Updated as of July 9th, 2022.
Hello! Welcome to Chapter 20, everyone!
ONTO THE STORY!
Disclaimer: Nope. Don't own The Hunger Games. Even after all these years. Laurel's mine, though.
FLASHBACK TO THE LAST CHAPTER
Looking down the long row of tributes, I couldn't help but feel like it was off. I was on the very end, with the pattern going girl boy all the way down the line. Wasn't it usually boy girl? I turned to look at the stylists, meeting Portia and Cinna's eyes with confusion. Portia pursed her lips appearing apologetic, but for what?
...What was going on?
Caesar Flickerman bounded to the front and center of the stage, flinging his arms wide before taking a deep bow. The Capitolites cheered him on. This year the interview personality was bathed in hues of blue, from his hair, to his lips, to his eyelids. His ceremonial suit hadn't changed at all over the years. Electric bulbs were stitched into the fabric, glowing brightly against the dark color of the jacket. Caesar kicked the night off with several jokes, easing the crowd and the tributes into the program effortlessly. I reassured myself that he would try to make it seem like I knew what I was doing. Perhaps he would be my saving grace tonight.
"Laurel Dainton, you're up."
My thoughts stuttered to a halt and my gaze leveled on the cue woman. Maybe I had heard that wrong, right? At my lack of movement the woman narrowed her eyes, impatience coloring her features. She waited until she realized I wasn't moving before nodding her head towards where Caesar had sat down, sharing one more joke with the audience to stall for time. I just couldn't understand. I was supposed to go last. District 12 always went last. For decades we've went last. Standing, I cleared my face of emotion and moved toward the interview chairs, my legs numb.
I put my focus on making sure I didn't stumble in my heels to distract myself from my growing nervousness. However, I was so concentrated on walking correctly that I almost forgot to shake Caesar's hand. Smiling tightly, I fitted my hand in his own, my stomach already sinking at my idiocy. He gave me a reassuring squeeze before letting go, motioning for me to take a seat. And so the interview began.
"So, Laurel, the Capitol must be quite a change from District Twelve. What's impressed you most since you've arrived here?" He asked, sitting back in his chair.
"The showers," I found myself saying without hesitation, my face flushing at my quickness. Caesar laughed, and somehow he managed to get the audience to laugh with him.
"It's the buttons, isn't it?" He asked conspiratorially with a smile. "All these years and I still haven't figured out the darn things. Even this morning I had trouble just picking the water pressure out," he said, sighing in exasperation and earning a small smile out of me. The blue-themed man was a lot easier to talk to than I thought he would.
"The first time the soap came out I thought I was going to have a heart attack," I admitted, feeling my fingers curl into my dress. The audience laughed harder at that, a big laugh. It sounded genuine. Hard to find anything genuine around here...
"Now, Laurel, let's talk about your outfits. When you rode in during the opening ceremonies, my heart stopped. Then you joined hands with Mr. Grimmins and thought I was going to keel over right then and there. You have to tell us what was going through your head during all that," he said, leaning forward. I blinked, thinking back to the Parade and the fire. My eyes found Portia's and Cinna's, and Portia nodded. Be honest, her eyes seemed to say.
"I was...Well, I was overwhelmed. I've never felt like more eyes were watching me in my life. But...at the same time, I felt invigorated," I said, meeting his gaze with another small smile. "The costume was perfect, and I can't thank my stylist enough for making it the most brilliant one I've ever seen."
"And what about your dress tonight? I think it looks stunning," he implored, turning to the audience. "What do you all think?"
The crowd erupted into oohs and aahs and I looked to Portia once more. She motioned me to stand, mouthing, "This is your chance."
"Would you all like a better look at it?" I asked, my stomach fluttering. Caesar grinned.
"Please, show us everything," he said. I tried to ignore the uncomfortable chills the tone of his voice wrought, blaming it on my own willingness to look too deeply into things. Now was not the time. So, I took a steadying breath and pushed the thoughts aside. Standing up, I smoothed the skirt of the dress down. Stepping away from the chairs, I hit the hidden button as discreetly as possible, unsure of what Portia had done.
