Is Cara asking me out? I'm probably overreacting, she's by far the hottest girl in the whole district, and we have some very good-looking girls. And I'm just me. I really need to work on my confidence, I am Finnick Odair, sex god. I should start acting like it. I smile and respond, "Nothing, at the moment. Why, do you want to do something?" I'd like to be doing you.

There's a pause on her side of the line, and she takes a sharp inhale of breath. "Um, they're showing an old movie at the pier around 8. Do you wanna go with me? I was thinking we could grab some food before or something." She sounds nervous. I grin at the thought that I make Cara Hill nervous.

"Cara. Are you asking me on a date?" I ask her playfully, grinning through the phone.

"Uh, yeah. Um, you know what? Never mind. I actually have plans, I have to go. Bye." She says quickly, hanging up on her end. That was weird, to say the least. I guess, if she wants to hang out, she'll call again or something. Girls are too confusing.

I get a sinking feeling in my chest. Here I am, almost planning a date with a girl I've talked to maybe three times, when I should be visiting Annie's mother, she could have died while I was in the Capitol. Also, Annie's been on my mind for weeks on end, so why haven't I gone to see her? I decide to get up and walk the short distance to their house. I knock on the door, and a few moments later I'm greeted with a squeal. Annie swings open the door, and wraps her arms around me tightly. I'm engulfed in her arms, and thick brown hair that smells like the beach. It feels so warm and nice, and I finally feel at home. I know I won't be the first to let go.

After a few moments, Annie lets go, and opens the door fully so we both can walk in. We sit down on the couch, Annie clutching a mug of tea. I plop myself down next to her. This really feels like my second home. "I missed you so much, Finn. How was the Capitol?"

"It was alright." I lie. It was terrible. "I'd prefer to be here any day, but you know that. It's just so... freaky. You know how they dress with the weird colored skin and clothing, and surgeries. It's creepy." Annie nods in understanding, and strokes my cheek sympathetically. The small touch makes my skin tingle with electricity. "I really missed you. You have no idea."

"Actually, I do." She tells me, taking a sip of her drink.

"Oh!" I say, remembering what I got Annie. "I brought you a movie. You know the tapes that they let us bring home from school? Well in the Capitol, they make up stories and turn them into videos that you watch for fun. "This one's about a mermaid. They make it on computers, and it's called a cartoon or something. I thought that you'd like it."

Annie's face lights up, and she jumps out of her chair, almost spilling her tea. "We should watch it right now!" I can't help but laugh at her enthusiasm, and I put the movie in the box that plays them on Annie's small television. District 4 gives a TV to everyone free of charge, so we can see all mandatory viewings without leaving our home. But only the ones in the Victor's Village have access to Capitol channels and shows. We sit down on the couch, and the movie starts.

The Little Mermaid, what the movie's called, is actually pretty good. There's a mermaid with blood red hair that wants to be a human. She sings a lot, and it's cute. Annie curls up on the couch, and puts her head on my shoulder. She usually does this, but for some reason I notice it a bit more than usual, and I can't help but think about it. Is it a friendly thing, or does she do it romantically? I really won't ever know. I know I like Annie, but I still haven't figured out to what extent. It's all really confusing to me. A lobster sings a song about kissing a girl, and I can't help but smile a little. My eyes are drawn to Annie's heart-shaped lips. They're perfectly reddish-pink, without makeup like the other girls use. They cover their eyes in black, and make their lips unnatural shades of pink and red. Annie doesn't need that. She's perfect without it. I want to say beautiful, but the word feels foreign on my tongue. So I just glue my eyes to the screen and don't move them off until the credits roll.

Annie sits up and yawns, stretching her arms. "That was really good. I like it a lot. Thanks, Finn."

"Of course! Anytime." I look at the clock on the television box. It's almost nine thirty. "Shoot. It's late. I should get going." I stand up to hug Annie, and she wraps her arms around my waist. Her hugs are warm, and her hair smells like fruit. Her lips graze my cheek, and it takes an inhuman amount of restraint to not turn my head and kiss her. I can't. Annie doesn't feel that way about me, and she's my best friend. If I told her how I felt, things would get awkward, to say the least. I won't let that happen.

When I get home, Adrienne is on the couch in her pajamas, reading some heavily worn book. She's had it for a while, and I've seen her reading it for years. I don't see the appeal. After I read a book once, I just can't read it again. It lost the surprise: you know what happens at the end. "What is that?" I ask her, sitting down on the couch. "I always see you reading it, but I don't know what it even is."

