I own nothing.
Without a second thought I dive into the pool, the chlorine stinging my eyes as I make my way to the floating body. Grabbing hold I turn the figure over and start to swim to the edge of the pool. I don't make it very far before,
"What the hell?"
Startled a let go and swim back a few feet, getting a better look I realize just who this "drowned body" was.
"What are you doing here Finnick?!" I demand, determined to look at his face, not his chiseled chest or muscular arms. "This area is for Mentors only."
Pushing his hair out of his eyes he merely smirks slightly and shrugs. "I couldn't sleep. Mags let me use her key card. Being in the water relaxes me."
Rolling my eyes I scoff, "Pretending to be drowned is your idea of relaxing?"
"Careful Kitty-Kat, it sounds like you might actually care." He baits me.
Giving him a hard glare I snap, "Don't call me that. Ever."
"What about-"
"No." I cut him off swimming towards the stairs knowing my plans for a quiet swim were done for.
"Kitten it is then." He chuckles.
Whirling around in the water I stare in disbelief at his cheerfully smug face.
"What?" He asks innocently. "I was going to ask if you preferred Kit-Kat, but Kitten was my next choice."
Speechless I started stupidly for another moment. But then I managed to regain my composure and shook my head at his tediousness and turned away once more.
"Poor Mags having to put up with you." I mutter reaching the stairs. "Maybe I should have let you drown."
"Oh trust me Mags is already miffed at me as it is. If I got myself killed before the Games even started I'd never hear the end of it."
"I'm sure her annoyance is warranted. I've been in your presence two minutes and I'm more than miffed." I retort pausing, a hand on the railing.
"We'll this is more for the fact that I wasn't even supposed to volunteer this year."
Surprised I turn and watch as he swims closer.
"Yeah, this year Percy was the one who was expected to enter the Games. We're evenly matched in pretty much all areas of training but it was decided he would volunteer due to the fact I don't-"
"Take orders well?" I finish gifting him with a smirk of my own.
Finnick has the decency to look sheepish as he nods. "I guess it's something we have in common."
I'm about to cut in that he doesn't know anything about me but he continues, "Percy would have done well. We're the same age and he's a great guy but there's just one thing he had going against him." He pauses, a sad yet determined look filling his eyes. "He wouldn't have protected Annie. Not like I plan to."
"You love her." I surmise, a tight uncomfortable feeling twisting around my heart and in my stomach. "That's why you volunteered."
Nodding he explains, "Annie and I grew up two houses down from one another. We stayed friends all through my time at the Academy. There isn't much I wouldn't do for her."
I smile coldly and assure, "The Capital loves a good star-crossed lovers story. Trust me, I'm still living out mine."
At that he looks confused but then clarifies, "I love Annie yes, but I'm not in love with her. We tried dating a year ago but it was weird. So we went back to being friends."
The twisting feeling loosens somewhat when he says that. Confused and slightly unnerved by this realization I turn back and ascend the stairs. As I reach the top Finnick calls out,
"Nice underwear, how'd you know green is my favorite color?"
Looking down I suddenly remember I'm not wearing a bathing suit, but a bra and underwear instead. And they don't even match. The bra is a deep plumb color while the bikini underwear are soft mint green. It's definitely not my sexiest or most revealing pieces but mortification stains my cheeks in a heated blush.
Yet again my feelings surprise me. At 16 I was turned into the Capital's sex symbol, the ideal woman. Smart, deadly, beautiful and full of fire, the whole package they'd said. For years I've done celebrity endorsement campaigns for a company that makes very expensive, very revealing lingerie called Lanoria's Secret. Billboards stories high of me wearing the items that in nearly all the Districts would be thought of as scandalous were everywhere. Hundreds of people saw them every day. And a number of men as well as a few women had seen me in less.
And yet the weight of Finnick's stare wasn't as pressing as the lustful looks I received from countless others. Yes, there was lust in his eyes, coloring his emerald eyes even darker, but there was admiration as well, along with something else I couldn't quite name.
Feeling my blush creep down my neck I quickly turn and hastily grab my clothes before rushing out of the pool room and back to the safety of the elevator.
The next morning dawned bright and sunny as I met with Effie, Haymitch, Koren and Calluna at the breakfast table. Koren leaned over a plate piled high with bacon, sausage, toast and eggs while Calluna picked at a bowl of oatmeal and slices of apple.
