I had never been in such luxurious surroundings.

My bedroom on board the train currently speeding towards the Capitol was the most luxurious item I had ever seen. It was a glorious four-poster bed, the duvet a rich ocean blue, a nod to the heritage of the bedroom's occupant. At least, I presumed it to be so – and it was a sweet gem of a thought in this current incredible situation. I fingered the rich fabric of the coverlet. Oh, what my mother would have done for such exquisite material and colours…I felt a sob threaten to spill my throat.

"So, is it 'Ee-yann-ee-ah' or pronounced 'Uh-yann-yah'…," I heard a voice drawl casually behind me, his words flowing slowly like honey dripping from a spoon. The voice that could make panties drop and secrets tumble out of the lips of the most powerful Capitol residents. Mr Finnick Odair.

"I prefer Annie," I raised my chin and looked him straight in the eye. He smiled, the pearly whites making their presence known. He held out a hand to me which I shook strongly.

"It's great to have you on board, literally," he chuckled, before smoothly pulling me into an embrace from the handshake. His whisper startled me out of my sad thoughts.

"I wish it could get easier over time. It does, but the presence of people helps. Wine does a pretty good job of dulling those thoughts too." He pulled away, the lightness in his eyes growing infinitely heavier – but only for a split second – before that smirky grin graced his face once more. My hand was still in his, and he pulled me towards the dining carriage where the others were sitting.

"And that, my son, is steak," Carlen watches Tallen as he finishes chewing the last of the meat. He swallows it down before settling into his seat with a grim expression. "So, what is the verdict?" Moments pass as Tallen seems to ponder his response, before suddenly his expression changes and he speeds out of the room.

"Oh dear," Carlen mutters "It was such a fine cut of beef too." I diplomatically manage a small smile. Years of being an outsider have taught me a great deal about civility.

"Tallen has probably lived on a diet of fish and vegetables to date," I explained. "His parents managed a grocery shop in town. The beef must have been too rich for him." Carlen seems to accept my response before taking a bottle of wine in his hand and pouring three glasses.

"Sit, dear," his voice is not condescending. In fact, it is almost paternal. "Let us get to know the real Annie Cresta." I laugh nervously as I take a seat, this increases as I notice Carlen moves one of the glasses to beside where my hand rests on the table. I am underage by anyone's standards, just a few days of shy of my 16th birthday. It then dawns on me that my 16th birthday is in two days time. I am going to turn 16 and will never have even kissed a boy, let alone gone as far with a man as Vivera has. In fact, the greatest 'action' that I am going to get in my lifetime, however short it is doomed to be, is get killed. Wordlessly, Finnick slides the glass of wine into my now-open hand as the words he previously uttered ring true in my mind.

"She is an outcast, surviving on the fringes of high school life," I tell him, tonelessly. "Annie Cresta, however, is a dab hand at shearing sheep, gutting fish, growing vegetables and swimming." Finnick snorts but Carlen doesn't see the humour in it.

"Annie, dear, someone from District Four saying that they're a good swimmer is like someone from the Capitol saying that they're always keeping up to date with the new fashions," his multicoloured eyelashes flutter slightly as he rolls his eyes. "And gutting fish is hardly going to win you any sponsors." I hesitate slightly. There is something that no one outside of my family knows. A voice whispers in my mind, "These people are your family now".

"I mean it," I take a deep sigh before continuing. "Swimming is second nature to everyone in District Four, I agree. I am not aware if you knew, but I grew up in a lake, just a little way away from town. There wasn't much in the way of entertainment. Anyway, my father used to make us all swim around the island each morning, straight after we woke up. Two times, five times and then ten times around the island before breakfast. When we acted out of line we were punished by having to tread water for hours on end in our heaviest coats. In fact, sometimes, Father used to pick us up after school on the mainland, taking all our books into the boat, and have us swim back in our clothes."

Both Finnick and Carlen are stunned into silence. My father's methods were definitely unorthodox – but they were also fruitful. In punishing us, my father strengthened my brothers and I physically, as well as mentally. Carlen takes a slow sip of wine before looking at me intently, his eyes with a glimmer.

"My parents just had a naughty step for me," he jokes. "But trust me, that marble was hard on my little boy bottom." His gaze turns steely. "Thank you for sharing that information with me Annie. I already have some ideas percolating." He finishes the glass one and arises from the chair with a 'swish' of his bright cape.

"Don't share any juicy gossip while I am out of the room," he winks at both Finnick and I before departing the room in a manner which, although completely exaggerated, is something I feel Carlen has constructed in order to hide his true self. I turn to Finnick to question him.

"If you were going to ask me if Carlen is homosexual, save your breath," Finnick takes a sip of his wine. "I don't know for certain and I don't care. What I do know, however, is that he is trustworthy. We are very fortunate to have him." I shake my head in annoyance.

"No, that wasn't it," I raise my hand to illustrate my point. "You may think I'm some country bumpkin, and maybe I am, but I don't let a person's sexuality taint my opinion of them as a person." I took a deep breath. "Carlen…he's genuine, isn't he? Beneath all that flair, I can feel an authenticity. He uses it as a cover." Finnick's eyebrows raise.

"Ding ding ding, we have a wise one this year." He tips a wine glass to me and I recognise the action. The time is long past for it, but then again, we follow different rules now.

"Cheers to your success, Annie Cresta."

I tip my glass to his.