing, yes," he days as he shoves one of the glasses towards me, sipping his own through a long straw. I do the same and find it's almost painfully sweet.

"It looked like you got to do a good bit of dancing with lots of different people. Men and women both."

He gives me a pointed look and I shrug, still a little hazy on some of the memories. "Sure. It was fun, though I'm still feeling some of the bruises. Might be nice to do with some safer dancers."

Lapis tilts his head, thinking for a moment before responding. "I'm not sure I'd call ahem, dancing, in the Capitol any safer. But there will certainly be a variety of partners and I expect you'll have plenty of people keen to make your acquaintance over the next few years."

I realize what he's getting at and give him a firm nod, appreciating the warning as I did from Piper. "So I've heard from some others. I think I'm as ready for it as I can be."

"Good. That's good." He nods back, then grins wickedly. "Have you had the chance to make the close acquaintance of some of the lovely ladies of One? Or are our men more to your preference?"

I think about the people who have been talking at me all evening – most of them were older and while there are a decent number of young people at the party, they have mostly stayed in their little clusters so far. "None in particular," I tell him. "Any pretty ladies you'd suggest I get to know a little better?"

He grins and slings an arm around my shoulder like I have done many times in the past to Oris. "Well there's the mining crew." He points to four girls who look a year or two older than me, all very attractive and provocatively dressed, who are chatting together by the edge of the dance floor. They apparently see Lapis pointing as one of them blows him a kiss and another waves at us to join them.

"Mining crew?" I ask, trying to imagine what jobs in the upper ranks of the luxury district would involve digging in the ground– something that is generally the province of Districts Twelve and Two.

"Oh yeah. Always a few of them about, digging for the gold in someone else's pocket. Mostly girls, every now and then a boy, pretty enough to be arm candy. As soon as one of them snares one of the available top-enders in a marriage contract, there's another two ready to shovel in as the lover on the side. Some of the really rich folks in our fine District upgrade their spouse every ten years or so and have a couple of other flings on the go at once. It's no different in the Capitol. You'll see."

I try to imagine what it must be like living in a loveless household where your father kicks out your mother for a younger woman. No wonder so many kids from One are willing to volunteer for the Games, it's not like they have a happy family life to live otherwise. Then I imagine someone trying to tell Greta that she's too old and no longer valued, and grin. Anyone who tried that on her would not be left with the parts to have fun with the next woman.

Lapis must mistake my expression for interest or approval as he points specifically to the girl that blew him a kiss. "Velvet, for example, knows how to have a great time, though she's just turned eighteen now and wants to get a husband locked away soon or else she'll be forced to settle for volunteering or actually working for a living. She decided she didn't want to wait for me to be free of my other obligations, but we had some fun and she likes to keep her hand in, so to speak. Fortune's a bit shy – she's only been hanging around the party scene for the last six months. Generally the boys and girls who reach the reaping stage just behind the winner get invites to the next lot of social events, especially if they've got the looks going. Fortune was only a step behind Citrine to the stage even though she's barely sixteen. Don't know if she was actually trying to volunteer or if she just wanted in with this crowd, but it's the easiest way for a kid from a poorer family to climb the social ladder. Especially if you make yourself friendly, if you get my drift."

He points to a different cluster of girls over by the dessert table who are disdainfully watching the 'mining crew' girls, while a boy around my age lurks near them, raiding the chocolate eclairs. "Some of the rich kids whose families manage the various industries and workshops, reporting directly to a Capitol Liaison. Most of them have their parents setting up marriage contracts to build business monopolies, whether they like it or not. Some of them try to volunteer if they don't like who was picked for them. Not as friendly as the mining crew and a heavy sense of entitlement, but hey, sometimes a challenge is fun and it's good practice for...you know."

I watch as a middle-aged man approaches this group and says something to the very pretty blonde girl near the table. He holds out a hand to her which she eyes as disdainfully as her friends were eyeing the 'mining crew'. The man says something sharp and stalks away while the group laughs.

