Soleil Kingston, Victor
Gigi turned on me as soon as we were backstage.
"You lead him to us!" she accused, stabbing a finger at me.
"I did," I admitted. I didn't know how to feel about any of it. I'd cycled through guilt, fear, despair, and finally desperation in the arena and I didn't know what any of it would come to.
"How could you?" Gigi's voice was quavering.
"To stay alive," I said, still as meek as when she'd first come at me. "Just... to stay alive."
"Was it worth it?" Gigi asked. Her face was starting to shift as she seemed to admit this was about more than just what I did with Anthony.
That little fire kicked up in me again. "Ask Mazie," I said.
Gigi flinched. I felt a prick of guilt and then a dead resignation as I watched Gigi deflate. Something in what I just said was going to be with us forever.
"We're both survivors," I said. "So we're both killers."
Gigi wiped a tear from her eyes and looked back up from the ground. "I shouldn't have slapped you," she said.
"I don't think you're really sorry," I said, but I was smiling a little. "But I'm really sorry about what I had to do and you're really sorry about what you had to do, so maybe that's enough sorry to go around."
"Miss Sampson!" a garishly-dressed young man wormed his way past stylists and crew members as he waved for our attention. "Miss Kingston! I'm with the Peeper, can I get some quotes?"
Gigi and I looked at each other. We both knew what the other was thinking. We were friends now, right? The two joint Victors. Putting on a face for the rest of our lives that everything was perfect even though everyone saw the Games and knew we'd barely seen each other the entire time. Gigi put on a not-entirely-fake smile as she put out her hand. I mimicked her expression as I took it and we faced the reporter together.
Gigi Sampson, Victor
Thank Heaven neither Soleil nor I had killed the other's District partner. This was already an awkward enough victory tour with the cheesy speeches they made us say a few sentences at a time so we could alternate.
The best and worst part of the tour was we got One over with right away. It was eerie how I wouldn't even have known who Dionysus' parents were if they hadn't been in a VIP section of the audience. I could have just been talking about someone's dead son while his crying mother hung on my words and I didn't even know where she was. I was just thankful I'd convinced the powers that be to give me some input on the speech.
"I'm very grateful for everything Dionysus did for me," I said, looking at his parents. "I won't forget him and I hope everyone here is proud of him." Then Soleil segued into the canned speech about how this show of unity will make our nation proud and how we're all part of Panem under the care of our glorious Capitol.
Two went by without incident. Neither Soleil nor I had seen much of Nailah or Nero. The same went for Three. I hadn't even known Cheyanne's name until I read the speech.
Four was... a tough crowd. I saw some begrudgingly admiring faces in the audience but mostly just a wall of resentment. I self-consciously stumbled through a few lines and scuttled back into the train to evade jeers and a few thrown shoes. Funny coincidence that I'd been involved in both Ceto's and Anthony's deaths but that really Dionysus had been behind them both. Hopefully it would blow over soon as they got started on next year's crop.
Soleil Kingston, Victor
There was nothing for us in Six- nothing but bereaved citizens waiting for it to be over and two exhausted Victors who wanted the same thing. The same reception greeted us in Seven and Eight.
Strange how things work out. I was responsible for Oberon's death and Gigi was complicit in Mazie's. I was ready for anger but I hadn't prepared myself for the quiet, deathly pall of Nine. The people didn't seem mad at us, or even mad at the Capitol. They just seemed... mournful. They quietly listened to our speeches and then quietly walked away, minus two children.
As the Districts passed I got an unsettling feeling of being at funerals I wasn't invited to. How was I supposed to speak about Omar and Bess? I hadn't even known their names. If I'd passed through Ten I wouldn't even have known two children had died. These people didn't want to hear us. They wanted to be left alone.
Twelve was eerily nonchalant. For a moment I was horrified, thinking they didn't care at all that they'd lost two children, when I realized it was even worse. They'd known neither Samantha or Morty would reach adulthood long before the Games. They'd already mourned.