Adrienne dog-ears the page she's reading and closes the book, putting it on her lap. "I stole a bunch of Juliette's trashy Capitol books when she first moved in. I thought it would be adventurous. For all that they do, the writers actually are pretty creative, and they seem to be passionate. I like a lot of them, but this one's my clear favorite. You should read it sometime. It's about a very poor girl who has to resort to prostitution to feed her family. She also keeps it a secret from them, since she's ashamed even though she's only doing what she has to. It's sad but it's... touching. I could never imagine having to take on such a burden at such a young age – the main character's sixteen."

I could imagine that, very easily. I don't know if prostitution is the right word. I'm not doing this because I want to, or because I need the money, I only do it because I have to. Still, it actually sounds like a pretty good book. "Yeah, I'll have to read it sometime." I agree. And I will.

I pull myself up the stairs, and throw my clothes on the floor. I crawl into bed in my boxers without even bothering to wash my face or anything. I'm exhausted. I have nothing to do, and at the same time I'm always so overwhelmed. I just need a good night's sleep. Easier said than done.

My nightmare is different tonight. I dream that I'm lying down on what must be a bed or a couch. I'm not restrained, but for some reason I can't sit up. Or move at all for that matter. Twelve ghost-like figures (presumably of the twelve people I've killed) come through the floorboards, and slowly kill everyone I care about – Dad, Adrienne, baby Dahlia, Annie, Grant, Natalie, Blight and Johanna. I'm helpless through all of it, and it's terrifying. There needs to be some way to make it stop. I just want to sleep like I used to. Even a few hours of dreamless sleep would be enough.

I decide to get some air to clear my head. I walk outside, and Natalie's light's on. She's sitting in her front yard, smoking. She blows a puff of smoke into the air and coughs. She sees me, and waves a gloved hand. I walk over. "What's that for?" I ask about the glove. She only has one on.

"Smoke kind of lingers on you... it's gross. You can't scrub it off your hands." Natalie explains. She pushes it down on a metal plate, and then tosses it into a trash can. She takes off the glove, and hands it to me. "See, smell it. It smells, and my hands don't. That's also why I wear a lot of scarves. Well, it's also for the hickeys."

"You're an adult though. Why does it matter?" I ask her.

"The Capitol... you don't want to trust them with these kinds of things. If you ever have a long lasting, loving relationship, keep it out of the press' eyes. Not even hand-holding in public. They'll use it against you in a second. Don't even tell a trustworthy Capitol person, because really none of them are. It's not worth it. They won't know we're together until we get married, if it comes to that." Natalie explains. She looks up and looks me dead in the face. "If you only remember one thing I tell you, remember that. Seriously. They will crush you, or even worse, crush them."

I know she's trying to help, but it sounds threatening and kind of scary. On an impulse, I ask her, "Can I have one of those – one of your cigarettes?"

Natalie raises an eyebrow at me, clearly not expecting me to ask that. I wasn't expecting myself to ask that. She sighs, and mumbles fuck it. "I guess you can. But do you really want to start something that's this hard to quit. There are health risks, and quite a few. It makes it hard to breathe. And it's expensive. But, I guess. It's up to you."

"Why'd you start?" I ask her.

"It calms me down. After my games, I was a mess." She admits sheepishly, as if it's something to be ashamed of. We all are. "Anyways, I'm calmer, I can think more, and I even sleep through the night sometimes."

"Alright." I say. "So, like how do I do this?"

Natalie winces, and bites down on her lip. "Finn, I can't do this. I'm sorry. Look, you're just... too good. I can't ruin you like this." She stands up and gives me a hug. "I'm sorry, but I'm really not. I'm your mentor, and I need to make sure you make good choices. This isn't one of them. I'm sorry." She kisses my forehead, and wraps her robe around her body, walking inside. I sigh, and lean back on the chair on her porch, and stare at the stars. All of the lights in the village are off, except for a dull light in my window.

I wonder what life was like, before the dark days. Why did we rebel against the Capitol anyways? I don't even know what they did that the people didn't like. I wonder if it was even worth rebelling – since now there's the Games and other terrible things. The Capitol also probably overreacted a bit with the whole 'fight to the death thing'. It doesn't seem necessary. I guess I'll ask Mags, since she was a toddler when all of that happened. Surely, she has to know. But that will wait until morning. I should at least go back inside. *

I get the phone call the next morning around eleven. It takes me a few minutes to realize where it's coming from, so I don't pick it up that quickly. "Hello?" I yawn, rubbing my eyes. Even when I don't have school, I hate Mondays.

