Finnick makes his debut in this chapter, so exciting! Hope you like it; if you do, please let me know.
Chapter Two
The next few days pass by in a blur, thanks to being pretty drugged up on medicine; when I come to for brief intervals, I feel like the feral boy from District 8 - just another person I killed – the memory causing me to scream and eventually, they sedate me with more drugs. Eventually, I discover that all of my injuries are healed completely. Any scars I had vanished without a trace so that I look my absolute best. The Capitol medical staff is certainly to thank for these feats.
I try to block out the Victor's Ceremony where we sit there and rehash the entire 67th Games, which forces me to watch the "highlights". I do my best to smile when all I want to do is crawl into my bed, wrap myself in the duvet and fall asleep for about a month. I try not to scream in horror when I watch myself kill a tribute. At the end where Moarey almost kills me, I barely even recognize myself – I look like death warmed over. The image causes my last meal to almost make a reappearance all over the stage and Caesar Flickerman.
It would sound pathetic and not very "victor worthy" so I don't say it, but all I can think about is that I wish all of the dead tributes would magically appear - that it was all an illusion that they had been killed. No one's families and friends deserve to mourn the loss of their loved ones like this.
It makes me feel sick to my stomach as I'm treated like some wonderful hero. All I did was outlast 23 other young people in a fight to the death. I killed some other young people. I did it to stay alive, yes, but I don't deserve to be hero worshiped.
I also try to block out the bit where President Snow places a crown on my head and says some meaningless drivel meant to sound lovely but comes across as poison to my ears. I suppress a shudder when his eyes, which have a snake-like quality to them, meet mine.
The Capitol is so warped, I think once the "festivities" conclude, as I finally board my train that will take me happily back to District 3, where I will get to live in Victor's Village with my family and my wealth, plus now I'll be free from the Games for the rest of my life.
Immediately, after thinking those thoughts, I scold myself. I'll never truly be free from the Games. Next year, I'll have mentor 2 more young people from the district and try to do everything I can to keep them alive.
There's no use trying to convince myself that I won't have to do much mentoring. I'm the newest victor, plus I'm young and pretty, while Wiress and Beetee are considered pretty weird by the Capitol, so I could see them pushing whichever of those two I'd mentor with to the background. Our other victors are either considered mentally unstable (which gives them a pass from mentoring) or are deceased. Snow will make sure I'm in the spotlight. It's what he does – the newest and best looking victors are always mentors for the next few Games. Many of them spend much of their time in the Capitol filming various propaganda to get everyone "excited" about the upcoming Games; the very thought of doing that myself sickens me. Imagine willingly spending time with those strange Capitolites! I shudder and hope that Snow doesn't request much of my time be spent there.
The next six months go by without too much fanfare, except for the minor parties and dinners thrown in my honor as the newest victor. The best moments are the Parcel Days, which happen on the first of each month: In honor of winning, many food items are dropped off from the Capitol, delighting the children, especially the less fortunate ones. My parents and I move to the Victor's Village with Wiress and Beetee as neighbors as well as the two other living victors and their families who are supporting them in their mentally unstable old age.
I go back to school for something to do, since now I'll never have to actually work, but soon discover things will never be quite the same for me here. A few of the kids treat me as though I'm a Capitolite, myself. Every now and then, I catch people glancing at me and occasionally, I hear them mentioning me behind my back, which makes my stomach twist. I had been so sure I'd be able to go back to a normal life!
My friends don't treat me any differently, thankfully, but ask me questions about what it was like there and why I wouldn't want to go back.
"Because, it's just fake and weird and no one there looks normal," I answer one of my closest friend's questions about why I prefer it here. "They have too much time on their hands. Some of them dye their skin to look like the sun. You're telling me you would want to spend time with people like that?"
She shakes her head. "No, I guess not. I just thought the Capitol was glamorous and you know, something different from here. I'm just sick of never seeing anything else besides District 3."
I bite back the scathing comment about if she goes into the Games next year then she'll definitely see more than District 3 and she can see for herself just how glamorous the Capitol truly is. Instead I say, "Well, just be glad you're safe in District 3."
"Unless I get reaped in the next two years," she replies with a scowl.
"I hope that doesn't happen," I reply.
