To Have and To Hold

A/N: What's up guys! I was just testing out this narrative to see if it was interesting enough for people to read. Definitely let me know in the reviews if this setup has the potential to become a longer storyline. I've always wanted to write something with Finnick since he's an interesting character. I just didn't know quite how to do it. I'm sort of iffy about the title, but I needed to name this something, ha, ha.

Disclaimer: I don't have any experience regarding PTSD, or self-harm, so I apologize in advance if I portray it incorrectly.

Story Mentions: Sex, Swearing, Self-harm, Anxiety, Panic Attacks, and PTSD. (So please don't read if you're not comfortable.)

Life was hard and disappointing, and I was the disappointment. Panem's little sister. Everyone's little sister from the Capital. The innocent and sweet girl who cried over every tribute she killed. The one who couldn't differentiate between edible herbs and leaves…

I was 16 when I was chosen to participate in the Hunger Games at the reaping. Some Sweet 16 Birthday that was. I had turned 16 the night before the reaping and what bad luck it was.

I remember it all as if it happened yesterday. The horror which they called the Hunger Games. In my year, the arena was set up like a coliseum, inspired from old Greek architecture. But that was all it was. A small coliseum surrounded by desert. The sole source of water being from cacti, in which there was a limited amount. A lot of people died of dehydration. And the Gamemakers would create diversions of killer snakes and mutts to chase two tributes in the coliseum, where the two of them had no choice, but to fight to the death. The winner gets to live another day, while the other lives in our memory.

I hated the feeling of touching anything that was remotely similar to a knife or a weapon. I… I had killed so many people… So many vulnerable people. I wasn't something worth protecting at all. It was all a stupid act, yet the people in the Capital fell for it anyway. The tributes didn't. They knew it was all a charade, a charade my mentor put me up to. And that was when I realized that the Hunger Games was not a game at all.

It was manslaughter.

The screams in agony. The tears. The pleading. It haunts me. By the end of the game, the last two final tributes fell to me and a teammate from my own district, someone I had teamed up with the entire game and had bonded with since the reaping. A boy named Everest, and he was sort of like an older brother to me. He fit his name well. Big, and burly with icy white-blonde hair. He was the only person I could be myself around since he met me before I put the hopeless act on. He taught me survival skills, which was something I sucked at. I would have died if not for him. He saved me from starving myself. He could have not helped me, but he did. And in the end, I had killed him, my own teammate. That was how I won.

I won by stabbing him to death.

When I killed Everest, I was in hysterical tears. His last words said to me was that he was fine and he was glad that it was me who killed him and not someone else. That made it worse because I knew he was holding back on me. He was easily 100 pounds heavier than me and he still let me win.

We were both from District 2, me and Everest, so we were part of the Career Packs, the shoo-in tributes to win. And before the games, we were both in training for the games like every other teenager back in District 2.

It was so hard to believe that back then, when I was training, that I actually enjoyed the thought of killing people and participating in the games. I was lifeless and robotic, and I learned everything my trainers taught me to do to a "T". I trained with weapons of all sorts and I fought opponents of all sizes. I wanted to be a tribute so badly and I wanted to win even more. I was nothing like Panem's image of a little sister. I was hard-wired with fast reflexes and sharp senses. I was hard-wired to kill.

Killing people for real wasn't anything like how I thought it was. And I could still imagine the look on those tributes' faces as I slit their throats. Their faces were etched in terror and desperation. How could I kill all these people who were involuntarily forced to be in the Games? I tried to make their deaths as fast as possible, without any pain.

I didn't know how to do that. I couldn't split someone's skull on the spot like Everest could. So, in agony, I had to slowly watch each tribute die in excruciating pain and I just prayed for that cannon to go off to confirm their death. It was so hard not to cry. When I cried for them, at the last second of their dying breath, I could see the tribute's tears roll down their eyes. At least someone was mourning their death.

This wasn't like District 2's training at all. It wasn't like the district's training where the opponent you defeated got to live. That you would be able to see your friends that you beat the day before, smiling and breathing. Those tributes all died… And it was all because they were to serve as entertainment for those psychotic aristocrats in the Capitol. They thought this was all just for show. That was bullshit.

I can't believe that I thought the Capital was merciful and forgiving to us people in the Districts. It tricked me into thinking that somehow that the tributes who died on screen were not dead. They were faking it. The Capital wouldn't really kill its subjects, right? I thought that once each tribute died in the arena, leaving the last one standing, they would get to live a rich and carefree life afterward. I couldn't be more wrong.

