Chapter 70: Annie Cresta
A/N: Some elements of this arena were inspired by the Crooked Forest (Krzywy Las) in Poland and the Hallerbos Forest in Belgium.
Katniss let out a sigh, brushing her finger against the side of the page. "Oh, Annie," she murmured, a tint of sorrow quivering in her voice.
Peeta shook his head. "The arena breaks many kids, but hers really did a number on her head."
Katniss gave him a dark look. "Let's not mention heads now, shall we?"
Peeta gritted his teeth, his lips pursing in regret. "Right, sorry 'bout that."
The pair's gaze lingered on the girl whose picture sat in front of them, as they recounted the tale of a girl whose life had been turned into a devilish nightmare because of the Hunger Games.
Annie Cresta
District 4
Aged 18
2 Kills
"SHE CREPT UP ON ME": FINNICK AND ANNIE TOP MOMENTS
1:
"Oi! Pass the ball, ya pansy!" the brunette girl screeched, her shrill voice a high-pitched shriek that would've warded off even the most daring of ships and whales, Finnick reckoned. He rolled his eyes, feinting left before moving the ball to his right in a mission to score a goal. He had a bit of a bet going on with his friend Davy, whoever could score first would have to buy the other sea salt-flavoured ice cream at Mrs Tanaka's stall, a widely popular best-seller amongst the children of District Four. There was certainly no way he was going to pass up a goal-scoring opportunity in favour of some girl who was frankly a bit of a pain in the arse. She'd practically spent half the match berating him and criticising his every move. Like, it wasn't his fault he couldn't stop Horace's quick dash to the corner flag, that guy was huge!
With laser-like focus, he bent backwards a little, pulling his preferred left foot back in the air as he prepared his shot. There was only Veruca in goal in front of him, a skinny girl who'd practically been bullied into taking up the goalkeeper position since no one trusted her anywhere else on the pitch. Horace and Salmonie were charging ahead, trying their best to stop him, but Finnick knew that if he took this shot quickly, they wouldn't stand a chance. The angle was tight, and he'd need to curl the ball a little, but he'd done this before many times, he could do it again.
And if it meant shutting that curly-haired banshee up for one hot second, he had no doubt in his mind that he would score.
Finnick's foot struck the ball exactly where he wanted it. Salmonie lunged herself in the air, trying her very best to head it away, but she was simply too short and too slow to react. Finnick watched, his eyebrows raised in anticipation, his mouth agape in eagerness, as the ball curled in the air perfectly. Veruca dived for it, but naturally, she didn't stand a chance.
And then it hit the crossbar and rebounded to Davy for a tap-in.
"Let's go!" Davy hollered, whooping and waving his arms in the air and he wheeled off in celebration, the rest of his and Finnick's team quickly joining in. Finnick, however, cursed oceanically as he thumped his fist against the dirt, ruing his missed shot and lost bet. The brunette girl walked up to him, her arms folded, her eyes narrowed in a piercing manner of 'I told you so'.
"You know, if you'd just passed to me, I would've played a one-two with you," she told him, clucking her tongue as she did so.
"Oh, sod off," he groaned. She reached out her hand and pulled Finnick to his feet. There was no time to cry over spoilt milk, the match had to continue.
The next time Finnick was through on goal, again, the girl called for him to pass. Once again, he refused to listen, desperate to at least get his goal for the day.
Unfortunately, Horace was there to bully him off the ball for the fifth time that match.
Finnick crumpled to the ground, frustration welling in his chest. The ball, however, didn't stay in Horace's possession for very long, as the brunette girl snatched it off him with a clever skill move, darted past two defenders, and curled the ball into the back of the net with pinpoint accuracy. A small group of girls hooted in celebration as the girl jogged off, giving the opposing team a good hair flip for dramatic effect. Finnick sighed, but he wasn't enough of a sore loser to admit that the girl had impressed him. Her technique in the buildup to that goal had looked so flawlessly simple, yet Finnick knew that it was difficult. After all, he'd missed that same opportunity just five minutes prior. He ran up to her and gave a congratulatory high-five. "If I'd known you could do that, I would've passed the ball," he told her.
The girl laughed, feigning a look of mock gratitude. "Why, the famous Finnick Odair, impressed by little old me? I'm flattered!"
Finnick resisted the urge to roll his eyes there and then. "You know me, huh?" he teased, giving her his trademark smile and wink.
The girl didn't even try to resist rolling her eyes. "Oh, of course I know you. Practically everyone talks about you and your stupid smile. Like, for a ten-year-old, you have way too much hype. You're not even that good-looking, no offence."
Well, that was new. Someone who didn't think he was handsome? Finnick hadn't heard of that before. The girl, however, didn't let him dwell on it. As the referee, Finnick's friend Trini, blew the whistle, the girl stuck out her hand. "Annie, Annie Cresta, nice to meet you, Finny."
Finnick shook her hand, his face scrunching a little. "Ugh, 'Finny', really?"
Annie grinned. "Everyone gets a silly nickname from me, fancy pants. Now then, wanna have a penalty shootout?"
2:
Finnick dangled his feet in the ocean, the cool summer breeze gently blowing on his face. The water felt ever so refreshing, especially in these months, and today, it flashed an exceptionally brilliant shade of blue. The glistening sand and swaying palm trees of Paradise Beach, along with its quaint little fishing dock, provided an excellent backdrop for private, romantic moments.
Not that he was here for such moments, definitely not.
In the distance, Finnick could hear the distinctly scratchy ringing of Annie's bicycle bell. His gaze turned to the path that lay behind the row of palm trees. Since their footballing encounter, Annie had become his best friend, if you could really call her that, she was really the only friend who hung out with him on a regular basis and never got jealous of him and bantered well with him. They weren't officially besties, but Finnick figured they probably were in all but name.
Soon, Annie stepped out of the trees, emerging from them with that same confident look she always seemed to have. Dressed in a brown sailor's jacket and khaki pants, she looked like some exotic explorer emerging from her last quest. She totally rocked that looked too, not that Finnick was going to say that out loud. "Hey, what's up, Finny?" she greeted him, plopping down beside him on the dock.
Finnick rolled his eyes. "Yeah, hi there, Anchovy."
Annie snorted, raising an unimpressed eyebrow. "Seriously? You've known me for three whole years, and that's what you come up with? Finny, you've got the brains of a jellyfish and the quick-wittedness of a dying seagull."
Well, ouch. Annie's insults were, admittedly, on a whole other level compared to Finnick's, which Finnick would've guessed should've made her the most popular girl in her year since she could basically out-diss literally everyone, but surprisingly, she wasn't that popular at all. None of the kids in Finnick's class knew much about her other than she was his friend and played football with them sometimes.
But her lack of popularity also cleared the way for something else, the reason Finnick had asked her here to begin with.
"So, the Summer Dance is in two weeks," he started. "You got a date yet?"
Annie shook her head. "Marcus tried to ask me, but he stumbled on his words and just ran off. He's done that to half the girls in our year and yours, plus a couple of guys too. Wish he could pull himself together, he's really nice and not a bad looker, he totally deserves to be with someone on that dancefloor, he's just too nervous."
Finnick nodded in agreement. "Yeah, he tried to ask me too. Went even worse, to say the least."
Annie's eyes lit up in concerned interest. "Oh, really? How so?"
Finnick shook his head. "It's a long story."
"What about you?" Annie asked. "You definitely have the whole school pining to be your date, so who've you chosen?"
For some reason, Finnick's stomach began to churn. He couldn't explain it, but it felt as though someone had tied knots around his heart, twisting and turning the little heartstrings so chaotically that he began to feel the unease oozing through his veins. He was used to people asking him to be their date, but this time, oh this time, it was different.
