Bixby Case, District Three
The door to Bixby's bedroom shuddered as his mentor pounded against it. He was slightly surprised the lock held. Actually he was slightly surprised that the room had a lock at all. He suddenly pictured himself sitting on his bed like he was doing right now, except it was the morning of the Games, and all manner of Capitolites clamoring to get in and take him to his death. A whole corrupt system, thwarted by something as simple as a lock.
"Mr. Mellark. You know I do have a key." Bixby heard someone say on the other side of the door, promptly smashing his fantasies. Of course they had a key.
"I'm not trying to break in." Peeta said, his voice partially muffled by the wall between them, "I want him to let me in."
Well at least he was a polite murderer, Bixby thought. There weren't many of those wandering around. He laughed. Probably the weed, now that he thought about it. He wondered if being high made this situation better or worse before deciding that he was really glad he didn't have to deal with the Savior of Panem sober.
Everyone knew what Peeta Mellark had done almost fifteen years ago. He was the only case of a double Victor in the history of the Games. He claimed to be in love with his District partner. Then he killed her, and any chance of the second rebellion succeeding. Bixby hated this man with every inch of his being. And yet this was the man sent to try and keep him alive. Only the Capitol could think of something so cruel.
"I'm not particularly interested. Probably best for all of us if you just give up." Bixby shouted, then finished the very last of his joint.
Was this how the rest of his life was going to play out? Was he fated to repeatedly play the rebel, the wild child? It was exhausting to only show one side of himself. But he doubted that the people on the other side of the wall cared about his garage band, his test scores, his best friend, or anything about his life that they couldn't milk for drama. He was a character now, a source of entertainment for the Panemian elite. A warning for everyone else.
It was just so goddamn boring.
"Mr. Case, I am trying to help you." Peeta said.
"Like you helped Katniss Everdeen?"
Low blow, Bixby, even for a traitor like him. Still, he couldn't bring himself to take it back.
The knocking on the door stopped, and Bixby could hear the sound of footsteps walking away. Was it really that easy? He shook his head to himself. No, probably just some sort of trick.
"I sent everyone else away." Peeta said, "It's just me. I'm not going to defend what happened with Katniss. I deserve that, and more. But you're in danger."
"No shit."
"That's not what I mean." There was a thump and the light from behind the door dimmed, "Death isn't the worst thing the Capitol can do to you. I saw you during the Reaping. Everyone did. You're a compelling speaker. Like I was."
"Is that supposed to be a compliment?" Bixby asked.
"It's supposed to be a warning. If you're not careful, they'll take your voice. Use it against you. And next thing you know, you'll be on the other side of this door, the new Savior of Panem."
His words felt like a trick. Though he didn't know how much of that was his own instincts and how much of that was good old fashioned weed paranoia. But as far as treachery went, it was convincing enough. Bixby had seen old footage of both Peeta and the Mockingjay. They were shown as a warning to all of the Districts. When he talked about how much he loved Katniss, the boy seemed to be genuine. Perhaps he was just that good of a liar.
Or perhaps something really had happened.
Either way, Bixby knew what choice he was going to make. Perhaps this was all a carefully crafted sob story. But he had never met a trap he didn't want to spring.
Bixby opened the door, and his mentor lost his balance without the support, tumbling into the room.
Millie Oatbratton, District Twelve
The middle aged man stared at her for a moment, and Millie stared right back at him. It wasn't any particular act of bravery. She was scared, more scared than she had ever felt before. But she also had no idea what was going on. All she knew was that she was far away from her home, somewhere called the Capitol, and that she was supposed to play something called the Hunger Games. Millie didn't know how she was going to play a game whose rules she was unfamiliar with, so she had asked the man who introduced herself as her mentor. Instead of answering, he had just stared at her.
"Are they that complicated?" She asked.
"No, they aren't complicated at all." The man, David he said his name was, answered, "It's just, you really don't know what the Hunger Games are?"
Millie shook her head.
"Wow." David continued, his tone light and joking, "I was locked in a cellar for years, and I still knew what they were."
For the first time, something like hope rose up inside her. "You lived in a cellar too?" she asked.
The man stared at her again, then let out a string of curse words. "Nautilus Plume, I'm going to take your over organized head and shove it up your ass."
Alarmed, Millie stepped back a little. "I'm sorry. I didn't mean to anger you."
"No, I'm not angry at you. Sorry for snapping. So you lived in a cellar? How long?" David asked.
"I don't know." Millie admitted, "Forever? My mom kept me down there. To keep me safe. She said if anyone found me, they would take me away."
Her mother had been right. Suddenly, Millie felt like she was back in her cellar the day they found her. She remembered a loud bang, her mother screaming, then a blinding light as the secret door opened. When her eyes adjusted, she saw her mother sleeping on the floor. No matter how loudly she yelled for her, her mother wouldn't wake.