You know I have nightmares of them, the tributes I killed, and of Everest. The memories came to me every night. And every time, I would wake up crying, so I never liked to sleep. I preferred to be an insomniac rather than relive and experience the sins I committed.

Living in the Capital was nothing like how it was portrayed on tv. It was restricting and there were so many rules to follow. I was partly used to the lavish lifestyle. District 2 was one of the Capital favorites, so they would stretch out some of their riches to us. Though, we still had the same amount of workload as any other district. Thus, I was used to the lavishness, just not the pompous characters living in it. I was forced to wear dresses and jewelry I didn't want to wear and had to keep on a facade worthy of my title. That's what my mentor told me to do. I acted like everyone's little sister, and they all treated me that way. That's what they wanted, and I hated it. I hated how the public loved that so much. Because of that, President Snow was convinced that I had to stay in the Capital to make public appearances as much as possible. I thought that if I had won the Games, I could just forget everything. All the death and all the killing, but the terrors never ended… Eyes were on me everywhere. No privacy. I couldn't rest unless I was in my room alone. I couldn't live in the Victor's village when the Capital wanted me.

I was depressed and lonely… And I was forced to live this life until the day I died.

I was sitting in my king-sized bed in the fancy sheets and plush pillows, a bed far too large for me. I had woken up from my dreams, and I was reliving it all over again. The tears came every so often. Not today, but I could feel them daring to spring out of my eyes. I had accidentally fallen asleep, something I didn't want.

"Valentine, are you awake?" A voice said through my bedroom door.

I wiped my tears away and I cleared my throat, "Yes, I'm awake."

The door slid open. It was my mentor, Octavia. She was well retired by now since I was put into place as the new mentor, but she lived in the Capital with me. She was my source of guidance in the Capital after living in this hell hole for 20 years of her life. She had streaks of gray sprouting out of her brunette hair and was around 50 years old now I think. I wasn't sure about her exact age. She never told me. We didn't really celebrate our birthdays. That was something the people in the Capital did. For us district people, birthdays were one step closer to having your names put in for the reaping. Every child's worst nightmare was to become a teenager, and when you became a teenager you would wish you were an adult, so you wouldn't be able to qualify for the games anymore. Birthdays weren't a happy thing for district folk, and today was my 18th birthday, my 2nd birthday celebrated in the Capital.

Every year, the Capital would hold a party for my birthday. It was exclusive to the more famous and popular Victors. The parties weren't as elaborate as the Victor celebration after you win the games, but the excitement in the Capital was still there. It was usually on my birthday when I would have to put my mask back on and act to the public that I was good and healthy.

"You should probably get up," Octavia opened up my room curtains.

"Alright," I said. I threw my blankets off the bed, and Octavia scolded me. "You told me to get out of bed and that's what I did!"

Octavia made my bed neatly for me, and then we ate breakfast together. Dining with Octavia was, for the most part, was silent. I sort of like it that way. Outside, I had to keep up the talking, so eating with Octavia was the part of the day I could relax. We sat next to each other and we would eat to the sound of clinking utensils tapping at our plates.

"So, what's on the list for today?" I put a blue scrambled egg on my plate.

"You should eat more," Octavia said curtly.

"I'm not that hungry. I'm saving my stomach for the party, you know," I pretended.

Octavia sighed. She knew I was lying, nevertheless, she didn't complain. It was nice. Octavia kept an appropriate distance and didn't force me to do anything. She knew well that with the Capital's eye on you, freedom was limited, so she gave me all the freedom she could spare. She changed the subject, "Today's schedule starts with your bath, then your stylist is going to take over from there. Then you meet up with me and I go take you to your birthday interview with Caesar. You get about 2 or so hours to rest, and the party takes place in the evening and lasts for however long it does, so perhaps 12 in the morning?"

"It's going to be a long day," I said. Octavia was lucky. She wasn't that popular of a Victor, so the Capital didn't pay too much attention to her. She sort of won her Games by default since the rest of the tributes died off, leaving her the last one standing. I was surprised how Octavia was able to hold up mentally after the Games, and she said it was because she decided to stay out of the action so that she didn't have to experience anything. I wish mine was the same case. She wasn't the typical District 2 tribute. She did have the correct set of skills to kill and survive, but she left the fighting to everyone else. And the worst thing she did was throw someone off a cliff, someone she didn't interact with at all from District 11. She did it in revenge for her other District member, so I guess she was out for blood more than I was. Perhaps that was why she wasn't a popular tribute. She stayed quiet to the end and dealt the last blow, one kill. She wasn't forced to watch other tributes die right in front of her.

