TRIGGER : sexual, and sexual abuse content

Hey ! Here a Finnick pov ! And let's know a bit about him and it's not going to be easy, really hard stuff !

Hope you enjoy, let me know what you think !

Chapter 5 - Finnick's story

A loud moan escaped her mouth, her hands gripping wildly his hips pulling him closer. His body responded entering her even more, his mind removing himself and running away.

A few movements of hips later, they both ended panting on the bed. Her from ecstasy, him from sickness.

« Oh, waaaw, Finnick, that was amazing » Elena purred into his ear, her fuchsia plastic false-nails, caressing his torso and leaving red strain behind.

Finnick took a long deep breath to retain himself from vomiting and pulled her closer.

« Mmm, yeah it was, it's too bad I have to go back… So you said you would reveal me something…? », he forced himself, cuddling into her neck, humming her intoxicating perfume.

He kissed lightly but loudly her collarbone.

The woman in her fifty answered to the gesture, with a sigh, her hand caressing his back, a bit roughly, ending in his hair.

« The other day, Crack Carli, you know the Game Makers of the 54-58th

Hunger Games, realised a prettyyy intense… well fantasy of him » her tone got lower, « doing it with the twins »

The twins were district 5's stylists. Two sisters in their thirties who would dress animal style (this year Finnick, looking at their makeup and dress with black and whites strapped guessed zebra).

Finnick pulled himself a bit away, disgusted by the revelation, it wasn't the first one of the kind.

« Wha, okay » he just said disappointed. He hoped for something a little bit useful, something that could help him in his goal to make Annie win this year. He was sure that she knew that.

Elena was Seneca Cranes's third wife, who was one of the mutt's workers. He was helping designing mutts for the Games, a rumour said he wanted to get a promotion and be chosen for the next post of Game Maker, in four years.

Since a few year it would change every four year. This year a new Game Maker had arrived, her name was Rani Smith. They said she was into natural disaster, which could predict fire, tsunami, hurricane, earth quack… into the arena.

Elena had got up and was now clapping her bra.

« I have to go Fiiinnn, it was so great, you know with my husband I feel so lonely sometimes » As always thought Finnick.

It was way too often people feeling alone in their couple. Finnick was always their cure, no Finnick's body was always their cure.

Did it make any difference ? He was his body.

Finnick had two types of clients. The secrets clients, were the one who didn't want to be seen and wanted just some diner, drink and then a one night stand, like Elena. And the other types of clients, were the people Finnick had to keep company. People who wanted to be seen with him during the Games. Finnick had to spend at least four nights with them.

Finnick bared skin was dressed so do hers.

« You'll don't say about our little moment to anyone right » she purred to his ear

« Of course not, but remember I'm counting on you, you know to get me sponsors and sponsor my tribute » he said his hand on the side of her underwear. He wasn't proud of himself but, what could he do ? His situation was painful enough he would have been stupid to not at least take advantage of it, ( Elena was a sponsor herself , the wife of someone important and friend with sponsors).

« Don't worry I always keep my word, » she giggled at the sensation of his hand

« Mmm… Finnick, Besides it's not too risky to bet on someone who's eighteen, but I hope I'm not betting it wrong Finnick ? She has to make the top eight or I would be in trouble » she warned « You're lucky, people seemed very charmed by the way she held the male tribute's hand. They say they look like big sister and little brother »

It wasn't Finnick's plan, ( and he wasn't sure if Annie was capable of it).

Emotional bounds like siblings, best friends, or lovers always made people care and earned sponsors. (Until one of them murder the other in the arena).

« I always keep my words ». He whispered sensually licking her ear.

And that ended their encounter.

When Finnick came back to the Training Centre, he was glad to see he wasn't too late for diner. The tributes were taking their shower and Mags and Magali were nowhere to be found. He passed in front the mini bar running away from his urge to drink an entire bottle of vodka to forget the breath of the fifty women on him, to forget her nails, her bare legs around his hips, and her annoying voice. At least this time he was sober, no drugs or alcohol were involved. But not for too long, he couldn't resist and drank three glasses of Rum in a row.

And this time Finnick didn't have to spend the night, for his biggest pleasure.

He entered his room heading immediately to the shower. He put himself for a good ten minutes under a freezing water. At the end his skin and lips were blue. He was home, in the ocean. He threw up.

He was now dressed in his Capitol's clothes, ( a tight t-shirt that made everyone sees his abs and a skinny trousers that made everyone sees his ass). Every year his clothes seemed tighter.