"Finnick? This is Ms. Ryans. From District 4's Excellence program. As you may know, the first day of school was a few weeks ago, and we were wondering if you would be interested in teaching our class of twelve year olds. It's Monday through Thursday from one to three in the afternoon, most weeks. We'd pay you a small sum-"

"I'll take it." I shush her. Ms. Ryans was my History/District Studies teacher (there's less than a hundred years we actually study, so calling it history seems wrong). She's prone to rambling. "I'll be at the school by twelve thirty. See you soon." I say, hanging up quickly.

The Excellence program is basically Career training. We're a little better about it than Districts 1 and 2. We teach them survival skills, and how to use weapons. We don't turn them into volunteers, we just give them a better chance at living. We almost always make it to the Top 8 every year, which is a lot more than most districts can say. I know a lot of people view it as cheating. But wouldn't you want to give your kids the best chance of possibly coming home? I would.

Then again, I haven't seen my parents at all. I'm beginning to think that they don't want to see me. After the games, they've been distant. Or, I could be distancing myself. I don't even know. I'm scared that they see me as the monster I really am. Am I even still my dad's son? I don't talk to Adrienne nearly as much as I used to. Then again, what do I have to talk about? School? Nope. The Games? Nope. Neither of us can ever be reaped again. Thank god. I have Annie. I have Adrienne to some extent, and while I really don't have parents, I have Mags, Natalie and Grant. And they're right outside my door. That's all I need. I'll be okay.

I meet Ms. Ryans in front of the school half an hour before the twelve year-olds have their class. Twelve, thirteen, and fourteen year olds get basic training. After that, you find your specialty, or whatever it is that you're good at, and you just focus on that. There's ten of us helping the kids in ten of the areas: finding food and water, making a shelter, making fire, hand-to-hand combat, using swords, throwing and cutting knives, spears, axes and bows, and my favorite: tridents. It's terrible and almost sickening I have a favorite weapon, but that's just the world we live in.

There's 200 twelve year-olds in District 4, so each of us have twenty people to teach. I'm given the trident group, which is a fantastic decision. I'll work with them until the end of the week, and then the group will move onto the next section. They pay me a lot for District 4. Each 'week', which is really only twelve hours of showing kids how to use weapons, I get what my dad would make in a real 7-day week. And we were pretty well-to-do. Then again, most of District 4 lives comfortably. Food on the table, clean clothes and proper-fitting shoes. We're really lucky. I remember all of the small kids running around District 12 when I was there a year ago for my victory tour. Over there, they literally die of starvation. It's terrible.

Ms. Ryans gets all of the twelve year olds to sit down on the floor in the gym-like area. It reminds me of the training center. She quickly briefs them on what this is, and why we do it, and how it shouldn't be discussed outside of school, even though yes the parents know about it. Everyone knows we aren't supposed to be doing this, but nobody talks about it, or stops it. It's kind of weird. I don't question. She points to the different stations and introduces all of the "teachers" and what they'll be helping with. When she gets to me, I give a small wave, and all the girls start whispering amongst themselves. Great. I can't escape being adored, even at home. I know, I should love it. But it's kind of annoying. You get sick of the attention really quickly.

Ms. Ryans separates the kids into groups, and my first group comes over. There's about an even number of boys and girls. They all sit down on the mat by my feet. "Hey. I'm Finnick Odair, but you guys probably knew that." I say, introducing myself. There are a few giggles from some of the girls. I have to bite my tongue to stop from rolling my eyes.

I suck it up and continue. "I won the 65th Hunger Games. You guys have to worry about being reaped for the next few years. If you do get reaped, I'll get to know you better. But first, some advice. Don't get tessarae if you don't need it. You don't want to be reaped. I know by the time you're seventeen or eighteen, you'll think you have a pretty good chance of winning, and maybe you wanna bring pride to your district. But you could have some insane competition from Districts 1 and 2. But you also have to worry about the odd one. There could be a tribute from... oh, I don't know, District 6. He or she could be amazing, and you wouldn't have expected that when you volunteered. Like this year. A girl Stephanie volunteered. She was very good, but other people were better. And she didn't win. Think of how you would feel if that happened to your sister or brother, or a friend. It won't be fun. Don't get cocky."

"In this station, you'll be learning about tridents. I used one to win my Games. I was... particularly bloody with it. But you could easily win with less death on your hands, on the off-chance you were reaped. I wouldn't worry too much. There's two thousand different names in the reaping bowl, and the older kids have their names in a lot more. The odds are in your favor." I pick up a trident from the table behind me. "Does anyone here have any idea how to use this?" A girl from the back of the cluster stands up, and looks around sheepishly. I extend my hand to her. "Tell me. What can I use a trident for. Besides stabbing people."