As the days go by, I get closer to what I'm truly dreading which is the Victory Tour. I'd thought before winning the Hunger Games that going into the actual Games would be the hardest thing I could ever do, but the thought of having to go to each district and utter condolences to families who will never see their sons or daughters again is sickening. What good are a few pathetic words when I'll never be able to bring their children back to them? I'm responsible for some of their deaths; how do I even begin to offer words of regret for killing them?
However, the more you dread something approaching, the quicker it does. I turn seventeen in the meantime and soon after, it's time for my three week trip around Panem.
We begin with a trip to District 12. I barely knew their tributes. The empty words Sella insists I read off a card come across every bit as hollow as I expect them to. When the district claps for me, I imagine they wish I would drop dead and the harder they clap, the more likely it'll happen.
How am I supposed to get through this trip? I think miserably as I cry alone in my bed on the train.
For the past six months, I'd only had a few nightmares about my time in the arena, but now that I'm getting this experience dredged up again, that night I have a vivid nightmare of the two tributes from District 12. It's as though they've become a two headed monster. They dump a bucket of fire ants on me and cackle at me as I scream in pain.
I awaken, realizing that I screamed myself awake. Wiress knocks on my door and when I tell her to come in, she asks if I'm ok. I cry out that I had a nightmare so she sits down on the edge of my bed and confesses softly that she has nightmares even now, all these years later.
"They never go away?" I ask, my lower lip trembling.
She shakes her head. "Unfortunately, no, Aurie. It truly helps to talk..." She pats my back and asks if I'll be ok now and I nod uncertainly and she leaves the room.
Unwilling to go back to sleep, I stare out the window as we whip by the area between districts and watch the sun rise.
The tour through the districts is like a living nightmare. I do my best to try to be as supportive as I can be, but seeing as I can't even go to the grieving families and hug them, I feel completely useless. Sella scolds me and tells me that I'm to enjoy my time as I've earned my time in the spotlight. She tells me that I need to enjoy the feasts provided for me. With those comments, I stalk out of the dining car and take a seat in my room, feeling truly disgusted with anything and everything to do with the Capitol.
They. Are. Vile. I think in anger as I grind my teeth and refuse to look at Sella for the next couple of districts.
Beetee tells me that I need to apologize to Sella because she is sure to mention my behavior to President Snow if I keep being so angry and sullen.
This alarms me. Snow scares me; anyone who allows 24 young people to fight to the death is a man worth fearing, especially when I remember those snake like eyes. So, I apologize to Sella. She accepts my apology and tells me that she'll forgive me, considering I'm a moody teenager with hormones and says that all girls get like that at some point.
I try not to laugh at the ridiculousness of that statement. Sure, every teenager snips at their parents at some point but for her to equate my anger with teenage hormones might be the most outrageous thing I've ever heard in my life.
Beetee stares into my eyes, boring into them hard; silently willing me to keep my mouth shut and behave. So, I do for the remainder of the trip, until we reach the Capitol, where Sella promises the party will be the best I've ever seen and it's all in my honor. Like, I'm supposed to be excited about that or something.
"This means you have to be on your best behavior and be as gracious as you can possibly be," Beetee says seriously. "Snow will be watching. He may even speak with you if he deems it necessary."
I nod. "Got it, Beetee."
"See that you do, Aurie," he replies in a low voice and we head to the tribute center. My stomach flip-flops, remembering just six months ago when 24 people, their mentors and their escorts all stayed here. Now, it's vacant except for me, Beetee, Wiress and Sella. I involuntarily shudder, imagining the dead tributes rising from their graves (which are probably underneath this building, wouldn't that be an ironic end to their lives?) to strangle me in the night.
The next few hours are spent being fussed over by the prep team (who I hadn't had to deal with on the tour, just my stylist, Pietra, which was somewhat of a relief) in the Remake Center who stress over me failing to keep my nails as nice as they'd like. They aren't too pleased that my hair is no longer tamed the way they had it at the Victor's Ceremony. Nor are they happy that all of my body hair has grown back. As if I would willingly subject myself to waxing!
I grit my teeth as they fuss over every bit of me and stifle screams from another painful encounter with body wax.
Pietra dresses me in a tight deep green dress that makes me appear that I have way more cleavage than I actually do. At the waist, the dress fans out a little bit and stops mid-thigh. I haven't felt so uncomfortable since the time she put me in a dress this short for the Victor's Ceremony. She places me in 3 inch heels that match the dress and smiles at her finished job. I hate feeling so exposed. I'm only 17, not 27, but I feel like they're all trying to make me look 10 years older than I actually am.