Great he had a bit of time before diner and sat down at his desk. He opened the drawer from which he got out two notebooks, one with a red book cover, the other green.

He opened the red one first. Under the column trivia secrets he wrote the twins made a three way with Crack Carli.

Then he took the list and crossed Elena's name. He had only three people to date this year. ( It was a small year).

Next, was Thomas Jin. He was also a sponsor and Finnick had to keep him company all week. Finnick hated when it was men, mostly because he was straight.

Finnick closed his secrets notebook, which was divided into three categories : political and useful stuff, trivia stuff, the maybe stuff.

It has been two years now that he was collecting secrets. At first his clients gave him jewels and money but soon he didn't see any advantage to it. Finnick wasn't very interested in money or material goods and has soon realised that the people he was sold to were important, which rhymed with important informations about the Capitol and Panem in general.

But sometimes, like Elena his lovers didn't trust him enough to give him important information. This was the trivia stuff, but Finnick wrote them down anyway, you never know. Some other times they were so into the sex they blurred out very important informations in his ear, about how some senators made their way into politics for example. It always involved blood.

Finnick knew it was useless but he kept those secrets as weapons, for that one day he could use them. It was his way to think he had a bit of power against Snow and those who worked with him. It gave him power in his powerless moments. Like playing a game at manipulating other, extracting informations from them like you dig into a mine (even though it was the other way around).

Finnick opened the green notebook, and started writing intuitively.

Then she licks my entire body burning my flesh into ashes.

Every bones is possessed with sadness, burning until death.

My body leans, imbalanced, decomposes itself.

The dust of her demonic passion have burnt my carcass.

After his encounters Finnick had three way to try and feel better, either get really hammered (but as Mags has pointed out he was heading a bad path and was becoming like Haymitch), or take a piece of rope he would knot and unknotted compulsively, or write poems on how he felt in his notebook.

Writing has started as a Capitol duty after his victory. Every victor needed a « talent » after their game and so Finnick's team had decided that writing would fit into his role. At first Finnick had took it very lightly before realising he loved it and was good at it and that made him feel better.

It has all started at his fifteen birthday, not long after his victory. Two weeks after exactly. He was young, attractive and had startled all Panem. His interview, his recap, his crowning had set the Capitol on fire. Everyone adored him and threw him roses. But the truth is, he had just won for his family, for his district. He was proud to have brought back money to his brothers and father who were in need. It was his plan all along, to make them proud. But proud has been way too soon invaded by many emotions he didn't except. Like a wave they drowned his proud little by little, fear, disgust, anxiety, hate, pressure, guilt, killer. Nightmares after nightmares he had realised what he had done and that you don't get away with it so easily. He was turning fifteen and was a killer. At the age of fourteen he had killed innocent children. But he hanged to it, proud, his family, his father, his two big brothers. He wanted to make them proud. But at what cost ?

It was his fifteen birthday and he had a party to attend in the Capitol to celebrate his victory, the day after he would go home. He would come back to the ocean, feel the salt on his skin again, put his hands into fish, the wind in his hair, the sand sticking to his salty skin.

He hoped they would drown him and make him forget the nightmares. He was planning on forgetting, going back to district 4 and forget, just focusing on making proud his family. Bringing them back money. Wash the blood of his hands with salty water and make his family rich.

They were poor and broken. His mom had died giving him birth, taking away with her his twin brother. Twins ran into the Odair family. His father and uncle were twins. His two big brothers were twins. And him Finnick had a twin, for eight months until he perished along his mother. As soon he was into the world his life had been on a boat. The four of them, still poor but now broken, feeling the loss of two members of the family, one as their mother, one as their brother and as the half Finnick was always searching within the others.

Finnick was the little one of the family. The one his two brothers were mocking gently, running playfully their hands in his hair. The one who looked nothing like them.

The golden son. He looked exactly like his mother and nothing like his brothers and father. Brown, hair, skin and eyes. Surely his twin would have looked like him, he always thought, kneeling to his unnamed grave. It was odd to miss someone he had never met, but only feel into the stomach he had grew into.

When his name was called, it was time for Finnick. Time for him to prove them he wasn't the little boy of the family, and to come back home and free them from hours on boats for little money and bloody hands. He thought he had reached his goal. He thought he could finally reaper the guilt to have survived when his mother and twin couldn't.

But Snow had a different goal.