"Girl's the niece of one of our older victors Glory," Lapis informs me. "His sister made good use of his fame and her looks to snag herself the richest fabric merchant in the District. Unlike most, the old man has stuck by his wife because he knows if he does any different that Glory'll murder him. I heard that they'd set up a marriage contract for Cashmere, but rumor also said she's not so keen on it. I wouldn't be surprised to see her on the reaping stage in June, I know she trains. So does Shine, got a great right punch that one." He grins at the pretty red-head who is nodding at her blonde friend's comments. When Shine glances our way and sees Lapis watching, she rolls her eyes at him before turning back to her group.

"Of course there's also the Capitol Liaisons, but you'll get enough of that sort soon enough."

I've actually been surprised how little the Capitol folk have been hitting on me and say so to Lapis as he calls a passing server for another round of drinks. I suddenly realize he is very drunk, which is why he's speaking so freely.

"This lot?" He waves his arm broadly towards a knot of people who are no better dressed than the majority of the party-goers, but do have some of the skin adornments such as tattoos or odd piercings that aren't usually seen in the Disticts.

"Prefer tits to abs, the lot of them. Even the ladies – two of them are having it off together, even though one of them is married - I'm sure the gossip will get back to the Capitol husband eventually. And then there's Prusella Court, she's the liaison for the perfume sector. Creepy as all hell but she's been quietly hitting on the pretty girls around town. Velvet told me, it's how she and Amethyst got the money for their new dresses. I'd even met her once before the Games, my mom was a technician in one of the perfume labs until the accident. Pru hasn't so much as tried to grope my ass in the three years I've known her so I figure she isn't into men. Now, Capitol men, a good lot of them go both ways, but still plenty that only want what nature intended. Seems we got a full crop of them here for now. I prefer it that way, more pretty girls for me. Excuse me."

He pushes away from the bar and heads initially towards Shine but side-tracks instead towards the restrooms. I glance around the room again and realize what one of the big differences between District One and the others has been – the Capitol Liaisons, all of whom I was introduced to earlier in the night, are here without their families. I guess it's only a short journey from One to the Capitol and the quality of living is probably enough for them that they don't feel the need to move their support systems out here. Just work for a few days of the week, then return home as needed. I wonder if they banned travel permits for Capitol citizens to holiday at their resort here in One during the Victory Tour or whether all the holiday takers are just visiting Four this year instead. Either way it's less stress for me, at least for tonight.

It does make me wonder if I'll be this cynical after a few years in the cycle. Two years down the track (or maybe five – Lapis was eighteen when he volunteered) whether I'll be telling the new victor all about which girls are easy to hit on and what the hot district gossip of the week is. I decide that when I get home I need to have a long talk with my family – all of them, no matter how embarrassing it is and ask them to help keep me grounded. I don't want to end up just another part of the freakshow, though it looks like I'll have to pretend that I am, at least some of the time.

I watch as the 'mining crew' girls disperse, each of them off to flirt with someone rich and older and I can't help but wonder what their stories are. Do they have no other option but volunteering for the Games or offering themselves up at parties in the hope of snaring a rich partner? Surely just working a good job would be easier.

Then again I think about home, where we have our own poor folk scraping by. Many people work the boats, the processing factories or the markets, but not everyone can do those things. People who get old and can't pull their weight, people who get hurt and can't manage the work any more. People like old Corrly Webster whose foot was crushed beyond repair when our boat went down, who had to wait over a year for a place to open up in the factories. No-one would hire him onto their crew when they had enough able-bodied options to choose from. People who have lost their fishing licence, who got in a fight with the wrong person and had rumors spread about them so that no-one will employ them. People who are left with poaching or scraping shells off the beach rocks and boiling seaweed because they have nothing else to eat.

Most of the kids who seriously train in Four are from better-off families; the training sessions run after school and apart from a few 'sponsored positions', charges a small fee to attend. Kids from families who are just getting by and don't have the resources to pay have to make do with the poorest training school where they hold basic classes for free one night each week. Kids whose families are really struggling often can't make the free lessons or take the sponsored spots as they need to work instead. Those of us who were lucky enough to come from households where the food was never short had the luxury of securing our futures in case we were ever called to the reaping stage. I think most people in Four who train do so for the peace of mind, rather than any plans of actually volunteering. I was one of the outliers, but I had my reasons. I guess the others who volunteer do too.