"Actually, I wanted to ask you."
Cue the ten seconds of awkward silence that followed. Annie and Finnick stared at each other, neither daring to utter any further word. Annie's head cocked backwards, shock scribbled all across her face as her eyes widened, blinking rapidly, as though she couldn't quite believe what Finnick had just said. Finnick gritted his teeth. Perhaps he should've just said yes to Kaia or Onda when they'd asked him. Probably would've made life so much easier for him. But there was no turning back now, the cat was already out of the bag.
"I- well-" For the first time since they'd met, Finnick could've sworn he saw Annie blush. Her cheeks turned a light shade of pink as her usual poise dissolved in an instant, leaving her awkwardly fiddling with her jacket. "But why?"
Finnick shrugged. "You're my friend. Of course I'd want to go with you."
Annie punched his arm lightly, smiling a little. "Sure it's not because you like me or something?"
"Nah, I just wanted to go with a friend," Finnick assured her. "So, what do you think?"
"Heck yeah!"
3:
Finnick hadn't seen Annie for days on end, and a gnawing anxiety was starting to build up in his chest. He'd heard about a freak flood hitting a section of the city, but he hadn't realised that she would be affected. It was that cliché dark and stormy night that almost always seemed to spell impending doom. Finnick was sat curled up on a small chair, his eyes trained on the television as the latest hit blockbuster blared on. Finnick's house was in a relatively sheltered cove, which not only gave them a rather exclusive beach access but also protected them from storms and the works. Tiny droplets of rain leaked through the roof every now and then, but this wasn't exactly out of the ordinary.
Outside, peals of thunder boomed, and the film on the screen began to flicker, becoming grainier by the second. The power was understandably getting disrupted by the constant storms of the typhoon season, which was why the lamps in the house were powered by generators instead of flickering electricity. Eventually, the television fizzled out, although Finnick didn't really care, the film had been a drag anyway. He fiddled with a small piece of rope, one he'd picked up from the beach a couple of days ago before the storms hit. Annie had been with him, and just the thought of her being in danger out on a potentially flooded section of the city made his heart ache and yearn to see her again.
Just then, there was a loud knock on the door.
Finnick frowned. Who could possibly be out coming to see them at this ungodly hour, especially in such terrible conditions?
His gaze shifted to his father, who sat at the doorway of his bedroom. His father shrugged, and motioned for him to check the door, his eyes cautiously peering at the slab of wood that separated them from a potential intruder. Finnick treaded warily over, a bout of confusion forming in his mind. Seriously, who the heck was there?
He clasped the makeshift metal lock on the door and pulled it away, then gently pushed the door open, revealing none other than Annie Cresta herself. Finnick nearly doubled over, not merely at the sight of her, but the state of her, oh goodness. She was dressed in what looked like makeshift clothing made with sackcloth. Bruises, cuts, scrapes and all manner of wounds and injuries dotted every inch of her exposed skin, painting a bloody patchwork of red nightmares. And her eyes, her sea green eyes that Finnick had grown to find quite lovely, they were brimming with tears, shimmering and glinting in the reflection of the moonlight that shone above the cove. Her tearstrained face was puffy and swollen, both with grief and from the weight of her injuries. She took a step forward, and instantly winced. Finnick looked down and realised with a horrified gasp that there was a large gash across her left leg. It was a sheer miracle that she'd even managed to hobble her way to Finnick's doorstep. Annie tried to speak, but she was too choked with tears, and could only let out a snivelling sob.
"Finnick..." she breathed, her voice barely audible in the howling wind.
Annie hardly ever called him Finnick, she always referred to him by some stupid nickname.
This wasn't the confident, cheeky Annie that Finnick knew.
Something terrible must've happened.
Something really terrible.
With a loud gasp of pain, she tumbled forward and fell right into Finnick's already outstretched arms, as the tears continued to flow, soaking Finnick's shirt but he didn't care. He silently held her there, letting her pummel through her emotions and cry her heart out before saying anything that could trigger her feelings any further. He knew that his parents and sister were probably standing behind him, watching with curiosity at the pair of them, but again, Finnick didn't give a damn. Besides, hugging Annie like this, feeling her embrace, smelling the rain in her soft hair, it felt nice, in a way. Time seemed to grind to a halt there and then, and Finnick could've held her there forever.
At last though, she pulled away, no longer crying, but she still sniffled as she told him breathlessly, "It's all gone, Finnick, the house, my parents, my brother, they're gone, all gone!"
Finnick's jaw dropped. "The storm?" he asked.
Annie nodded, looking increasingly frenzied by the minute. "Yes! It's destroyed half of the city, everything, everyone, they're gone! And the Peacekeepers, they tried to barricade the evacuation zones, and I-" her voice faltered.
Finnick gripped her shoulders firmly. "Look at me, Annie, you're safe now, alright? I need you to calm down for a sec, Annie."
Annie nodded, biting her trembling lip until it began to bleed, but she eventually calmed down a little. "C-can I come inside?" she squeaked timidly.
Finnick led her inside, where his family quickly began to tend to her wounds. As he applied some healing salve on the cuts on her cheek, which he'd of course been given a discount for at the apothecary thanks to some charm and sweet talk, his father began to ask Annie a few questions about the flood, just to keep her talking a little, which, to her credit, she tried her best to answer despite the raw shock of what had just happened. But the looming question still remained, what was going to happen to Annie after all of this? He couldn't imagine she would be happy stuck in one of those forsaken orphanages run by either a snobbish old hag or a retired Peacekeeper turned tormenter of children. And getting locked up there would all but certainly limit the time they could spend together, and Finnick wasn't too keen on the idea of losing his best friend anytime soon. He didn't ask though, Annie already had a lot on her plate and right now, he wanted to focus on getting her patched up and in a better condition before discussing the future or any other heavy stuff.
But as it turned out, Finnick needn't have worried. His mother, ever the kindhearted soul, gazed up at Annie as she bandaged her leg, and asked, "Annie, would you like to stay with us? I think the kids would love to have you around."
Annie didn't even need to hesitate before flinging her arms around Finnick, tears once again pouring down her cheeks, but this time they were not of sadness, they were of gratitude.
4:
Annie gently knocked on the door. It was made of driftwood and had a large, golden nautical compass right in the middle, the 'N' for north having been replaced by a number 4. Beneath it was a silver trident, one that brought back memories of an arena, and the boy who emerged from it victorious.
"Finnick? You there?" she called out, the worry rising in her voice with every syllable she uttered. She hadn't met up with him since his Reaping, well except for a brief hug when he'd stepped off the train after his Victory, but the swarming crowd had engulfed her long before she had a chance to say anything to him. Finnick had been all smiles, grinning from ear to ear as he greeted the cheering crowd of excited Four citizens, but Annie knew that he was hiding something, that his pretty smile and casual winks were nothing more than a mere facade to hide his true feelings that lay beneath.
And something told her that he was hiding something very, very troubling.
"Finnick?" she called out again, her anxiety levels now soaring over the roof. "It's Annie, I just want to talk." But what if he didn't want to talk? What if the goofy, fun, kind of cute little kid she'd known all this time had been replaced with a rough, lonely figure who was going to push her away for good? She'd heard of plenty of Victors going down that route, including Timmy Fisher, who'd supposedly once been a bright and cheerful kid just like Finnick had been, only to be converted into a depressed alcoholic the minute he returned to Four. What if Finnick had suffered the same fate? Annie wasn't sure she could live with the thought of Finnick going down Timmy's route at all, no longer being the kid who'd smoothly swerved her around the dance floor in the Summer Dance and the kid who'd agreed to do stupid underwater dares with her. The last she'd heard from him was from his father when they were moving their stuff from their old house, allowing Annie to have the old Odair house to herself. He'd told her to be patient and that Finnick was fine, but he sounded as though he was trying more to convince himself than Annie that Finnick was indeed fine.