The party was starting in two hours, Finnick half naked, was waiting for his prep team. But instead of them was an old man, withe hair, rose in the collar, standing in the door. The president of Panem, Coriolanus Snow.

The conversation had gone this way as Finnick remembers. The president himself looking up and down, with a smile, at his half naked body. The president himself congratulating him on his Games and on how good looking he was. His hands touching his muscled chest. His eyes looking too deeply into his green eyes. For the first time (and not the last) he had smelled Snow's rose and blood scent.

He drowned, when he whistled the words to him. Sell your body. He drowned when he responded the word. No. He drowned when he whistled back the words. It has a cost to say no.

He was left behind, still half naked. Measuring how heavy a word could be.

Two hours later he was ready for the party when the news came out. Mags who has been his mentor, entered the room. She looked frightened. Finnick didn't need to know. He knew.

They had drowned, his brothers, his father. He drowned with them, but he was still alive. Still alive but drowning. Still alive but not Finnick anymore. He was turning fifteen and had made his family killed. After that he had to wear a mask and go the party. He was turning fifteen, a killer he was, his family dead. At the end of the night he was also a prostitute.

Snow had made him clear that Mags will be next if he didn't accept. And indeed he accepted. Mags had been his mentor and had grown closer to him. She was the one who helped him win. And thanks god when he sees how close they were today he was glad he didn't sacrifice her. Like he did with his family. But it has a cost.

He was now a prostitute. Because being a victor wasn't going home and forget. It was living with the memories of his games, and now being sold. No, now his body was being sold and so does his first time.

Finnick had only a few experiences dating wise. He had questioned himself about his sexuality and knew he was into girls. He had made out a couple of time on the beach, had dated a few girls, went to second base and that was all. So, when at fifteen he found himself, three hours after he had learnt his family was dead, Mags' life in his hands, in front of a man twice his age naked, he died.

What happened at this party had changed him forever and the young Finnick who would go on the boat with his brothers and father was long gone.

At the end of the night he had turned fifteen and was now a person who had killed innocent children, his family and had been forced into his first time with a man twice his age. His name was still Finnick, his body was still the same, his heart beating.

But why did he feel like he was dead?

He regretted instantly winning for them. Because there was no them just him, alone (but he didn't know yet, and Mags).

He didn't feel proud anymore.

She was standing on the chair right across him. She had washed away her makeup and her freckles were visible again. She was very pretty had thought Finnick. Which was rare for him to think. Since he was fifteen it had happened three times.

Since he was fifteen because of his situation he had blocked any desire or attraction towards other, protecting himself. But three times he had found three girls pretty, like the teenager he was before his Games. Every time it was a girl around his age, every time she had brown and long hair and was from district 4.

It gave him clue that maybe he had a type, and that maybe he was just a teenager who was attracted to girls. But the fact is, it was never more than finding them pretty. He was tied down to the Capitol and he would never be in a relationship of any kind.

Anyhow, for the third time since his fifteen Finnick found a girl pretty and it was Annie. But that was it, she was just pretty, nothing more nothing less.

They started diner, Annie and Wasper explaining their experience at the Tributes Parade. Their prep team was there too. They all talked about trivia stuff.

Annie was quiet and Finnick guessed she was nervous. The day before Mags had related to him their conversation.

So after diner he took Annie aside. A drink in his hand he sat on the couch.

« I think we should talk again about strategy. Annie, people (the woman I slept with) said they saw you holding hands with Wasper and think about it as a brother-sister bound… I don't think it's a good tactic to play. I'm not stupid. Even though I haven't known you for a long time just the way you talk about Pearl says it all. And you see Wasper the same way. You're someone who cares, and that's a beautiful quality to have but not in the arena. I know I wanted for you to be nice but maybe I bet it wrong. I want you to look nice but not actually be nice. If you want to survive you have to be tough Annie »

Annie sat silently her green eyes fixated on the drink in his hand. When she finally spoke.

« I know Finnick, I know I have to. I just… I don't know if I have it in me, or if I want to discover if I have it…You're right maybe being close to Wasper is not the best idea. I'll be all too nice and then I'll end up suffering if he dies. Finnick teach me to be like you »

The words hit Finnick hard. It was the second time she hurt him without knowing it.

Like him. Being with no emotions like him. But who he was kidding ? He had killed innocent people at fourteen. He was this person he was this being with no emotions. Seeing his expression, Annie immediately added.

« I mean, it's just you seemed so focus in your Games, … I don't feel I can be that focus »

Finnick laughed at the word « focus », but he knew what she meant.

