Catching Fire: Peeta's Perspective

by quintessence23

The entire Catching Fire written in Peeta's POV. How did he cope up with the pain after their Homecoming, and what was he thinking of during the Quell?

5. Victory Tour

CHAPTER 5

VICTORY TOUR

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Author's note: I know, it had been TOO long since the last time I posted a chapter. But here it is! I sincerely apologize for the long delay, and as my way of showing you how sorry I am, I've mad this chapter extra long - the longest that I've written for one chapter! Happy reading! And as always, please review!

---

The day of the official start of our tour came in the blink of an eye. Between my preoccupation with Haymitch's health, the impending reunion with Katniss, and my continued obsession with painting as part of my self-therapy for the nightmares, I haven't done anything of absolute importance. I have also dedicated a bit of my time to practice moving around in my fake leg, and it has thankfully become more comfortable and natural as days went by.

Today, I decide to make a small change in my morning routine. Since two days ago, I've been focused on a painting of Katniss - a vivid memory of when she was sleeping at our cave during the Seventy-Fourth Hunger Games - and I've barely stopped working on it until it's finished. I have no intent of including it in the set that will be displayed at the Capitol because it feels like a private memory to me. Just remembering the way her lips curled slightly that night as she cuddled closer to me brings a small smile to my lips. It's a reminder of happier times for me, and I don't want the audience to be sharing it.

In preparation for the Capitol team's arrival in just a few hours, I begin meticulously arranging the paintings in the living room so that they won't take so much time later; and to avoid them seeing my more private works. When all ten paintings are neatly lined up, I take a step back and survey my work. To be honest, it all seems brutal, composing mainly of thoughts that featured in my nightmares, and all made in the middle of the night when I can barely stop the pounding of my heart and the images that overflow my mind as the Games continue to haunt me. One good thing about the Victors Village is that we have electricity 24/7 - a sharp contrast to District 12's regular brownouts - allowing me to channel my nightmares to my works at any time of the day. Will the Capitol audience be able to see the significance of my works, that these are more than just paintings, but a view of how people who survive the arena become tortured and stuck in that place even when everything's over? Because that's the painful truth of the Games; Victors won, but we are never the same person as we were before we became tributes. In my case, it's more than just the physical reminder of losing part of my leg that serves as a reminder of what I had experienced, but the guilt over the lives lost in the arena. But as I've seen a few months back, I don't think that the Capitol audience will see it in the same light. They're blinded by the easy life they have there; oblivious to the hardships that the rest of us are experiencing day-by-day. More so for the people in the Seam.

When I'm satisfied that I have everything ready for the arrival of the team, I slowly begin baking. This morning, I decide to decorate tiger lilies on the cookies I'm making, in recollection of the pretty bunch I happened to come across at the gate of the Victors Village. Prim had always been extra-happier when I decorate the cookies, and I know that this will be no exception. I've dedicated a great deal of the morning making the batch of cookies as perfect as I could, concentrating on every small detail to ease my discomfort at today's event. I check the watch and see that it's almost 10 am already; three hours later than the usual time I deliver the bread. I carefully wrap the cookies in a pink paper bag I've ordered from the Capitol especially for Prim. I'm bent on making sure that this batch is special, knowing that I won't be able to spoil her for weeks. Which effectively reminds me again that those weeks will be spent with Katniss and the rest of the team, and that we would be required again to act for the entire Panem.

Looking like I'm in love with Katniss... has never been difficult for me, because I wasn't acting. I was (and still am) hopelessly in love with her. And after months of wallowing up in self-pity, I finally had the epiphany that the most likely reason why I reacted that way after I found out that she was only acting for the Games is that I was too afraid, too unsure of what we'll have when we're back home. I wasn't angry at her for faking being in love with me; I was angry at myself for even considering that she could be in love with me and for failing to see how I sort of pushed her into the romance anyway. Her uncertainty when I asked her point-blank about what will be left of our relationship when we get home fueled my fear, and because I had been too ecstatic that I'm finally able to talk to her, or even better, have a (pretend) relationship with her, I was too afraid that none will be left behind the cameras. But because of my fear, my misdirected anger, I pushed her even farther away. Katniss genuinely cared - I know that. She was willing to eat those berries with me when the Gamemakers announced that only one of us could survive, and she was willing to team up with me even though she is aware that I'm weak and wounded. She stayed by my side and nursed me back to health. Why had I been so greedy and expected more from her? I knew that Katniss won't try to mend things with me; she has too much pride for that, and I really should be the one apologizing to her for behaving so badly. Which I intend to do before the whole in-love performance begins again.

I smile as I remember how adamant Prim had been for me to extend my patience to Katniss. "She will come around. She had always been so stubborn," she told me over and over again, a pleading look to her eyes, and I can't help but wish that she's right; that Katniss will eventually warm up to me genuinely now that I've decided to stop being a coward and do my best to be at least win her friendship. But I've also sensed Prim's discomfort at the notion that her sister will have to leave again for quite some time, so I took it upon myself to make her feel more at ease about it, promising her that I will look after of her sister as best as I could. Aside from her taking notice of mine and Katniss' lack of interaction, Prim does not really seem to have an idea that the problem between our relationship goes much deeper than that... which I intend to fix starting today.

I set off to deliver the daily batch of bread and cookies to my neighbors, my eyes trained swiftly on the surroundings. Every sound that comes too close makes my heart beat erratically, and I have to mentally kick myself for panicking when it turns out to be a false alarm. Effie had given me the team's itinerary so I know when to expect them, but knowing how punctual and excited Effie is about the tour, I did not dismiss the possibility that they could arrive earlier than scheduled. Which is not a good thing. I've been hoping to talk to Katniss about how we will play out our roles for the duration of the Victory Tour, but I find myself losing every opportunity to do so. Or rather, I've neglected to take action in it. This morning, I decide to drop by the Everdeens' house first as I have resolved to kill the remaining hours with Haymitch.

Prim, as usual, greets me at the doorstep with a cheerful hug.

"What are they today, Peeta?" She asks happily, dragging me inside their living room again.

"Tiger lilies." I respond with a grin. "I saw some near the gate, and I thought they'd look good as cookies."

Prim laughs while taking a peek inside the bag. "You've outdone yourself this time, Peeta! They're really pretty. It feels like such a waste to eat them..." She adds, inspecting one cookie delicately.

"But it would be an even bigger waste if you just let it rot, right?" I respond in a playful tone. "I can always make another bunch like that."

"I know." She says, with the ever-present grin on her face. "Or you could paint them. That way, their beauty won't go to waste."

"Hmm... now that's a good idea. I'll do just that as soon as we get back from the Tour."

"Yay!" Prim squeals, clapping delightedly. "So have you prepared your paintings already?"

"Yes, everything's settled already." I answer. "I guess it's a good thing that I had a lot of practice at the bakery."

"Good for you. Katniss took forever to choose what her talent will be, even though Effie's list of talents was really enjoyable."

I laugh at her statement, noting once again the big difference between Katniss and Prim. "I'm sure you would have loved every single one of those things, Prim. But you know your sister has different hobbies."

"Yeah, yeah. Anyway, come inside the kitchen, Peeta. Mom's just busy preparing the house for the guests later."

"Oh, no Prim. It's okay. I also have to get going now to give Haymitch's bread and to make sure that he'll eat before the tour." I answer while moving towards the door. "Wouldn't want him to fall asleep in front of the cameras again."

"You'll go to Haymitch's house?" Prim asks, a playful glint in her eye.

"Uhm... yes." I reply distractedly, confused at her reaction. "Why?"

"Nothing." She answers, smirking. "Good luck with the tour, Peeta. And remember your promise." She says as soon as she had accompanied me outside.

"I will. Don't worry about your sister."

I was halfway across their lawn now when Prim calls me again and says something with a wink before disappearing inside their house. It made me freeze in my tracks; made me think twice about going to Haymitch's.

"I think she's in there too. She told me she'll wake him up."

---

Do not be a coward, Peeta.

I repeat the chant to myself in an attempt to calm my already erratic nerves. You'll have to interact with her sooner than later.

I sigh. Katniss and the others have always commended my 'talent' for speaking, but I feel otherwise. Speaking to Katniss had always been the bar to cross for me; the goal that has to be achieved. And I've finally done it, at a time when I forced myself to summon up the courage because I wholeheartedly believed that those were going to be my last days on earth, anyway. I've spoken to her, but I'm once again back on square one, thanks to my misdirected anger. I will have to patch things up with her. Fast.

