I don't see Annie that day. Instead, on my way out, I run into President Snow. This isn't abnormal during the Games, as he spends a decent amount of time here, by the large screens, watching the games. Here, where he can call on any victor or gamemaker at any time to do his bidding. When he sees me, he gestures me to come sit with him.

Of course, I do. I don't exactly have a choice.

He is sitting at a table in a large room, and when I join him, the room quickly empties, leaving the two of us alone.

"Remember what I told you that day, Finnick. That day that you swore you would do what ever I said."

I nod slowly. It's true, of course. I had to. I had no choice.

"Well, you have done a wonderful job of keeping up your side of the bargain." His voice is cold, telling me that there is something else,"But, Finnick, I wanted someone the Capitol would look upon and love. You played your part well the first few games. But this year, there has been a difference. You are no longer yourself."

I cringe inwardly. I expected this, but not this soon. He expects me to be happy, flirtatious, as though I desire to do what he forces me into. And I have done my best to wear the mask he has placed upon me. But it is not who I am. It is difficult to play the role of someone you are not, when everyone you care about, save one, hates you for it.

Snow's snakelike eyes glare at me, waiting for an answer.

I lower my head. "I will do better. I will play the role."

Snow chuckles," No, Finnick, you will not play the role. You will become the role. Or, do you not love that poor, mad girl...as much as I thought?"

My heart stops. Literally stops. Because I have known all along that Annie's life could be on the line if I fail, but he has never personally threatened me with it.

"I will," is all I can choke out. I breath slowly for a moment," I will not fail. Please...please don't hurt her. I beg you. Please." I am on the verge of tears, the verge of drowning yet again. But I must be strong here, now. To be weak in front of Snow is to be nothing.

He nods, "I know you will. I expected nothing less."

He stands up, and walks past me, stopping just beside me. Then he leans down, his breathe warming the tip of my ear.

"Just remember, Finnick. Remember how helpless you are. Remember who you are."

Then he is gone.

I know who I am. I am Finnick Odair. The sex symbol of the Capitol. Known all around Panem for being flirtatious, and holding the so called record for going through many people in one trip. I am not the lover of Annie. I am not a broken boy from District Four. But most importantly, what Snow wants to remind me of, is that I am not a victor. I am not victorious. In fact, I am more lost now than I ever was before.

Snow is the only victor. Not me.

I turn from the room, leaving this moment behind me, but carrying it in my heart. I know now that I cannot be the broken boy that I have been on this trip. If I do so, Annie will die. Or worse.

I have to be who President Snow tells me to be. The role that I have played for years, and then dropped when going back home. The role that I have not played this time around. This is the role that I must play. That I must become.

I hear a shuffling of feet around the corner, and look up to see Cashmere. A District One victor. I put on a bright smile, and wink at her. She gives me a seductive smile, and wraps her arm around mine.

"We were just talking about you. In the Victor's Lounge. Something seemed wrong with you this year. I guess we were wrong."

She laughs then, and I laugh with her. I have become quite adapt at the art of fake laughter, fake happiness.

She leads me to a room full of Victors, who smile when they see me. Slap me on the back. There are only a few tributes left in the Games, so they are here, enjoying what time they have left in the Capitol. I have not entered the lounge this trip, but I was always a favorite in past years.

Especially that year. The first year.

I was only sixteen at the time. My first year as a Mentor. Mags stood beside me while I entered the lounge for the first time as a mentor. I almost wished that I could hold her hand. I still felt like a boy.

The victors shouted out cries when I entered, and I was surrounded by a large group of them, congratulating me on my first year as a mentor. We have always been a tight group, us victors.

There was Brutus, the strong, muscular victor from 2. He slapped me on the back, and called for another round of drinks. I don't drink. Never have. I have seen what it has done to too many of the victors.

Then Cashmere and Gloss, the brother and sister team who won in consecutive years. They are very close, and both love the Capitol. They would spend all year here, if they could. Cashmere struck me as quite beautiful, but nothing compared to Annie.

Enobaria, another victor from 2, with her teeth all pointed at the ends, to represent how she won her games. I steer clear of her.