« Well, I made it on my own, I didn't get attached to anybody. Not even my district partner »

It was a bit of a lie. Nepta, his district partner had become a bit of his friend. When he had seen her face on the sky (she was a career ) tears were burning in his eyes. He thought about her from times to times. He felt bad for Annie, imagining her reacting to Wasper's death.

« So this is what we're going to do Annie. Don't go to the other tributes, wait for them to come to you. If so be polite to everyone you meet, be friendly, but nothing more, even with Wasper. Don't try to ally with the Career, if you play it just polite they're not going to, anyway. Then you go to every station and try everything. Tomorrow night we will decide, according to your first day what kind of weapon suits you the best »

Annie nodded. Exactly like the first day they had met, a comfortable silence hanged in the air. Finnick didn't even drink his alcohol. Finally, Annie stood up.

« Thank you Finnick, and good night » she smiled gently

« Good night. Good luck, you got this »

She went towards her room but a the last minute she turned around and added.

« Finnick, i don't want you to think that I see you as some heartless guy. I know you did, what you did, in order to survive. I'm sure you care more than you pretend »

She didn't wait for his response and entered her room.

He didn't have a response anyway.

As if Mags had waited all along, she arrived in the living room a few seconds later.

Her first gesture was to replace his drink with her special beverage hot milk and honey.

« Who are you, my mum ? » joked Finnick. But he was glad.

Mags laughed and sat next to him.

« So, is Annie ready for tomorrow ? »

« Yeah she is and Wasper ? »

Mags stayed silence searching for her words.

« Worried… »

« He's not gonna make it is he ? » said Finnick

« Well, I doubt it. To be honest with you, I have to admit that Annie might be our best chance this year »

« Yeah, i just hope they're not going to get closer and try to be allies in the arena. It would be bad for Annie »

Mags laughed.

« I see someone takes his job of mentor very seriously this year »

« What's that supposed to mean ? I told you the other day I wanted to bring someone home this year » said Finnick a bit abruptly

Mags sensed his change of ton.

« Are you alright Finn ? Is this about your dates ? »

Like a mother Mags always checked on him. A wave of affection took him. But soon replace with his heart racing mixed to incomprehension.

« No it's not about my dates. I just, I don't get it. What's the point ? I want someone to win this year. But do I want it for myself ? To wash the guilt away ? Or for the person ? Being a victor sucks I should wish for Annie to die, I shouldn't wish for her to survive. But if I wish that, does that make me heartless ? »

Mags didn't respond for while.

« It's not a decision for you to make wether it's better for a tribute to live or die. I mean, I know you know the truth about being a victor and what lies ahead, but sometimes life has things to offer we don't except »

Her words are blurry enough to raise any suspicion. But Finnick knows what she's talking about. It's a conversation they have on the beach away from ears and eyes.

A few years back Mags had explained to him that the rebels still exist. She hadn't told him more, except for the fact that they were waiting for a spark.

Mags claimed he was too young to know who these people were yet and to approach them. Being a rebel was dangerous, and punished very violently by the Capitol, especially coming from a victor.

But Mags seemed to believe that one day, Panem would be free again, and that it was worse to live and fight for it when the time would come. Mags was the only person Finnick trusted and he loved to believe that maybe one day things could be different.

« I see what you mean Mags » he just said.

But that didn't end his dilemma he was just feeling bad to want a victor this year. But as he thought about it, he was feeling as bad to let people die every year. So one way or another he would alway feel bad. He was trapped anyway. It was either let his tributes die or save them, but offer them a life of misery. He didn't sleep that night.

Thomas Jinn was a beast, Finnick ended the day way after diner. His back was sore, and he was sick from drugs, alcohol, and medicine to force erection.

It was very late but as usual Mags (the sweetheart) was waiting for him. As usual she helped him go to his room.

« Annie was waiting for you, I told her that you were going to talk strategy in the morning »

Damn. He had forgotten about Annie and the promise he had made to her. He felt bad (again). He had told her he would help her choose a weapon for day 2 and 3 of training.

Instead he hadn't shown up at diner. It wasn't his fault but he felt guilty anyway.

As if she read into his mind Mags said :

« Hey… Finnick, it's okay … it's not your fault, you'll talk with Annie in the morning »

« I guess » he said

And he fall asleep, Mags stroking gently his hair.

In hard days like this Mags would always be here for him.

One hour later he woke up from nightmares and didn't sleep the rest of the night.