The reaction was immediate. The once subdued, smoky look of the dress morphed into a slow burning flame that started at my feet and crawled its way up, the white tongues tipped in blue. I held my arms down by my sides, fear worming its way into my heart. I jerked my head towards Portia and Cinna and they reassured me with their smiles, so I swallowed hard and held my breath, waiting for what would happen next. As soon as the fire had reached the fake sleeves on my arms, it devoured them, racing up my body and changing the dress. Portia touched the top of her head and I mimicked her, touching my crown. The audience gasped and stared, enraptured by the display. My eyes darted up to look at the large screens I hadn't bothered to notice before. On those screens, I got to see what the entirety of Panem was seeing.
The metal of my crown burned a blinding white, sticking out against the dark waves of my hair. The lower half of my dress glowed a glittering white as well, stopping at the indent of my waist as the fire raged against my chest and fake sleeves. The light of the fire flickered in my eyes, and I looked downright terrifying, like an angel descending into flames. A grin spread on my lips. I looked ready to bring everyone else down with me.
My hand brushed against my hip and all at once the fire disappeared, a cooling jolt going through my body. There was a beat of silence before the crowd erupted into applause. Caesar's hand cupped my elbow and drew my attention to him.
"That was amazing, Laurel!" He praised, and I couldn't help the way my face flushed.
"Yeah, it kinda was, wasn't it?" I said without thinking, a small laugh bubbling out as I touched my crown.
I curtsied to the crowd and sat back down in my interview chair, Caesar following suit. I crossed my legs, attempting to bring my heart rate down as I watched the fabric fade back to its original, smoky black. Caesar smiled kindly, allowing everyone a moment to get a grip before launching back into Interview Mode.
"So, how about that training score? I can't say I was the only one surprised by that. Can you give us a hint of what happened in there?" He asked, and I felt the atmosphere change. The anger that the memory produced had my jaw clenching, but I tried to hide it. Caesar raised an eyebrow, making me realize I had yet to answer.
"I made it risky," I decided on saying. Then, with a shrug, "I guess they liked it."
"You're killing us here! Details, details!" He said, actually sounding like he was in pain. I laughed, surprising even myself.
"I'm sorry, but I don't think I'm supposed to talk about that," I said regretfully, watching as Caesar deflated.
"Fine. Let's go back then, to the moment you volunteered at the Reaping. It's public record now that the girl wasn't your sister. What made you want to take her place?" He asked, and the mood shifted once again. My mouth dried up and I didn't know what to say. Everything I came up with sounded wrong in my head. My skin grew cold as the seconds ticked on, and I had to find Portia again. She was biting her lip, but I knew what she'd want me to do.
"I didn't want to watch someone so innocent die-" I started, stopping myself from finishing the sentence out loud. Like an animal on TV. "She didn't deserve that. Her family didn't deserve that. I knew that if I didn't step up, her sister would, and I couldn't lose her either. She was my best friend, you see." I knew I was saying more than I wanted to, but I couldn't help myself.
The silence was deafening.
"What about your family? What did they think?" Caesar prodded gently, and suddenly I remember my father hitting Luke and me tackling him in return. I bit my lip.
"My father couldn't understand. He didn't know how much I owed Katniss and Prim," I said, my voice losing power. The audience appeared as though they were collectively leaning forward, waiting for my next words in rapt attention.
"What did you tell him?"
My jaw clenched.
"Well, Caesar, I said that I was my father's daughter. And I wouldn't give up without a fight."
"I bet you did," he responded, standing once more as a buzzer went off. I did so as well.
"Sadly, we're out of time folks. Best of luck to you, Laurel Dainton, tribute from District Twelve," Caesar said, shaking my hand one more time before I headed back to my seat.
Cato's icy gaze was stuck to mine from his spot in the lineup. At first I thought he was angry, but that wasn't it. His eyebrows weren't tilted down far enough and his jaw wasn't clenched tightly enough. I looked away.