I hear Haymitch and Katniss' voices as I stand outside Haymitch's door.

Come on, Peeta.

Taking a deep breath, I force myself to lock up my nervousness and step inside the house. I tread carefully, given the amount of waste on the floor, when I catch the end of her sentence.

"...you should have asked Peeta."

My heart does what it does every time I'm in close proximity to her.

"Asked me what?" I ask casually, hoping that they won't be able to detect the anxiousness in my voice. I walk towards them, carefully avoiding their gazes as I place the bread on the kitchen table. I hold my hand out to Haymitch, silently asking him for his knife. I didn't have to ask; we've done this many times already it's basically routine. When I finally look at him, I see that Haymitch is soaked, and I have to suppress my smile as I easily guess what Katniss did to wake him up.

"Asked you to wake me up without giving me pneumonia." He replies, removing his filthy shirt in the process then proceeding to dry himself up. I finally let myself smile; Haymitch looks very annoyed, but I know that he doesn't really mind it. Bickering seems to be their norm.

I douse the knife in Haymitch's bottle, which is sitting half-full on the floor. I could have washed it in the sink, but that would require me to come closer to Katniss, and I can't even look at her yet. What do I say to her when I do? Aware that I haven't acknowledged her presence yet - making things a lot more awkward - I focus on wiping the blade in my shirttail and slicing the bread. Would a hi Katniss suffice? No, definitely not...

I hand Haymitch the heel of the bread when inspiration strikes in. I finally look at her, perched in the windowsill.

"Would you like a piece?" I ask. My voice sounds stiff, strained.

"No, I ate at the Hob." She responds just as stiffly. "But thank you."

"You're welcome."

Stupid, stupid, stupid, I chastise myself. Way to go.

"Brr. You two have got a lot of warming up to do before showtime." Haymitch remarks loudly, breaking the tension in the air as he adds his wet shirt to the growing mess on the ground. I carefully sneak a look at Katniss again, at a loss with what to do.

"Take a bath, Haymitch." Katniss says before swinging out the window.

I breathe deeply. That was bad, real bad. How will I mend this?

"Seriously, kid. You gotta catch up before the cameras start rolling." Haymitch says, chuckling. "That girl can't charm a cat. You have to do enough acting for both of you."

I sigh. Is that how it will be for the next few weeks, months? Years, even? Just acting? "I'm working on it, Haymitch. I have to talk to her to apologize."

Haymitch snorts. "You've got it bad."

I sit in the chair across from him, concentrating again on slicing the bread. After a moment, he adds, "But you have to make the first move. She's too stubborn to act on it."

"Act on what? She doesn't have to do anything, I'm the one who drifted away after I learned about your plans."

"In case you haven't noticed, the girl is too afraid to trust people. And she did at the arena - with you, with me, with her instincts. And it wasn't really a plan, so much as a sudden burst of idea. A eureka moment, you see?"

"Doesn't matter now." I say.

"Oh it does. Everything matters. I know how disappointed you were when she told you about the acting. And it's most important now for both of you to keep up the act, look happy for the audience, make them continue rooting for you. They're watching you, especially Katniss. One wrong move, one hint that it's all a pretense, and you're both good as dead."

His words weigh heavily in my mind. In the arena, I haven't seen our refusal to kill the other as an act of rebellion - I saw it as an act of love. Yes, Katniss was about to shoot me when she saw me pick up the knife, but that's instinct. I didn't bother to think of the consequences, and how it all looked like to those in power. If I had known, I would have let myself bleed to death, so I could spare Katniss from the watchful eyes of the powerful. To protect her.

"Eat up, Haymitch. The camera crews will be here shortly." I stand up and hastily move towards the door, wanting to avoid the conversation as quickly as possible. "I'll see you in a bit."

"Think of what I said. Don't be too blinded!" He shouts on my way out.

I head back to my house, dazed. The Capitol crew will arrive any minute now, and I move robotically as I prepare myself. If I want to protect Katniss, I have to do my part, no matter how uncomfortable she might be in the act. But I'll do it the right way. I'm ready to start over.

---

Soon enough, our usually silent Village is disturbed by the sounds of screeching tires, car horns, banging doors, and the noise of several people talking at once. I rush towards the door to welcome them.

Serra and Hamish squeal as soon as I open the door. I step aside to let them in and smile to Portia, who is standing silently behind the two members of my prep team. Both of them added a drastic change to their appearances: Serra's hair is now dyed violet like her eyelashes and shaved at the sides, retaining only the middle part, which is in a long braid down her back like Katniss', while Hamish' once milky complexion is now a strange muddy color.

I wince. I didn't realize the extent to which the Capitol people idolize the Victors.

"Good to see you, Serra and Hamish." I say just as they squeezed me into a hug at the same time. I laugh. "I trust you had a good trip?"

Serra speaks first. "It's not so much of the trip but of the fact that we're finally seeing you again!"

"But what happened to your face! Those eyebags are hideous!" Hamish exclaims.

"You haven't been taking care of yourself!" Serra pipes up.

"I was just too excited with the new house and all," I say to placate them.

"Oooh yes! It's not as grand as the ones in the Capitol, but it's definitely nicer than the rest of the district!" Serra says.

I look to Portia in a defeated manner, knowing that I have to submit myself into their hands again. Not that I have anything against my prep team - I don't. The truth is, I've grown fond of them since the Games, and I'm happy to know that there's at least someone from the Capitol who may be genuinely trying to help me.

"You two, don't be so hard on him." Portia admonishes.

"We aren't! You still look good, of course!" Hamish says, as if this is the most important thing. And it probably is, to them. I was about to compliment them both when they become distracted by the paintings that I have lined up at the living room.

"Aaaaah look at that! Is that Clove?" Serra exclaims.

"This painting of the Cornucopia makes me feel like I've been there for real!" Hamish adds.

They ooh and aah around all ten paintings, and while they're distracted, I take it as my chance to have a brief catch-up with Portia. My friend from the Capitol. I hug her and smile warmly.

"Good to see you, Portia. You're looking good, as always."

Portia laughs. "You don't look so bad yourself, Peeta. And your paintings are excellent - you really have the talent."

"People will be all over your work!" I hear Hamish say excitedly.

"I bet everything will cost a fortune!" Serra adds.

I smile, saying nothing. I want nothing more than to be rid of those images already. I feel Portia's hand on my arm and see her reassuring smile.

"I know it's difficult. Just hold tight for a few weeks, all right? Then the cameras won't be as focused on you as they are now, what with the upcoming Quell and all." Portia whispers.

I'm glad she didn't wait for me to respond, because I don't really have anything to say to that. It's definitely a good thing for Katniss and I, of course, to have the cameras move their focus somewhere else as soon as possible. But the mention of the Quarter Quell, of having more Hunger Games, makes my insides clench. I hate knowing that more and more innocent people, children even, will be subjected to that kind of nightmare. Is this really the price to pay for the war before? Haven't we paid our debt in full already?

Portia calls the attention of Serra and Hamish, and the two of them drag me into my room to prepare for the start of the Victory Tour. Portia heads outside, and I presume it's to get my wardrobe for today. I listen politely to my prep team's incessant chatter about things from the Capitol, and the excitement of everyone about our arrival.

"I had my hair styled like Katniss' trademark braid, did you notice, Peeta?" Serra asks.

I whip my head in her direction when I suddenly realize the reasoning behind the addition to their already extreme appearances. Her hairstyle - in general - looks nothing like the simple and conventional braid that Katniss wears to keep the hair out of her face, if not for the braided portion. It really shouldn't surprise me how the Capitol can transform something as simple as a braid into something that conforms to their idea of beauty.

"Ah, so that's why! I was wondering why you decided to get that extraordinary hairstyle, Serra, and from where you got the inspiration."

Serra beams at me and pokes Hamish. "Hamish here got his skin dyed like yours when you camouflaged yourself."

"It's in commemoration of your incredible artistry with the mud. I was too moved every time you whisper her name in your sleep, and that camouflage helped to keep you alive until you finally got reunited, so I took it as my main vision for this new look." He winks.

I smile in what I hope is a convincing way at them. I didn't realize how strongly the Capitol people idolize the Victors, and how much it influences even their appearance.