Octavia urged me to eat one more egg and a slice of bread. She sets the egg and slice of bread on my plate for me as a mother would. I couldn't even remember what my mother looked like, nor the rest of my family. 2 years sounded so short, but 2 years with not a single point of contact, my images of them were getting hazy. I stomach down the egg and bread Octavia gave to me. I had to have something in my stomach for the party.

In the bathroom, the tub was steaming and ready. There was a timer placed at the end to show me how long my bath would take. I peeled off my clothes. Wherever I put them, that was their new home, on the floor, or anywhere I dropped them. I sunk into the piping hot bath. Though the bath was blistering hot, I liked that numb feeling it gave me. It made me think. If I was in a water arena in the Games, would I even be able to take a bath? I knew from the aftermath of my Game that I couldn't stand to be anything near that looked like a dog, snake, or buildings that closely resembled the coliseum I fought in. It was a curse.

Octavia transitioned me from my bath time to my stylist time. I had gotten used to being dressed up, sitting there, and letting the stylist do all the work. I sat there in front of the vanity, and the stylist did their magic. Though I hated the Capital, the stylist was for sure more than qualified for their job. It was the first time I had seen myself look that pretty. In District 2, we spent our days sweating in training. We had no time for dilly-dallying or to care about appearances. My stylist's assistant brings in two dresses. One for the interview, and the other for the party. My stylist and assistant help put me into the dress and finish my hair and makeup. My stylist tied my midnight locks into low pigtail braids and tied them off with long, white strips of fabric. The dress they had chosen for me was a white, floor-length dress made out of silk and translucent fabric. It was like I was created out of a cloud.

"Is she ready?" I could hear Octavia talking with the assistant.

"Yes, she's ready to go and with 5 minutes to spare!" The assistant said.

Like always, my stylist had said I looked adorable. He added his final touches of jewelry and was finished. The assistant called me adorable. I was tired of hearing that. It was overused, and it made me feel like a little kid. I guess the Capital really was trying to portray me as a little sister. It's like I was stuck in a loop at age 16.

With Octavia by my side, she escorted me to the studio room. It was on one of the floors below the Victor's living quarters. We entered the elevators and I was preparing myself for the interview. I tried to think of happy things. My family, who I hadn't seen since my reaping. The first outfit my stylist dressed me in as a tribute for the Hunger Games, the first time I had felt really pretty. The expensive food I got to eat before the Games. My time with Everest, when we were training.

I watched the glowing number above the elevator door count down to the studio floor. I count down the numbers in my head, and when the elevator bell dinged, I plastered a big 'ol smile on my face and had turned on my Capital persona. I greeted the director, the cameramen, and Caesar Flickerman. They had the whole interview set up. Green screen in the back, luxurious carpet on the floor, and two lounge chairs. One for Caesar, and one for me. There were some fake plants as decoration. The director asked me to standoff on the side of the stage. One of the stage managers would cue me when I needed to enter.

The director sat in their fancy director's chair and announced, "Alright, we should be on the air in 3, 2, and-" The director pointed at Caesar and the cameras were set and recording.

"Hello, Panem!" Caesar started. "I hope you are all having a wonderful start to this lovely, fine morning. It really was lovely. Speaking of lovely, today is an eventful day, isn't it? It most certainly is for today we are celebrating the birthday of a very particularly important Victor! And I'm so excited! Aren't you excited? I've been waiting for this all year. Can you folks at home guess who it is? I'll give you a hint. She's known for her benevolent sacrifices. She's benign and she's gentle. Her presence can just light up any room and her chubby cheeks just make you wanna pinch 'em. You all know her, you all love her, she's the Capital's little sister-Give it up for the winner of the 69th annual Hunger Games, let's give a warm welcome to our very own, Valentine Ly!"

The stage manager gave me the signal. Octavia gave my hand a quick squeeze as I entered the mainframe. She cared. It was her small way of showing support. I gave my dress a little spin before sitting down in the chair across from Caesar.

"Wow, you look like an angel, sweetheart." The interview had begun.

"You know, It's so good to see you, Valentine. It's just so good to hear from you again," Caesar said in his more than enthusiastic voice. I always wondered where he got all that energy from.