Then, we leave the tribute center and soon arrive at Snow's mansion for, as Sella says, "the party of the year." Yeah, I suppose for her it is, especially for the first time since she became a District 3 escort, she actually has a victor.
We head inside where many people cheer at just the sight of me. A few excited young ladies (maybe a few years younger than me) reach for my hand. I reach out and touch them, making them jump up and down in utter bliss. It's a completely bizarre experience, especially contrasted with the reactions I got from every single district.
Once we're inside, we're placed at a table and served plate after plate of food. It's delicious and though I try to pace myself and only eat a few bites from everything I see, I'm soon full. As I sit back in my chair and groan, one of the members of the prep team, named Tibirius, hands me a glass and tells me it'll make it easier to eat additional food.
Ingenious, I think and press the glass to my lips, but before I can drink the liquid, he says with wide eyes that I shouldn't do that here, because I'll be sick all over the floor.
Disgusted, I set the glass down. Who could be so demented as to drink something so that they could throw up all the food they just ate so that they could eat more? Send the food to the districts and give it to the poor who barely get enough to eat, or maybe don't even get enough to eat.
Before much longer, a few gentlemen ask to dance with me. I accept, and dance with them and try not to yawn from their dull banter. I honestly could not care less about what happened on the Capitol programs from the night before and I'm disgusted when they mention the money they won from bets they placed on me winning the Games.
Finally, I'm able to plead exhaustion and I head back to the table, when Sella appears with a smile on her face. "Time for you to meet the victors who have decided to show up," she says excitedly. "You're now one of them."
Why does the phrase "one of them" send shivers down my spine?
I meet the gorgeous brother and sister victors from District 1 who won the 63rd and 64th Games. Their names are Cashmere and Gloss. I stifle a laugh – I will never get over how ridiculous the names are for District 1. Of course I'm familiar with this pair, however, once they won, I tried blocking them out of my memory. As they were members of the Careers, I was pretty disgusted when they won. District 1 has several other winners of course, but these 2 spend the most time in the Capitol. It's not surprising, honestly. They're the most recent victors from their district and they're both stunning to look at, what with their athletic physiques and perfect, white teeth and sexy blonde hair.
Cashmere grins at me. "Welcome, Aurie, to the victor's circle." Something about her rubs me the wrong way. She seems really phony.
Gloss doesn't say much, just smiles and winks and says my name as sultry as possible. I suddenly feel as though I need a shower. While he's incredibly attractive, there's something about him that bothers me, just like with his sister.
I meet the two most famous victors from District 2, Enobaria and Brutus. Brutus is a terrifyingly tall, muscular man in his early 30's. He says nothing to me, just raises his eyebrows when I'm introduced. Hardly less terrifying is Enobaria who won the 62nd Games. She ripped out a tribute's throat on the way to victory and almost immediately after winning sharpened her teeth into points.
Sitting next to them is the victor from the Games before mine, yet another one from District 2, Jax. He's a hulking, sullen looking 19 year old who probably weighs about 100 pounds more than my 115 and stands at perhaps 2 inches above 6 feet. His olive skin and deep blue eyes should come off as attractive but on him it just comes off as intimidating, especially because when he looks at me, I feel like an old gadget about to be incinerated and he's the one operating the machine. I inwardly shudder and hope that I'm not expected to be too friendly with the victors from 2.
Next, I meet Mags, a lovely, quiet old lady from District 4. She has the kindest smile. I wonder briefly how she has kept her sanity all these years. She won the 11th Games and has watched child after child that she's mentored die. She's the only person here, I believe, who witnessed the very first Games. I can't imagine what it must've been like to be told that from that time on, 24 young people would get randomly chosen to fight to the death. I've never known a time before the Games; it must be so much worse to have known a time without them. Though, in Mags' case, she wouldn't remember those times well. She won the Games at 16, so she would've only been 5 when they implemented the very first one.
Sitting next to her, always keeping an eye on her and making sure she's alright, is the most famous victor that I can recall: Finnick Odair. He is the youngest victor ever, at 14, so since he won the 65th Games, he'd now be 16 or 17, like me. Standing in his presence, I'm actually taken aback by how incredibly gorgeous he is. I've never seen a boy in District 3 who could rival his looks. Somehow, even Gloss fails in comparison to him.