Right as I sat down Emery got called up. I was too focused on my thoughts to notice right when they kicked off his interview. The audience didn't seem to know how to handle him at first, but as soon as he let a half-smile curl his lip the ladies went crazy. They were like putty in his hands for the rest of his interview. I jerked back to reality just as Caesar asked him what his motivation was.
"Is there any sweetheart of yours back home? Or are you more of a family man?" Caesar mused, missing the tick in Emery's jaw when he said the word family. Emery averted his gaze, but that was one thing the blue-hued man couldn't miss.
"Come on, what's her name?" He grinned, sitting forward. Emery frowned, his face becoming more closed off as the seconds passed by.
"It isn't as simple as you're making it be," Emery spat, but Caesar didn't even flinch.
"Then explain." The grin somehow became bigger. Emery glared, earning a few cat calls from the ladies in the audience, before he ran a hand through his hair, messing up its perfect styling. I watched his face on the giant screen carefully.
"She..." He started, and it was like he knew he had the audience hanging off of his every word. "She was my best friend when we were little. And I did something that...ruined that. Something I've never forgiven myself for. And I know she'll never forgive me, but I...I can't let her go."
Goosebumps broke out all over my skin and the tips of my ears burned.
"Here's what you do, Emery. You win, you go hom-"
"No!" He snapped, causing Caesar to jump at him in surprise. "I already told you it isn't as simple as that."
Caesar looked legitimately taken aback by Emery's forcefulness. That is, until a knowing smile began to spread on his face.
"Why is that? Is it because..." The blue-themed man slowly turned to look at where I was sitting, the cameras following his line of sight. Emery looked up at the screens, his body tensing. I would appreciate it if tomorrow you tried harder at making your lies convincing. My eyes narrowed as I stared Caesar down, but that only seemed to fuel his smile, turning it into a full-fledged grin.
"That is a real piece of bad luck, Emery," he sighed, shaking his head as he turned back to the boy. The audience cried out, acting as though they could really feel for Emery and his doomed fate. My fingers dug into my dress and I looked away, trying to collect myself and keep my feelings off of my face.
"Don't try and give me your pity, Caesar. I don't need it," Emery said, and my eyes were drawn back to his form. His hands were curled into fists and he was sitting ramrod straight in his seat, like he was ready to fight at a moment's notice. If looks could kill...
"Of course you don't. Wouldn't you all love to get Laurel back out here to see what she thinks about this?" Caesar asked, turning to the crowd. The crowd exploded into a chorus of yeses, causing me to stiffen. "Sadly, rules are rules, and Laurel's time is over." A roar of disappointment prompted Caesar to stand up and wave it away. He reached his hand out to Emery, saying, "Well, best of luck, Emery Grimmins. I think I speak for all of Panem when I say our hearts go with yours."
Emery sneered, ignoring the outstretched hand and the calls of the audience as he stormed back to his seat. Sadly, the crowd only proceeded to scream louder, the opposite of what either of us wanted.
The tall District 11 girl, Audra Mills, was called up next, but the cameras had a hard time focusing on her. Emery and I had effectively stolen the show, and I couldn't even look in his direction. Part of me was convinced he had only been playing with the crowd when he said what he did, that he was making it up to get sympathy sponsors, but another part wanted to deny it. Emery had never been able to lie very well under pressure, and his acting skills were less than stellar. But now he publicly made a statement that connected him to me, that made it seem like I was someone he would protect. Poor, young love. Arguably the best angle to take when you want money from people to try and not die in a game of death. But not one I supported. Not when I knew he didn't mean any of it.
By the time I was paying attention again, Jaxon was just walking off stage with tears in his eyes, the audience's hearts in shambles from whatever he said. I pursed my lips. Poor kid. The next two districts didn't offer much in terms of entertainment to the crowd, which killed whatever energy that had been going. Merida, in her flowing, sea foam green dress, played the sweet girl image to almost sickly levels, but the Capitolites loved it, eating it up. However, as her interview wore on, an almost anxious energy could be felt in the air, and it was pretty obvious as to why. I glanced down the row of tributes, meeting the reason's gaze evenly.