There was a clicking sound and the door slowly creaked open.
Annie could feel her heart flutter as a face peeked out from behind the door. "There you are," she gasped, taking in his features. He looked weary, a faint dark blob underneath both of his eyes. His hair was tousled as ever, though, at least that part of him hadn't changed. He eyed her carefully, gazing up and down with a blank expression on his face. Then, to Annie's immense relief, a smile crawled its way across the side of his face.
"You missed me?" he said, chuckling. He was shirtless, which didn't surprise Annie, the weather was sweltering this time of year. Although, Finnick's house did have air conditioning, but Annie was sure it probably didn't compare to the fresh air that Finnick was so used to. Finnick struck a pose, aiming to look as seductive as ever in an effort to tease her.
Annie moved to give him her trademark light punch, but then thought the better of it. He'd just come out of a brutal, violent arena, and engaging in physical contact would probably do little more than trigger a full-on traumatic episode. Instead, she settled for the classic eye roll and sideways smile. "Still as much of a prat as before, it seems," she deduced. "Are you gonna let me in or do we have to talk over the threshold like I'm delivering some package?"
Finnick stepped aside, bowing and gesturing dramatically for her to come in. Annie obliged, and as soon as she stepped foot on the cool, marble floor, her gaze turned to the elaborate furnishings and decorations of the Odair family's new home. It was tremendously huge, a wild upgrade from the small hut that Finnick had grown up in, with three whole storeys, each containing a multitude of rooms and passageways. The floor was made of ceramic, yet had been painted in a manner that resembled the wooden floorboards of the docks of Four. The walls were a magnificent shade of cerulean blue, with prim white ceilings and pillars that showcased Four's traditional colours. The kitchen had a bar table and every cooking appliance that Annie could possibly think of and more, and every cupboard's handle was intricately decorated with nautical maps of the waters near Four's coastline. Similar nautical maps had been hung around all of the walls, as well as a lifebuoy and some fishing charts. The handrail of the staircase that led to the upper floors had little knobs in the shape of steering wheels, a cute feature, if Annie said so herself. There was a room where the Odair family's sports equipment had been stashed, filled with mostly new items, such as surfboards, tennis rackets, kayaks, paddleboards, footballs, basketballs, golf sticks, table tennis paddles, baseball bats, scuba diving gear and even a jetski. Annie made a mental note to ask Finnick if she could try out some of this stuff (read: the jetski in particular).
"Wow," she breathed. In a District where most people lived modestly, such a dwelling had been simply out of Annie's comprehension. She couldn't fathom how someone could live in such a place, which was at least twice the size of Finnick's old house. Running her hand along the pristine walls, she was left mesmerised by just how stunning this house was. Still, she wondered just how Finnick and his family could live in such a lavish space, she figured those long halls and countless rooms must get creepy in the nighttime. Looking at it all, having in marvelled wonder, she couldn't resist letting out a slight giggle. She cursed at herself in her mind. Well, she always did have a penchant for laughing at the weirdest of moments.
A hand rested itself on her shoulder. Annie jerked, only to see it was Finnick. "Yeah, it's good and all, even got views of the sea," he mused.
"But you don't like it," Annie finished. "Why?"
A shadow cast itself over Finnick's eyes. His shoulders slouched a little and Annie wondered if she'd accidentally hit a nerve. "Its- ah, how do I explain it? It reminds me that I'm a Victor, that's all."
"But that's good, right? You survived, your family's now rich, everyone loves you..."
"Do they?" Finnick countered, averting his gaze from her eyes. He bit his lip, and let out a sigh. "They like me for my looks, not for who I am. And when the Capitol likes your looks, they, uhm, expect things from you." He wrung his wrists and Annie decided not to push the matter. She didn't quite understand what he meant by that last bit, but it was clearly troubling him so she dropped it.
"Well, erm, how've you been doing?" she asked, now suddenly feeling a little awkward.
Finnick grinned, that trademark charming grin of us that would've melted most females to the floor in awe and admiration. He leaned closer, close enough that he was barely inches from her ear. "Much better that you're here," he purred. Annie rolled her eyes, which Finnick must've caught out of the corner of her eye, because he followed up with the far less seductive "Also, you have plenty of earwax."
"Oh bugger off, ya hammerhead!" Annie groaned, stepping away from him but failing to hide her laughter.
"You're one of a kind, Cresta, I'll give you that," Finnick laughed. "But seriously though, you're the only friend who hasn't actively tried to avoid me since I came back here. So you know what, this actually did make me feel better, thanks, Anniekins."
Annie's eyes widened. "Davy didn't come over? Or Horace, Kaia, Trini and all the rest?" She'd been sure that at least Kaia would've stopped by. That girl was practically obsessed with Finnick and Annie would've thought that she would show up at his doorstep as soon as he'd moved in to 'be a supportive friend' or whatever bullsh*t she conjured up to get chummy with him.
Finnick shook his head. "I sent a letter to Davy the other day, he never responded, even walked past Trini on the docks but he looked as though he was trying to avoid me at all costs. You're the first, and as it stands, probably the only one."
Annie curtsied dramatically. "What an honour. Also a great honour knowing that I've seen you mess up with your trident before."
Finnick blinked. "No you haven't!" he protested.
A wicked grin spread across Annie's face. "Remember when you were like, six or seven, and you were playing on the beach and accidentally fell face first onto a coconut? Well, remember the girl who helped you up and cleaned that cut on your cheek?"
A groan was all that Finnick could respond with.
5:
The Summer Dance was back, the first one held after Finnick's Victory. Finnick was no longer enrolled in school, he could have, although he doubted any sane teacher would dare to try to discipline a murderer who had the influence of half of Capitol's male and female population, plus he would never be able to stray from the spotlight, and there were countless opportunities for his PTSD to be triggered. But he could still attend the dance, which he did as the date of none other than Annie Cresta. If Annie hadn't asked him, he probably would be at home at that moment, watching some Capitolite drama that the television was spewing out. But hey, it served as an opportunity to hang out with Annie, something Finnick had grown to cherish, especially as his feelings towards her began to shift, not that he was ever going to say that aloud, though. He waited patiently outside her doorstep, strapped in a fancy suit and pants. Checking his watch, he murmured under his breath, "Come on, Annie, we're almost late."
Right on cue, the door swung open, and Finnick's eyes widened. Annie emerged, dressed in a beautiful shimmering sea-green dress that perfectly matched her eyes. Her typically untied hair was still left untied even for this occasion, that was not something Annie would ever compromise on. She wore little makeup, but still looked absolutely stunning.
Damn, when did she become this gorgeous? Finnick thought to himself, staring wide-eyed at his best friend.
Annie raised an eyebrow. "Well, Finny? How do I look? As good as those Capitol chicks who fawned over you every time you smiled?" she asked, putting her hand on her hip.
"You look a million times better," Finnick blurted out, in a voice that was far too close to his 'seductive Finnick' tone for his own liking. "Annie, you're a knockout."
Perhaps Finnick should not have said that. Perhaps he wasn't thinking straight. Perhaps he was regretting even getting out of bed that morning, to begin with. Perhaps all of the above. Perhaps he did indeed have a crush on Annie Cresta. His thoughts swirled, but he willed himself to snap back to the present. Thankfully, Annie didn't make a big deal of his comments. She simply chuckled. "Well, perhaps my looks can finally rival that of the Charming Finny Odair," she tutted, marching forward and shutting her door behind her. She grabbed Finnick's hand. Her touch felt warm and oddly quite comforting. "Come on, we have to go!" With that, she dragged Finnick out of the cove and onto the path to the school.