"Oh, Mr. Flickerman!" I gushed. "I told you to call me Val."

Caesar laughs, "Well, I don't mind if I do, Val. And you could do the same, just call me Caesar." I laugh together with him. He continues, "So, how is everything faring in the Capital?"

"Everything is as perfect as ever and I have the Capital to thank for that-," I said, "-They have celebrations for my birthday every year, and I mean, how could I not love it?"

"Wonderful! That's so wonderful, Val. The Capital is just so wonderful! And if I might ask, any inside details you can give us about your party? The color? Theme? Who's invited?" Caesar made the interviews easy. He knew the exact questions to ask for an interesting answer. And no matter what I would say, he had the power to turn it into something interesting.

"Good question, Caesar! I can for sure tell you that this year many of my closest Capital friends are invited to my party, but the theme is disclosed. They said they wanted it to be a surprise this year. I just hope the theme isn't birds," I added that last part in for fun.

"Birds?" Caesar gave a questioning look. "Why the sudden topic of birds? Wouldn't it be a rather cool surprise if your party was a tropical bird paradise?"

I scrunch my nose in disgust, "But Caesar I can't have a tropical bird paradise theme when I'm terrified of birds!"

"You're terrified of birds! You have ornithophobia, how intriguing!" Caesar exclaimed. He turned to the camera, "Looks like we learn new things about one of our favorite Victors every year, folks."

That was half true. The thing about birds. I wasn't scared of all birds. Just the ones that were bigger than my hand and had a lot of feathers, the vicious ones. Thank goodness the Gamemakers didn't put in mutant birds in my year of the Games. I think I would have killed myself.

"Do you have a phobia of anything, Caesar?" I asked.

"Good question. I have a fear of bees, huh-uh, yes I do," Caesar shared. I was never sure if what he said was true. I felt like he just said whatever was the best answer for the audience. "Nasty little creatures, bees."

"I sure hope you don't have a bee-themed party," I smiled brighter.

"Oh, I certainly hope I don't get one of those either," Caesar said. We laugh together.

The director motioned his hand to Caesar, telling him to wrap up the interview.

"Anyways, any words you want to say to your fans out there, Val? Any messages you want to give to your loved ones?" Caesar transitioned.

"I sure do, Caesar," I said, and Caesar let me take the floor. "To my adoring fans, thank you for all the support you have given me, especially back in the games. Without you, I would have never made it out of that arena alive." I had to keep in check that my voice was peppy and bright. "And to my family-" My heart skipped a beat. I was blurting whatever came out of my mouth. I wasn't planning to say anything to my family.

"Take your time, dear," Caesar put his hand on mine as moral support. He said to take my time when clearly the airing time was running out. Caesar was sweet in that sense.

I did miss my family. We were a family of 7 total. My two parents, and then me and my 4 other siblings. I was the middle child, and the last time I ever talked to my family was right before I was taken away on the train to the Capital. I wondered what they looked like now. All grown up I hoped. I took a deep breath, and stuffed my sadness down.

"And to my family, I miss you all very much. I hope you're all doing well and I love you guys," I finished abruptly. I didn't want to give too much away. I just needed to sound small, sound tiny.

"It's so beautiful how you love your family," Caesar says softly. "And I hope that wherever your family may be, that this message reaches out to them. My heart goes out for you and your family."

"Thank you, Caesar," I said.

"And I wish you a very happy birthday. And how old are you turning this year, Val?"

"I'm turning 18," I switch back to my Capital face.

"Wow, finally an adult. That is an amazing stepping stone to cover and I congratulate you for that."

"Thank you, Caesar."

"And with that, I think it's time to wrap up this interview. Thank you for coming, Val. It was nice seeing you after all this time, and happy birthday from me and from the Capital as well."

"Thank you all for the birthday wishes, everyone! Thank you!" I wave to the camera along with Caesar.

"And-Cut!" The director shouts. "That was exemplary, Caesar. It was excellent!"

Caesar thanked me for the interview and I thanked him as well. Off-camera, Caesar was quite a normal person. He told me that I did well during the shoot and it was nice to see me again. On the down-low, he apologized to me about my family. He was a genuine person. He fed false information to the audience, but if you talked to him personally, the guy was pretty honest. He was actually more calm than you thought he would be off-camera. I guess he was a master at keeping composure since he was working with the Capital and all. Something I could never do.