However, Finnick has a reputation I don't like. Since he won his Games, he is one of those victors who spends much of his time in the Capitol, filming those propaganda style commercials spouting ridiculous phrases about how wonderful and generous the people are here. These are the things he says to get people excited about the next Games. How can he honestly believe the trash he spouts? He's also supposedly an incredible flirt, leaving dozens of women faint just from a few words.
I witness this first hand as he smiles charmingly at me and says in a slight purr, "Aurie Cransin, what a privilege it is to finally meet you." His tone somehow doesn't come off as insincere whatsoever. He pulls my hand to his lips and lightly brushes them against my skin, sending shocks through me, which is slightly alarming. He smiles warmly (which should be fake but it doesn't come across that way at all) at me and then squeezes my hand, causing my stomach to do flips over and over again. Maybe this is why those women feel faint, a thought that really bothers me. I always thought I was a little deeper than that; I refuse to be another girl to fall all over Finnick Odair just because he smiled at me with those sparkling, gorgeous blue green eyes (which I've heard described as "sea green", something I wouldn't know much about, having seen the sea for approximately 5 seconds on my tour of District 4).
Feeling hot from being embarrassed that Finnick unnerved me so much, I turn away from him as Sella introduces me to more victors. They don't make much of an impression on me, which infuriates me because my brain keeps dwelling on Finnick's perfect smile and his perfectly tousled sun kissed wavy bronze hair. He's awfully toned too, without being intimidatingly muscular…
I meet the one man who won the Games to refuse Capitol treatment for a loss of limb, named Chaff from District 11. He has kept his stump (instead of a hand) with as much pride as one could have; I doubt I could be so brave. I'd want both hands very much! Chaff seems like he finds comfort in liquor however, and is barely standing upright at this point. Despite that, he laughs loudly and cracks numerous jokes, amusing those around him.
Finally, I meet Haymitch, the only living victor from District 12. He's famous because, though I wasn't alive to witness it, he won the 50th Games, or what is known as the 2nd Quarter Quell. He had to fight against double the tributes and still managed to come out on top. Sadly, like Chaff, he seems to get through life on liquor. His tributes don't tend to last long in the Games, either. Haymitch barely acknowledges my presence, so I walk away from all of the victors, who have kept to themselves most of the night.
I walk past a few young Capitolites giggling over Finnick and debating if they should go and talk to him and what he might say to them. Suddenly, they gasp as I hear, "Aurie?"
I whirl around and find myself face to face with Finnick. The girls remain by me, standing still, but Finnick ignores them and asks me to dance. They throw me jealous, furious looks and stalk away.
"Um, I think they wanted to dance with you," I offer as I wave my hand in their direction.
"This is the one night where I don't have to spend time flirting with them; I'm going to take advantage of it," he replies and pulls me into his arms, swaying to the beat of the music.
I shrug and try very hard not to look into his eyes because every time I do, my heart speeds up. Instead I say, "So, what do you think of these parties?"
He shrugs. "They're deplorable. However, if you abandon your morals, you can find them enjoyable."
"I'm glad you said so. I was thinking I was the only one."
He shrugs, again. "It's just not something you say in public."
"Then why did you say it? Besides, I thought you loved the Capitol. I thought you felt they were kind and generous and the most wonderful people ever. I thought that you were growing tired of District 4."
He glances around and says in a low voice, "It's what you have to say as a victor. If you get my meaning."
My stomach drops and I say a bit too loudly, "You mean, I'll have to say things like that?"
"Keep your voice down. Yes, as a young, beautiful victor, you will say whatever they want you to say." My heart jumps at him calling me 'beautiful'. "Come on, don't you find yourself already saying whatever you're told to?" He raises his eyebrows and waits for my response.
I think back to all those ridiculous speeches I gave at all the districts and gasp. He's right. I'm already spouting Capitol bullshit.
Suddenly, I feel ill.
"Hey, Finnick, I'm not feeling too well. Do you think I'll be able to leave or would that ruin everyone's nights?"
He looks around and shrugs. "Many people have already left. Shall I walk you back to the headquarters or would you rather wait for your escort or prep team?"