Once they'd arrived, as expected, they were instantly the centre of attention. More so Finnick than Annie though, most people didn't expect the most recent Victor of the Hunger Games to turn up at some high school dance, but here he was, flashing his trademark smile, giving friendly greetings that oozed with just a pinch of charm, more than enough to make girls of all ages swoon in delight as he passed by. He even kissed a couple of hands, sending the other kids into a frenzy of both joy and envy, the perfectly chaotic combo of any dance party. Annie stood off to the side as he made his red carpet-styled entrance, rolling her eyes and flashing him an exasperated grin.
But she too, inevitably drew some attention, and not always the good kind. More than a few girls shot her envious looks, their glares dripping with poisonous flare as they sized her up, infuriated that she'd managed to score the ultimate date for the second year running, even after he'd become a national heartthrob. Finnick steered her away from such groups of girls, doing his best to wink and flirt a little with them in order to cull their anger towards Annie. She also drew some attention from the guys, who stared at her as she walked around, Finnick's arm in tow. Finnick could tell that a handful of them were starting to see her as more than just a random girl from class, and for some reason, this made his heart bleed with a strange feeling that he'd never quite experienced before. Somehow, them ogling at Annie as she passed by gave him a weirdly compelling urge to march over and deliver a punching blow to their faces. Perhaps those were just the arena aftereffects kicking in, but he just couldn't bear to picture Annie with any of those guys, or any guy in particular.
Although, if she were with him, that might be nice, given how she gave really good hugs and was a bundle of joy to be around...
Finnick stopped himself from going further with that train of thought, heading over to the dancefloor with Annie just as the lights dimmed, signalling the start of the dance routine. The rhythm of the music began to speed up, quickly morphing into a dance anthem that had recently grown popular in District Four, as kids flooded the dancefloor, dragging along their dates, excited grins flush on their faces. Finnick turned to face Annie, who gazed up at him with those enchanting sea-green eyes, a cool, sideways smile plastered on her face. Now, Finnick was a pretty good dancer, if he said so himself, but Annie on the other hand, was, well, a little inexperienced in that department. She swayed awkwardly to the beat, giggling randomly here and there as Finnick helped her along, laughing as he tried to get her to wave her arms, twirl and move around more. Eventually, after some tussling, he was twirling her across the floor, before catching her and letting her sink into his arms. They both burst into peals of laughter, the weight of the world and its many cruelties having been lifted off of their shoulders even for just a moment, as everything around them began to blur, and Finnick had only Annie to focus on.
This girl was going to drive him nuts.
6:
"Annie Cresta!"
All of a sudden, the world began to tumble all around Finnick. Willuna's words, those two seemingly insignificant words, had enough power to set his brain on stun. He stood there, on the stage, with all the bright, dizzying lights and cameras flashing all around him, in a dazed, shellshocked state, his mouth wide open in utter disbelief, his vision swirling, as everything began to blur and fade into a miserable pit of darkness. Through his glossed eyes, he could just barely make out the figure of an eighteen-year-old brunette girl, shakily making her way up to the stage, glancing towards him with a terrified expression, as if she were begging for his help.
But there was nothing he could do. He let out a soft, barley audible, croaked scream, tears welling in his eyes as Annie Cresta, the girl he loved, was Reaped for the Hunger Games. He shook his head, refusing to believe this was real. He pinched himself, then again and again, harder each and every time, trying desperately to remove himself from such a nightmarish scenario. It had worked plenty of times before, this was not an uncommon dream for Finnick to have.
This time, however, it was real. It was more real than his hopes for any future he'd ever dreamed of with Annie. It was a horrific nightmare torn from the world of haunted dreamland and ripped to life. Finnick blinked. What had he done wrong now? Was President Snow trying to punish him? Teaching him some sort of sick, cruel lesson? He had, after swallowing every last ounce of pride and dignity he had ever had, allowed Snow to pimp him out, allowed him to sell him off to the highest bidder and let them do whatever depraved things they wanted to do to Finnick. He had done everything in his power to stay in line with the Capitol, only quietly engaging in rebellious activities in the background, but he'd never openly rebelled.
How on earth could this be happening to Annie? He knew Snow had spies in Four, he knew that Snow would've known about his friendship with Annie, and he knew that Snow probably had a hand in this.
Beside him, Mags gave him a swat on the wrist. "You love that girl, don't you? Well then, do something, don't just stand there!"
Finnick racked his brains. As Willuna said her final lines to close the ceremony, Finnick decided to pull off a little publicity stunt to boost Annie and the male tribute, Alon's, popularity. He marched forward, asked Willuna for the mic, to which she shrugged and obliged, and, in his most charming and seductive voice possible, purred, "If you're watching this, it's high time we get another Victor from Four, eh? And these two fine teenagers right here, I know both of 'em, they've got Victor quality, in fact, if either of them wins, I have a wee little surprise for some of ya'll, lookin' at you, Capitol folks!" He gave a wink for the cameras, just to seal the deal, knowing full well that every second of this was going to be included in the recap reels, drawing more attention to Annie and Alon and ensuring them, Annie in particular, of course, more sponsor funds.
Once the cameras had turned away, Finnick instantly made a beeline for the train station, in his annual bid to evade the prying eyes and attention from his most rabid of admirers. He passed by a few sombre District citizens who shuffled about the streets plus a few rowdy pirates, but thankfully, he was largely ignored and made it aboard the train without drawing too much attention to himself, a rare phenomenon. And a much-needed one too, as the instant he stepped on board, he sunk right into a couch, groaning as he buried his face in his hands. The next couple of minutes were spent practically clawing right through his sandy hair, wallowing in the misery of Annie being sent to the Hunger Games.
Because Finnick knew firsthand that there was no winning the Hunger Games.
Once you were Reaped, you were trapped under the Capitol's heel for the rest of your sad, miserable life, either by being dead in the arena for their sick pleasure or being forced into a life of eternal, unending trauma, extreme obedience and potentially, the worst of all, prostitution. Finnick shuddered to even think about the despicable characters he'd encountered in his first three years of being in the VPR alone, he couldn't imagine how it must've been like for the likes of Sapphire and Timmy who'd been forced to endure it for decades upon decades.
And he definitely couldn't bear to imagine Annie being thrown into such a horrible fate.
Even the thought of her having to deal with the post-Games trauma that struck even the toughest of Victors (well, except for Draco and Julia, maybe, those two were absolutely insane) drove Finnick insane. Annie acted tough, sure, but she was averse to the idea of killing anybody, and had, on several occasions, told Finnick that if she ever had to seriously hurt someone, she would never be able to forgive herself. But in the Hunger Games, murder was the only way to get out of the arena. No Victor had ever won with zero kills before, and not even the most optimistic parts of Finnick's mind could believe that such a feat could ever be achieved.
And of course, that was all assuming Annie even won in the first place.
"Finnick, are you alright?"
Finnick glanced up and saw that Jolien Fisher had entered, her face pale as ever, a concerned look on her face. Time and trauma had not been a good combo for the older Victor and at the age of fifty-five, she looked much weaker and frailer than ever. Still, Finnick knew she was no quitter, not by any means. Over the past couple of years, through sheer willpower and plenty of peer support, she'd managed to kick her alcoholism and had reconciled with her younger Victor siblings after years of giving them the cold shoulder. She'd also lived long enough to be freed from the clutches of the VPR, a huge relief for her, relieving a massive burden from her life. Apart from Mags, she was the Victor that Finnick trusted the most.
"Annie, you love her, don't you?"
Damn it, was Finnick really that obvious? He sighed and gave a defeated shrug. "Yeah, I guess so."
Jolien nodded and sat beside him, giving him a reassuring pat on the back. "Tell her. Give her something worth fighting for."