"You truly are a remarkable young woman, Merida Kriegal of District Four. Everybody give her a big hand!" Caesar called out after the buzzer went off, and the audience immediately started clapping. Merida curtsied and practically skipped to her seat, smiling towards me and catching me off-guard. Finnick whispered something to her before his own name was announced and he got up, the energy in the area rising.
All he had to do was raise his hand and wave at them and they were screaming louder than I'd heard all night.
Caesar reached out to shake Finnick's hand only to be pulled into a hug by the bronze-haired boy, earning more cheers from the crowd. He was a natural at playing the act, always so in control of himself. I smoothed my hand over my dress, ignoring the envy that unfurled in my breast and pretending it didn't exist.
The District 4 boy bantered back and forth with Caesar easily, getting laughs the whole way through. At one point he recounted a story of how he got tangled in his own fishing net and still managed to catch several fish out of the deal.
"Ah, so you're handy with tridents, then? Is that how you scored that ten in your session with the Gamemakers?" Caesar questioned, smirking in amusement. Finnick laughed, and you could practically hear all the women watching sigh.
"Now, now, Caesar. I can't go revealing all of my secrets just yet," Finnick admonished. "However, I can say that's not the only thing I'm handy with." With that, he turned to the crowd and winked. He freaking winked. And judging from the ripples occurring throughout the throng of bodies, he had also just caused several people to faint.
"Now, now, Finnick, this is a family program," Caesar chuckled, "Keep it clean."
Finnick defended himself, explaining how he'd meant other such tools that help when fishing, but everyone knew what he'd really meant, especially due to the shit-eating grin currently plastered on his face.
"Alright. Let's move on to the question that I'm certain everyone is dying to hear the answer to," Caesar said, pausing slightly for dramatic effect. Finnick cocked an eyebrow.
"I'm all ears."
"An attractive young man like you, you can't not have a lucky lady in your life, right, Mr. Odair?" Caesar asked, resting his chin on his hand in anticipation. Murmurs echoed through the crowd as people tried to figure out what he was going to say. I noticed even a few tributes lean forward as if it what he would say next would really matter. I bit my lip, looking up at the screen briefly to see that Finnick's face had actually fallen. I frowned and sat back in my seat, abandoning the posture advice Effie had ingrained into my head.
"Actually, no, no I don't," he stated, and the amount of hope I could feel rising from the audience was a little disturbing. "But that doesn't mean I'm not trying for someone."
"Has somebody caught your eye, then?" Caesar grinned, raising an eyebrow knowingly. Finnick's smile was small, but it looked like the realest one he'd used all night.
"Yes, you could say that she has," he admitted, his head turning slightly so that he was looking at us tributes out of the corner of his eye. I glanced at his face then, startled to see his eyes locked on me. Caesar gasped, real glee painted across his features. No. No, no, nononono-
"Folks, I do believe we have a love triangle on our hands!" Caesar exclaimed, whipping around to look at the Capitolites like a bomb was just dropped. Shrieks rang out at that, some sounding much more excited than others. Emery stilled beside me, and the next time I looked at the screen it was split between him, Finnick and I, and Emery looked murderous.
The buzzer sounded, breaking the cameras' focus and bringing them back to Caesar, who of course wished Finnick the best of luck as he did for almost every other tribute so far. The overwhelming urge to run almost had me out of my seat, but one look from Portia was all I needed to stay rooted in place. I just had to last through three more pairs and I could go out onto the roof and scream out all my frustrations into the night sky. Or I could lock myself in my room and shriek into a pillow. Not like either option would change how rapidly out of control the situation was flying.
