A sickly chill shoots through my body, starting from my heart, and ending in a queasy pool in my stomach. The room spins, and for a split second I'm afraid I might fall over. But I can't do that; somehow, I know I need to keep myself together right now.
"What do you mean, 'by himself?'" I spit out at Effie. She blinks at me, clearly irked by my outburst, which I'm sure she feels was the height of rudeness. But I really don't care right now. How could I, at a time like this?
"Yes," she says evenly, maintaining her composure, though I can tell she's just itching to correct me on my behavior. "Ms. Pomeline Vipointe. She requested for Peeta to visit her on his own tonight."
Somewhere in the back of my mind, something clicks. I know this name, somehow, in some way, though I can't remember how. I can feel Peeta looking at me. Looking past Effie, his blue eyes lock with mine. He recognizes the name, too. But from where
"We… just visited her last night,' Peeta says slowly.
Of course. That's why I know the name-she was the woman who forced us together last night!
"Yes," Effie says in a voice so sweet, I'm almost certain she's just putting on a front. "Well, she put in another request to meet with Peeta alone tonight. It seems she was quite impressed with him on your visit last night."
I'm sure she was. But this is a first, this request to meet with one of us on our own. Maybe it was naive of me, but somehow I figured we would always be called out to make these… visitations together. After all, no one wants to break up the Star-crossed Lovers of District 12, right?
Except I'm clearly wrong. Because someone has requested for Peeta to go, and not for me. But I can't let that happen. I can't let them take him, and do knows who knows what to him. "He can't go alone!" I say. "I mean… are we sure it's safe?"
"He'll have a fully armed escort the entire way," Effie says. "And Ms. Vipointe is very well regarded in high society. Peeta will be perfectly fine."
I'm not so sure about that. But there isn't a thing more I can do about it. I walk Peeta up the hallway to our rooms. Once we're out of earshot, he says, "It's not that surprising. I figured they'd request us by ourselves sooner or later."
So Peeta was already a step or two ahead of me. Maybe that's a good thing he's the one going, then, if it means he's better prepared. Then I shake my head, because what am I thinking? It's never a good thing that he's sent out to do something like this.
"I'm just glad it's me, and not you," he adds.
Well I'm not. "Don't be ridiculous, Peeta," I shoot back. "We have to get you out of this."
He turns his sad blue eyes to me. "There isn't any getting out of this, Katniss."
"There has to be," I insist. "Maybe if we both put our heads together. We could go up to the roof or something."
"Katniss," he says. His voice is steady and sure of himself, but even then I can sense how resigned he is to his fate. He's just putting up a brave front. For my sake.
Impulsively, I launch myself into his arms, pulling him tight against me. He does the same, burying his face in my hair, and we just stand there in silence, knowing there's nothing either of us can do about this. Not yet. So instead we cling together as long as we can. Finally, Peeta gently pulls away. "I better get in the shower, then."
I nod, and let him go, watching him until the door of his room closes, sealing him from view. I consider waiting in the main room, so I can see him off before it goes, too, but instead I go into my own room and curl up on the bed until I hear the muffled sounds of Peeta's escort arriving to take him away. It's everything I can do not to run out and break it up. But I know it would be useless.
Things die down outside. Then it becomes dead silence in my room. The only sound is my irregular breathing. I try to focus on it, honing in on it alone to try and clear my mind. Maybe I should try to use this time to develop my plan for all of us to escape once we get back. I even have half a mind to go find Haymitch and enlist his input on it, until I remember where we are. Anything we say to each other here is bound to be recorded, picked up on who knows how many bugs President Snow will have been sure were installed in this building. The roof is the only place where you can have any real conversation, and even then it's risky because the only security is how windy it is up there. On a calm night, it's probably bugged up there, too.
All the same, now that I've thought of it, the roof seems really appealing to me right now. If I stay in my room much longer, I'll go crazy. And some fresh air would probably do me some good. So on quiet feet, I slip out of my room, and discreetly sneak up to the roof.
Not much has changed up here since the first time I visited with Peeta last summer. Everything is exactly the same. Even the garden seems relatively untouched, save for a few seasonal plants that have been added here and there. I wander through, trying to concentrate on the plants, wondering how natural they actually are, or if they've been somehow modified in one of the Capitol's labs. I recognize most of them, but that doesn't mean they're like the plants back home. Not if the white rose President Snow left behind in the study is any indication.