Finnick stared at her, a blank look on his face. "But what if she doesn't feel the same way? That might just stress her out," he protested.
Jolien smiled knowingly. "Mags and I, well, we've seen young love blossom before, Iris and Caesar, remember? Annie likes you too, you know, she's even told Mags about it once. She's smitten with you, because, well, you're her everything, apparently. Her words, not mine. Keep her close, Finnick, she's a keeper for sure."
Before Finnick could respond, Willuna entered the train carriage with Annie and Alon in tow. The other Victors quickly shuffled in as well, plus a couple of Peacekeepers, just in case anyone was feeling spicy or rebellious. Finnick gave Annie a quick glance. She was still shaking a little, but maintained as good of a steely expression as she could possibly muster. Chin up, back straight, fists balled, she looked every bit the cool, confident Annie that Finnick had grown to adore over the years. "Right now," Willuna said, clapping her hands with an exasperated sigh. She hated these Games as much as the average citizen did, Finnick knew, but still had to play the role of encouraging escort, just to liven the mood a little bit. "Mentors?"
Without any hesitation, Finnick stepped forward. "I'll take Annie."
Willuna raised an eyebrow. Finnick had a feeling Mags or maybe even Nemo had told her about Finnick and Annie's relationship. Oh well, it looked like the whole world was going to know about his feelings before Annie did. "Annie, what do you think?"
Annie nodded quickly. "Yep, I'll go with Finnick."
She met his eyes for a moment, and Finnick gave her a 'you got this' look, or at least he hoped that she'd read it that way. Annie looked to have relaxed a bit more, and had stopped shaking altogether. Good for her, Finnick thought, she's got a cool head, that's much better than a panicked and alarmed one.
"Can I take Jolien?" Alon asked, his voice a tad too sheepish for Finnick to fancy his chances. He seemed scared out of his mind and was still sniffling a little. Not to mention, he was rather short and being a thirteen-year-old, his odds were unfortunately not the best. But his loss was Annie's gain. That meant Annie had one less major competitor, although Finnick wasn't too happy to be thinking like that.
With that, everyone went off to their respective rooms. Poseidon muttered something about not being chosen as mentor, but everyone paid him about the same amount of attention that they normally did, which is to say, none at all. Finnick placed his arm around Annie as he led her to her room. To his delight, she reciprocated by resting her head on his shoulder, humming softly as they went into the room. As Finnick closed the door, he looked down, and noticed that her arm was now around his waist too.
Perhaps Jolien was right after all.
7:
Finnick sat on the edge of Annie's bed as she paced around the room, mulling over her first day of training. She kept her head down, her brown waves of hair cascading down her face and shielding it from the outside world, leaving Finnick in the dark about her emotions. Her voice as she talked about the other tributes and the various stations she popped by was fairly monotonous, again refusing to give away even the slightest inkling of how she really felt.
Finnick reached over and touched her arm. She flinched, stiffening a little but quickly relaxing as she gazed up at Finnick, her hair parting to reveal an anxious look on her face.
"Did you get into the Career pack?" he asked gently.
Annie shook her head. "They're all idiots this year, didn't want a Four in the pack."
Finnick scoffed at that. Annie had actually trained at the Career Academy in Four, and so had Alon, so the pair were more than capable at fighting and surviving in the arena. But recently, Draco had begun to increasingly grow spiteful of both One and Four, owing to Two's waning fortunes in recent Games and rumours of anti-Capitol sentiments spreading like wildfire around the Districts. Usually, Two's tributes had their own minds and recognised Fours' worth in the Career packs, but this year, Finnick had observed worrying similarities between the tributes and Draco himself. Everything from the way they talked to the way they sneered down even the ever-loyal Ones reeked of Draco's influence.
But at least Annie and Alon could keep them at bay now.
"I saw you at the medicine station, how's it going?" Finnick asked. Medicine was a key skill to learn heading into the arena, first aid and wound treatment were absolutely vital and of course medicinal plants were more than welcome for any sick or injured tribute. Most Victors hailing from Outlier Districts had spent at least a bit of their time there, and even the Careers often stopped by, recognising its importance in a group that was going to be doing plenty of fighting in the arena.
Annie simply shrugged. "I've got a good hang of it, I guess. Alon's better than me, though." Then, she sat down beside Finnick and leaned closer. "The boy from Nine's absolutely insane. Like, he's been screaming all day long at everyone, he's going to be a pain in the arse in the arena, I bet."
Finnick gritted his teeth. She was right, the boy, Oat, did seem like a bit of a psycho during Training. Even Finnick could hear every word Oat had said during training loud and clear all the way up from the Mentors' loft, and it had not sounded pretty. Miller was his mentor, no doubt about that, and the gangster Victor simply cackled and applauded every time Oat hurled threats and abuse at any of the tributes. Miller had been twiddling around with his signature card too, which worried Finnick that Oat would be a threat going into the arena, not just by his sheer physicality, but also for his wits and trickiness that Miller may have been trying to impart in him."Whatever you do, don't go anywhere near that boy, not even if he's down and injured and both of you are in the finale, he and Miller are up to something, I don't know what, but you don't want to be on the end of it," he warned.
Annie nodded attentively. "Yeah, but the rest of the tributes don't look so strong, apart from maybe the girl from Five and the pair from Seven."
"The boy from Ten seems like a smart kid too, don't rule anyone out," Finnick pointed out.
Annie rolled her eyes. "Yeah, yeah, I know that."
An uncomfortable silence followed in which neither of the pair quite knew what more to say to the other. Finnick contemplated heading off for a good night's sleep, but he didn't want to leave Annie here alone. This was the scariest moment of her life, he wanted to be there for her for as long as he could, spend every waking moment with her while she was still there, reassure her that everything was going to be fine, not that Annie needed such reassurances, of course. Mags had taken care of him during his Games, and how he wanted to do the same and more for Annie.
Perhaps it was more to comfort himself than it was to comfort her, he quickly realised.
"Tell her. Give her something worth fighting for."
Jolien's words rang in his ears and in the heat of the moment, he shoved aside his pride and turned to face Annie, his heart thumping and clanging against his chest. This could either be the best or worst decision of his life, but Annie might not even be alive in a few days, the time had to be now to tell her the truth.
"Annie, I have something to tell you," Finnick said.
Annie furrowed her eyebrows. "Is one of the tributes after me? Do any of them have a grudge of Four?"
Finnick quickly shook his head. "No! Not any of that, no. It's just that-" He took a deep breath, biting nervously on his lower lip as Annie gave him a confused look. "I've liked you, Annie, for, well, a long time, I could say. And I'm starting to think that I love you." He exhaled and instantly, he felt as though a great weight had been lifted off his shoulders. But then the weight was placed back there when he remembered that he still had to wait for Annie's reaction.
Annie stared at him blankly, her face flushing a cute shade of red and for a full two seconds, all Finnick could hear was white noise. Every second felt like a million years of his heart being lost at sea, yearning for any sign of love from his counterpart.
Then, a smile broke across her face and she laughed. Finnick's heart sank. Great, now she was laughing at him. This was a bad idea, a terrible idea, really. How the hell did Jolien convince him to do this?
However, what Annie did next left Finnick absolutely stunned speechless. She leaned over and kissed him on the lips. Finnick's brain went on haywire and electric volts began to surge through his veins. It was a warm, sweet kiss, without any of the lust and passion that the Capitolite women seemed to be so full of, just simple yet loving.
And Finnick absolutely loved it.
That was pretty much the agenda for the night, just the two of them lying on the bed, laughing as they made out, the looming Hunger Games a world and a half away from them in those precious moments.
