Effie was wrong about the press. When she arrives a few weeks later, along with Cinna, Portia, and the rest of mine and Peeta's prep teams, they're joined by a full camera crew.
"I thought Effie said there wouldn't be any press," I mutter as Flavius ties my hair into elaborate knots.
"There was a change of plans," Cinna explains as he lays my outfit, which I can't see from my position, out on my bed. "President Snow felt it would boost the nation's morale to see how happy you and Peeta are after your engagement."
A chill runs up my spine. "You have to keep still, if you want this to look good," Flavius scolds me as I unintentionally jerk my head over in Cinna's direction.
"President Snow thought that?" I ask, my voice small.
Cinna bows his head in response, but says nothing more, instead choosing to flatten out any perceived wrinkles in the fabric of whatever I'll be wearing. But he doesn't need to say anything more, because enough has been implied. If President Snow thinks the nation needs to see me and Peeta, then there must be some reason for it. Something more than just wanting to see the Star-crossed Lovers living happily ever after. The question is, what is it?
The thought eats away at me throughout the rest of my prep. Then I'm hurried out the door in a repeat of the start of the Victory Tour, and Peeta and I are shuffled quickly onto the train before anything else can happen.
This time, however, things seem to be different. The trains have always been furnished in fancy Capitol decorations, but now they seem to have gone all out. The decorations have been replaced with even more high end designs. It's hard to believe it, but the food seems even richer than the last few times. And everywhere we turn, there are the camera crews, capturing our every move as we enjoy them.
"Is this really necessary?" Peeta asks with forced politeness as one camera zooms in on him taking a bite of an orange.
"Oh, yes!" the director responds. "We have strict orders from President Snow himself! Capture every intimate moment!"
Peeta and I briefly catch each other's eye before I dart mine away.
That night, the nightmares return in full force. I wake screaming after only a few short hours. For a moment, I'm disoriented, and can only wonder why there are no arms wrapped around me like there normally are when I have nightmares on the train. Then I remember that Peeta has kept a safe distance from me ever since that night back in the Capitol. My eyes fall on the door, and for a brief instant, I consider going out to find him myself. Something even makes me think that he may already be on the other side of the door. I hold my breath, half expecting it to open. It doesn't.
I'll have to find some sort of way to deal with this on my own.
When the train pulls into the station, there's as much fanfare as there ever was over our arrival. Camera crews sit waiting in a long line up and down the platform, each having staked out the best position they could find. I recognize the ones closest to us, and with the best vantage point, as the show that always gets all the best interviews whenever the Games are on TV. They're also the station that seems to get the best information from President Snow. Even though all the channels in the Capitol are required to air the Games and Snow's addresses, he still seems to favor this one by offering them exclusives. Somehow, it doesn't surprise me to see them in the middle now.
Effie has Peeta and me pressed together, and is running down some last minute instructions for greeting the press. And just like usual, our outfits compliment each other perfectly. Cinna has me wearing an airy, golden jumpsuit. It's more casual than the usual dresses he has me in, which had me curious until Effie explained that we would be taken on a whirlwind tour of the Capitol, where Peeta and I will be photographed and filmed at some of the city's most famous landmarks. Of course, we're expected to look as in love as ever, especially since we're promised to visit some of the romantic places in the city.
After Effie is finished with her run down, the doors open, and Peeta and I take the stage once more. Next to me, he extends an arm for me to take, but doesn't look at me. I hesitate, before wrapping my own through his. This is the first time we've touched since that night. I know he senses it too, because at my touch, he casts an odd glance in my direction and fights back the slightest of flinches. But he recovers as quickly as ever, and his old composure is back. "Ready?" he asks.
"As much as I'll ever be," I mutter, and together we step out and greet the crowd that waits for us.
A loud cheer goes up at the first sight of us. Immediately, cameras start flashing from every direction. It's so much that I have to fight the urge to cover my eyes. Now that we're out here, this seems like more than we've ever had before. But why? Why would this time be any different from every other time?
It's at least another twenty minutes before we're finally able to leave. By now, we've been captured from every position imaginable. But the peacekeepers and other officials let them know it's time to pack it up, and eventually we're allowed to leave.
Just like all the times before, we crowd into a car with darkened windows, so passersby on the street won't know that we're in there. Only this time, we're not heading towards the Tribute Center like we did last time we were here for the Victory Tour. This time, it turns in a completely different direction.
"Aren't we staying at the Tribute Center this time?" I can't help asking.