President Snow. The garden. I'm trying to soothe my mind, to try to forget what's happening to Peeta at the moment. But maybe I've come to the wrong place. Being here just reminds me of that time he and I came up here before the Games, when I told Peeta about how I knew the avox. When Peeta asked me if Gale and I were related.
I'm struck by that memory now. Peeta seemed so casual, so unreadable, but now after everything, it seems so obvious he was trying to suss out what was between Gale and me. So much has changed since then. I barely recognize the girl I was during that conversation anymore. I was so oblivious to the way Gale felt about me, the way Peeta felt about me. All I was concerned with was staying alive. I guess not much has changed in that regard. Except whether I like it or not, it's not just my family's safety I have to worry about anymore. For a second, I can't help wondering how Gale would react if he knew what I had been forced to do with Peeta. No doubt, he would be angry. And now I'm feeling worse than ever. Peeta. Gale. The memories become too much. I leave the garden immediately.
Once I'm out of the garden's confines, I stop paying any particular attention to where I'm going, letting my feet carry me wherever they take me. But I don't even make it back to the door leading back downstairs, when a male voice calls out, freezing me in my tracks. I know this voice. I've heard it before, even if I can't quite put my finger on who it belongs to. My mind runs through the mental index of whose male voices I know that would be here in the Capitol. It's definitely not Haymitch, or Cinna. And obviously the voice doesn't belong to Peeta.
"Katniss." The voice rings out again, closer this time, and instinctively I turn on my heel to protect myself. But I'm shocked when I realize who the voice belongs to. Because he's the last person I would expect to find up here, alone, on the roof. Even if he is being housed on the District 4 floor.
"What are you doing here?" I ask. I meant for my voice to be harsh, to warn him not to mess with me, not right now. But it comes out sounding anything but. I can't mask how anxious I feel. How broken I am. So I remain in place, because it will at least allow me a quick getaway if Finnick Odair attempts anything I don't feel like I could handle.
"I thought I was alone up here. For once," Finnick Odair purrs at me.
"I just needed some air," I say.
He gives a sly smile. "Needed a little alone time away from Peeta? That's understandable."
"He's… away right now. On... business." My eyes fall to the ground.
It's weird… I'm not looking at him, but I sense the shift in Finnick Odair immediately. But he doesn't drop the flirty act. "You must be very lonely right now, then," he says. When I don't answer, Finnick turns and begins walking towards one edge of the roof. "Come on. I'll show you the view of the city."
Even though I've already seen the view from up here several times, I follow him anyway. I come to a stop right beside him. I don't allow myself to get very close to him - I still don't trust him - but just like Peeta brought me up here to talk about something we didn't want overheard last year, I just know Finnick is trying to do the same.
"It's beautiful, isn't it?" He asks as we look out across the tall buildings that stretch across the city. It is beautiful, if you can forget that it's inhabited by people who watch children fight to the death every year for their own entertainment. People whose greatest concern is what outfit they'll get to wear to a party tonight, while people in the districts are starving to death. People who pay good money to sleep with Victors of the Hunger Games, regardless of what relationships they may be in, or whether the Victor wants to or not.
"It is if you don't look too closely," I say.
Finnick smiles at this. "Are you and Peeta having a nice time in the Capitol?"
Of all the ways to respond to this question, I'm surprised when I want to burst out laughing. Are we having a nice time? Sure, if being sold into what basically amounts to sexual slavery can be considered a nice time. But even up here, I know not to say as much. Especially not in Finnick's presence. Finnick is from District 4. It's one of the Career districts, which means it's one of the districts where participating and winning the Hunger Games is considered a badge of honor. And Finnick Odair, with his amazing physique and his long stream of lovers, is at the very top of that heap.
"It's… different than we expected," I say cryptically. It's the truth, but it also doesn't give anything away. Because I don't trust Finnick Odair for one second.
"It usually is," he says. "Often it's different… company, than you expect."
There's no mistaking the pointed way Finnick emphasizes the word 'company.' It catches me off guard, and I can't help looking suddenly over at him. He turns and looks back just as quickly, and in his eyes I see something I never expected to see. He's searching for something, trying to figure something out. It's sadder than I would have expected, but also more urgent. "Have you seen the garden?" He asks out of nowhere.