8:
Finnick's eyes were glued onto the screen, refusing to look away for even a split second throughout Annie's time in the arena. Jolien and Mags remained by his side the whole time, feeding him food and giving him water to drink. He'd nearly dozed off a couple of times, but a couple of swats and punches that he'd requested from a rather reluctant Jolien were more than enough to keep him going.
He had to be there for Annie every step of the way, sleep was simply a secondary priority when Annie's life was on the line.
Mags had also brought him and Jolien plenty of coffee, the finest, most expensive ones she could find, giving the pair that extra caffeine kick to watch over their tributes night and day. "Keep your girlfriend alive, Finnick," she would mutter every time she came back with two steaming cups of coffee.
Annie and Alon had escaped from the Bloodbath with a backpack each and a dagger that Annie had swiped after punching the girl from Ten in the face. That part had made Finnick smile for a split second. At least she was able to face off against the other tributes in the arena, not that Finnick had ever doubted her. This year's arena was a dense forest with a small stream running through the centre of the arena, flowing all the way up a hilly area that was blockaded by a dam. There wasn't much water for Annie and Alon to take advantage of, yet the dense forests should give them ample hiding spots to evade the Careers and launch ambush attacks or raids on other tributes and their supplies, so Finnick wasn't all too miffed about Annie's odds. He took a sip of coffee, watching intently as Annie and Alon sat behind a row of bushes to rest for the night. The pair were discussing the other tributes and their plans for the next day using sign language, as per Finnick's instructions. They were both fluent in sign language, as Annie's deceased mother had been deaf and Alon's best friend was mute, so Finnick wanted to use such a skill to their advantage to stay hidden and stealthy in the arena.
Neither of them had been able to take much food from the Cornucopia apart from a couple of chocolate bars and a small packet of trail mix, which Finnick figured they would probably save for the future. But it had been a long day and Finnick had plenty of cash to burn, thanks to some frantic phone calls he'd made over the past couple of days promising free, ahem, companionship services, in exchange for sponsor funds, an offer that far too many Capitolites were more than willing to lap up, showering Finnick with bundles of cash to spend on Annie and Alon. Jolien herself had a couple of connections, being the eldest of the legendary Fisher siblings that had blazed District Four's most dominant Games streak ever, so that only increased the pool of cash at hand. For their first night, Finnick decided to give them a nice dinner. Looking through the catalogue, he found a surprisingly not-too-expensive bowl of fish stew as an option. Perfect. A warm District Four comfort food to keep morale high and provide some warmth as the temperatures began to drop for the night, at least according to the arena temperature stats shown on the sidebar on Finnick's screen. He checked to make sure there were no tributes near Annie and Alon, then punched a couple of buttons and the gift was on its way.
Soon, a silver parachute appeared on the top of Finnick's screen, slowly descending towards Annie and Alon's hiding spot, its all-too-familiar chime whistling through the nighttime breeze. Annie was the first to notice it, and she quickly swiped it out of the air before practically tearing the box open to reveal the gift. Instantly, her face lit up in delight, a sight for Finnick's sore eyes.
It's fish stew! she signed to Alon, her hands jittery with excitement.
A smile broke out across Alon's face and he opened his mouth to exclaim something but Annie quickly shoved a hand across it, her eyebrows curling in anger as she raised a finger to her lips.
Right, sorry, Alon signed. Is there a note in there?
Annie rummaged through the box and pulled out a tiny slip of paper. Finnick had written 'Stream, 500m west' on it, a plain, simple message that conveyed his instructions well. Water was a priority in this arena, so he figured he'd get them to reach that water source as soon as possible. Annie glanced up to where she thought the cameras were, only being slightly off, and gave that dazzlingly beautiful sideways smile that Finnick had grown ever so accustomed to. Thank you, Finny.
Finnick felt his heart flutter like never before, and for a moment, he dared to believe that Annie was coming home.
"How's your girl doing?" someone behind him asked.
Finnick turned to see Demeter Jarvinen, the most recent Victor with a delightful penchant for screwing the Capitol over every step of the way, particularly during her Victory Tour. Such an attitude of rebelliousness had drawn the pair closer and they'd bonded when Demeter came over to District Four for her tour and had practically spent every second making President Snow jokes. "She's doing fine, how's uhh, Oat doing?"
Demeter's eyes darkened and she gave an exasperated sigh. "He's unfortunately still looking peachy as ever. I knew that the Careers would go for Ramona after my antics last year, I mean she's been a stubborn brat who nearly punched Gwen on the train but still, she didn't deserve to be gutted by the Twos like that."
Finnick gritted his teeth at the memory of Ramona's death at the Bloodbath. It had been one heck of a grisly sight, to say the least.
Just then, Demeter's eyes widened. "Speak of the devil..." she murmured, grabbing Finnick by the head and swivelling it towards the screen.
To Finnick's horror, he saw Oat bounding through the trees, heading straight for Annie and Alon's hiding spot. Across the room, Miller shouted, "Move quieter, you buffoon!" But Finnick was too paralysed with fear to care. He gaped at the screen, his face turning paler than that of a ghost, his hands frozen and refusing to move even an inch. There was no Jolien to help around either, she was in the bathroom having suffered a major stomachache. Annie, Annie was going to get attacked!
"Move over!" Demeter demanded. Her voice had the commanding effect of an army general, and like a faithful soldier stuck in battle, Finnick obeyed, ducking to the side as Demeter grabbed his keyboard and started to punch in a sponsor for Annie and Alon, a steely look on her face. She looked far calmer and more collected in such a moment, and her decisiveness snapped something within Finnick, who refocused himself, shoving aside the dread churning in his stomach to gaze back at the screen, where a silver parachute was making its way towards Annie and Alon.
Finnick held his breath as they picked it up, signing to each other about how they were surprised Finnick was giving them another knife.
Until they saw the note.
OAT! ~ Finnick
"Damn it!" Annie yelped. "Alon, we have to-"
She never finished her sentence. What followed next would haunt Finnick for life. Oat burst through the trees, his pair of swords raised high in the air as he roared a gangster chant. Annie had just enough time to back away as Oat sliced his swords, beheading Alon in one, swift swipe, sending the poor young boy's severed head flying through the air before landing skewered on Oat's other sword, which he thrust at Annie, who only barely managed to catch it by holding onto Alon's head.
Finnick had never seen so much blood before in his life. It was just pouring, oozing, drenching every inch of soil, grass and bark within the area, as organs began to tumble limply out of what remained of Alon's body, which Oat was beginning to slash at in a frenzied fit.
And the head, the frantic scream forever immortalised on Alon's final expression, now in a trembling Annie's hands, it made him sick to the core. He gaped at the screen, stunned by the sheer brutality of Alon's death.
But nothing could prepare him for Annie's reaction.
"AAAAAAAAARRRRRRRGGGGGGHHHHHH!"
Annie let loose the world's loudest, most excruciatingly heartbreaking scream, a terrified cry that echoed across the dense woods, shocking the other mentors so much, some of them even had to cover their own ears. Finnick watched in horror as Annie's eyes widened, distorting from a look of terror to a deranged blaze of insanity, her eyebrows contorting and twisting about, her face scrunching to form a multitude of expressions in the span of four seconds, her mouth wide agape, continuing to let out a deafening scream with no breaks or pauses whatsoever, her arms flailing wildly as she dropped Alon's head, her legs succumbing to demented spasms and every limb of hers jerking violently. Even Oat looked unnerved by her reaction, his sword lowering for just a moment in confusion.
It was all the time Annie needed to stage a counterattack.