For my two hours of rest, it really wasn't two hours of rest. It was just me sitting down again to get hair and makeup re-done for the party. Octavia must have given the two hours of rest as an incentive to do well in the interview and it worked. I succeeded in the interview, but my reward was subpar in comparison. While my stylist did my makeup again, Octavia apologized for half-lying. It was okay. She was just trying to do her job, which was to take me to the places I needed to be and to follow the Capital's schedule that had been set in place for me.

Luckily, I had become pro at sleeping still, so it was easy to just fall asleep while the stylist did their art. I don't know how long I had slept for, just that when the stylist tapped me awake, the sun was already beginning to set. The party was about to start soon and the guest of honor was about to be late.

Octavia hated to be fashionably late. She said the fashionably late thing was an excuse for tardiness and I had begun to live by that statement too. I changed into my party dress. It was a rose pink, selkie dress with puffy sleeves and various layers of flouncy fabric. The dress' hem was cut at the knee and the stylist paired it with some white heels. My hair was styled into a slicked-back ponytail finished with a thin ribbon tied into a bow. The slick pony was the stylist's way to give tribute back to my days when I was in the Games. It was the first hairstyle I debuted for all of Panem to see. And on top of that, the stylist dressed me in what the Capital deemed as my signature color, rose pink. They thought it was funny. With my name being Valentine, the Capital people loved to see me in pink or red. Since red and pink reminded them of hearts, and hearts reminded them of Valentine's day. For me, my favorite color was actually coffee. District 2 was located in the mountains, did you know that? The coffee color reminded me of the rock sedimentation I used to live around, which was why I liked the color so much. Not this pink and red business.

I looked in the vanity for the second time of the day. It was similar to the soft makeup from the interview, although they went a bit more heavy on the pink eyeshadows and blush. The stylist said they wanted me to have a natural flush, and they for sure accomplished that alright.

"Let's get going," Octavia said. She was dressed in her own navy blue gown. The stylist had helped her get ready as well. As for the stylist and the assistant, they said they were going to arrive later. They wanted to look nice for the party.

The party was completely overwhelming. It took place at that outdoor mansion the Victor's would celebrate their winning of the Hunger Games. I guess this was where all the big parties for Victor's would be held. As I said, the party was completely overwhelming, and overwhelmingly covered in all types of red decor. Red banners, red tablecloths, red napkins, red plates, you name it. Hearts everywhere. I guess the Capital really was poking fun at my name. They did almost the same exact theme last year. My birthday was like a huge Valentine's day party every year. Whoopee.

There were at least more than 100 people attending this party, my so-called "closest" Capital friends. The guests were dressed in the most interesting fashion and color combinations. You know, the Capital fashion, in which I always thought the color schemes were far too flashy for my taste. The only time I could dress down, was if I was alone and that wasn't very often. Every other day, it was meet and greets, private meetings with high-profile Capital people, or appearances for Panem anniversaries on live television with Snow.

You know I had barely spoken a word to Snow. It was funny really, especially after all the events he forced me to attend with him. I guess I was just some sort of eye candy.

Octavia led me to the grand staircase entrance, and at the top step, the guests welcomed us with roaring applause and cheers of "Happy Birthday." I smiled gratefully at all the attendees. Inside there were endless tables of food and drink. All the food and drink you could imagine. And all this food and drink that could be given to the District people, who were starving. That's what I heard from the other District mentors. I was lucky to have lived in District 2, so I didn't have to worry about all of that. It was nighttime, so the only lighting came from the colored mood lighting from spotlights set around the party. I tried to mingle to the best of my ability. I danced with anyone who had asked. I shared drinks for those who poured wine into my glass and I had small talk with whoever started it. That was until I got to one person: Finnick Odair.

I knew Finnick Odair very precisely from the 65th Hunger Games. How he had been one of the youngest in history to take part in the Games and win. My family and I were rooting for him. All the Capital women loved him and for more reasons than just his looks. He was the heartthrob and that was the title the Capital gave him. He had a dozen lovers. That's what the rumors said. I knew that one couldn't be true. Although, word going around was saying that Finnick was being found walking out of Capital residents' homes at the crack of dawn. He would enter late at night, and exit in the early morning.

I was in the midst of dancing with some pervy older guy. He looked way too happy in my acceptance of his offer to dance. He was holding me so uncomfortably close that it was making me cringe. His breath smelled like alcohol and his hair was slimy and greasy. The longer we danced, the closer he got, and it was beginning to make me feel uneasy.

