Trigger Warning: mentions of self harm.


Fawkes

I can feel the eyes of so many important people on me as I hold the list in my hands. I only know some of their names. This is the first time I've ever seen most of them, including Alma Coin, President of District 13. I wonder what they all think of me. Are they judging me for having demands.

When I first found out what the rebellion needed from me, I was overjoyed. I'd have the job of my dreams and everything I wanted. It was only when I was beginning to make the list of demands that I started doubting myself.

I told Binah I felt selfish. She said that it's only human to be selfish.

Sometimes I wonder if she forgave me too quickly, if she should still hate me for almost killing her in the arena. She's sure that I won't try to hurt her again. I don't trust myself, though. I know I only did it because I was in the arena and my life depended on it.

But the arena never really let me go…

Sometimes I still hate myself. But I can't act on that hate. I can't push Binah away because, whether I deserve her love or not, pushing her away will only break her heart. Then I'll just be proving my dark side right.

I have to be worthy of her. I have to fight for her, tell myself that I deserve to be with her until I automatically believe it. I know I will one day.

I take a deep breath. It starts with this list. It starts with me asking for nice things.

"Firstly," I say. "I'd like some items to decorate my room with. Just to make it feel like home. A TV. My old bedroom had some electric lights on a string so maybe some of those. And a blanket that actually has some colour."

"What colour?" Plutarch asks.

"Red," I say, without thinking. I fight the urge to blush with embarrassment. I feel like a little kid begging his parents to make his entire bedroom his favourite colour. "That's all I need in my room. Just three new things."

There are a few murmurs from the people around the table but Plutarch clears his throat to silence them.

"It should be easy to obtain these items. They're manufactured in Three and Eight and those are the districts where we have the most influence."

I move on, to the next section of my list.

"I get to write my own scripts," I say. "It wouldn't be the same if I just read someone else's words. I need it to come from the heart."

There are more murmurs. I'm surprised it's a problem. They already know I can give good speeches. This isn't a matter of them doubting my talent.

They want to control exactly what I say.

"You can tell me what to say," I say. "Just not exactly how to say it. Give me information to pass on or a prompt. I just want to change how I get it across to the people. A lot of speeches sound similar so I just want to give the people something different. That's what they want, right?"

"Okay," Coin says. "You can write your own scripts. I'll assign someone to approve every propo before it airs."

I look at the third demand on my list and smile.

"I get some different clothes," I say. "I can't wear one of these jumpsuits all the time. Maybe in my first propo I can get away with it but, if you want me to be the Phoenix, I have to look the part. The Capitol have Caesar Flickerman. If they're smart, they'll use him. And what do you all think of first when you think of Caesar Flickerman?"

The people from Thirteen look confused but the Capitol defectors know exactly who I'm talking about.

"His hair," Fulvia Cardew says.

"His suit," Plutarch Heavensbee adds. "He inherited it from his uncle, I think."

"I'm already happy with my hair but I'm going to need a suit," I say. "Preferably something red or orange."

"Like the flames of a phoenix?" Fulvia asks.

"Exactly," I say.

I feel far more confident than I was when I first sat down. I know that taking this job is the right decision. I can already picture myself in front of the camera in my new suit, giving people hope.

But first, I have to get to the end of my list. And the next term is the most personal.

"If I need Binah," I say. "She can drop everything and come to me. Especially if I'm having a breakdown and I can't speak."

There's a long, heavy silence. I hope it's just because it would be easy for District 13 to do this. They have other hackers who could easily swoop in to take Binah's place if I really needed her.

"I understand," Plutarch says.

I nod. "I have one more thing. Victors are to be protected by the rebellion. Under the Capitol, they have been exploited and threatened at every opportunity. After everything they've suffered, they all deserve a better life."

"What if the victor supports the Capitol?" Coin asks. "What if they pose a threat to the rebellion?"

"They can be imprisoned under humane conditions until they're no longer a threat," I say. "But not executed."

"Even Manel Lobos?" Plutarch asks.

I hesitate.

Three years ago, the night before my first games, I met an incredibly handsome victor by chance in an elevator. And, when he started flirting with me, I didn't think I'd ever become a rebel symbol or he'd ever become President Snow's successor. I just thought it'd be cool if I won my games and also had a victor boyfriend.

It didn't turn out that way.

But, for a guy who would end up becoming a dictator, Manel was a decent boyfriend. His only fault was being a little clingy. It wasn't his fault that I didn't fall for him like he fell for me. It wasn't his fault that, with all the chaos and trauma in my head as I'd prepared for the Quell, I forgot he existed and slept with Binah. It wasn't his fault that, when I came crawling back to him, it was only because I wanted to feel like the guy I was before I died, not because I actually wanted to see him again.

It's hard to think of him as the bad guy when I was the bad guy in our relationship.

"Has he done anything awful yet?" I ask. I want to defend him somehow, make up for everything I did to him. But I don't want to go too far. I know we're supposed to be enemies now. It's too late to apologise.

At least I don't need to worry about Binah thinking I still want Manel. She was the one who found me in the bathroom with cuts all over my arm after I dumped him. She bandaged my arm and let me cry on her shoulder and tell her about how kissing Manel had made me feel so empty and I hated myself for breaking his heart. We both know exactly why I want to make things up with Manel and it has nothing to do with me wanting him back.

It's guilt.

"He took Ramona Hirose hostage," Plutarch says. "It's likely he's willing to do more to fight the rebellion."

I nod. I still can't believe that Manel would be cruel enough to kidnap Ramona but I've realised that I don't know him as well as I once thought I did.

Maybe I even pushed him over the edge.

"Give him a fair trial," I say. "If it's fair to execute him, do it."


Fawkes is already beginning to find his footing as the Phoenix. He's in a pretty similar situation to Katniss at the beginning of Mockingjay but he's a lot more comfortable with it, mostly because a) he's perfectly comfortable sitting in a bunker and making propos and b) his love interest isn't being held hostage and tortured in the Capitol.