"Yes… Peeta showed it to me last year," I say slowly. I'm also pretty sure he saw me leaving it just moments ago, if he didn't see me go into it in the first place. But just like I knew there was something Finnick wanted to talk about that drew me over here in the first place, I know he wants me to follow him to the garden, to talk where we won't be heard. Just as Peeta and I knew last year.
I follow him in silence across the short stretch of roof to where the garden is. "It's quite beautiful," he tells me as we enter. "Often I like to come up here to select a flower for my… current lover."
Of course. Everyone knows that Finnick Odair is a playboy. The Capitol has been drooling over him since he won the Games at fourteen years old. Which, if I remember right, would be about ten years ago.
"That's a lot of flowers," I say without thinking. Then I mentally kick myself, because what am I doing? Giving Finnick too hard a time could be dangerous, considering what a lapdog for the Capitol he is.
Fortunately, he smiles at this, though it's a thin-lipped one. "Yes. Too many," he says.
Now he has my attention. What is he suggesting? Finnick has always given the impression that he enjoys his playboy lifestyle. Has something changed? Has he actually fallen in love with somebody? "I thought you liked having a lot of lovers?" I ask. "You never have the same one."
He's silent for a second, like he's thinking over what to say next. "It was never really my choice," he says at last.
That's when it hits me. This is what Finnick wanted to talk about, isn't it? I think back to our interaction at the party, how odd it was. And the long line of lovers. My head swimming, I begin to piece together the equation. Could it be? He's staring at me now, watching me as I work through all this. Waiting to see if I've figured it out.
"They're doing it to you, too," I whisper. And I can tell from the sad look on Finnick's face that it's true.
"I'm sorry, Katniss," he whispers back. What for, I'm not sure. He isn't the one doing this to me. To us. And it's not like he's cheating on me. We've barely met. And while I can't deny that he really is very good-looking, Finnick Odair has never been particularly attractive to me. Maybe because of how easy it would be to lose him
"What for?" I ask.
"Because they're doing it to you, too," he says. "Because I know how awful it is."
There are so many questions I want to ask, that I don't even know where to start. How long has this been happening to him? He was young when he won his Games - younger than Peeta and me. Did they really sell him into this that soon? "How do you stand it?"
Finnick Odair fixes me with a look so cold, I could swear my body could freeze over. I feel my heart sink. He doesn't. Obviously he doesn't. He doesn't even need to say it to me, because that icy glare tells me everything I need to know. Still, Finnick finds it in him to answer with words.
"Find… a way to make it worth your while," he tells me slowly. "They can pay you, you know."
Pay us? I let out a bark of laughter. "They don't pay us. They pay Snow! Like he doesn't already have enough money." Because unfortunately, I've been to that mansion he lives in. I know the luxury he's living in. And even if I hadn't ever been there, hadn't seen its opulence with my own eyes, it wouldn't matter. Everyone in Panem knows the vast amounts of wealth President Snow has. He rubs it in our faces every chance he gets.
"It doesn't have to be money," he says. "It can be anything. Anything you desire. I haven't dealt with anything as common as money in years."
"Then how do they pay you for the pleasure of your company,?" I ask, somehow feeling both disgusted and intrigued at once.
"In secrets," he says, smiling mysteriously.
What on earth is that supposed to mean? "Secrets?" I repeat, looking at him incredulously.
Despite the heaviness of our conversation, he flashes a sly smile at me. "They may love to play up their lives on TV. But plenty of Panem's elite have things they don't want others to find out about. So if they want my attention, they have to tell me."
"Even though they've already paid?" I ask. "How on earth does Snow let you get away with that?"
"He doesn't. Consider it my own personal form of rebellion."
A shiver runs through me, and even though I know it would be very hard to catch anything we're saying, I can't help glancing around us at Finnick's words. It's dangerous enough to mention rebellion of any type - even anything as intangible as what Finnick is talking about-in the districts. But to do it right here, in the Capitol? On the Training Center roof? Fortunately, the wind is so loud, I don't think anyone managed to pick up on it. Besides, if there's anyone who could feasibly get away with that kind of a comment, even if they are selling him, it would be Finnick Odair. I begin to relax.