"Thanks for joining us Sweetheart." Haymitch barks over his breakfast, a glass that smells alcoholic, but at least it's got orange juice in it too.
"Not everyone can be as joyful as you first thing in the morning." I tell him pouring myself a large mug of coffee and adding four sugars.
Effie cuts off whatever foul mouthed retort he had in store by exclaiming, "Now, now it's not the time for bickering. Today is a big, big day for our Tributes. First day of training, how exciting."She smiles widely.
Koren stops scarfing his food mid-bite and Calluna pauses forming her now cold oatmeal into a mountain in her bowl.
Sighing Haymitch takes a healthy drink before instructing, "Today will be the day all you Tributes will try to feel each other out, try to see who'll be tough to beat, and who will be easy pickings. Don't tip your hands on your talents just yet. Watch, listen and learn. The careers will be eager to show off, like Sweetheart said they've been training for this for years. But don't underestimate the survival stations. The knowledge of how to find food and water could save your life just as easily as knowing how to throw a knife."
Seeing the fear and uncertainty on their faces I try to help, "Districts 11 and 7 are typically more amicable to form an alliance with 12. Haymitch and I are in good standings with their Mentors and can help you try and decide who to trust and who to watch out for."
The pair of them nod, then push back from the table and return to their rooms to dress into their training uniforms. Meanwhile I grab a chocolate chip muffin and eat while getting ready myself. Today is the first day the Tributes start training, but it's also the day Haymitch and I start lining up potential Sponsors. I pick out a white dress with a pattern of dark grey birds on it. The Mockingjay symbol has been outlawed for years, but the images of these avians is just enough ascued that one could claim they could be any type of bird, or simply an imagined species. I decide to pair the dress with white heels and a short black leather blazer with oversized gold buttons on the lapels. I spend the day "visiting friends", many of them my own Sponsors from years ago. My time proves to be fruitful, for by the time I return to the Training Center I have a number of people promising support if either Tribute scores above an 8 in testing.
Happier than I've felt in weeks I return to District 12's floor just before Koren and Calluna. The pair of them are speaking excitedly with Effie, and though she is trying to seem engaged and upbeat, I can tell something is troubling her.
"Training is actually kinda fun." Koren admitted sitting down on the couch with a tired yet satisfied thump. "The Careers from 1,2, and 3 were kinda scary, but Finnick and Annie were both really cool and nice."
"Finnick?!" I parrot, concerned about what he might reveal about our interaction last night.
But Koren just continued on saying, "Yeah he showed me how to use a Trident. I just watched but it was so amazing watching him practice with it, like it was an extension of his body."
From her own seat on the giant couch Calluna chimed in, more animated then I'd ever seen,"And Annie showed me how to make lures and tie knots. Finnick tried to come over and give me extra pointers but-"
"She got so flustered she managed to tie her hands together." Koren laughed, his fellow Tribute blushing so hard she nearly turned purple.
"Just remember, these kids aren't your friends, they're your competition." Haymitch warned sitting down on the opposite side of the couch.
Speaking up I add, "An alliance with 4 wouldn't be a bad thing. What about 11 and 7 though?"
"Silica from 11 seems interesting. She was using some weapon called a sickle. District 7 seemed more interested in trying to set things on fire." Calluna reported, her coloring finally returning to normal.
Biting my lip I sigh through my nose as I process this information. I also wonder if Blight and Johanna know about the Pyro obsession of their Tributes. If they did, chances were Johanna would likely love to use one of them to burn down the President's Mansion during the Victory Tour should they win.
The pair then ask if they can leave to check out more of what the Capital has to offer. Effie informs them they aren't permitted to leave the Training Center. At seeing their disappointed Haymitch suggests ordering a ton of room service and binge watching trashy Capital TV. He suggests starting with a popular dating show he knows Effie loves.
As Koren and Calluna eagerly depart to their rooms to change Effie takes me by the arm, "Katniss dear," she whispers urgently, "I must speak to you at once. Privately." She looks towards the rooms where our Tributes had me to my room she closes the door and locks it for good measure.
"What's going on Effie?" I ask, uncertainty making my skin crawl.
Taking a deep breath Effie tries to fight back tears as she says, "Ambrose Wilkin has requested to see you."
My mouth opens in shock as the words sink in. Ambrose is one of my regular "clients". He's a narcissistic bigot who enjoys the jealous looks he receives when I'm seen on his arm. He also likes to think that he's the only one able to "tame my fire". When I began to be sold and passed around like property Snow had assured me that during the Hunger Games season, my main priority would be my Tributes and the Games. No clients, no "appointments".