My musing is cut short when a pretty girl slides her arm through mine and says hello. She's not one of the ones Lapis pointed out to me and I barely bite down my tongue to stop from asking whether she's digging or disdaining. I don't want to be like that, I don't want to even think like that.

Her name turns out to be Dazzle and she ends up teaching me a few more things about kissing in a little side corridor. When Acanthus finds us I have my hand under her shirt and she has my trousers half unzipped, her fingers exploring very interesting parts of my body.

"I suppose we can push back our departure by half an hour if it's absolutely necessary," Acanthus drawls in his pointed Capitol accent as Dazzle extricates herself gently and brushes a kiss on my cheek. She gives my Escort a grin and a wink as she flounces past, not at all embarrassed. I know I'm blushing madly, though I hope it's not showing too much through the thin scree of makeup the preps insisted on.

"Come on you," Acanthus says as I finish tidying up my clothing as much as I can – it's a little difficult to re-do the button on the waistband so I pull on the offered jacket and hope that it covers what it needs to. Acanthus puts a gentle hand on my shoulder and starts steering me to the door. "Let's get you back to the train, where you can have a nice shower and head for bed. It's going to be a busy few days coming up."

We join up with Mags at the cars and she kindly doesn't say a thing.

"Three more days," Acanthus reminds us from the front seat as we pull up by the train station.

Three more days, and the rest of my life, I correct silently as I climb on board.

~xXx~

I sleep almost the entire train ride from the Capitol back to District Four. Three chaotic days and nights of events involving literally thousands of people and only minutes of respite between them to clear my head and bolt down some food. Every night I would finally crawl into bed around 2am, only to be woken a few hours later by my prep team for another lengthy session in the bathroom before the first morning event. Every outfit I wore was more crazy and generally more revealing and uncomfortable than the last, culminating in my getup for the interview with Caesar and the Victory Gala party at the President's Mansion. Pelagius and Euthalia spent three hours sticking on tiny fake bronze fish scales in elaborate patterns up and down my bare limbs so that they gleamed through the loosely netted shirt and pants, while Theodorous and Phineas clipped in two hundred little emerald-encrusted clips to my hair. Most of them were gone in the first hour of the Gala from people ruffling my hair, though I did pick a handful out of the pillow on the train.

I don't even remember what I said at the interview with Caesar during the final evening. The night before had been another large party near the Capitol Lake where I only had two drinks, but they were overwhelmingly strong and left me with some hazy memories of a man, a woman and a slightly prickly bush in the gardens. Of Acanthus finding me again, helping me locate my shirt (thrown over a statue ten yards away) and getting me a cloth from somewhere to help clean up the couple of stains where willing hands had helped me have a good time, at least until I started vomiting. I don't have any recollection of the details, only the sensations and some of the sounds and smells.

I can only assume everything was fine during the interview – the crowd was cheering madly the whole time and Mags didn't say anything afterwards to suggest I'd screwed up. I don't really remember the Gala either. I know I got some food and stayed away from the alcohol and danced with a number of people, but now it's all a blur.

Theodorous wakes me up about an hour out from Four and helps me into the shower. I'm allowed to wash myself for once and the outfit I'm provided for arriving back home is more like what I started in – simple shirt and trousers subtly patterned with a cresting wave pattern and a light gold-cloth jacket. Euthalia briefly applies some very simple makeup around my eyes and covers a few spots on my chin. Pelagius runs a simple handful of hair-goop through my hair, ruffling it to give my usual windswept look without the usual effort they seem to think it needs.

I just about fall off the train into Greta's waiting arms. Ric musses my hair some more and Oris offers a fist bump before pulling me into a bear hug, while Greta embraces her mother behind me. There's a lot of cheering as Mayor Byron formally welcomes me home. I hug her too, which makes her laugh.

Acanthus steers us all to the waiting cars and the crowds start to disperse back towards the town centre. A part of me wants to ask if I can go back to my house in the Victors' Village, or better yet back to the small attic bedroom in our old house that Oris and I shared since I was ten. Instead we go to our Justice Building, where my prep team scrub away the light makeup and hair goop and start decking me out for another formal occasion.