My stomach grows more nauseous at the very thought of having to listen to their ridiculous chatter any longer so I shake my head. He says something briefly to Mags and then informs me that she will let Sella and the prep team know of my departure; then he and I leave the president's mansion.
Finnick and I stroll quietly along the sidewalk on the way back to the tribute center, and I finally break the silence by saying, "You seem different than I thought you were."
He grins, his teeth gleaming in the light from the street lamps and various neon signs (there's another District 3 specialty: Neon) and says, "You're the first person to say that."
Really? I think, but instead, I say, "Seriously, I thought you were some Capitol 'pet' or something. You never seem to have much substance."
"Can you honestly blame me when you think about the absolute rubbish I have to spout?" I glance and him and shake my head. "You seem different than what I expected, too. There was something…innocent about you and now, I'm not sure."
Heat rushes to my face. "I'm not innocent?! Just because my stylist put me in a short dress…"
"No, I didn't mean it like that," he interrupts me, "but despite winning, you've always seemed younger than 16. Now, after meeting you, I can see someone who's onto the Capitol's…" He trails off as we pass by a group of young Capitolites who are talking loudly about which nightclub they're off to next.
I scowl as soon as they step past us and are out of earshot. "That's what I mean," he says, gesturing to me. "You are clearly very anti-Capitol."
"Anyone from District 3 with any common sense would be," I retort.
"Even so, just make sure you watch what you say and who you say it to. Even though you're out of the Games, be careful who you trust."
"Are you saying I'm wrong to trust you, Odair?" I ask in the most indignant tone I can muster."What do you think?"
"I think that I can trust you," I tell him, sincerely hoping it's not just his looks swaying me into saying that. I'd feel like a complete fool if I told him all of my secrets and then he betrayed my confidence at the next opportunity. Can I really trust the Capitol's most favorite victor?
He smiles and the next thing I feel is him giving my hand another squeeze, which once again sends shocks throughout my arm. I wish I wasn't so affected by him!
The next thing I realize, we're back at the tribute center. He gives me a brief side arm hug and wishes me the best of luck with the remaining time I have before the 68th Games' Reaping. He says he will see me back here then. I nod and say I'll see him then and step inside, head up the elevator to the 3rd floor and step into the apartment.
Beetee smiles at me as I close the door. "What did you think of the other victors?" he asks.
"Ah, they were interesting," I reply; immediately an image of Finnick appears in my head. "I think I'll go to bed since we're heading back to District 3 early in the day."
"Right. The end of the Victory Tour, which should come as a huge relief."
"Definitely. I'll be glad to be done with it!"
Back in District 3, we head for the square in front of the Justice Building for my victory party, where in 5 months, the next Reaping will be held. Right now, it's completely decked out in tables of food and drink and everyone who could come is arriving, chattering as excitedly as I've ever seen them.
"The girl we're here to see!" I hear some boy I don't know at all call out to me. His friends smile at him and he approaches me and introduces himself as Trevor and when I ask him how come I don't know him, he says it's because he's a few years older than me. I shrug and appraise his look wondering why it is I've never been that attracted to the District 3 boys. I'm not attracted to Trevor, either. He's not bad looking exactly, with light brown hair and soft blue eyes and I'm sure my friends would find him appealing, but when he touches my hand, it leaves me cold, so unlike the effect Finnick had on it.
I excuse myself to get a drink and am accosted by my friends who bombard me with questions about how the party was in the Capitol and who the boy was who introduced himself to me just now.
Shelline, one of the nicest, but also most naïve girls I know, is unable to keep the excitement out of her voice as she asks me, "Did you meet Finnick Odair at the party? He's in the Capitol so often!"
I remember her frequently commenting on his looks during his Games. She was happy when he won and when he did his Victory Tour, she tried to get a spot in the front of the crowd. She insists he looked at her and smiled directly at her; the rest of us have always just appeased her by agreeing with her.
I tell her that I did in fact meet Finnick and suddenly she asks me question after question, one of them being if I told him about her.
"Er, no, sorry Shell," I reply, feeling a little bad, but tell myself to get over it, because travel between districts is so highly monitored that it's extremely unlikely that she'll ever see Finnick in person again unless she wins the Games herself.
She frowns at me as one of the boys in our class comes up to her, offers her a cake from his plate and strikes up a conversation with her. He has liked her for quite a while though she seems completely unaware of it.