"So, you're finally an adult, right?" That's when the man slid his hand down my back, I almost wanted to puke, and I wanted to scream, but I didn't want to make a scene. And right as the man was reaching for my bosom, there was Finnick Odair, "Might I step in?" Finnick grabbed the man's hand off my back and glared at him. The man had to give it up. It was the Capital's etiquette. You could ask for a dance once, not a second. And Finnick cut him off. Sadly-not really, those were the rules.

Finnick grabbed my hand into his and set his hand on my waist. I set my hand on his shoulder and we did a simple sway to the music. The mood lighting made his hazel eyes glow. His hair was left in its unruliness curls- it's what the fans liked. He gave me this grin. This fake grin and he leaned his head close to mine. And that was a stretch considering he was a whole head taller than me. He whispered into my ear, "You owe me one, Miss Valentine."

"Okay," I whispered back.

"You know, you didn't fool me for a second in that interview," Finnick says, "All the other Victors knew you were faking the entire thing."

"So what? You do it all the time. You're just a disgusting womanizer."

"The Capital should see your real personality. At least, I'm being honest. You, on the other hand, are faking this whole nice act. You're a career, aren't you? District 2? Did you actually miss your family because I didn't believe you for a second."

Since I had met Finnick, he never really liked me. He knew that my little sister persona was fake, and for no good reason he didn't like that. I didn't know why because he never really told me. I already had an off-vibe from him when I asked for advice on how to be a mentor when I was becoming a mentor for the first time. Finnick didn't like me then and I guess it's still the same.

"What's wrong with you," I pushed Finnick off of me. I didn't care if I made a scene with Finnick. If he were just some rando Capital person, I wouldn't have cared. I would have just sucked it up and carried on. It wasn't worth my time. But from me to Finnick, from Victor to Victor, I thought he of all people would understand. Every Victor misses their family.

Anyways, it wasn't good for my image to be seen with Finnick. He was the playboy and I was the Capital's image of a little girl, and I had just become an adult. The two of us didn't mix. It was weird to see us in the same vicinity. The look just wasn't right. Octavia had explained before that with Finnick's player personality, people in the Capital would think that Finnick spending time with me would taint my sweet personality. So, it was best I stayed away from him.

"Sorry, princess," Finnick bows, mocking me, "I didn't mean to offend you." That was his stupid nickname for me, "princess". It was ridiculous. It made me sound like I was part of the Capital or something, which I was not!

"It's fine," I say through my gritted teeth. Finnick was making me look bad at my own party. He excuses himself, leaving me to the hoards of guests waning for my attention.

When the guests had started growing drunk, less attention was off of me. Who even decided to serve alcohol at a teenager's birthday party? A teenager who legally wasn't allowed to drink. Whatever. It's not like I was expecting anything out of this celebration. And if the drunkards stayed away from me, I wouldn't care how much they drank.

Later, Octavia found me. Her face was slightly pink. She must have had something to drink too. She said it was about time for the climax of the party. That meant it was time for me to go up on the balcony in front of everyone to thank the guests for coming. Octavia led me inside the building and up to the balcony. I have had my speech prepared since last week with Octavia's revisions. I had memorized the entire monologue for this party. The guests hushed down when they all noticed my presence on the balcony. Octavia handed me a microphone connected to an electrical cord.

She gave me a thumbs-up, "It's all you," she said. I nodded and took the mic from her hand, "Hello, people of the Capital!" I wave down at the guests and they cheer wildly. "I wanted to thank you all for coming to my party to help celebrate my 18th birthday. It's just so great that you all could attend. I wanted to thank the host of this event for choosing such a lovely theme. The red matches with my name exquisitely!" The audience laughs.

"The food, the drink, the dancing, it was all so fantastic and I couldn't take my eyes off the decorations! And now for you, my guests-" Then there was the last part of the speech. Octavia had written that I was presenting some sort of surprise for the guests. I didn't exactly know what it was. All I knew from Octavia was that the host of my party wanted to give a little shock factor, and after my line, he would show off his shiny, new present to the party guests.

"-my lovely, esteemed guests. I give you a small parting gift as another thanks for coming to my birthday celebration. I would like you to follow along and to count down from 10 with me please."

A light projected a screen onto the sky. The numbers started counting down and the audience chanted in excitement.

"Ten, nine, eight, seven, six, five-" the sound effects from the projector sounded awfully close to the Hunger Games countdown that played at the start of the Games.