Finnick's head twitched, his mouth opening and closing like a fish as he was forced to watch Annie raise both of her knives before lunging at Oat, letting loose a berserk warcry as she plunged both of her knives deep into Oat's chest, over and over again, even long after the cannon boomed and the hovercraft started to arrive in the horizon to collect Alon and Oat's bodies. She screamed and stabbed, baring her teeth as though they were fangs as she snarled and hissed, slashing and slicing whatever remained of Oat's now-mutilated corpse. If Ramona and Alon's deaths had been considered grisly, this was nothing short of a hurricane of blood and bone spraying about in colossal quantities.
"Annie, please, no..." Finnick whimpered, clutching onto Demeter's arm as if it were a support pillar.
"What's going on?" Jolien demanded, barging into the room, but one look at the mutilated corpses on the screen was more than enough to paint her the full picture and a cloud appeared over her eyes. "Oh no, Finnick..." She rushed over and gave Finnick a hug, but Finnick's entire being was numb to the core, unable to process any more emotions as he watched Annie drop her knives in horror, staring wide-eyed at Oat, then at Alon, then screaming once more as she clutched her face with her blood-soaked hands, the realisation of what she'd just done giving her a crazed look of fear. She ran off into the night, screeching like a banshee, tears welling in her eyes.
Finnick's world began to sway and darken. He couldn't take this anymore, this was too much for him, he couldn't bear to see Annie in such a state, so completely lost of herself, so far gone in her own mind, it threatened to drive Finnick nuts.
"Finnick, stay with us," Demeter told him sharply, giving him a slap in a futile effort to keep him from collapsing.
Then, the world turned pitch black.
9:
Annie had cooled off a little, but still showed no signs of any sort of mental recovery from that fateful night. She had discovered a wide glade with a carpet of bluebell flowers, their beautiful violet hues twinkling under a beam of seemingly enchanted sunlight. Finnick watched with a mental support team of Jolien, Demeter, Mags and Nemo as she frolicked about the bluebell flowers, bending down to have a sniff every now and then. A small dirt path cobbled across the flowers, and had this been any occasion other than the Hunger Games, this would've been a lovely site. In a world unlike Panem, Finnick could imagine himself sitting there with a healthy, mentally stable Annie, laughing over a shared picnic amongst the flowers, bees and butterflies dancing all around them, the birds chirping and tweeting melodically off in the distance. It sounded ever so picturesque, yet such a wonderful imagery had to be tainted by the scum that was the Hunger Games.
Annie seemed to have no recollection of where she even was. She hummed to herself, murmuring about how she was a lost princess in a forgotten fairytale, seemingly entranced in her own little world. She pranced in neat little circles, stopping at exactly every twenty seconds to do two little twirls before her arms jerked violently and she daintily crumbled to the floor, quickly getting back up again after a few moments. Once, the boy from Seven had come across her, and although she was staring right at him, she didn't even seem to acknowledge in presence, which worried Finnick about how far gone she really was. As soon as Annie started to dance in that creepy, trance-like manner of hers again, the boy gazed down at the flowers, and then at her face which was smeared in blood and dirt and seemed to sense something suspicious, before tailing off once Annie started singing about how she'd slain a mighty beast, raising her still-blood soaked hands into the air, her eyes bewildered and never once blinking, a sight that would have terrified even the Careers.
"Oh, Annie..." Finnick moaned, shaking his head in dismay as he sent yet another parachute containing bottled water her way. It was the fifth day and he'd sent her at least eight of such bottles, although she'd only ever noticed four and had only picked up two of them. Around the rest of the arena, infection had claimed a couple of lives, and dehydration had claimed yet another, with the Careers having slaughtered another two, leaving just nine tributes left in the mix. And no matter how much Finnick tried to tell himself that Annie was coming home, with every passing day she seemed to be going further and further into her own mind, being a prison and slave to her own traumatic memories, unable to break free.
"Sorry mate, but you'll need a miracle at this point, her head's getting flooded over there," Nemo admitted, biting his lip as she shook his head sadly.
Finnick groaned, burying his head in his arms. Mags jabbed Nemo by the side and he yelped. Finnick took another look at Annie, who'd tired herself out and was taking a seat on one of the crooked trees that dotted this section of the arena. The pine trees curved and bent sideways near ground level, painting a rather creepy picture when bathed in the moonlight, but it did make for a decent seat in the daytime and Annie could lean back against the upright section of the trunk. Nemo was right, though, she was getting flooded by her memories. She'd started crying there and then, her mouth downturned and contorting as she glanced around with a horrified expression, as if stuck in a terrible nightmare, which the Hunger Games were to be fair, whimpering about how she'd done some very bad things to no one in particular.
Flooded.
Finnick jolted upright, startling everyone around him. Demeter and Nemo nearly toppled into each other as they backed away from him. "Finnick?" Jolien asked, raising an eyebrow. "What is it?"
"I have an idea!" he exclaimed, before bolting out of the room.
"Hey, wait!" Demeter shouted, sprinting over to catch up with him. "Where the hell are you going?"
"To see the Gamemakers!" he told her, stepping onto the elevator and pressing the button for the first floor.
Demeter squeezed in with him. "The Gamemakers? What are you going to do, sleep with them to let Annie win?" Finnick gave her a knowing look. Demeter balked. "Wait, you're actually-"
"The dam," he told her breathlessly. "Break the dam, flood the arena, Annie wins."
Demeter shook her head as the pair exited the elevator and ran out into the Capitol streets. "You are a different kind of crazy, Finnick Odair," she grumbled, but couldn't hide the look of amusement on her face.
Once they'd reached the Gamemakers' Headquarters, bursting through the front doors, a burly Peacekeeper tried to stop them, but one look at who they were, and he let the pair through, past a rather intimidated receptionist and up the elevators to the office of the Head Gamemaker, Paula Ashgrove. They practically barged into the room, stunning Paula right in her seat. "Hey! What are you two doing here?"
"Silas," Finnick panted. "How much for an earthquake?"
Paula raised an eyebrow. She'd calmed down a little bit now, and Finnick could tell that the gears in her head had begun to turn and click in place. A sinister smirk began to surface on her face. "An earthquake, you say?"
"Yes, an earthquake strong enough to break the dam and flood the whole arena, if it's not too much of a problem for a wonderful lady like yourself?" Finnick switched his tone to a seductive one, leaning forward to kiss Paula's hand and carressing it gently. Behind her, Finnick sensed that Demeter was probably rolling her eyes at all of this. Flattering the Capitol was, to her, out of the question.
Paula chuckled. "Well, I'll be damned. I've always been a big fan of yours, Finnick. You know what? We can, ah, make arrangements, right here, right now."
Finnick gritted his teeth. He didn't want to do it with this utter beast of a monster, yet he had no choice. He was doing this for Annie, he reminded himself firmly. This was all to save Annie's life, and he would go through hell and back to ensure that Annie was safe and alive. "You've got a deal, Paula," he purred, unbuttoning the top button of his shirt.
"Ugh, I'm gonna go," Demeter murmured.
"Ah, but wait, my dear!" Paula's eyes twinkled, and Finnick could see nothing but pure evil in those tinted lashes of hers. "You see, Demeter, I would like for you to be part of our little arrangement as well."
Demeter turned pale. "Wh-what?"
"You know what I mean, my dear," Paula cackled cruelly. "Oh, you're a fine little specimen, you both are such dears, it would be an honour to have you both on my couch right here, right now."
Demeter and Finnick looked at each other, both donning sickened expressions on their faces. Finnick was willing to go above and beyond for Annie, but Demeter? Why would she even be remotely agreeable to do this? Finnick let out a small sigh. It was all over, his plan had been left in the mud now, he certainly would never force Demeter into something like this."
But it seemed the girl from District Nine was full of surprises. "Alright, fine, I'll do it," she seethed, clenching her fists tightly and shooting Paula a menacing glare.