"Everyone got really bored after the Games, and they all can't wait to see the most famous lovers in Panem again!" Hamish adds.

"But then, we can't wait for this day because it won't be long until we see you again and you'll be mentors for the Quarter Quell!"

The two of them launch into an extensive discussion of what their friends did to cope up with their boredom, and what "exciting" twists could be in store for the new set of tributes. The Quarter Quell is always guaranteed to be "extra-thrilling" for the Capitol, and a thousand times more nerve-wracking for those in the districts. I am certainly not looking forward to it, and I dread being a mentor.

At one point I begin to imagine what life would be like if I were born as a Capitol resident. I would probably turn out to be like them, too, given their lack of knowledge about the hardships the districts (or most of them, with the exception of the rich ones like Districts 1 and 2) had to face in order to get them the materials for all their luxuries. But then I realize that Portia doesn't seem to think like them, and even Cinna, in those brief moments that I've interacted with him. What made them different?

Portia arrives at the room with a garment in her arms, and I take it without hesitation. I'm sure that whatever they prepared for us to wear is comfortable while satisfying the "style standards" of the Capitol. Today's ensemble includes a white sweatshirt, a suede topcoat, a scarf, leather gloves, waterproof leather boots, and a black knitted hat.

Portia eyes me up and down with a huge smile on her face. "You're all set. I think - "

Her sentence is cut off by a loud "Peeta!" that could only come from Effie.

"And that's my cue." Portia says. "They'll film you briefly with your paintings, just tell them something about it, and you're good to go."

Effie's head peeks in the door of my room. "Ah! There you are! We have a rather tight schedule, so move move move! Come on now, you look really handsome already, now face the cameras downstairs!" She trills while gently pushing me to the staircase.

"Hello to you too, Effie." I say, laughing.

"Aaaaack quit charming me! They're waiting!"

I stand beside a man holding a camera, listening to him tell me what he wants to film. Afterwards, I move around the paintings for a few minutes, giving them a few details about the work, describing it and telling them of its significance. I found to be a difficult task, but successfully finished, nonetheless. When they're satisfied with what they've recorded, Effie bounds out the door, instructing me to prepare for the first outdoor shot in exactly two minutes, and heads to Katniss' house.

I glance towards Portia as I wait for my turn. She gives me a thumbs up, and I feel myself breathing deeply for the hundredth time.

This is it, show time, I tell myself. Act naturally, act like you always do with her. Stop thinking, just be with her.

At the second minute, I hear one of the crew say "go" and open the door. I step out of the front door, letting my eyes adjust to the snow, and see Katniss' figure in front of her house. Upon seeing me, she smiles hugely and begins walking towards me.

This is it, I remind myself. Your happy place, Peeta.

I walk towards her too, keeping my eyes focused on her. Then she runs and I catch her, resting my arms around her waist and spinning her around to keep my balance. Unfortunately, I slip mid-turn and we fall together, my body underneath hers. I look into her eyes - what is she thinking right now? - and draw my face closer to hers. It's one full of nervous anticipation, but when our lips finally meet, I feel myself relax and lose myself in it. This is Katniss, this is the woman I've been in love with for so long. I cradle her face with my left arm while keeping my right arm on her waist. We pause for breath and I feel her sigh, but I don't allow myself to think deeper into it. I press my forehead to hers and kiss her lightly again, before finally letting go. Katniss stands and pulls me up with her, both of us with a smile on our faces. She links her arm with mine as we go to the designated car for us. My fuzzy brain registers some whoops from our small audience, coming from the Capitol crew. In the corner of my eye I see a small group of people ushering Haymitch to another car. I see Prim's satisfied smile and Mrs. Everdeen's teary gaze, and I let Katniss slide into the car first before following her inside. Both of them will be bidding us goodbye at the train station, as well as my family.

Our car is the last to leave the Village. Katniss and I stay close together inside the car, but we don't speak. We don't have to, as it's a short ride, and there's nothing much to say. We don't discuss the kiss we just shared or the things that we would have to do for the next few weeks. Her hand remains linked to my arm, which I take to be a good sign. In a moment of bravery, I let my fingers form soothing circles on her hand, silently telling her what is on my mind right now: that we will be all right, that I'm here for her, that I'm sorry for pushing her further away. She doesn't say anything, but she doesn't remove her hand, either.

---

The train station is thankfully not swamped with media as I had thought it would be. Only a few cameras are there, all of which greedily follow every move of Katniss and me. The cars containing our families, prep teams, Haymitch, and Effie arrive before we did, so there is already a reception waiting for us. We momentarily leave each other's side as we say goodbyes to our family; Katniss taking a bit longer than me. Prim approaches me with watery eyes and hugs me too, earning a lot of positive reaction from the camera crews.

All too soon, the train finally arrives and are pushed on our way by Effie.

"Up, up, up you go!" She says. "They'll be back before you know it." Effie adds, speaking to both our families. They don't get a chance to react as we're pushed inside the train after the entire team and the doors are closed swiftly behind us.

"I'm sure everyone's delighted as I am to start this Victory Tour!" Effie exclaims. "Now, go find your rooms and do whatever you want - I'll call you both when dinner is ready."

Katniss, who had been looking a bit lost and overwhelmed, marches away into her room without waiting for another word. I follow suit, but I don't try to keep pace with her, knowing that she needs to spend some time alone. I can talk to her later.

---

We are served a very sumptuous meal for dinner, but Katniss remains the same, barely speaking with anyone. This doesn't really surprise the others because they're used to her reserved character, but from the look on their faces, Haymitch and Cinna knows as well as I do that something is bothering her. I politely listen to the others and pitch in when necessary as they talk about the clothes they've prepared for us and what we could expect when we arrive at the districts. Effie is noticeably upbeat because she's in the spotlight for being the escort of the year's Victors, and is blissfully unaware of Katniss' troubled expression.

Portia talks to me after dinner so I was spared the sure-to-be awkward walk back with Katniss to our rooms. She merely informs me of the plans for tomorrow and the later call time for the team, mostly because there's not much preparation needed for me. When she finally retired to her room and the silence in my own room seem to get worse after what seemed like hours, I decide to familiarize myself with the train. I grab a pen and a stack of papers before I leave my room, in case it could be of use. By the end of our first night on the trip, I've made my own tour of the entire train and still failed to let sleep come to me.

I go back to the last car of the train, which has several couches and back windows that retract into the ceiling so that the fresh air comes in. It's peaceful and allows me to really breathe, so I decide that this could be the best place for me. As I sit there, I begin to think of all the districts we will be visiting. It would be horrible - I know that we will be meeting the families of our fellow tributes. They would be naturally agitated and hostile towards us, but I completely understand. What I dread most is going to District Eleven - the first in our itinerary - because this is where Rue's and Thresh' families will be. Katniss had formed a special bond with Rue; I know how they have become allies and how she grew attached to her because of Rue's similarities with Prim. And Thresh saved her life. It would undoubtedly be an uncomfortable meeting.

What would I say to them? Victors are required to make a speech at every district they visit. Effie had prepared one for us, a speech that had already been approved by the President. But it doesn't seem right to give a scripted, detached message to that District. We owe them so much. I take out my pen and paper and begin to write my own message for them. How Katniss and I owe our lives to Rue and Thresh. How both of them were so brave, so noble, that it's difficult to see their faces in the night sky back at the arena. How it's unfair to lose them in the way they did.

---

The following morning started with breakfast with my prep team before they officially began their work on me. Effie passed by the dining car to get some coffee, complaining about Katniss' "absolute lack of enthusiasm for such a high-class and exciting event" when she woke her up hours ago so that she can "be beautified for the event".

"She doesn't really need much prepping, Effie." I tell her. "She looks beautiful already."

Effie peeks at me from her cup and grins. "Ah, but that's for you, Peeta. Of course you'd see her that way! The Capitol, meanwhile..." Effie exhales dramatically and rolls her eyes. "Let's just say it's a pity that Cinna won't allow any alterations on her. She could do with more color on her."

I frown, imagining Katniss with dyed hair, upturned brows, and other signature styles that the Capitol people think are the standards of beauty. But of course I wisely keep the nasty comments to myself, knowing that their different upbringing is by no means their fault.

"Well it's a good thing that Cinna and I share the same views, then." I say with a smile. "The colors look good on you... but I think it will only make Katniss stand out so much, and people will keep noticing her especially in our district. And by then many more people will adore her, I don't think I can keep up with more competition, Effie."