I forced myself to pay attention to Klew and Hive's interviews, but after Finnick they had no chance of making any sort of impact on anyone. I acted like I didn't notice all the focus put on me, or the stares, or the cameras. I wondered what my family thought of it all. I wondered what Katniss thought, what Gale thought. How much had I changed already from the girl they knew, the one that hunted with them in the woods? When I saw them again, would they still see me as the same person?
Hive walked quickly back to his seat, ducking his head when the District 2 girl, Clove Kentwell, passed him to start her interview. Thoughts crowded my brain, so much so that I couldn't even remember what she said before she was stalking back to her spot, a scowl on her face. Then, it was Cato's turn.
He played the cold-blooded killer angle. It was the brutal, intimidating side that would gain him sponsors simply because there would be no way he would die easily, if at all. He bragged about how ready he was to get into the games and to make his district proud. And then he said that nothing would stop him from getting what he wanted. The way his voice went lower at that last part stirred something within me, and all I could picture in my head was all the times I had found his gaze on my own since I had first laid my eyes on him. I stared at the back of his head, wondering if I was over-analyzing things again.
"If you say so, Cato. That's all the time we have for you, so everyone give a big hand for Cato Wynters of District Two! Good luck out there," Caesar said, unable to hide the slight wince when Cato gripped his hand a little too tight.
Glimmer went for sex appeal, but by now the audience's attention had waned too far for anything she did to mean anything. Once the cameras had started focusing on her and Caesar, Clove backhanded Cato's chest, whispering harshly from their end of the line. He acted like he hadn't noticed she even existed, which only served to tick off the small brunette even more. I snapped back to attention when they started playing the anthem and stood out of required respect, my legs itching to run.
We filed off in a neat line, but once we made it backstage there were people swarming everywhere. I immediately lost Emery in the wave of mentors and stylists and prep teams, much to my relief. Skirting around a few of the embracing groups, I made my way to the elevators, nearly breaking my left ankle when I misjudged my walking abilities. Flinging my arms out to steady myself, my hand hit something solid and had me whipping my head up to look at what I'd grabbed.
"Oh, uh, sorry," I managed to get out as I let go of Cato's arm.
He glanced down at my hand and up at my face, his cold eyes unreadable. He didn't say a word, but the ones he used earlier echoed in my ears. Nothing will stop me from getting what I want. Feeling more than a little anxious, I looked away from the blond brute, taking a moment to figure out that he was also without his district partner. He continued to stare, and I didn't know whether to leave or to stay standing there uncomfortably.
"Laurel."
Finnick appeared at my side out of nowhere, flashing me a winning smile before looking at Cato, who just shook his head and walked away. I swallowed hard, unsure of what to do with myself now that I was alone with the third part of my supposed "love-triangle". He glanced around the crowded room once before turning fully towards me.
"Could we talk in private for a moment? It shouldn't take very long," he said, his eyes honest. My mouth dried up for the second time that night and all I could do was nod. Besides, I was confident I could defend myself if he tried anything.
Finnick offered his arm, like a gentleman would to a lady. It surprised me. Tentatively, I looped my arm through his, and then we were off. Finnick was able to expertly weave us through the throngs of people, pulling me closer to keep me from bumping into some. I wasn't sure how he was able to get us in an elevator without anyone else getting in with, but he did it. He pressed two buttons and turned to me again, his hand preventing my arm from leaving his.
"I want to ally with you," he stated, cutting straight to the point. I balked.
"Why? You're a Career. You already have allies."
He frowned, his forehead wrinkling as he searched my eyes.
"Just because I come from the district I do, doesn't mean I have to play this game by their rules."
I opened my mouth to argue, but I ended up closing it without a word. He had a point.
"Why ally with me, then?" I finally asked, my voice smaller than I intended it to be. His frown vanished, softening his features, and his hand moved down to hold my own.
"Because I think you hold more value than you realize."
The elevator doors opened and he released me, walking out onto his floor. He looked back over his shoulder.
"Deal?"
I paused.
"Deal."
And the doors slid shut.
A/N: Love you guys. Hope you enjoyed :)