Her eyes widen at my blunt statement. She tucks a strand of her dark hair behind her ear. It's hard to imagine that she's only three – almost four years younger than me. She seems so young, so innocent. "Well, you can use it to catch fish, like spear fishing?" She says, her voice going up at the end of the sentence, as if she's asking me for reassurance.

I nod at her. "Very good. What's your name?"

"Amanda. People call me Mandy."

"Okay Mandy. Very good. Can you show me how you would hold the trident?" I hand it to her. She picks it up and holds it awkwardly. "I don't know if that's quite right. Does anyone else want to try?" Nobody volunteers. "Okay then. You want to hold it overhand, like this. And if you were to stab something, or rather, someone, it would be like this." I stab a mannequin, similar to the ones from the training center. A couple people gasp. "It's not scary." I point to a proud-looking boy, whispering to one of his friends. "You, come up here. You seem to think you know what you're doing. Go on, stab it in the chest."

He looks down, and stands up, His friend hoots and laughs a little. "Like this?" He asks me.

"You seem to think you know, don't you? Try it." I smirk a little. After a few grasps, he stabs it in what would be a perfect hit."

"Good job!" I praise him. "You would have done a lot better if you listened. Peter, is it?" I ask him, looking at a sticker with his name on his shirt. He nods. "Sit down." I tell him. This isn't that bad at all. It's almost... rewarding. I get to help these kids, and give them a chance. And the only reason that I'm helpful is because I was in the games. Finally, I feel like this might have a positive consequence, even if it's not on me.

The next few months fly by. I'm usually working at the school (sometimes even helping kids extra on my own time), playing cards with Grant and Natalie, or at Annie's house when she's free. I fish a lot, and I'm on the beach or in the pool most mornings. I've talked to dad a little, I visit for dinner every Sunday night. I still am slightly bitter to Juliette, but not without reason. I'm teaching Dahlia new things, and she's even reading the toddler books I got her from the Capitol. I don't see Adrienne as much – she's been working full-time, and she got a boyfriend. He's really nice, but I haven't met him yet. I've been talking to Mags a lot more often. She writes poetry in her spare time, and I love to read it. Johanna calls every once in a while, when she can't fall asleep after a nightmare.

My sixteenth birthday finally rolls around. Annie makes me a collage of photos of us we've taken on a disposable camera. Adrienne and I drink part of a bottle of wine. She doesn't really like the idea of me drinking since she still sees me as a little kid, but she doesn't stop me. Grant and Natalie throw a small party for me (it's just the three of us, so it's not much of a party). Haymitch calls and says he'll have Johanna give me a bottle of his favorite whiskey when she comes through for the Victory Tour. Blight mails me a card. Johanna just says 'happy birthday', nothing special. I kind of wish she would have gotten me something. There's nothing that I want or need, but still I like the idea that she'd care enough about me to buy me something.

At the half-way mark between the 66th and 67th Hunger Games, there's a large celebration, and the Victory tour begins. There's a huge party in the Capitol, and Juliette (apparently) spends the whole night sobbing on the couch. I wish I saw her cry. That would bring me some type of sick satisfaction, and I don't even regret saying that. Johanna slowly makes her way through the Districts, optional viewing for her speeches. Of course, I watch. I get a call from none other than the lovely President Snow that I'll be joining Johanna's train, and spending two weeks in the Capitol. Natalie and Grant won't be there. As sad as it is, and as much as I'm dreading the time I'll spend there, I'm excited to be there with Johanna.

The day before Johanna's supposed to arrive, I spend all my time with Annie. She may be (almost) fourteen, and while that's about two years younger than me, but she's still my best friend. For some reason, I just feel weird telling her how I feel about Johanna. Especially since I'm not quite sure how I feel about her myself. There's so much I can't tell Annie. She thinks I'm going to the Capitol to meet with the stylists, so we can discuss style options for the tribute parade in the next Games. If only that were true.

I can't sleep that night. But it's really alright. I'm so nervous I don't even get nightmares. And if I do, I don't remember them, or notice I have them, which is really just as good. I wake up around nine, which is pretty early for me. I wake up around eleven since I have nowhere to go. There's a loud commotion in the town square, which is a five minute walk from the Victor's Village.

She's here.

A/N: How was that? If you liked it, make sure to review. I kind of sped through that awkward period when Finnick's not in the Capitol, since this is a Finnick/Johanna story, and there's not much to write about when they're not interacting.

I think I'm going to put this on hiatus for a few weeks. I really need to put my grades/schoolwork first, and so I'm only gonna work on this fic's counterpart: Secrets. Also the writing'll be a little better when I'm not as rushed to meet a word count per week.

Check it out if you haven't read it yet!

As always, feel free to PM me if you have any questions /comments. :)