Effie laughs. "I don't think you need to worry about that, Peeta dear! My, my. Everybody knows you're the star-crossed lovers!"

She walks across the room and pats my shoulders briefly, lovingly - like a mother would. "I doubt people would let other competition ruin the relationship of the people they so adore. And I'm sure Katniss wouldn't notice them, too! She's much too taken with you! Anyway, I need to make sure that everything's set for your arrival in District Eleven. See you later, ciao!"

Hamish and Serra both echo the views of Effie and discuss among themselves the possibilities if Katniss and I were to separate. My heart sinks with every word they utter: they have so much faith in us to the point that I'm quite certain they'll react negatively (even violently) when they finally learn that Katniss and I cannot be more than friends.

I spend a few minutes with Hamish and Serra as they do the necessary preparations for me, which mostly involves just a bit of waxing and polishing my hair. I don't get to see Katniss until lunch time, when Effie declared that we should start without waiting for them "because it might take hours more" to finish her prepping. The group - my prep team, Effie, Cinna, and Haymitch - easily fall into a lively conversation. Katniss arrives at the dining car with her prep team a few minutes after we've started the delicious main course of steak and potato salad. She slumps down in her chair looking gloomy just as Effie had described at breakfast, and continues to ignore everyone at the table.

"The food is really delicious." I say, just to distract them from Katniss' behavior. "Someday I'll learn how to cook all these Capitol food that you have."

"That would be wonderful!" Effie exclaims. "This is one of my favorites - I requested the train's chef to cook it for us today. Your culinary skills are exemplary, Peeta. I'm sure it will take you no time to learn the recipes."

"I could probably talk to the chef." I answer.

"You could request for him to have a session with you." Hamish interrupts. "This potato salad is really exquisite. I think they said that they add some secret spices... not really sure what because I don't cook!" Hamish adds with a throaty laugh.

"Yes, perhaps you could ask if that's a possibility. It's very exciting to learn. The Capitol provides so many luxuries, it's a pity that most of the districts don't get to experience it." Serra adds.

"Maybe everyone should be tributes, then!" Hamish exclaims. "That way everyone will get to have a taste of the Capitol."

"That's not feasible, Hamish." Portia says quietly, but with a look of dismay on her face. "The Gamemakers and the Capitol would have a hard time keeping everyone together."

I sneak a look at Katniss to see if she heard of Hamish' remark; certain that it would trigger something inside of her and the conversation could easily erupt into a full-blown fight.

"Speaking of luxuries..." I say to move the conversation to a lighter topic. "The bed in this train is very comfortable. The first time I've been here, I never imagined that such a bed could exist. On a train."

Everyone at the table laughs, except for Katniss.

"Oh it is!" Serra answers excitedly. "I slept very soundly - and that's very good because I don't think I can take another sleepless night. We had to wake up so early when we picked you up yesterday just so we could catch the train."

Sleepless nights... I wonder how that pales in comparison to the sleepless nights that we have because of the nightmares. I look at Katniss again as she continues to play with her bowl of broth, barely eating anything. Unfortunately, Effie notices too.

"How about you Katniss? Did you sleep well last night?" She asks.

Katniss looks at her from her bowl and answers: "Just as fine as any other night, Effie."

"That's good, considering that you had to wake up earlier than the others." Effie adds.

"Yes!" Flavius, a member of Katniss' prep team, exclaims. "So many hours of beauty sleep lost... my poor skin is starting to suffer!"

"Aw, Flavius," Octavia says. "Just think of the TV appearances and social events we're invited to. It's a fair price!"

"But how will I look good for my first ever high profile events with these days of sleepless nights?" Flavius complains. "Good thing I love Katniss so dearly, and she never gives us any headache!"

"That is so true." Venia says. "So much better than those other brats we had to work with!"

I try to tune them out as they converse in full details of the past tributes who had a lot of complaints during their makeover. All of a sudden, the train slows down and eventually stops in the middle of nowhere. I look to Effie and see her confusion.

"Are we near the destination?" I ask her.

"No... we're due to arrive in a few hours, at least. They must be stopping for fuel."

My eyes drift to the door of the dining car; in time to see a short stout man enter and head straight towards Effie. Effie looks bewildered at his presence, and I immediately know that whatever he is about to say will not be pleasing.

"What is the matter with the train, Borges? I thought we won't be needing to stop for fuel until at least after District 11?"

"Miss Trinket - unfortunately there has been a malfunction in one of the train's engines. That's why I came here to personally report it to you. We need to stop here for a short while to replace the parts; otherwise, we might be in danger."

Effie's face glows crimson, her mouth hanging open as she stares at the man named Borges. "But we just don't have the time to spare!" She shrieks, and pulls out a piece of paper from her handbag. "My schedule says that we are on a very tight schedule. This delay will affect everything!"

"It will take just an hour at most, Miss Trinket..." Borges says.

"An hour!" Effie half-shrieks, half-shouts. "We don't have an hour! Did you hear what I said, Borges? This delay will affect the rest of our lives! We absolutely cannot be late for anything! Do you know how that will affect our reputation? How that will impact negatively?"

Everyone looks uncomfortable; avoiding to look at Effie and Borges. Hamish tries to look busy with her food; Portia and Cinna engage in a quiet conversation; and Haymitch continues drinking and picking at his muffin. I was debating whether or not to stop their fight when Katniss suddenly snaps.

"No one cares, Effie!"

Everyone stops talking at once and looks at her. I stare too, surprised by her sudden outburst and her shorter-than-usual patience.

"Well, no one does!" Katniss adds, before standing from the table and leaving the dining car.

No one speaks for another few seconds, until I finally decide to excuse myself from the table.

"She must be really tired." I tell them. "Excuse me... I'll just come find her."

I don't wait for their permission and leave the dining car, too. Something is obviously bothering her, and I take this as a good time to finally talk to her.

If I know her correctly, I'm assuming that Katniss would head out the train to get some fresh air. Before the Games, the forest had been her refuge, so she would probably feel the need to go outside to calm down. I open the train's exit door and look to the right when I see her familiar figure hunched on the ground a couple hundred yards away from the train. I walk towards her, trying to keep my footsteps as light as possible, though I'm sure that the hunter in her would still hear me. I still remember how she complained about how noisy I am when I walk, even though to me I feel like I'm barely making any noise.

"I'm not in the mood for lecture." She says when I'm near enough, not even bothering to turn around.

My heart thumps nervously in my chest. This is it. You're finally doing it, Peeta.

"I'll try to keep it brief." I answer, settling myself on the ground beside her.

She looks at me then, surprise registering on her face when she realizes it's me. "I thought you were Haymitch."

I shake my head, smiling slightly. Of course Katniss wouldn't think I'd follow her out here after I shut her out for many months. I re-position my artificial leg into a comfortable position as I think of the best way to start the conversation. "No, he's still working on that muffin. Bad day, huh?"

"It's nothing." Katniss answers dismissively.

I take a deep breath and force myself to have the guts to finally tell her what's been going on in my head.

"Look, Katniss, I've been wanting to talk to you about the way I acted on the train." I pause briefly, but hurriedly clarify my point when I see the confused look on her face. "I mean, the last train. The one that brought us home. I knew you had something with Gale. I was jealous of him before I even officially met you. And it wasn't fair to hold you to anything that happened in the Games. I'm sorry."

Katniss doesn't speak for a few moments, and I let her. I can almost see the wheels turning in her brain, can almost sense the hateful words that she'll utter for my unforgivable behavior.

"I'm sorry, too." She finally says. I look at her, stunned. Why is she asking for my forgiveness?

"There's nothing for you to be sorry about." I tell her. "You were just keeping us alive. But I don't want us to go on like this, ignoring each other in real life and falling into the snow every time there's a camera around. So I thought if I stopped being so, you know, wounded, we could take a shot at just being friends."

There. I've finally said it, and offered her what I know is the only thing that she would ever be willing to give me. And as the words leave my mouth, a sense of peace overwhelms me, making me more at ease with myself that I've been in the past few months.

"Okay." Katniss answers. I smile, knowing that we've finally overcome our differences and misunderstandings, and we're now willing to try out this new relationship. That of being friends. And it excites me more than anything.