"What would I do with secrets?" I ask, dropping my voice as quiet as I can possibly get it, while keeping it loud enough for Finnick to still hear me.
"Whatever you'd like," he tells me. "Or find something else. Whatever makes it more bearable for you." Suddenly, he straightens up, and the Finnick I'm familiar with, the flashy, seductive, playboy Finnick is back. "Well, I have to be going," he says to me. "It was a pleasure spending time with you, Katniss. We should do it again sometime." And like that, he leaves me alone with my thoughts on the roof.
What a… strange encounter. It was enlightening, to say the least. So it's not just happening to Peeta and me. Of course it isn't. I was so caught up in the trauma of it all that I never gave it much thought, but it makes sense that this is something Snow would force on the other Victors. Who else is he doing it to? All of us? Or does he just target a select few who he knows would be particularly destroyed by it? Does he save other horrors for the other Victors?
I stay up on the roof for a long, long while, looking out over the city as everything I've learned sinks in. Eventually, my mind begins to wander off to other things, maybe because I need to think about something lighter, more pleasant. I've been dealing with a lot lately. Too much. Honestly, I'm not sure how much more I can possibly take. What are they doing to Peeta right now? How can they make him go on his own? We're the Star-Crossed Lovers. Who could possibly be so cruel that they'd want to break that up? Even if it is something of an act. But they don't know that. As far as they're supposed to know, it's completely real. Or do they? The people who can afford to buy even one Victor lover would clearly have to have a lot of money. And Finnick mentioned something about them being elite enough to know useful secrets. So then would they know the secret about us? Or do they really not care either way if we're attached to that?
I think I know the answer.
Peeta. What is he doing right now? As I take in the sights of the city sprawling around me, I revisit our excursion into its depths. Was that really only today? With everything that has happened, it already feels like ages ago. If I had known what awaited us when we got back, I wouldn't have been so quick to return. But then again, maybe that's exactly the reason this happened at all. As punishment, for our daring to break away from our guards. We had claimed we merely got separated and lost. But it's not all that hard to see through that excuse.
Eventually, I head downstairs. It's quiet back on our floor. I don't see anybody, but I know they must be around. Haymitch is probably drunk somewhere. I don't know about Effie. What time is it? Is Peeta back? If not, she could be down collecting him after his… appointment. I check his room. He isn't in it. So he's still gone. Something dark twists in my stomach. But there's nothing else to do right now except to wait.
So I go to my room, and order a few things to eat and drink. I realize I'm starving. Between my anxiety over Peeta going it alone, and the shock of learning the truth about Finnick Odair, I guess it's no surprise my body craves more energy. I know I could use it. I'm a little tempted to go wait out in the main room for Peeta, but I quickly decide against it. There's no telling what state he'll be in when he gets back, but I do know it won't be good. It would be better to go to him alone in his room, after everyone else has left him alone.
It's close to midnight when I finally hear footsteps belonging to several people out in the hall. I hear Effie talking to someone about something, but I can't make out what she's saying. But I know instinctively, without even having to check, that Peeta is with her. I go right up to my door, so I can have a better idea of what's going on out there. I can't quite tell how many of them there are, but whoever is out there, they're not responding to Effie's prattle.
Listening as closely as I can, I wait until it sounds like everything has died down out there. Then I wait a good additional half hour, just to be sure, before I decide it's safe enough to leave my room. I'm hoping against hope the hallways really is empty, and I won't encounter anyone. It was bad enough being afraid someone would decide they needed to check in on me, what with me being right pressed up against the door like that. I'd rather avoid any questioning from parties I don't care to answer to.
Fortunately, there isn't a single soul in the hallway once I finally creep my way out. I glance up and down, double- and triple-checking, convinced I must be on camera, and whoever is watching will come out as soon as they see me. Why, though, I'm not sure. It's not like I'm planning on doing anything wrong. All I want to do is check on Peeta. I've done far worse, today alone.
I knock quietly on Peeta's door, shifting my weight nervously from one side to the other, and then back again. It seems like it takes ages for him to answer, though I'm sure it must really be something like thirty seconds. When the door finally does slide open, I'm still not prepared for what greets me. I take one look at Peeta's face and let out a gasp.