-Rachel:
The next morning I sit at our table in the dining room with Saga and Ginger.
"Now remember, impress the gamemakers, surprise them." I instruct.
"Yes, if you give them something that will make them think you can actually give them a good show, than you'll get a higher score." Haymitch backs up my statement
"A good show?" Ginger repeats.
"Yeah, that's what this is, a show. A deadly television show for their entertainment." My father snaps, I know how strongly he feels about this. So when Saga and Ginger look to me, I grin and nod.
"It's a fucking entertainment show." I agree.
"That's reassuring." Saga laughs, I smile at him.
"Sure is."
As my tributes are taken back for their private sessions I decide to go for a walk. I have time, after sessions they go directly to stylists to get prepped for interviews. And I'm not due to see Zapher until after interviews tonight. Before I walk out I take Haymitch's knife that he always carries. I think I know why he always has it now, but now I need one. I put the long bladed knife in my back pocket and walk out into the busy streets of the Capital.
My shirt covers the knife, so I don't need to worry about being stopped by peacekeepers. Hopefully I can make it to the library before someone with a camera shows up.
Luckily I do, I go to the top floor of the library, no one else really goes up here. It was always one of my favorite places. I go and sit down on a leather couch and sink into it. Wonderful, now I finally get to be alone without any chance that another victor will find me. Really Finnick is the only other victor who's been up here, and we're still pissed at each other, so he won't be coming. That's good, cause I'm not talking to him for a while.
I end up taking out the knife and running the flat side of the blade along my hands. It's a very nice knife really. The hand carved wooden handle has intricate designs on it, apparently Haymitch did it himself. The blade is five inches long and is serrated just along the tip. It could do a lot of damage, if I wanted it to, but to someone who doesn't know how to properly use a knife to kill someone, it would be worthless.
I'm not sure how long I really stay up in the attic of the library, but when I make it back to the tower, it's almost time for interviews. I go off and find Saga and Ginger sitting at a table by themselves, I invite myself over and take a seat between them.
"So, Saga I think it will be better for you if you appear tough, you can pull that off." I'm more telling him than suggesting this.
He just nods.
"Ginger, appear, oh I don't know, how about humble?"
"Humble?" she clearly has never heard this word before.
"Yes, like you can't believe you're here and you just love everything about the Capital." I hear my father say from behind. I get up and give him a hug, slipping the knife back into his pocket. He grins; "thanks" he knows I put his knife back.
"Anytime" I grin.
"Okay, I guess I can do that." Ginger says with confidence, I feel really bad that by this time tomorrow she will most likely just be dead.
"Good, I'll leave you guys with Haymitch, I've got to change." I stand up and make my way to the elevator.
Once I'm in my room I find a dress laid out on the bed, there's a note with it.
"Thought I'd help you out, I miss not being your stylist. ~Cinna"
I smile as I slip into the silky black dress. Accents of red and gold run down the sides, it could be seen as just a beautiful dress. But it can also be looked at as a dress of someone still mourning the loss of someone they love.
I sit next to Haymitch as the lights dim down and Caesar Flickerman takes the stage for interviews to begin. Haymitch puts one hand on my leg, I don't flinch away, this is how we're supposed to look when we sit together in the Capital. Like the famous father-daughter victor pair. I feel a pair of eyes on me and look to see Finnick watching me, I scowl at him and refocus my attention back to the stage, where the girl from District One has taken the spotlight.
I barely listen to any of the interviews, I'm mostly counting on Effie to take notes, she did last year, and the year before that, and the year before that. But I do make note of the boy from five; he looks deadly and earned himself an eleven in training.
Than Ginger walks out onto the stage, looking stunning in a red dress that matches her hair color. She plays her act of appearing humble perfectly, but she will not be remembered, only earning a six in training. I had been hoping for at least a seven.