She doesn't speak again, so we just sit there comfortably for a few minutes before I eventually ask her what's been bothering her since we hopped on the train.

"So what's wrong?"

Katniss remains silent, avoiding my gaze by picking at the clump of weeds at her feet again.

Of course she won't answer immediately; I expected that much. Katniss had always been the type to keep her problems to herself. Since we've both agreed to be friends just a few minutes ago... I take a shot and try a different angle.

"Let's start with something more basic. Isn't it strange that I know you'd risk your life to save mine... but I don't know what your favorite color is?"

A smile forms on her lips, making me smile in return. Voila! "Green." She answers. "What's yours?"

"Orange." I reply immediately, recalling the color I used for the tiger lilies I baked for Prim.

"Orange? Like Effie's her?" Katniss asks, surprise evident on her voice.

"A bit more muted. More like... sunset."

She stays quiet again, looking deep in though. After a while, she says, "You know, everyone's been raving about your paintings. I feel bad I haven't seen them."

"Well, I've got a whole train car full." I answer, smiling. I stand up and offer her my hand. "Come on."

She graciously takes my hand and stands, and when we start walking, she doesn't let go. The idea that she seems to really be comfortable with our idea of friendship warms me up. And I'm glad to be given this second chance.

When we reach the train's door, she suddenly turns to me and says, "I've got to apologize to Effie first."

"Don't be afraid to lay it on thick."

Katniss laughs, shaking her head. We walk back to the dining car, still hand in hand. I catch the satisfied look on Haymitch and the smirk that follows, as well as the dreamy faces of the members of our prep team as they see our entwined hands. Portia and Cinna are more subdued, both of them offering us small smiles. Effie, however, still looks dejected and tries to avoid looking at us.

I let Katniss go as she approaches Effie.

"Effie... I'm so very sorry." She begins. "It was very wrong of me to speak like that to you, when you have been very supportive and caring of all of us. I didn't mean to have an outburst like that... I shouldn't have done that just because I was feeling pressured."

Effie slowly looks at Katniss and smiles. It's easy to see that she's pleased that Katniss is apologizing to her - it's probably high in her etiquette manual. "Don't worry, my dear. I accept your apology. It's clear that you're under a lot of pressure. We all understand, it can really be very draining. I reacted that way because I didn't want you to be behind schedule, you know how meticulous the Capitol people are about those things. It's very important for people like you - Victors, looked upon by people and idolized by many - to have someone attending to the schedule, to lessen the pressure on your shoulders and to keep you on track of your activities. It would be very disappointing if Victors would suddenly be very late for ceremonies and high-profile dinners, and President Snow won't be very pleased." She pauses for breath and smiles at both of us. "I'm very pleased to be the escort for both of you, and you're both very dear to me so I don't want you to look terribly incompetent in front of the whole Panem."

Katniss patiently listens, nodding at the appropriate moments and keeping the serene look on her face. She got off easily from Effie's lecture.

"Right... I expect you'd want to rest. So off you go!" Effie says, effectively ending her lecture. Haymitch winks at us as we pass by.

"Well that was easy." I comment.

"I know." Katniss replies, relief seeping in her voice. "A five-minute lecture from Effie after I broke her golden rules on etiquette. That must have been a record."

I laugh, glad to see that Katniss is in a considerably lighter mood now. We walk past a few more cars until we reach the one with my paintings. I let her in, and patiently wait for her reaction.

Awe immediately registers on her face as she takes in the room and starts walking slowly, analyzing the details of each painting. It's hard to judge what she thinks of my paintings, because her face is set in that straight face she uses to hide her emotions. When the pressure gets too much, I ask her. "What do you think?"

"I hate them." She answers immediately, but I easily understand what she means by it. "All I do is go around trying to forget the arena and you've brought it back to life. How do you remember those things so exactly?"

"I see them every night." I answer truthfully.

Katniss nods, surveying the painting of a mutt-version of Glimmer. "Me, too. Does it help? To paint them out?"

"I don't know. I think I'm a little less afraid of going to sleep at night, or I tell myself I am. But they haven't gone anywhere." Perhaps there is no cure. Perhaps this is our price to pay for the deaths of our fellow tributes, for being the ones to survive.

"Maybe they won't." Katniss says, echoing my thoughts. "Haymitch's haven't."

I'm sure she's right - maybe that's why Haymitch is drunk all the time; so he doesn't have to face the nightmares. But I hate to think that this is how it's going to be like for the rest of our lives.

"No. But for me, it's better to wake up with a paintbrush than a knife in my hand." It's true, painting has helped me get through those sleepless nights. It kept me sane, to have a way to channel my nightmares into something else. "So you really hate them?" I ask her.

"Yes. But they're extraordinary. Really." Katniss says, and turns away from the painting to look at me. "Want to see my talent? Cinna did a great job on it."

I laugh, remembering how Prim kept me updated on Katniss' progress with her "talent". But I notice the changing landscape outside from the window, and I realize that we may be nearing our destination.

"Later." I tell her. "Come on, we're almost to District Eleven. Let's go take a look at it."

I extend my hand towards her again, and she takes it without hesitation. I lead her to the last car on the train, knowing that this is the place that would most likely provide us with the best view. Just as we've settled ourselves on one of the couches, the train slows to a tall fence with coils of barbed wire on top. I notice that there are also watchtowers within the fields of wildflowers, making a sharp contradiction to the otherwise beautiful scenery. There's no doubt that District Eleven is very heavily guarded; much more than District Twelve is. The fences and the towers make it seem like the people here are prisoners, which they might really be. We all are, except that we enjoy much more leeway from the Peacekeepers in our district.

"That's something different." I remark.

Katniss doesn't say anything. We silently observe the long stretch of crops where men, women, and children are all working together. They stop their work for a moment as our train passes by. In the distance I see orchards and rows of shacks where the people live. It's a depressing sight, and it makes me appreciate our District even more.

Our train passes by what seems to be an endless place for crops. This is probably why they are very guarded. President Snow cannot afford for this District to revolt, given its huge size and population. It could easily be ten times more than District Twelve's. I knew from discussions in school that District Eleven is a "large" district, but it still surprises me how huge it really is.

"How many people do you think live here?" I ask Katniss.

She shakes her head. Neither of us would know, of course. Even classes in school are carefully observed and regulated by the Capitol, so there are no absolute numbers, no official figures when they mention the other districts.

"I wrote my personal message for them." I say after a long moment of silence. "It just seemed more appropriate rather than to just read out the speech that Effie prepared for us."

Katniss looks at me and reaches over to squeeze my hand. "Thank you. I tried to write my own message too... but the words just won't come out. I can't... I can't bear to think about it again."

I nod. Katniss had a personal connection with both of them, and I know that to say it's difficult to write a message for Rue's and Thresh' families is an understatement. It's painful and gut-wrenching and devastating.

"Can I see it?" Katniss asks after a while.

"The message I've written?" I clarify. She nods, and I reach in my pockets to get the folded piece of paper. I've kept it with me since last night, not even bothering to tell or show Effie. I know she wouldn't approve.

Katniss takes the piece of paper and reads it carefully. Tears begin to glisten in her eyes, and she wipes it away before it could fall. I look away, knowing that she wouldn't want me to see that.

"You express your thoughts beautifully." She says. "I don't think I could have said it any better."

I smile and take the paper wordlessly from her. We stay watching the scenery for a long time until the door of the train car opens. I look back and see Effie, a big smile plastered on her face.

"There you are! I've been looking everywhere for you two!" She says loudly. "Come now, you have to get dressed! We'll be arriving at the station shortly."

Katniss and I stand up and follow her without any objections. Truth be told, I cannot wait to get this tour over with. We go our separate ways as we head to our own compartments, where our prep teams are waiting for us. Since Hamish and Serra had already prepared my hair earlier, all they had to do was add a bit more color to my face, which they described as "very, very, drastically pale" and then Portia comes in with a simple pants and suit attire for me. When I'm dressed and made up, Portia escorts me to the dining car where Effie is waiting. Katniss comes in a few minutes later, wearing a beautiful orange frock patterned with autumn leaves. I smile at her, thinking of our conversation earlier about our favorite colors. She returns the smile and whispers, "Cinna must be a genius; he used your favorite color for my dress."

"He must be psychic." I whisper back.

She laughs at my remark, catching the attention of Effie.