After that, there was talk of forfeits and reapings and games. Millie didn't understand any of it, and all she wanted was to be back with her mother. Back in her cellar, where she was safe.
"I see." David said, "Your mother tried to protect you."
"She's a good mom." Millie insisted. Ever since they took her from her cellar, people had been saying terrible things about her mom. How she was neglectful, criminal, crazy.
But Millie knew none of that was true. Her mother kept her safe. It was something she said every night, like a bedtime story. The world was dangerous and she was keeping Millie safe. It was something she never questioned. Not even the one time she snuck out to feel the sunlight on her skin. She returned to her cellar immediately after, where she knew she was safe.
"I'm sure she is. Unfortunately, in order to get back to her, you're going to have to win the Hunger Games. I won the year I went in, so I'm going to help you the best I can."
"So. Are you going to tell me the rules now?"
"Yes, Millie. I'm going to tell you everything."
Revalie Satyr, District Ten
"Engle, switch me."
Engle Harrison, Victor of the 89th Hunger Games, looked at Revalie's mentor skeptically. "I don't think we can do that."
"I don't care. We can do it unofficially if we have to. Just switch me."
"You really want to take a District One kid? No offense, Baron."
"None taken." her Sign partner said, "Although please call me BV."
"I'll take anybody at this point. Just not her."
"She is standing right here, you know." Revalie said, her words cutting through the chaos of what was quickly turning into an argument, "And I'm sorry that I offend you so much, but if anyone gets a choice in this I think it would be me. And I don't want a mentor who got a training score of two. No offense, Engle."
"None taken."
Blaire Offerseed, Victor of the 92nd Games, looked stunned before shaking her head violently. "You're just making things worse. I won't do it."
Revalie sighed. She was rather used to this kind of treatment in District Ten. Strangers would cross the street to avoid her, mothers would hush their children. With the mentors not necessarily being linked to Districts this year, she had been hoping to get someone who didn't know her history. Someone who would give her a fresh start. Instead, she got one of the only two victors from District Ten.
"Look." She said, "I know my mother's said a lot of things about me. But does it really matter? You don't have to like me. You just have to prepare me for the Games. Don't even worry about sponsors, I can take care of myself."
"Your mother?" Blaire stopped her rapid gesturing to stare at her in confusion before realization dawned on her face. "Oh you're that Satyr. No, that's not it. Honestly, your mother is completely batshit. No offense."
"Really, truly, none taken."
"All right, so there's no offense all around!" BV said, laughing. It felt forced and no one laughed with him. "But how about instead of going back and forth talking around the issue, we figure out what the problem is. Miss Offerseed, why don't you want to train Miss Satyr?"
"Kid's got a point." Engle said.
"How old are you?" Blaire asked her.
"Seventeen." Revalie answered, no longer sure where this conversation was going.
"And what did you say your profession was?"
"I'm a butcher."
"A seventeen year old butcher with a big attitude and a chip on her shoulder. Does that remind you of anyone, Engle?"
Revalie was smart enough to get by, but she couldn't say she was ever particularly bright. Butchers didn't need to be. So while she knew that Blaire was implying something, she didn't exactly know what. There were a lot of butchers her age in District Ten, and it wasn't a forgiving place to live. Her anger was louder than most people's, but it wasn't unique by any stretch of the imagination.
"This is the job." Engle said, "Carlotta's dead. Revalie's not. So I love you to pieces, but you're just going to have to suck it up and stop mentoring ghosts."
Carlotta. Of course. Revalie suddenly felt like a complete asshole. She never really thought about how much she might resemble last year's District Ten tribute. She also didn't realize that mentors cared at all about the tributes going in. Not enough to try to avoid someone who reminded them of a past mentee, at any rate. Maybe it was because Blaire was new. Revalie wondered if that compassion would help or hurt her.
Either way, she was too stubborn to let anyone switch now, even if it turned out it wasn't actually about her. "Like I said, you don't have to like me. But you know more about the Games then I do. I need your help. And I'm really really bad at asking for help."
Blaire looked past her, out into a window at the far end of the suite. Revalie tried to determine what emotions crossed her face, but she had never been particularly great at reading others. Eventually, the Victor nodded once.
"All right. But if we do this, we start now. No wasted time."
Revalie smiled slightly. "That works for me."
AN: And that's everybody! Are you excited? I'm excited. This cast is so great guys. For this final chapter we have Millie by Kristileeki, Revalie by Sakuradreamerz, and Bixby by Cthonicpython for real this time (last chapter we met Eli by Drredneck and I made a very silly typo). Also, I keep forgetting to mention it, but I rearranged the tribute list on my profile. Now you can see what everybody's constellations and sign partners are. Thank you so much for reading!