Than Saga walks out, gasps from the crowd. Portia has made him look absolutely stunning, handsome, and deadly. His black suit makes his shoulders look even broader than they are, and he stands way taller than Caesar. He doesn't smile, not once during his interview. He responds with yes and no answers, but he lets a small grin cross his face when they announce his score of ten. Yes Saga, you will get sponsors if you survive the bloodbath. I think hopefully. I just hope he does survive the next day.
Three hours later I walk back into the training tower, I cradle my arm. Zapher twisted it; it had felt like he was going to snap it off. I had been used again, and I felt sick, I felt like a slut. I wince as I try and straiten my arm to press the elevator button; I end up just using my other arm. I look behind me, feeling I'm being watched.
Finnick sits in a chair, the back propped up in a darker corner of the room where I wouldn't see him when I walked in. He watches me; I give him the death stare and lift up the side of my shirt, revealing a long black bruise with a cut at the top, blood slowly streams out from it.
His eyes widen, I cover it back up as a ding tells me the elevator is here. I'm still mad at Finnick, furious at him. For thinking that I can just put the past in the past. No, I can't, and every time with Zapher will remind me, every time that boy grabs me and uses me. I shudder as his voice comes back to me with what he said before letting me go.
I have some friends who would love to meet you. Maybe I'll let them get to know you, I mean, they knew Cato as well.
I don't want to meet his friends, because I know they're bitches, like him. I know they'll use me, like he does.
I go right to my room and turn on the shower. I put my arm underneath the warm water and let it soak, slowly the muscles relax and I can move my arm with only a little pain. I stand under the warm running water, letting it soak through my clothes and wash away the blood. I hate sex. I decide, it's painful, it hurts, and I feel like it'll kill me.
After I get out of the shower and change I climb into my bed. That's when the door opens, I watch as a figure comes in and sits on the bed.
"I don't want to talk to you." I grumble, thinking it's Finnick since he's the one who has the extra key to my room.
"Oh, sorry" Haymitch says
"Oh, no stay, I thought you were Finnick." I quickly apologize and sit up in bed.
"That's one of the things I wanted to talk to you about, what happened? You didn't talk to each other at all, and you just kept giving him death glares."
"We just had a fight."
"Over what?"
"Nothing big," I lie
"Rachel, of course it's big, you've talked to Finnick every second you can for the past six years of your life and now you don't even smile at him. What was it about?"
"The Games, he said to put it behind me, that the past is the past. But he doesn't understand I can't do that! I killed people, I murdered people. When I told him that he still said I should just pretend it never happened. But I can't do that either because of Peeta." My voice cracks as I explain and I feel Haymitch's arms go around me gently.
"I know, he just wants to see the old you again, but that will never happen, not completely." Haymitch understands, of course he does, he always understands me.
"What was the other thing you wanted to talk about?" I ask softly
Haymitch gets right to the point, "You realize they both could be dead tomorrow."
"Yeah, I know, Ginger will be, Saga, well I don't know about him."
"Good, sleep well okay?"
"I'll try too."
-Finnick:
He hurt her. Not as bad as before but he did. I can't believe he did, how can he hurt her, does he even have a soul?
I lay in bed thinking all of these things. She's still mad at me, no, she's still furious at me, for what I said. After thinking about it I understand that she was right, she always is. She can't forget those Games; she would rather die than forget that boy.
I shudder as I think of what tomorrow holds for me. My tributes, who are both surely bloodbath deaths, will go into the arena and die. Then, at night, I get to go to that hotel. Sleep with some rich Capital woman, why? Because I have too, just like Rachel does. Only with me it's a different person every time. It's not so bad anymore for me; I guess I would be used to it after nine years of forced prostitution.
I wish I could help her, protect her from Zapher. If I could, I'd kill him. But then that would only hurt her in the end too, and that can't happen. I care about her, a lot. I picture her face in my head and I feel the smile that spreads across my face. That's when it hits me, things change, I know that.
But now I realize. I do love her, I do love her. I love her more than I did before. I love her as a person now, I want to hold her, hug her, kiss her even. She means more to me than just an adopted sister. She means the world.