Our Victory Rally takes place just after lunch and it looks like most of the district turns out. Technically it's a work-free day (certainly no boats are allowed out to fish, though some of yesterday's catch is still probably being processed) and everyone in Four tries to treat the event like the celebration it's supposed to be. I remember the Rally five years back when Wade won, where they had a famous singer from the Capitol performing on stage, a small army of professional cooks preparing holiday foods and even brought an inflatable jumping castle from the Capitol lake carnival. This year they have all that and more.

Lucilla and Gemellus, twin singers who rose to fame from some TV show contest a few years back perform my "Victory Anthem". I dimly recall the song being played last night at the Gala banquet, though I hadn't paid attention to the words at the time. It's all about a man hunting for something (possibly the love of his life), fighting through various obstacles while heavily alluding to my successes in the Games. Apparently the hero would wrestle a many-fanged beast, duel a rival to the death, and ensnare and destroy any who would stand in his path to his heart's desire.

Mags quietly informs me that it used to be standard for each victor to have a song written as their Victory Anthem by a suitable performer, but that the practice fell out of use about seven years back when successive boring victors failed to inspire the musical genius of the Capitol. I don't much care for the words, but I can't deny that the tune is catchy and by the third repetition half the crowd is singing along with the chorus.

As well as the inflatable castle packed with gleefully jumping kids, they've managed to ship a fast spinning ride from the carnival, which has a steady line to take a turn. As the VIP, I of course get access any time I want and have a few goes around with Oris, both of us hollering in raw pleasure at the rush of air in our faces.

As the night winds on the Capitol performers give over the stage to locals who play dance reels. My gut instinct about why District One was devoid of Capitol visitors ends up being correct – the resort at Four is full to bursting and there is no escape from the hordes of women (and a few men) who now have proof from the Tour footage that I know how to party.

I manage to keep it to just dances, mostly, though a particularly forceful woman around Greta's age does steal a kiss. Where I can, I try to insist on alternating between Capitol and District partners. The girls from Four have much better manners and only one of them tries to grope me. I do notice that nearly all of the Capitol guests have dyed their hair some approximation of my own reddish-brown, and all of them have a slightly unnatural-looking golden tan.

One woman even tells be about the procedure she had to have her eyes turned the same green as mine. They're not, and the tanned fisherman look doesn't suit her rounded frame at all, but I don't tell her that. I do make sure to drop her hand as soon as the dance ends and snatch up the nearest District girl before the next song starts, spinning away from the Capitol woman who doesn't look happy at my rapid retreat when I spin with my new partner.

"Ow, you're hurting me," the girl says, bringing my attention back to her and I release my unconsciously-clenched hand.

"Sorry," I tell her, flashing my well-practiced smile. "It seems I forgot to ask, will you dance this one with me?"

She gives me a flat look as I twirl her again, then shrugs. "I guess. My boyfriend will be mad though."

I can't help but laugh at that – after the last few weeks I'd forgotten the innocence of District Four relationships. "Tell him I'll dance with him too if he wants."

She doesn't look as amused as I feel and pulls herself away as soon as the song ends. I watch her flounce off angrily and throw herself into the arms of a boy on the sidelines who glares at me. I shrug; if he didn't want her dancing with someone else, he should have danced with her himself.

I don't get time to worry about it any further as three Capitol women who look nearly Mags' age start crowding me, insisting I partner them next.

Thankfully Mayor Byron insists on ending the carnival at the stroke of midnight, reminding everyone present that the work-free day has now ended. Most of us start heading for our beds while the night crews head out to their ships (usually they would have left hours ago and I guiltily hope that this doesn't cost them anything in reduced catch penalties).

The following day only has one formal event on the calendar, where they break the ground for a new boatyard. Once completed, workers will use it to construct new plastiglass boats designed by Capitol experts, which will slowly replace the current fishing fleet. It's pretty cool to be involved with something like this, even if all I do is look pretty and help Mayor Byron slash a ribbon tied across the front of an excavator. After it's done, someone drives me back to the house in the Village I fall into bed and sleep for two days straight.