"Excellent," Paula licked his lips, cocking her eyebrow in delight. "Now, if you two are going to pull any funny stuff on me, I should remind you that I have private security cameras installed in this very room, so don't even think about it."
The thought of their imminent act being recorded for potentially many to see and view as they pleased msde Finnick's stomach lurch, and one look at Demeter told him all he needed to know about how she felt about all of this. This was crazy, inhumane, horrible.
But it would save Annie's life.
"Start stripping, dearies."
Demeter and Finnick tumbled out of the room, their clothes in a mess, hair bedraggled, traumatised expressions on both of their faces. Neither of them spoke until they'd reached the Tribute Centre, both avoided each others' glances, the awkwardness threatening to consume them both.
"So..." Finnick mumbled.
"Uhh, so," Demeter uttered, and for the first time since meeting her, Finnick noticed that her eyes were glossed and blank, devoid of her usual stride and confidence. "That was my first and worst time, with anyone, erm, especially with a Gamemaker and Victor. Zero out of ten, would not recommend." She gave a dry laugh at her own joke, then glanced at Finnick. "It's fine, it's nothing I couldn't handle, don't you dare beat yourself up over it."
Finnick stared down at the ground. "You shouldn't have done that, you know?"
Demeter rolled her eyes. "You're right, but I did to save your girl's life. Now, don't thank me or anything, let's not bring it up again." She gave another dry laugh. "Didn't expect me to be the first Victor you've cannoodled with, right?"
Finnick bit his lip and shook his head. "Actually, that was Cashmere. We were both young, about to get sent into the VPR, and we were threatened if we couldn't, uhm, do well on our first try so we practiced with each other. You know what? Let's not talk about this."
"Agreed," Demeter mumbled as they reached their floor. "Your girl better win, Finnick, or I'm gonna hunt the both of you down myself."
10:
Annie was the Victor of the Hunger Games.
It was done, all over.
Right?
The final battle, if you could call it one, had been a swift and easy win for Annie, who'd practically launched into a frenzied, wild kicking contest with the injured boy from One, who'd drowned after losing out to Annie's deranged, panicked movements. For the next couple of days, Finnick had waited anxiously in his room, unable to eat or sleep despite Mags and Demeter's best efforts. There'd been no news of her, apart from a couple of times Willuna had told him, "The doctors told me she's going to be fine, those buggers won't say much else." The wait was excruciatingly long, every second without her felt like an absolute eternity as he lay on his bed, Mags munching on sugar cubes in the corner of his bed, lost in his own world.
And when Annie did come back, she was nothing more than a mere shadow of herself, stumbling about, unable to stand on her own two feet, flinching and resisting both Nemo and Jolien's efforts to help her to her room, letting out a bloodcurdling scream and nearly lashing out when Poseidon taunted her. She only relaxed when Mags and Finnick came over. Finnick grabbed her by the waist and gently led her to her room, his mind racing at a million miles per second.
This wasn't Annie Cresta, this was somebody else he couldn't recognise.
He sat her down on her bed and locked the door so no one else could interfere with them. Sitting beside Annie, he wordlessly began to braid her unkempt hair. She didn't respond, merely staring ahead with a glossy expression, seemingly unaware that he was even there to begin with. Finnick could feel the bile churning in his throat. She was so far gone, he couldn't quite believe it. But surely, Finnick believed, Annie had to be in there somewhere, the girl he loved had to still be in there somewhere, right?
He leaned over and gave her a light kiss on the cheek. This at last triggered a more positive reaction from her, the tiniest faint of a smile. It was working, so Finnick risked a kiss on the lips. To his surprise, she kissed him back. They sat there, gently kissing each other, and for a moment, Finnick could imagine himself in a bygone time, before Annie had gone into the arena.
"Finny..." she murmured, her voice heartbreakingly fragile and delicate, as if the slightest hiccup could shatter it into a million pieces. "I'm alive, real or not real?" This was a fairly common technique used by trauma survivors in District Four, and he'd heard about it being used with the younger Fisher siblings after they'd won their Games. "Real, Annie, you're alive, and you're safe with me. You're never going to be in danger again, I promise."
Annie's smile widened and Finnick could feel his heart glow brighter than the sun just at the sigh of that. "You love me, real or not real?" Her voice quivered a little and she began to shudder.
Finnick wrapped his arms around her as she jerked ever so slightly and began to whimper softly. "Real, very much real," he said, kissing her soft hair.
"Y-you're a pansy who won't pass the b-ball to me, r-real or not real?" Annie asked, an echo of a laugh bubbling in her voice.
Finnick broke out in a wide grin. The Annie he'd once known was still in there after all, she might not fully recover, but that was alright. She was still Annie Cresta, and Finnick told himself that he was going to try as hard as he could to adapt and live with her as she was there and then.
Because ultimately, this was Annie Cresta, the girl of his dreams. And the fact that she'd been brave enough to make it out of the arena, Finnick loved her even more. The pair laughed quietly as they kissed again.
"I'm glad you're here with us, Annie," Peeta whispered softly. "Hope you're feeling better now."
"Finnick once told me that Annie's a super cool person when she's really herself," Katniss mused. "You know what? I kind of want to have a game of sports or something with her, that version of Annie is apparently bucketloads of fun."
Peeta laughed. "Let's be real, she's a Four, she'd trash both of us sleepwalking."
With that, the pair moved on to the next Victor. Peeta flipped the page and Katniss resisted the urge to roar into laughter. "Speaking of cool tributes, look who it is."
A girl with wide-set brown eyes, shoulder-length brown hair and a rather muscular build, there was only one Victor whose very name would make both Katniss and Peeta chuckle.
"Johanna Mason."
VICTORS
District 1-Sapphire Huntington(4), Onyx Hibonite(9), Franc Montgomery(14), Crystal Montgomery(21), Sterling Jones(25), Luxe Carmichael(36), Geneva Cooper(37), Cartier Cooper(44), Valkyrie Montgomery(54), Gloss Irvine(63), Cashmere Irvine(64), Augustus Braun-Montgomery(67)
District 2-Ragnar Sveinsson(5), Reyna Boudicca(6), Draco Hadley(10), Scipio MacAllister(17), Freya Carson(22), Hercules Nichols(28), Julia Dawson(39), Brutus Gunn(42), Lyme Sveinsson(45), Evan Fortis(55), Enobaria Golding(61)
District 3-Nikola Johnson(13), Gadget Schroeder(24), Beetee Latier(40), Wiress Jansen(47)
District 4-Marina Bluebell(1), Mags Flanagan(11), Jolien Fisher(31), Timmy Fisher(32), Iris Fisher(33), Rafael Fisher(34), Coral Thiller(41), Poseidon Nakamura(58), Nemo Williams(62), Finnick Odair(65), Annie Cresta(70)
District 5-Shocker Crimson(8), Switch Kim(19), Flash Morrison(27), Porter Tripp(38), Marie Meredith(52), Ampere Chang(66)
District 6-Ford Hamilton(20), Kimi Bentley(51), Audi Lando(59)
District 7-Hassan Greenwood(2), Jill Wilson(15), Olive Sanchez(26), Birch Davison(35), Blight Gavin(53), James Silva(60)
District 8-Woof Casino(16), Calico Pepper(48), Cecelia Rheys(56)
District 9-Gwendolyn Whitfield(18), Laurel Flamsteel(29), Miller Thompson(49), Demeter Jarvinen(68)
District 10-Ringo Alvarez(7), John Gatwick(23), Mare Trybull(43), Colt Dias(57)
District 11-Orchid Bloom(12), Seeder Crue(30), Chaff Mitchell(46), Sprout Skhosana(69)
District 12-Axel Millar(3), Haymitch Abernathy(50)
Victors that are underlined are deceased.