"Being with Peeta seemed to make you lose some of the pressure, Katniss. That's good. Okay! Now, I need to run you through the flow of the program for today so you won't get lost. District Eleven, as always, will be having your presentation at the square in front of their Justice Building. You will stay at the verandah as you are introduced to the audience... I don't even think the introduction part is necessary because everyone knows you, but that's for formality purposes... then the Mayor will have his speech for both of you. After his speech, that's the time for you to read the thank you speech I provided you with. Remember - act naturally, smile, make them see how thankful you are. You may add a few personal comments as long as you limit it, and since Katniss was allied with Rue, I sort of expect that already. It is not necessary to say something apart from the speech I gave you, but it may be appropriate to say a quick word of thanks to the family of your ally. Then you will be given a plaque for your victory, and you will be brought inside the Justice Building for dinner. Any questions?"

"None." Katniss and I say in unison.

The train begins to slow down and I see the outline of the train station. As we pull outside, Cinna and Portia enter the dining car and Katniss is momentarily separated from me as Cinna puts the final touches to her outfit.

"That's a very nice outfit as usual, Cinna." I comment. "I love the color."

Cinna winks at me and smiles cheerfully. "I knew the color would look good on her. It makes her look younger."

And more vulnerable, I think. Perfect for the "lovebirds" front for the whole Panem, because really, who can question the genuineness of the actions of a girl in love?

Effie claps her hand loudly and ushers Katniss and I into the exit door. "Okay, ready!"

The doors open and we step out into the dazzling sunlight of District Eleven. Outside, eight Peacekeepers wordlessly await us, and as soon as our feet touch the ground, they touch each of our elbows and maneuver us into the back of an armored truck. Katniss and I make eye contact, both of us probably thinking of the very guarded treatment here. There are no crowds to welcome us at the station as everyone is probably preoccupied at the fields. Effie screeches as the Peacekeeper grabs her elbow, complaining about improper treatment of a woman and how the Peacekeeper should learn some manners.

"How disgraceful!" She exclaims as sit at the back of the truck. "Really, you'd think we were all criminals! Was that even really necessary?"

Katniss keeps her lips in a straight line and doesn't comment.

"It's probably what the protocol says about being a guarded district, Effie." I remind her.

Effie huffs. "It is still very unacceptable. I wouldn't want to set foot here again."

I smile and decide to let her calm herself down in peace. The train station is only a short distance from the Justice Building, and we arrive there only a few minutes later. The Peacekeepers open the back of the truck and "guides" us again into the back of the Justice Building, a huge marble structure with a crumbling facade. We are escorted directly into the front entrance of the building where the sound of the anthem echoes. One of the staff attaches a microphone on the lapel of my jacket. I take Katniss' hand again, remembering the first time I did this, when we were paraded to the Capitol as tributes. She smiles gratefully at me, probably also remembering how we've once held hands to provide support and reassurance to the other. Because that's what we are then, and now - a team.

"...The victors of the Seventy-fourth Hunger Games! From District Twelve, Katniss Everdeen and Peeta Mellark!" The Mayor announces.

The front doors of the Justice Building creak open as he introduces us, and I feel a nudge on my shoulders as Effie pushes us forward. "Big smiles!" She reminds us.

The crowd greets us with loud applause, but I suspect this is mostly for politeness and from the instructions of the Capitol. We stand in the marble stairs of the verandah, and since we're mostly protected from the sun in the comfort of our train, my eyes took some time to adjust to its bright glare. My eyes swiftly scan the audience. The families of Rue and Thresh stand separately in a platform at the bottom of the stage. Rue's family consists of her parents and five younger siblings, all of whom look so much like her. Thresh' family meanwhile consists only of an old hunched woman who I assume is his mother, and a tall muscular girl who resembles him so much, she could only be his sister. All of them look at us with pain etched on their faces. I focus my eyes on the audience in an attempt to avoid the growing lump in my throat.

When the applause dies out, the Mayor of District Eleven begins his speech.

"Ladies and gentlemen. We all came here today to triumph as one district, one country in the victory of District Twelve's Katniss Everdeen and Peeta Mellark, who both showed bravery and heart in the Seventy-Fourth Hunger Games. We also came to pay our tribute to our very own Rue and Thresh, who had showed skill and fearlessness in the arena. It is now time to move forward - we have done our part in repaying for our debts for the war - and now we accept that the loss of two people in our district is only a small sacrifice that we have to endure for us to learn. This is why we, District Eleven, genuinely say our congratulations to the victory of Katniss Everdeen and Peeta Mellark."

I keep my eyes on the audience throughout the speech as I try to quell my anger at how callously the Capitol can downplay the deaths of the other tributes. At the end of the Mayor's speech, I notice the Peacekeepers signalling for the crowd to applaud, which they obediently do. Two girls aged about five or six come up the stage to hand Katniss and I the bouquet of flowers that they're holding. I smile warmly at the little girl in front of me, gently ruffling her hair as I say my thanks.

"Thank you." I begin, remembering our cue to begin reciting our speech. "The Seventy-Fourth Hunger Games was a tough competition and display of excellence among tributes. In a limited amount of time, we were all trained and provided with the necessary skills to survive in the arena, and it is of immense luck that Katniss and I are here today. Rue and Thresh, the tributes of District Eleven, had been courageous competitors, and we both owe them our lives."

I grasp Katniss' hand and squeeze it gently. She begins reciting her part mechanically.

"It is in this regard that we pay tribute to them, as well as for the other districts, and give them our respects. Rue and Thresh, District Eleven, thank you."

"Thresh and Rue were both highly scored tributes by the Gamemakers, and they've proven how much they're worth at the arena. Both made it to the final eight, a feat that is celebrated and demonstrative of their capacities to survive." The words flow easily, effortlessly, that I didn't find the need to take out my written message for their families. I know it by heart. "I have a lot to thank both of them for, because as we all know, they kept Katniss alive, and therefore kept me alive as well. Rue's alliance with Katniss at a time when she really needed someone was something which I know kept Katniss going in the arena. And Thresh... the way he spared Katniss' life at a very crucial point in the Game is something we can never repay. We can never thank them, and you, for that."

I look at their families and see the same hostility radiating from their parents. Rue's siblings inch closer to their mother, as though seeking protection. I realize that my word of thanks mean nothing to them; it can't feed them, can't give them back their son and daughter. I breathe deeply and contemplate before continuing. Sudden inspiration strikes me just by looking at their families, and by seeing the sad state in their district. Katniss and I both have a lot more than what we actually need. I have no idea if this will be allowed, but will the Capitol neglect a promise made in public? I'm sure they wouldn't. It might be worth a shot. It has to be.

"It can in no way replace your losses, but as a token of our thanks, we'd like for each of the tributes' families from District Eleven to receive one month of our winnings every year for the duration of our lives."

The once silent and uninterested crowd gasps and murmurs audibly as they hear my words. I feel Katniss' hand tighten in mine and look at her with a sad smile. She looks at me with shock on her face and tears in her eyes, then she tiptoes to kiss me. I look at her, stunned. My announcement must have made her very happy to garner that reaction; I don't even doubt her sincerity.

The Mayor, who also seemed taken aback by my words, recovers his composure and moves toward us to present a plaque. It's huge enough that I have to let go of Katniss' hand to properly hold it. This signifies the end of our appearance here at the verandah, and just as I was about to guide Katniss towards the Justice Building, she stumbles forward and says in a loud voice, "Wait!"

"Wait, please." Katniss says again. She looks at the crowd and focuses her stare on Rue's and Thresh' family. "I want to give my thanks to the tributes of District Eleven. I only ever spoke to Thresh one time. Just long enough for him to spare my life. I didn't know him, but I always respected him. For his power. For his refusal to play the Games on anyone's terms but his own. The Careers wanted him to team up with them from the beginning, but he wouldn't do it. I respected him for that."

I notice that the crowd has once again fallen silent, hanging on to Katniss' every word. Even Thresh' family is listening intently now. Katniss continues: "But I feel as if I did know Rue, and she'll always be with me. Everything beautiful brings her to mind. I see her in the yellow flowers that grow in the Meadow by my house. I see her in the mockingjays that sing in the trees. But most of all, I see her in my sister, Prim. Thank you for your children. And thank you all for the bread."

It's the longest speech that Katniss has given in front of the public, and it's also the most heartfelt. No one can doubt the pain in her voice, or the tears stinging her eyes. This is not acting; this is the real Katniss, at her most vulnerable.

