Leah Rockwell, 50 years old

Two weeks after the 50th Hunger Games

I'm not supposed to be here, but what-fucking-ever. I'm too busy checking up on Hermes to care about that stupid fucking restraining order.

I'm sitting on a bench on one of the Capitol's busiest streets. Across the street is the Lovely Dove cafe. I can see Hermes sitting at one of the outside tables with Jemima and Haymitch, Panem's newest, shiniest Victor.

Jemima constantly looks as if she is on the verge of tears. She won't stop hugging Haymitch. Haymitch just looks depressed as fuck. Knowing the kind of dump that Twelve is, he probably is.

Hermes is talking. I'm too far away to hear what exactly. Jemima and Haymitch are both nodding. Jemima waves her hand around in that little sign language of hers. If they didn't look so depressed, it'd actually look kinda peaceful.

To tell you the truth, I'm amazed that they haven't been absolutely swamped with fans and paparazzis and well-wishers all wanting to have a piece of Twelve's second-ever Victor. I scoff. You know your district sucks when getting your second Victor is a noteworthy accomplishment.

Please. District Two had three Victors before the first decade of the Games was even over! Admittedly we haven't yet had another such rash of Victors in a similar amount of time, but still! We won last year! And we have one Victor more than those stupid prissy losers in One. Maybe one day they'll pull their heads out if their beautiful asses and work harder.

Across the street, Hermes exchanges goodbyes and leaves. Silently, I get up and follow him.

I'm not supposed to be doing this. If I get caught, I'm going to be in huge trouble. Hell, I'm not sure why I'm even doing this in the first place. But there's a blackened part of my heart that wants to ruin him. If he's so sure that I hurt him, then I'll fucking hurt him.

I haven't been back to Two since our disaster of a wedding. I couldn't beat the thought of returning to face my peers. Instead, a very dear friend has been letting me stay in the Capitol, at her house. I'll forever be grateful to her.

And since she lives quite close to the centre of town, it makes it easy to simply go on an outing for the day on the fly. Which was what I was doing when I caught sight of Hermes. It was the first time I'd seen him in six years, so of course I had to see what he was up to.

I hadn't seen him since he was loaded into that ambulance. I wasn't allowed to see him at the hospital. The doctors told me that it was because he needed rest, but something told me it was because Hermes had lied and said that I was making him "crazy" or some bullshit like that. He was never the type to take responsibility for his own actions, that one.

My suspicions were proven correct when I was served with a restraining order a week later, and our marriage was annulled. I was ordered to never have any contact with him again, or else I'd be thrown in jail. Disappointingly, I couldn't contact him through someone else either.

I was steaming inside. How could Hermes do this to me? How could he just sit there and blame me for all his problems? How could he act like this is all my fault? What did I ever do to him?

Okay, sure, I guess I did hit him a few times, but he really did deserve it. Besides, I didn't even hit him that hard. He's stronger than me, anyhow. He should be able to take it.

But all the limitations didn't stop me from trying to find him again.

I got a lucky break when a friend of a friend who worked in the hospital told me that Hermes was transferred to a psych ward, where he'd apparently remained for the last five year. Today was his first unsupervised outing to the city, apparently. Lucky him.

But one thing that kills me about this whole thing is the secrecy. Not just the fact that Hermes hid from me, but the fact that none of it - the attempted suicide, the annulment of our marriage, the restraining order, Hermes in a psych ward - was released to the public. They're completely in the dark about it, save for a few lucky individuals on the inside. I've been ordered to keep my mouth shut about it.

It's so annoying to not be able to tell anyone about it, like my friends, for example. I could really use their support right about now.

I just wish that everything could go back to normal.

It's hard to keep track of Hermes from the other side of the street and in a busy crowd, and it's not long before I lose sight of him altogether. Goddammit!

I stop outside a store and let out a frustrated huff. But when I breathe in again, I smell magnolias. I look inside the store. A florist! Great! A nice big bouquet if my favourite flower is just what I needed to cheer myself up!

As I go inside and order one, I grimace inwardly.

Hermes, I know you're out there somewhere. Don't think you can get away from me that easily, you sneaky, lying bastard.