"-Four, three, two, one!" Explosions of red streamers filled the area below the balcony, shrouding the guests with red streaks, and then fireworks blasted into explosions in the air.

Then all of the sudden, the streamers had turned into...It had turned into blood! Someone must have died. Multiple cannons had gone off. Sparks fly in the air. My chest was feeling constricted. Why were all these people just standing there laughing when there were people dying right now.

My chest grows tight and all of a sudden I can't breathe. Why were they just standing there in the arena? Someone was just killed.

My pace of breathing goes in uneven strokes. My vision gets a little blurry, and my head is attacked with dizziness. Everest came to my head. All the dead tributes I had murdered were coming to my head. I had to get out of there.

Everest is smiling at me, "I'm fine-"

-No.

"I'm just glad that it was you-"

-No.

"-instead of someone else."

No, no, no.

Everest takes his last breath. Canon explodes.

No!

"Happy birthday to the winner of the 69th Annual Hunger Games!"

I ran back inside the building. Lighting flashes illuminating the inside of the mansion. I scream. Where did the lightning come from? The sounds of the death cannons were continuing. I had to get away. I ran into the dark mansion alone. I had run so fast I hadn't even noticed the person right in front of me. I ran into them and they caught me. My heart was pumping uncontrollably, and all my mind could think of was to get out of here.

The lightning flashes twice and the cannon goes off two times.

The voice started aggressively, "Hey, princess! Watch where you're go-ing-" then the voice paused. The person was looking straight at me, but I couldn't see them. I was only focused on the ground. "Woah, are you okay?"

Lightning flashes three times. Three booms follow.

I couldn't breathe. And I could feel the tears waterfalling down my face and that big lump rising out of my throat.

"Hey, are you okay?" The voice said.

Then a big release.

I was sobbing. "I just want to go home!" I shouted. "Why! Why did you let me win! You could have beaten me and you would have lived! Why didn't you just kill me!?"

I could feel myself gasping for air. I was running out of oxygen.

"Valentine, slow down! You're hyperventilating," the voice says. A pair of arms hugged me tightly, "Shit."

I had sobbed for who knows how long. I know it was long enough that the death cannons stopped. The pair of arms were still wrapped around me. They were rubbing my back in soothing circles.

I hear Octavia, "Valentine where were you? The guests are starting to wonder where you've gone off to... Oh, good lord, Valentine. We should go." I could feel Octavia trying to pry me away.

I whimpered, shaking my head.

"I'm so sorry, Finnick," Octavia apologizes to the voice.

"It's fine. She had an attack. It must have been the fireworks," Finnick spoke in a kind tone, something I haven't heard before.

"Oh, dear. I should probably take her home then," Octavia tries to pry me away, but I didn't let go of Finnick. I didn't care if he didn't like me and I didn't like him. I needed someone who understood.

"Is it alright if I take her back? I think it would be best if you stay here and explain why the guest of honor is missing the rest of her party."

"That would probably be for the best. Okay, she's in the first building, room 169. You should probably hurry. We wouldn't want the guests to see her like this."

"Right."

Finnick had carried me to my room. He had carried me away from the mansion, back to the Victor's apartments, from the elevator to my floor, and then my room. Finnick stopped at the door, "Do you know the code to your room?"

..."Yes," I whispered...

..."What is it?" Finnick patiently urges...

.."July 3rd."

Finnick presses in the code and the door unlocks. Finnick brings me to my bed and sits down. He tried to lay me down, but I was still holding tight onto him. He stays there sitting on my bed, letting me bury my face in his strong chest. I was sniffling. Leftover remnants of tears dried up on my cheeks. My breathing was still uneven and shaky.

"Focus on your breathing," Finnick instructed. He instructed me when to breathe in and when to breathe out. I followed his orders. He tells me to breathe in and out until I get my paces of breathing back to a steady rhythm once more.

We sat in silence, my face resting on his left shoulder. I sniffle from time to time.

It was nice. I hadn't hugged someone in a long time. Like a real hug. I didn't know I had craved human contact so deeply until now.

"Feeling better now?" Finnicks' deep voice rumbled in my ear. I nod. "Good, can I talk to you now." I shook my head. I didn't want to.

"Alright then." Finnick continued to sit there silently, patting my back. He waits till I'm ready.

"You know when I was five, my parents took me fishing for the first time," Finnick shared. I didn't say anything.