Reading my thoughts Effie sobbed, "I tried to tell him you were unavailable, just as you've been every year at this time but he was insistent. He said he had been granted permission from President Snow himself. He threatened me, you and your sister. Oh Katniss, I'm so, so sorry. If I'd have known this was the life in store for you after the Games..."
Reaching out I embrace her tightly. I shush her tears as rage causes my hands to shake. How dare that bastard threaten people I care about. Just because he was rich and knew powerful people he thought he was above retribution. But I knew powerful people as well now, and one day soon that slimy pig would get what he deserves. But for now I have my pride to swallow once more as I shoo Effie out of my room so that I can prepare for my meeting with Ambrose.
It's well past midnight when I return to the Training Center. My head is held high and my back straight as a post, but inside I'm a boiling mess of emotions.
It seems Ambrose had seen my interview with Caesar the night before and hadn't liked being told he couldn't compare to "a pathetic mongrel from the scummy coal pit that was District 12." Apparently Ambrose's fragile self esteem took a major hit at being unfavorably measured to a dead 14 year old boy.
Knowing Effie, and likely Haymitch were waiting up for me, I hit the button for the rooftop, not wanting to see anyone right now.
As the elevator rose I caught sight of my split lip and slight swelling on my right cheek in the glass' reflection. I manage a small, painful smirk. As soon as Effie sees the damage she is bound by her job as Escort to report the incident to Snow. While they are able to purchase us, clients are forbidden from leaving marks on Victors, especially where they can be publicly seen. Ambrose will likely face the full wrath of President Snow fairly shortly.
As the doors open I step out into the cool night. Walking to the railing I look down on the glittering city below. Due to a past Tribute trying to jump from up here a force-field surrounds the rooftop garden. Feeling my anger begin to boil over I remove my silver heels and throw them at the edge of the building. They hit the barrier and bounce back, but not before one of the shoe's heels snap off. Seeing the broken pieces a small victory feels won, and I want more.
Picking up one of the chairs placed about I heft it into the force-field as well. The furniture hits the fence with a satisfying electrical snap. Emboldened I let out a wordless cry of anger and frustration.
"The furniture choices aren't what I'd go with either but does that really warrant late night demolition?"
Spinning I spy Finnick leaning against the open elevator doors, his trademark smirk in place.
"Go away Finnick. I'm not in the mood." I snap running a hand angrily through my hair that had once been perfectly styled in loose curls, but was now tangled and knotted.
Eyes zeroing in on my face his smirk quickly disappears and is replaced by a hard frown. His eyes narrow as he gets closer and he slowly reaches out to touch my split lip, but holds back at the last second. As if he's concerned about scaring me.
"Who." He demands, his voice low and hard.
"No one you'd be able to take on." I tell him honestly, wrapping my arms around myself. Its windy on the rooftop and my dress is made of crinkled chiffon and is strapless with a sweetheart neckline and has a lace hemline. When Cinna had first shown me the dress I had loved the green color that reminded me of sea glass. But now I never wanted to wear this garment again.
Sighing he lowers his hand but I notice he has both hands clenched into fists so tight his knuckles are turning white.
Angrily he mutters, "Fame and glory is what the Capital sells to Victors. I bet more people would be even more disgusted with the Games if they knew the truth."
Started I feel the blood drain from my face. "What did you say?" I croak.
Looking down at me he sighs and says, "It's a well known secret in the upper Districts that Victors become very desired by those in the Capital. But few know that they actually become prostitutes for the extremely wealthy. Details like that hurt the image the Capital likes to portray of their Games and Victors. The further down the Districts you go the less public knowledge there is of what actually being a Victor means. The Capital's censorship ensures that."
I feel like I'm going to be sick. This whole time I've felt dirty and degraded for going along with Snow's schemes on using me to keep others in line and entertained, and yet when Gloss, Cashmere, Brutus, Enobaria and all the others volunteered, they had at least an idea of what was in store. Many of the other Victors after the first few years had fewer and fewer "admirers" but I for some reason had held the Capital's interest.
"Don't." Finnick urges, breaking through my swirling thoughts fueled with anger and mistrust.
"Don't what?" I demand.
"Hate them." He replies gently. "Most of them were raised to think it was their honor, their duty to serve the Capital. I'm sure they don't feel the same anymore though. Even the Escorts no longer truly see the Games the same after a Reaping or two."
