Chapter 68- Astrid Clearwater

"You look terrible!"

"Thank you, Spila. Very nice to hear," I mutter, but I don't do anything to stop her from ripping the wax off of my legs. I'd like to punch her, or if I had an axe, I would land it in her head, but I can't do either of those things. I'm the victor, and punching my prep team would not go over well for the cameras.

"Haven't you taken care of yourself at all?" Spila continues, still talking in that horrible high Capitol accent.

"It's hard in District 3," I say carefully. I don't say that I haven't left my house or Victor's Village since that night in the streets. I don't say that I've spent most of the last four months in my bed, blocking out the world. Sleeping isn't a weakness, because I haven't been awake long enough to be weak. It's helped my concussion anyway. My mind is mine again, and even though I still get those stabbing pains, I can come out fighting on this Tour. Which I'm going to have to do.

"Oh yes, we saw the city when we were coming here," Lara says, making a face. "It's so dreary!"

"It is," I say. That we can agree upon.

Lara seems determined to rip my hair out of my scalp as she brushes something through it, while Spila finishes with the wax and goes straight into plucking my eyebrows. It hurts, but I force myself to grit my teeth so it'll be over with sooner.

"Did you hear what Cordia Caerellia did?" Lara says, starting in on one of the useless topics Capitolites like to go on about. I heard enough of them during Training, but now I'm lucky enough to hear more of them.

"What?" Spila asks, applying wax above my eyebrows and yanking it off. If you were in the arena doing this, I'd kill you.

"She's with Gus Evander! And he's married!"

"No!" Spila gasps as she rips another piece of wax off my face.

"Yes! And that's not the worst of it. They're moving in together!"

"Where?"

"Gemstone Street."

I have to cover up a laugh when Lara says that. They're such idiots in the Capitol. Spila finishes with my eyebrows and moves straight on to my nails. They're long enough that she doesn't have to put fake ones on, as she says, and I'm glad for it. The less they alter me long term, the better.

"It's been so boring for the last few months," Spila complains, and her whining grates on my ears.

"Just parties and shopping," Lara agrees, and I have to stifle a laugh again, but it dies in my throat almost as soon as it starts. My prep team have been living in comfort and don't even know it, while I've been assaulted in the street just because I came back from the arena alive.

"I got a new tattoo!" Spila says, and that spirals into a whole other conversation that I tune out of. I don't care what tattoo Spila got, or where she got it. Still, it's almost comforting to hear someone talk that isn't my family, or someone who hates me. Whoever Cordia Caerellia is, I doubt they hate her either. She's just good gossip until the next person commits some grievance, like wearing the wrong color sequins or something.

Elowyn swims to the forefront of my thoughts, and I don't know why. Maybe because she would have looked beautiful in whatever costumes her stylists would put her in for her Victory Tour. Maybe because I'm wondering how she would have reacted to being a victor. It's probably because she was in my dream last night, though, both her and Tilling. We were back on the beach, and they turned into the turtle mutts and ripped off my face.

Not the best recipe for peaceful sleep.

Lara puts my hair in two simple braids, then ties them together at the back, leaving the ends loose and wavy, while Spila does my makeup. I can see by the lipstick she's using that they're making me look natural, which I like. I don't want to be someone else getting onto the train. I'll have plenty of time for that later.

"We can bring in Sparkle now, I think!" Lara says, clearly worn out with the effort of getting me ready. Spila half skips to the door and calls my stylist in; she must have been lingering in the hall, because she comes in straight away.

"Perfect!" she trills when she sees me. I can't say I've missed her, but I don't mind seeing another familiar face that doesn't hate me. Tolerates me at the worst, but there's not enough going on in that woman's head for anything else. "I have your outfit right here."

Sparkle hands me a bundle of clothes; I sort them out on my bed and see that she's given me a wine-colored shirt, black leggings, a grey coat that will button up the front, and black lace up boots. As far as costumes go, I don't mind this one. I still don't forgive her for giving me that robot costume during the parade.