Finnick took that as a sign to keep going, "Sure, I had seen my parents fish, but I couldn't catch a fish by myself. And then came the day for my dad to teach me how to properly catch a fish, the District 4 way. He handed me my very own trident, except it was adult-sized, so the trident was taller than me and I could hardly carry it on my own."

I laugh quietly.

"My dad said I would grow into it. He taught me the proper method and technique to catch the fish, and when I was ready, we went out into the ocean, it was freezing. He said it was my Christmas present. When I had caught my first fish, I had caught it on my second try. Although, the one thing I did forget was to actually retrieve my trident back after throwing it, so I had to swim after it upriver. I remember how triumphantly I stood on the harbor with cold toes and fingers, holding the trident with the fish over my head." Finnick chuckled and I did too.

He continued his story, "My dad said I was a natural talent with a trident, and he said that the skill would be useful for me one day. He was right. After catching fish with my trident for nine more years, I had become a pro at it. Then came reaping day. My name was called. Youngest tribute, but at least I had my trusty trident. And if my dad had never taught me how to use one, I wouldn't be alive today. That trident saved me. And now it's completely become a part of me."

"What if the cornucopia didn't have a trident," I ask.

"Then," Finnick responds, "I probably wouldn't be here."

I answered with, "Oh…"

"Are you ready to talk now?"

"I think so."

Finnick pulled me away from him slightly. Just enough to sit side by side, and to talk face to face. Finnick's hazel eyes were still. He was calm. His face showed concern, but it was tender and kind.

"Have you had an attack before?" He said.

"No."

"So this was your first one?"

"Yes."

"Can you tell me how it happened?"

"Yes, uh, no, it's embarrassing."

"It's not embarrassing."

"Yes, it is."

"No, it isn't."

"How do you know that?" I said.

"I get them too. The nightmares and the flashbacks."

"Really?"

"Yes." Finnick's face had all the seriousness in the world.

...

"Well, when the countdown started it was like I was back on that podium right before the games. Numbers in the sky, counting down. And when the countdown finished, I saw the red streamers. I thought it was blood and the guests were all covered in blood. And then there were the shots of firing cannons, which means they were all dying. They were all dying and nobody cared about it."

"Valentine, those cannons were fireworks, and the streamers were just streamers. You're not in the Games. You're safe here, in the Capital. You won the Games once and you don't ever have to go back again for as long as you live."

"But I'm stuck in the Capital."

"That's true, but now you have me."

"I thought you didn't like me."

"That's not true."

"Then what about the party? What about the time I became a mentor?"

"I just didn't like the vibe you gave off. And the party, I was just teasing you, but I can say that I stepped over the boundaries a little bit. I just wanted to push your buttons."

"Okay, I know it's all fake! I'm fake. But it's the only way I knew, and I'm still alive, so maybe it was a good choice."

"You know, after seeing each and every Career pack dominate year after year, it was just hopeless watching tributes from your own district die one after the other. At first, I was more optimistic. I had come out of my games a champion. I tried to give the best advice I could. They still died. You spend all these hours training and interacting with these tributes when you know from the first time you see them, they're going to die. Every tribute had asked for so many tips in desperation that there was some way for them to live and win, but they had no chance against the Career pack. The Careers killed and preyed with no remorse. They enjoyed winning and they enjoyed killing. And then you come in. You're a fresh mentor, who had just won their game in the previous year with a smile on your face when the Games were nothing to smile about. I had seen your game. I thought your tears were fake because I thought you were just as bloodthirsty and just as crazy, craving to win like all the other District 2 Victors."

"That's fair," I said, "That's what I was taught anyway. You know, it was only after the Games that I truly started to pretend to be nice all the time. Everything else was true. The things about my family were true."

"I'm sorry, Valentina. I was real terrible, especially that thing about your family," Finnick apologizes.

"I forgive you," I said, and I had meant it one hundred percent.

"You can't just forgive me so fast," Finnick said.

"Well, I just did, and I'm partially guilty of assuming things too. Finnick, I thought you were just some slut mooching off of Capital people and was living your fancy life to the fullest. I thought you didn't care about incoming tributes when you told me to distance them from myself as much as possible, so you gave me a bad impression, and I'm sorry about that."

"You don't need to apologize. I deserve it."

"No, you do deserve it. People's perception of you is so misconstrued. And I think I believed them too easily…" I look Finnick in the eyes, "Do you want to just start over?" I held out my hand to him, and Finnick shook it with a firm grip.

"Yeah, let's be friends."