"We'll be heading there later," Effie explains. "First on the itinerary is a little bit of sightseeing."
I exchange a glance with Peeta. This is news to us both. Not that anyone has really explained what's going to happen on this trip to us. But it's safe to say that sightseeing was not on the list of what I expected. I guess I thought we'd be taken straight into whatever horror Snow has planned next for us.
"Didn't Katniss and I get plenty of sightseeing in last time we were here, Effie?" Peeta asks. I don't think I'm imagining the faint tone of bitterness in his voice. He's right, though. When we were here for the Victory Tour, we were taken to every noteworthy destination in the city. What would be the point in doing so again?
In fact, the day turns out to be an exact repeat of our trip before. We visit all the same places, pose in all the same ways. Only this time, more of the press seems to be following us. Obviously, there's been some kind of order to get more of us together on screen. Is Snow trying to pacify the districts with this?
But by late afternoon, our tour of the city comes to a close, and we're whisked back to the Tribute Center. Here, my style team gets me ready for what's supposed to be the party of the month.
"It's a gala being held for sponsors of the Hunger Games," Cinna explains as I dress. "Anyone who's anyone will be there."
"Lucky us," I mutter. Because I'd place spending time with the sponsors right under having lunch with President Snow on my list of things I never want to do.
"Remember, these are the same sponsors you'll be working with as mentors for the Games. You'll want to leave a good impression with them tonight. The more they like you, the easier it will be to convince them to spend money on your tributes." Effie gives a rather pointed look at Haymitch.
Just like with our engagement party, the gala is being held at President Snow's mansion. It's done up as fabulously as ever, only this time, the focus isn't entirely on us. We do still make something of a splash when we enter, though. As we make our way through the crowd, all heads turn towards us. Hands reach out to touch us. Eyes are glued on us.
It's awful. I can feel myself trembling already. It was bad enough when I knew that, distantly, they all wanted to watch me die. But now, all I can see in each and every one of them is the face of a potential client. Which of them want me? Want us? Enough to pay for it? It might as well be everyone in this room, though surely that can't be true. Can it?
Despite how awful our last few experiences have been, I'm still grateful I have Peeta beside me now. Even though I know he must be feeling as apprehensive about this party as I do, he's much better about hiding it. He doesn't flinch each time a strange hand lands on him the way I do. He manages something of a pleasant smile whenever someone calls his name in greeting. I don't know how he does it, but I'm glad he does. Because without him, I would be completely lost right now. If I had to do this by myself, I would be completely eaten alive.
At last, we're led across the way to a more private part of the mansion, where a small group is gathered. Some of them I recognize, either from having met them in person or from seeing them on TV during past Games and other official Capitol functions. Plutarch Heavensbee is among them. No surprise. So is Finnick Odair, which is more of a surprise, but not by much.
Finnick Odair is another victor, just like Peeta and me. He won his Games about ten years ago when he was only fourteen years old. He was always the favorite contender to win his Games, and it's no surprise he's still hanging around the Capitol now. Strong, with bronze hair and sea green eyes, Finnick is something of a playboy, always going through several lovers every year when he returns for the Games.
His eyes land on us immediately, and he slinks his way over with Plutarch Heavensbee at his side. Yay. Just who I want to deal with right now. The two of them.
"Katniss!" Plutarch calls out, "Peeta! So wonderful to see you both again." He claps a hand on Peeta's shoulder, grinning broadly. "I have someone here who you might want to meet. Though I imagine you probably know who he is already," he chuckles. "Allow me to introduce you to Finnick Odair, victor of the 65th Hunger Games."
"It's a pleasure to meet you, Finnick," Peeta nods in his direction, while extending a hand. Finnick Odair accepts.
"You as well, Peeta Mellark," he purrs back. "I've heard… so many things."
It's an odd comment to make. Peeta must think so as well, because we exchange a brief glance before he gives another, more uneasy smile in return. "Likewise," he says.
"And you, Katniss," Finnick continues, turning his attention towards me. "Leaving the little girl looks behind, I see. Dressing to fit your more… adult role these days?