Circuit was dressed the same as me; we rode in that chariot together. And less than two weeks later, I stabbed him. He's dead because of me. I thought I would have worked through that by now, but I still don't know what to think about it. District 3 hates me for what I did, but I don't know if I hate myself for killing Circuit.

I get twinges from thinking about murdering Dominicus from 2, but it's not quite the same in my mind. His family is going to hate me, but they're miles away. I'll never see them again, so it hurts less. And he and Agrippina killed Elowyn, so there's that.

I'll have to face Agrippina's family. And Elowyn's.

"Wake up, Astrid!" Sparkle says, annoyed. "Get dressed, we have to go downstairs!"

I snap out of my arena daze and throw my clothes on, careful not to disrupt my hair or my makeup. The last thing I want is for them to have to redo it. Sparkle and my prep team are already out the door, so I button my coat, lace up my boots, and follow them, looking back once at the room I've essentially been living in for the past four months.

"Astrid, lovely to see you!" Delia Charm exclaims as soon as I reach the bottom of the stairs. I can't stop her from hugging me, but I don't like it all the same. Touching is still painful, and I avoid it as much as I can.

"You too, Delia," I say, trying to smile. My performance starts now, and I have to show them all that I'm a happy victor. That no matter what, District 3 hasn't broken me, and neither did the arena. Because I'm fine.

"Now, we're all so eager to see your talent!" she says, patting me on the cheek. Right. My talent. I actually have one; Delia sent me a list in August and I got around to picking one in October, because my mother insisted. I chose one at random, and as a result I got a violin on the next train from whatever district they make violins in.

I'm not good at it by any means, but it gives me something to focus on besides sleeping and thinking about the arena. And it gives me an excuse not to leave the house for town.

Delia follows me into the living room, where a camera crew has set up; both Axel and my mother are being interviewed by separate crews. "Right over here, show us," Delia says, beaming. I don't want to play the violin in front of everyone in Panem, but this is why I picked it up, isn't it?

After a few minutes of me scratching out a few melodies, they've had enough and turn the cameras off, which is a relief to everyone, I think. "We must stay on schedule!" Delia calls, clapping her hands together. She's wearing some sort of green scaled outfit; I can't even fathom how she puts it on. I'm still fascinated by that cloud blue wig, though. I wonder what it's made of.

"We are leaving in ten minutes!" she calls again, and this time she sounds firm about it. I don't mind. The faster I get out of District 3, the faster this Tour will be over. But, even though I'm dreading getting onto that train, it's going to be a relief too. I just want to get as far away from District 3 as I can, from this city that calls for my blood. It's not so different from the Capitol, now is it? But I'll take the Capitol over my own district; they're through with trying to kill me.

I'm not going to show either of them weakness, because I'm not. I'm not weak. Especially now that I have my head back under control. Maybe I do forget things every once in a while, and sometimes the floor swoops unexpectedly, but the clouds are gone and all my thoughts are in reach. But I'm going to be the Career victor again, and show them all that I'm better than any of them thought I was.

"You look beautiful, sweetheart," Mama says, coming over to me from where the camera crews are finished with her.

"Thanks, Mama."

"Are you going to the Capitol again?" Axel asks, his eyes round and excited as he skids to a stop in front of me.

"And every other district," I say, bending down to hug him. I'll let myself hug him, because it doesn't hurt as badly as when my mother touches me. Every time I look at her I'm reminded of that talk we had after the attack, and I haven't been able to separate her from what she told me.

"Can you tell me about them when you get home?" Axel says, jumping back and almost quivering with excitement. He's going to turn seven later this month, and so far, nobody in the district hates him. Maybe they don't make the connection, since he doesn't have the same last name as me. But he's moved up in school, and has a real chance at becoming one of the elite students that get to study at the university later. My winning gave him a future, and that's what really matters to me.

"I'll tell you about them all, I promise. And I'll give you a shout out when I'm being interviewed, okay?"

"Okay!" Axel grins so widely that he his face looks like it'll break in two. I allow myself a smile at my brother; probably my first real smile since I got home from the Games in the summer.

"We are on a schedule!" Delia sings out.