And then I hear it - a four-note mockingjay tune that could only be Rue's. Katniss had told this to me before, but I've only heard it now. I look for the source of the sound and discover that it's from an old man who is looking directly at her. All at once, the crowd presses the three middle fingers in their left hand against their lips and extends them toward Katniss. It's similar to what the people of District Twelve did when she volunteered to become a tribute. It's a sign of love, of respect, to someone they love. District Eleven is openly expressing that now - their love for Katniss. It's a beautiful sight to see.

I hear a burst of static and quickly realize that they've cut off our microphones. The Mayor hastily tries to regain control of the situation. I'm willing to bet from the Mayor's panicked look and the disconnection of our microphones that this kind of situation is most unexpected and that the officials are desperately trying to stop whatever it is.

"Thank you, Katniss and Peeta, for your kind words!" The Mayor says. "Ladies and gentlemen, a round of applause for the Victors of the Seventy-Fourth Hunger Games!"

The audience claps again, but this time they don't wait for the Peacekeepers to instruct them to do so. I hold the plaque and bouquet in my right hand, put my left hand on the small of Katniss' back and gently guide her inside the building. Katniss stops walking when we're halfway at the verandah, looking dazed.

"Are you all right?" I ask her.

"Just dizzy. The sun was so bright."

She notices the bouquet I'm holding. "I forgot my flowers."

"I'll get them." I tell her, not wanting her to feel unwell again.

"I can." She insists. She doesn't wait for my response and turns around to go back to the stage. The scene that greets us from the crowd halts me in my tracks - the man, the old man who initiated the humming of the mockingjay's tune, is being dragged at the top of the steps into the stage and is forced to kneel in front of the crowd. The Peacekeeper then shoots him in the head and old man crumples on the ground. I didn't know when I decided to do so and I know how unwise it is, but I find myself moving forward towards the man but several Peacekeepers block our view and forces us backwards into the building with their weapons.

"We're going!" I say forcefully, shoving the Peacekeeper who is pressing on Katniss. Her mouth is hanging open and she doesn't bother resisting the Peacekeeper in front of her. "We get it, all right? Come on, Katniss."

I encircle her in my arms in an attempt to protect her and walk hurriedly into the Justice Building. The Peacekeepers leave us as soon as we are safely inside the building and shuts the door behind them. How many more people would be executed because of us? How many innocent people would lose someone they love because we spoke unthinkingly and deviated from the Capitol's scripted version?

Haymitch, Effie, Portia, and Cinna are all gathered in front of a television screen at the building's lobby, but the screen isn't displaying anything anymore. They must have heard the shot.

"What happened?" Effie asks, still blissfully unaware of the growing turmoil outside. "We lost the feed just after Katniss' beautiful speech, and then Haymitch said he thought he heard a gun fire, and I said it was ridiculous, but who knows? There are lunatics everywhere!"

"Nothing happened, Effie. An old truck backfired." I tell her calmly, masking the conflicting thoughts inside me. It's better to keep Effie unaware, and she seems to buy it. One look at the others, however, tell me that they don't buy my rotten explanation. That they know.

Two more shots echo in the room as soon as I said it. Effie screws her face disdainfully. "They must have a lot of old trucks in here!"

"Both of you." Haymitch says urgently, pointing at Katniss and I. "With me." He walks away towards the marble staircase without an explanation to the others, and we both follow wordlessly. He goes through a long hall and enters the first room, which holds our attires for later this evening. We drop our bouquet and plaque at the nearby table then Haymitch silently removes the microphones attached to us and wedges both of it under the couch cushion. Haymitch leaves the room and goes through several sets of staircase and hallways, until we finally climb a ladder that leads to a trapdoor. The room is the dome of the Justice Building, where several broken furniture and other unused stuff are placed. It's easy to tell that it hasn't been visited by anyone for a long time because dust layers every corner in the room, every piece of furniture and material. As soon as Haymitch has secured the trapdoor, he turns to us and asks in a grave voice, "What happened?"

"I don't know, Haymitch. Perhaps you could explain. Everything was flowing smoothly from the program, and then when it's time for Katniss and I to say our speech, we did, and after Katniss spoke - which I assume you saw on TV - an old man started humming a four-note whistle that I think was Rue's, and everyone started putting the three middle fingers of their left hand on their lips and raised it to Katniss. Then they cut off our microphones and the Mayor took over and we were directed to go inside the building. But halfway through, while we were at the verandah, Katniss realized that she forgot to take her flowers at the stage and decided to come back to get it. But we were halted when we saw the Peacekeepers dragging the old man into the top of the stairs and shot him in the head - in front of the entire crowd! What's going on Haymitch? Why did they react so violently?"

"It will be better coming from you." Haymitch says quietly to Katniss.

"It's... it's a lot, Peeta. On the day of our Victory Tour, President Snow personally went to my house to talk to me. He told me about the unrest in the districts because of what I did at the arena, when I brought out the nightlock so we could die together. I knew then that the Gamemakers would someone stop us from eating it, because just like you said, they need to have a victor. Otherwise, the Game would be a failure and the Capitol people would lose interest in it or even protest. President Snow told me that my excuse of being madly in love with you that I'm willing to die as well was believed by those in the Capitol, but not by everyone in the Districts. So there were uprisings. And he had me followed; my every move. He even mentioned seeing Gale kiss me... and threatened me that my family and everyone I care for will be in jeopardy if I don't act accordingly. And now everyone, not just my family, but everyone in the districts is in jeopardy because of me. Because of my impulsive decision."

Her words hung in the air, making me lose my grip on reality again. I have decided to trust her again, but now I find out that I'm being left out of so many important things. It's like as if my opinion doesn't really matter. And why would it?

"I was supposed to fix things on this tour." Katniss continues. "Make everyone who had doubted believe I acted out of love. Calm things down. But obviously, all I've done today is get three people killed, and now everyone in the square will be punished." She sags down on the couch as she finishes, and I stare disbelievingly at her.

"Then I made it worse, too. By giving the money." I say. Anger pulses through me. When will they learn to trust me, to make me part of the team? In a burst of anger, I strike out the lamp sitting on top of a crate and watch as it shatters on the floor. "This has to stop. Right now." I tell them sternly. "This - this - game you two play, where you tell each other secrets but keep them from me like I'm too inconsequential or stupid or weak to handle them."

"It's not like that, Peeta..." Katniss explains in a feeble voice.

"It's exactly like that!" I yell. Somewhere deep inside me I regret shouting at her; it's the most ungentlemanly thing for me to do to someone I love, but the pain and the anger and the disappointment I feel is just too much. How can we be friends when there is no trust? How can we successfully adhere to the demands of the President if the communication is one-sided, and they expect me to keep up with every situation without knowing what is actually happening? What happened at the square is a clear indication that their strategy of keeping things from me is not working, and I know it's only going to get worse. The three people the Peacekeepers mercilessly killed at the square would probably still be alive now if I had known. I have fueled the President's anger; I've made us an easy target. The President would surely be very mad at what we did, and where would that leave us, our loved ones? Didn't Haymitch and Katniss bother to think that I also have a family to protect, a family I care for? "I have people I care about too, Katniss!" I say out loud. "Family and friends back in District Twelve who will be just as dead as yours if we don't pull this thing off. So, after all we went through in the arena, don't I even rate the truth from you?"

Katniss keeps here eyes locked on the floor.

"You're always so reliably good, Peeta." Haymitch interjects. "So smart about how you present yourself before the cameras. I didn't want to disrupt that."

"Well, you overestimated me." I answer bitterly. The guilt about the death of three innocent people haunts me. "Because I really screwed up today. What do you think is going to happen to Rue's and Thresh' families? Do you think they'll get their share of our winnings? Do you think I gave them a bright future? Because I think they'll be lucky if they survive the day!" I smack a statue as my anger gets the better of me again.

"He's right, Haymitch." Katniss says. "We were wrong not to tell him. Even back in the Capitol."

"Even in the arena, you two have some sort of system worked out, didn't you? Something I wasn't part of." I say quietly.

"No. Not officially. I just could tell what Haymitch wanted me to do by what he sent, or didn't send."

"Well, I never had that opportunity. Because he never sent me anything until you showed up."

"Look, boy -" Haymitch begins.