"Something like that." I don't like the way Finnick is looking at me. Or whatever it is he seems to be implying. Adult role? Does he know about what they've done to Peeta and me? He's pretty close to higher ups here in the Capitol it seems, so it wouldn't surprise me if he did. After all, Plutarch Heavensbee, of all people, is the one who introduced us. And surely Plutarch must know, being the Head Gamemaker and all. That's a role coveted by most people here in the Capitol. He works pretty closely to President Snow. And I don't like the way Finnick is hanging around him. I know that as mentors, we're all expected to get along with the gamemakers or else there will be ramifications. But the way Finnick Odair and Plutarch Heavensbee act around each other suggests they're more comfortable than someone like Haymitch would be around them. I can't imagine Haymitch working too closely with someone like Plutarch.
And what's all this about my adult role? Why would Finnick even be interested? Even now, he looks Peeta and I both over with a scrutinizing look. Peeta must sense it too, because I can see his body stiffen next to me. Move just casually enough in front of me so that he's protecting me, but not enough to be obvious about it. Then he gives Finnick one of his easy grins, so that anyone would think he was merely being friendly.
"Ah, back off now, Finnick," he says in a lighthearted manner. "Remember, she's spoken for."
At this, Finnick's eyes dart off somewhere just beyond us. Surprisingly, his whole demeanor becomes more serious. "I'm afraid that's true," he says, eyes still trained on whatever spot behind us he's watching. "Watch out for her, Peeta. And yourself." And just as quickly, his playboy nature is back, giving us both a smirk before he excuses himself and walks away.
"That was… weird," Peeta says.
"Tell me about it," I respond. "What was he getting at about my new adult role?"
Peeta glances over at me with a troubled look. Bites his lip like he's debating whether or not to tell me something. But nothing comes out.
"What?" I ask.
"It's… just…" he falters. "The way he was looking at you… at both of us… Do you think victors are allowed to buy other victors?
The thought knocks me for a loop. Could that really be what Finnick was going for? "Why would you think that?" I bark back a little too coldly at Peeta.
He sighs. "You know we're not just here for the party," he says. That's true. It's painfully obvious why President Snow decided to bring us both here. And it's not about winning over more sponsors, or connecting with the elite here in the Capitol. There's only one reason we're here. Angrily, I turn on my heels and take off across the room. I'm not even sure where I'm going, but Peeta follows anyway.
"What are you doing?" he asks.
I don't answer.
"Katniss?"
He lets out a sigh. "Look, Katniss- "
"I don't want to hear it," I snap back at him.
Peeta tenses. Now angry, he grabs my arm. Not in any way that hurts me, of course, but it's still firm enough to grab my attention and make me stop in my tracks. I'm so startled by his action, that I forget my anger and look straight into his eyes. He stands there for a minute, like he's trying to decide the best thing to say. Which is weird, since Peeta's normally so good with his words.
"Look, Katniss," he says again pointedly, through gritted teeth. "You aren't the only one they're doing this to, remember? This is happening to both of us."
It's not much, and yet it says everything. As he stands there staring at me, waiting for my response, he's still angry. But now I look at him, really look at him, for the first time since that horrible night, and I can see how destroyed Peeta is, too. He's right. I shift my weight, trying to think of something to say, but I don't get the chance to think of anything because right then, Haymitch walks up, with Effie only a short distance behind us.
"Get ready, you two," he mutters darkly to us. "Snow's signed you up for a repeat performance."
Effie catches up just as he finishes saying it. "There you two are!" she says, putting her hands on both of our shoulders. It's all I can do not to flinch and pull away. "We have another busy night ahead of us!" She chatters on as she leads us away, telling us about our entire agenda for the evening. It's when she mentions the very special engagement reserved for us that Peeta and I exchange a knowing glance. I wonder if I can get my hands on any spirits tonight, to try to make the night slightly more bearable. Then I falter as the room spins, and I lose my footing.
"Oh, Katniss!" Effie exclaims as I go down, but it's Peeta who catches me. As I regain my balance, he offers me his arm to hook my own through, so I can use him for balance. It takes me a moment to accept, since I'm still not comfortable with anyone touching me just yet. But his previous words race through my mind, and I find myself lacing my arm through his. And maybe it's odd, but as soon as I do, I feel somewhat relieved. Because even now, Peeta is warm and steady, and just like the morning of the Victory Tour, I'm reminded that he won't let me go through this alone. And maybe it's wrong to feel this way, but if this has to happen, then I'm glad he's here to go through it with me.
Thank you, as always, to feeding-geese and chelziebelle for all their help with this story.
And thank you to you, dear reader, for your continued support despite my long absence in updating. I'm sorry I don't always respond to your comments when I receive them, but please know I read all of them and they all mean a lot to me, even if I can't get to answering them.