"Good luck, Astrid," Mama says, kissing my forehead. I wince inside, but I don't let her see it. I won't cause my mother more pain than I already have.

"Thanks, Mama. I'll be back before you know it."

"Enjoy yourself." Mama smiles at me, then Delia is hauling me by the arm towards my front door.

"Cameras will be live as soon as you step out that door, so make sure you smile!"

"Wouldn't think of doing anything else," I tell her, but I don't think she's listening.

"And now!" Delia throws the door open and pushes me out, as I put on my most dazzling, fake smile and step down onto the snow-covered ground.

"And here is the victor herself: Astrid Clearwater!" I can hear Marcus Fireglen's voice coming from somewhere, so I just beam at the cameras and try to figure out which one I'm supposed to look at.

"It's been a long time since we've seen you, Miss Clearwater," Marcus continues.

"Much too long, but didn't I tell you the months would just fly by?" I say. I thought my way through the interviews, and through the arena; now I have to think my way through this Victory Tour. I can do it. I know I can. I was the best in that arena, and I have to make sure everyone knows it. No weakness from me. Never.

"So they have," Marcus says, chuckling. "How are you settling into the life of a victor?"

"I couldn't be happier," I lie. That's all this is, a big lie. So I'll play along with it, and lie this whole trip if I have to. "Let me tell you, Marcus, this lifestyle is like a dream." Again, I don't specify whether it's a nightmare or not. He doesn't need to know.

"What's your favorite thing that you're finding?"

"I like the violin, but I'm not very good at it yet," I say with a laugh.

"Well, I have all the faith in the world that you will succeed at mastering it."

"You're too kind, Marcus."

"We'll be seeing a lot of you over the next few weeks, so we'd better let you get on that train!"

"I can't wait to see you again in person," I say, still smiling.

Then the camera crews sign off, and Delia's pulling me by the arm again towards an army of waiting black cars. I look back just before she pushes me in, and I catch a glimpse of three people. Two of them are my mother and brother. The other is Beetee.

I'm going to have to talk to him on this trip. But I have no idea what to say. I've been wanting to find you in the Technology Center for months? I hate you for pitting me and Circuit against each other? You shouldn't have abandoned me just to see if your hypothesis was right? Are you still proud of me for winning? What are you keeping from me?

In the end, when we arrive at the train station, I say nothing, just look at him out of the corner of my eye. He never needed a talent; as soon as he got home from his Games, he was whisked up to the Technology Development Center, and he's stayed there ever since. That was what, six years ago?

I don't know why I care.

Axel and my mother were stuffed in another car; they're the only two who have come to say goodbye. I half expected Circuit's father to show up and kill me like he was threatening to, but he doesn't make an appearance.

"Alright, be safe," Mama says, giving me a final embrace that I don't want. I do take the hug from Axel, though. I love my brother, and I love the fact that he's going to have a long life ahead of him, even if it is in District 3. Maybe he can be a Beetee one day and have his future absolutely secure. Then I won't have to worry about him and I can stay in my house and completely forget everything else.

"I'll tell you everything when I get back," I promise my brother, then Delia's gathering me up and pushing me towards the train doors. The cameras are back, so I smile again, giving them a wave like a good Career victor would do. I think the cameramen are coming with, but they'll get on through a different door.

Delia comes after me, then Beetee, then Sparkle, and then my prep team, all packing into the train car entrance. As soon as the doors slide shut behind me, I drop my smile, almost at the same time that the train takes off.

The others wander off, even Beetee, but I walk towards a window in the main room of the train, and stand there looking out. The last time I was leaving on this train, I thought I was going to die and never see District 3 again. Now, I wouldn't mind if I never saw that city again, with its dark and light blocking towers and hateful people who all want me to never return too.

The district goes on for miles, and I look at it all. It's ugly and depressing, and dreary like my prep team said. I wonder what the other districts will be like.

Then the train takes a curve and District 3 disappears from sight, leaving me alone in this train car with no familiar sights anywhere.

I'm struck by the same thought I had when I left last year, when I was still the Astrid Clearwater I was before the Games.

I really am truly alone.