"Don't bother, Haymitch." I cut him sharply. Because I understand. I wanted Katniss to survive the arena. I wanted her to win. But this is different. This is more dangerous than what we experienced in the arena, because it's affecting the people around us as well. "I know you had to choose one of us. And I'd have wanted it to be her. But this is something different. People are dead out there. More will follow unless we're very good. We all know I'm better than Katniss in front of the cameras. No one needs to coach me on what to say. But I have to know what I'm walking into.

"From now on, you'll be fully informed." Haymitch promises.

"I better be." I respond firmly, before leaving the room without even looking at both of them. I walk back into the room where we left our gifts from the District and see Portia and Cinna fixing our wardrobe.

"Oh, there you are!" Portia exclaims. "They've given you a room for prepping. You can go there now to take a shower, then we can get you fixed for the dinner."

I offer her a small smile and follow her instructions to my room. I've worked long enough with Portia for me to notice the tense set of her jaw and her discomfort at the surroundings. They know what really happened at the square, but no one can discuss it here, now. The shower in the room is much less grand than the one in the Capitol and the train, and it comforts me. I let the spray of water take away the anger in my body so that I can be calmer when I face Katniss and Haymitch again.

When I finally leave the shower, I see Haymitch waiting for me in the room.

"Can we talk?" He asks.

"You're already here." I respond. "What is it, Haymitch?"

"I understand where you're coming from, I really do. And I know it's wrong that you were uninformed of the situation. I just thought it would be safer for you if you don't know anything, and anyway you don't need much directing from me."

"Like I said earlier, your plan didn't work out well, did it? I need to be informed, Haymitch. You can't always keep me in the dark, because whether you like it or not, we're a team. I'm in on this. And we have to work together to survive, otherwise, I might make another fatal mistake and another innocent person would be dead just because I didn't know the situation."

"I get that now. But it was wrong of you to speak to Katniss like that. She was only doing what I told her to do, and she's protecting you in her own way."

I sigh. I've realized the mistake I did to her without Haymitch telling me. "I know. I'll apologize later."

Haymitch smiles. "And it's not like you haven't kept things from her before. Remember the interview? We purposely kept things from her to get a genuine reaction from her during the live show."

"Yeah, I know."

"It's the same thing. She was trying to protect you, just as you were trying to protect her."

I sigh. My anger was, I admit, sudden and a bit irrational now that I've calmed down. I should have given her the chance to explain. "I get it. I'll apologize to her."

"Good. I was happy to see you both being comfortable again. I don't want you to go back to that phase where you seem to barely know each other."

"We wouldn't. We've decided to be friends."

"Good. But just know that even Katniss is very blind to her own emotions. She's too caught up in the difficulties of District Twelve and the loss of her father to acknowledge what is in her heart. And she's too stubborn for it."

"If you're saying what I think you're saying, please stop, Haymitch. I don't want to hope, and I'm content to be her friend. If it's all she could give me, then I'm happy that she welcomed me into her life."

Haymitch nods. Someone knocks on the door, and we both look to see who it is. Portia peeks her head in.

"Oh, sorry. I was just checking if you're ready to get dressed now."

"Well, I'll leave you now to prepare. See you both at dinner." Haymitch says and exits the room.

There's not much prepping needed for me today, so Hamish and Serra are able to get their "beauty rest". Portia works silently on me, both of us avoiding the tense conversation that will surely ensue. She dresses me in a tuxedo with a pink bow, which, according to her, will match with Katniss' dress. She leaves me in the room for her own preparations then comes back again so we can go down together at the lobby.

Somewhere at the back of my mind, I realize that aside from being kept in the dark from the team, one of the reasons that contributed to my anger was my jealousy. I remember Katniss' words vividly: "He even mentioned seeing Gale kiss me...". It's irrational to let my jealousy get the better of me, but I'm also morbidly curious if that's the only time that they kissed. From her story, it seems like it is. But I still want to know. I still need to know. If it is, then it's a good thing, isn't it? Because it would be far from my thoughts of the two of them together, alone in the woods where no one could see. Oh, scratch that. The woods is no longer a safe place for them since Katniss became a Victor. I'm sure that it's where it happened, because Katniss would never do that in a place where someone might see, especially because everyone thinks we're the lovers. Someone's obviously lurking around if the President learned of that encounter.

"There you are!" Effie exclaims, distracting me from my thoughts. "I can't wait for this dinner to be over and be back in our train. These people are driving me nuts!"

"What have they done to piss you off, Effie?" I ask her lightly.

"These Peacekeepers are following me everywhere I go! It's totally unacceptable and rude! And then earlier..." Her sentence hangs in the air as her attention drifts to somewhere behind me. "There you are!" She says again. "Okay, now that we're complete, I'll give you a run-through of the schedule. We'll be having dinner in a few minutes at the main hall, where we will enter by group. I'll just arrange you later. You'll have to mingle with the people, especially you Katniss and Peeta, and I'm sure everyone would want to speak with you tonight. And then, thank goodness, we can ll get on that train and get out of here. We'll leave here by ten in the evening so we can be on time for the eleven o'clock departure of the train to District Ten."

"Is something wrong, Effie?" Cinna asks.

"I don't like the way we've been treated. Being stuffed into trucks and barred from the platform. And then, just about an hour ago, I decided to look around the Justice Building. I'm something of an expert in architectural design, you know."

"Oh yes, I've heard that." Portia pipes up.

"So, I was just having a peek around because district ruins are going to be all the rage this year, when two Peacemakers showed up and ordered me back to our quarters. One of them actually poked me with her gun!"

Katniss hugs her - an unusual gesture for her. "That's awful, Effie. Maybe we shouldn't go to the dinner at all. At least until they've apologized."

Effie visibly brightens up at Katniss' words, and I can't help but smile at Katniss' subtle effort to cheer her up. She obviously knows that there is no way that Effie will cancel or be a no-show at an event which they consider to be very important, no matter how harassed and annoyed she feels. Effie replies in a much happier tone, "No, I'll manage. It's part of my job to weather the ups and downs. And we can't let you two miss your dinner. But thank you for the offer, Katniss."

A Peacekeeper approaches us. "Please stand on cue for the entrance."

"There!" Effie says, clapping her hands. "Come, I'll fix the formation for our entrance."

Effie leads us to the huge double doors of the dining hall and directs us all to stand in a line. She completely ignores the Peacekeepers shadowing us, flicking her fingers every now and then. The prep teams stand first in line, then asks Cinna and Portia to leave a space in front of them for her. Haymitch follows our stylists, then Katniss and I.

"Okay, everyone. Listen - give the persons in front of you a fifteen-step lead before you enter. Fifteen steps, okay? Pay attention!"

"Noted, Effie!" Hamish exclaims.

"Oh, shush! There's no one in front of you. You'll start walking as soon as I tell you to."

Portia and Cinna laughs. "Fifteen steps, Effie." Portia reiterates.

"How 'bout you stand on your position now?" Haymitch suggests. "Fifteen steps. Why does it have to be fifteen, anyway?"

"Because fifteen steps will allow the persons in front to have their own spot in the limelight. It's enough time - not too short and not too long, and that way, our procession would look continuous."

"You might have an obsessive-compulsive disorder, girl." Haymitch counters.

"Don't call me a girl! For your information, I am a woman. There is a whole world of difference."

They continue bickering until the music begins to play inside the dining hall. Effie gives the signal for the prep team to start moving. I look at Katniss who seems to be uncomfortable again, then take her hand in mine. We have a role to play.

"Haymitch says I was wrong to yell at you." I begin. "You were only operating under his instructions. And it isn't as if I haven't kept things from you in the past."

"I think I broke a few things myself after that interview." She replies with a sad smile.

"Just an urn."

"And your hands. There's no point to it anymore, though, is there? Not being straight with each other?"

"No point." I reply. We move forward as the others enter the dining hall, waiting for Haymitch to complete his allotted fifteen steps before we come in. I decide to take this opportunity to ask her what had been bothering me most since she told me the story - Gale. Asking her now would force her to answer immediately, and we would not have enough awkward moment in case, because we would have to move forward already.

"Was that really the only time you kissed Gale?"

Katniss looks at me with a startled expression. "Yes."

I smile. That's good, the inner part of me thinks. "That's fifteen. Let's do it." I say. A spotlight focuses on us and we both smile as we begin walking. Already, I feel much, much better than I did earlier.