"Soooo…what was it like talking to the famous Finnick Odair?" Ashlynn, one of my closest friends, probes.
"Ummmm…interesting," I say carefully, not wanting to confess my attraction to him, nor do I feel it's my place to inform her that he's not quite what the Capitol presents him as.
"Interesting? You were at a party with the gorgeous Finnick Odair and that's all you can say?" She frowns at me. "He's our age! He must've been interested in talking to you."
My cheeks grow warm and I look at the ground. "Yeah, he was, I guess. I don't know, it was alright."
"Ha, alright, somehow I doubt that's all it was," she says, winking at me.
"He's some Capitol darling. He's gorgeous, yes, but he's still one of them," I say with disdain.
"Sure, Aurie, whatever you say," she replies and goes off to dance with one of our classmates.
Suddenly, I feel exhausted. I learn against one of the tables and look at all of my friends dancing with boys. I don't really want to be out there with them. I just wish I could go home and forget all about The Hunger Games and that I ever won them.
Except, I'm not sure I'd forget about meeting Finnick…
My mom comes up to me and asks me if I'm feeling ok. I nod, not wanting to burden her with anything. She hugs me tightly and says softly that she missed me so much and hated listening to me read Capitol spiel at each district but understands why I did it.
Finally, I convince her to join the other parents, where my dad already is. My dad had spent time with me at our Victor's Village home when I arrived today asking me for details about the Capitol, not because he was impressed with it, but because he wanted to make sure I was still the same Aurie Cransin. He said he'd become concerned about me after he watched me make "ridiculous speech after ridiculous speech." I explained to him that I had no choice in the matter. He said he watched a little of the Capitol party and said he was somewhat horrified that I was dancing with those young Capitolites. I explained that to him too that I had to be as polite as possible as the newest victor.
My brothers, who are 20 and 23, ambush me after my mom leaves my side, saying that they've heard that I met Finnick Odair. They tell me that I could do better than that Capitol jerk and though he may be incredibly attractive to remember it's what's on the inside that counts.
"Thanks Shef," I tell my 20 year old brother, trying not to roll my eyes. He's just being his overprotective self.
"Seriously, Odair is just some obnoxious punk taken in by the Capitol. Neither of us wants you to date him." He looks at my oldest brother, Jenks, who nods.
"I've never liked him," he agrees. "Ever since he got reaped at 14, he has always come across as obnoxious and cocky."
"That's great, I'm so glad you think that about him," I reply heavily. "But, I think I can make up my own mind on him."
Their eyes go wide on me. "No!" Shef says, grabbing my arms. "Anyone but him!"
"What about Brutus then?" I cross my arms in front of my chest, calling their bluff.
"Ok, not any other victors. What about a nice boy from our district?"
I shrug. "I'm really tired of this conversation. Let's talk about something else."
We end up talking about their jobs.
Finally, after talking to several other people, including Wiress and Beetee, Sella announces the party's end and I sigh in relief then make my way with my parents to our home.
Not even bothering to change my clothes, I fall into my bed and fall asleep within a few minutes.
I wake up the next morning, sighing and stretching as I glance at the sunlight streaming into my room.
As I contemplate what I want to do today since I won't have to return to school for a couple of days, I hear a knock on my door.
"Come in," I say, somewhat groggily since I'm still sleepy.
My mom comes in and hands me an official looking document. The Capitol seal is on the tape sealing the paper together. Feeling as though this can be nothing good, I open the document with trembling hands.
Mom clutches my arm, looking somewhat nervous and asks me what it says.
"Um, it says that President Snow requests my presence in the Capitol. He wants me to take the train out today. There will be one waiting for me at noon." I show her the letter, as her face grows whiter by the second.
"He can't do that!" she says, crumpling the paper in her hands. "You just got back! How can he ask you to go back to the Capitol?"
My heart grows heavy. What could Snow possibly want from me? Did someone overhear my conversation with Finnick? Did Finnick betray my confidence? Was I not nice enough to the Capitolites at the party? I must've done something wrong, but however long I think, I can't come up with an answer. I don't know what Snow will do to me. And, that's the scariest part.
XXXXXXXXXX
Well, if you made it to the end of the chapter, I hope you enjoyed it! Please review and tell me what you thought, good or bad (but if it's negative, please be nice). If you like this story so far, please also follow and favorite! It'd mean so much to me!
Lots of love! See you next week.