Haymitch, the only living victor from 12, stumbled towards me, and stuck out his hand in a greeting. His tributes are pretty much already dead. I take his hand, but don't stay around to talk.

I look around then, and find that Mags is no longer with me, but standing in a circle of victors, laughing and talking.

Two District Eleven Victors find me then, Chaff and Seeder. They lead me to a table near the edge of the Lounge, where there are less people. They must have noticed how uncomfortable I felt.

"So," Chaff asked," How is your first year of torture going?

Seeder glares at him, and I realize that he, like Haymitch, seems to be drunk. I wonder if they do it because it keeps them from living in this horrible reality. I wonder if it really is so bad.

But it is. Of course it is. Alcohol makes people do stupid things.

Seeder touches my arm gently, and I think that I could like her. She asks me about Annie, and I realize that she knows, somehow. I don't tell her anything, of course.

It is far too dangerous.

I left after a while, and went back to the District Twelve apartments. Annie is probably in her room, and because of surveillance, I can not go and see her. Instead, I go to my own room, order supper, and fall asleep on the bed.

Those nightmares were the worst I have ever had.

I shake my head to clear it of the memories and turn back to Cashmere, who is staring at me quizzically.

"Or maybe they were onto something," she says," You are acting different."

I laugh it off," Sorry, I was just thinking. I wrap my arm around her waist to reassure her that everything is alright. She gives me a small smile, and then leaves to find her brother, Gloss. I don't think she can stand being away from him for long.

I feel a hand on my arm, and look up into the worried eyes of Johanna Mason. She won the games three years ago. The 71st Hunger Games. It took awhile, but we have become very good friends. I trust her more than I trust anyone here. She understands me better than the rest of them.

We sit down at the same table I sat at with Chaff and Seeder that first Games. Quietly, so no one else can hear, I tell her what happened. I wouldn't tell anyone else, but as I said, I trust her.

She nods when I am done, and places her hand on top of mine.

"I'm so sorry, Finnick."

I have tears in my eyes now, and she noticed them.

"Be strong."

I nod, and her demeanor changes instantly.

"C'mon, blockhead, don't just sit there. Let's go find something to do."

I smile at her, and this time, it is a genuine smile. Johanna whole family was killed by Snow, and she has no one left. But her strength, through it all, has helped me on so many occasions. I wink at her, and we are about to leave, when Haymitch chooses that moment to appear and join our table.

He is sober. That is the only reason that I don't get up and leave anyway. If Haymitch is sober, he has something important to say. Besides, something must have changed in him. Both his tributes are still alive.

"Listen you two, and listen quick. I don't know when I will get another opportunity to say this. Have you heard what happened?"

I shake my head. I have not followed the Games since a few days before, at the feast. I have only heard that Katniss and Peeta are still in it.

"The Games are over."

I stare at him blankly, as does Johanna.

"Who won?"

Haymitch gives me a quick run down. How the mutts attacked, how Katniss killed Cato in a mercy killing, how the Gamemakers decided to change the rules allowing for two victors. How Katniss held out those berries.

At that moment, I rest my head in my hands. Her family is probably already dead.

"She did not know what she was doing." Haymitch says.

I roll my eyes, "Well, obviously. But I don't understand what this has to do with us."

Haymitch takes a deep breath. "It doesn't, not officially. I was walking back to my room, when I passed the gamemakers chambers. I heard President Snow talking to the new head gamemaker. Plutarch. They have already executed Seneca Crane."

I nod. That is to be expected.

Haymitch closes his eyes. Then opens them," The President told Plutarch that next year's Quarter Quell is going to be of special magnificence. He said that he has already changed the Quell card."

My eyes widen, "but that is impossible, they were written years ago."

Haymitch nods.

I begin to shake,"What did it say, Haymitch?"

He is silent.

"What did it say," Johanne repeats.

When Haymitch speaks, I close my eyes. "For the 75th annual Hunger Games, the tributes are to be reaped from the existing pool of victors."

It takes a moment for this to sink in. But when it does, my heart stops for the second time that day.

I am going back into the arena.