I know he's making sense. I know from experience that Effie has begun to dread the Games and everything that goes with it. But still it feels like all of Panem has been having a great big laugh at my expense for allowing me to believe that I was singled out for this humiliation. That when Snow threatened my family it was simply for the stunt Peeta and I had tried to pull with the berries.
Rounding on Finnick I demand, "How do you know so much?"
"Mags practically raised me." He shrugs. "She wasn't a fan of censoring anything that had to do with the Games. When I was 16 she sat me down and explained exactly what would happened should I win one year. That was not a fun discussion. My looks have always made me popular with women. It wasn't until then that I realized how much of a curse they could be."
"And yet you volunteered anyway." I sneer, feeling malicious and vindictive. "Have you thought of what will happen if you win? Or what if you succeed in your mission to protect Annie and she wins? Who will protect her when your gone?"
His eyes flash brightly with anger at my mockery but he manages to gain control and answers, "Honestly I was hoping you and Mags." He must have read the disbelief on my face because he added, "Annie isn't strong. She's kind and compassionate and I know these Games will ruin her if she survives. But then to be forced to-" His jaw clinches and unclintches, "It would destroy her completely."
I feel my heart softening at his plight but I ask, "Why me?"
He smiles slightly, "Because I know if anyone could beat the Capital at their own game it'd be you. I was 9 years old when you won but I still remember that look in your eyes, that fire that endeared you to everyone who saw you. You still have that fire."
"Most days I wonder if I really do or if it's just something people say. A trademark to piece with a persona, a character. I often wonder who I am anymore."
Any hesitation Finnick had shown before about touching me vanished as he placed his large hands on my arms and squeezed lightly yet certainly, "Your Katniss Everdeen from District 12. The girl who put her life on the line for the love of her sister, who risked her life for a boy she barely knew. You are the Girl on Fire, the Mockingjay."
The heat from his hands is comforting, but I'm slowly starting to realize just how close we're standing to one another, and his thumbs have begun to rub lazy circles on my arms.
Clearing my throat I step back awkwardly and say, "It's always nice to meet a fan." Disappointment flicks across his face, but it disappears so quickly I think I must have imagined it. Searching for something to say I ask, "What are you doing up here anyway?"
"My room faces over the front of the building." He shrugs noncommittaly. "I saw you enter in the middle of the night, and was concerned. Then when I saw the elevator going to the roof I figured you could use someone to talk to. Or yell at."
"Thank you Finnick, truly." I express genuinely.
He shrugs once more and smirks. "Despite the animal you had to deal with, you look beautiful in that dress. It's just a shame it had to be wasted on him." He lightly fingers the thin fabric, and shivers run through me that likely have little to do with the coolness of the night air. "We keep bumping into each other with you wearing my favorite color. Are you trying to tell me something Kitten? Because if its what I'm-"
"Goodnight Finnick." I cut him off hurrying towards the elevator. Pushing the button the door automatically opens, turning I catch sight of him watching me, the same un-nameable look in his eyes as the doors close.
The next morning I don't wake up until late. It's nearly noon by the time I drag myself out of bed in search of food.
"You got back late Sweetheart." Haymitch greets. For the first time in awhile I see he isn't nursing a glass.
"I didn't want the third degree after having to deal with Ambrose so I went up to the roof to blow off steam." I explain grabbing a pear from a fruit basket set out.
"Alone?" He questions.
Figuring he already knows the answer I wonder if he expects me to try to lie. But instead I reply, "No. I was with Finnick."
"Damn it why would you do something so reckless?!" He shouts.
"How is it reckless?" I demand, "He poses no danger to me, I'm not a Tribute."
"He was probably trying to make nice to learn about weaknesses." He waves off.
"We didn't talk about Koren, Calluna or the Games." I forcefully assure.
"Then what did you talk about?" He asks. But then a look of horror crosses his face and placing his hands over his ears, cries, "Nevermind! I don't want to know."
Rolling my eyes I scoff, "Haymitch he's 18. Not to mention he's entering the Arena in a few days."
"Exactly." He points out. "He's going to be going up against our Tributes, and even if they form an alliance, eventually they'll have to turn on each other. Our duty is to Koren and Calluna. Let Mags worry about Finnick."
I sit at the table and eat my pear without really tasting it. I was too lost in thought trying to figure out what he was really trying to warn me about when it came to Finnick.
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