Snow's POV

I stared at the vial, crushed on the floor. I small smirk came onto my face. Lystra may have been fooling the audience with her sad, crushed form, but I wasn't convinced. Obviously, she just wanted to shock them – she had never loved that Tanner kid. She was just playing.

I stepped onto the stage, and the people began to cheer for me – they had all heard about how I had killed the killer of my father, even though she was my "sister", and how I would take his place as President. Of course they all approved. Why wouldn't they?

A chair was brought out for me. I sat between Viola and Lystra in ease. They both looked at me, surprised by my sudden appearance. I pretended that I didn't notice.

"Oh!" Viola gasped. "How lovely to see you, future," here she winked with a small smile "President Snow."

I smiled back at her. "Viola, lovely as always." I took her hand and kissed it.

"Oh," she blushed visibly. "Oh, really, you're too kind."

"And," I turned to Lystra in her stunningly depressing gown. "the mourning, burnt Golden Apple, Lystra Fay Gull." She held out her hand, a bit hesitatingly, and I kissed it. "I speak for all of Panem when I say we are sorry for your loss."

I saw the tears form in her eyes. "I thank you, young President," she said, her voice hardly more than a whisper of breath. "And I speak for myself and Tanner, and all the others of the 24th Hunger Games, when I say that we are sorry for your . . ." she pronounced this next word carefully. "losses."

What a good actor she was! She made her way through the Game with ease! I wasn't at all surprised that she had won. In only two sentances, she had awakened sorrow in the crowd for both of us, as well of reminding me that 1) she was older than me 2) I must not look down on her because of her loss – for I had had my own fair share as well as 3) telling me that she knew the truth about Nich.

I bowed my head, making myself seem very sad. "I had to choose a side," I said quietly, looking up to a camera. "I'm only sorry that they both had to die."

Lystra reached over to me, and took my hand. The whole crowd sighed in sorrow, dabbing their eyes. They assumed that we were banding together in this hard time, but they couldn't see the stiff way our hands were positioned, each telling the other that there was no trust – no similarities. She showed me hatred, and I gave it back.

Oh, how I loved these Games!

Lystra's POV

As Snow and I talked about our sorrows, I paid close attention to him, remembering Nich's letter. She had begged that I try to change him, but I wasn't sure if I could. When I had seen him on the television, he always seemed to be a young child, staring up at his father with admiration, and at his sister with love and affection. He seemed the most happy thing in the world.

Now, with the loss of Nich and his father, he seemed destroyed. I supposed that finding out his mother was in the Games, and then her death, too, must have been hard. But I knew that Nich's betrayal was the thing that tore him up the most.

As much as I hated to say it, I thought that Nich herself had killed her brother and made a tyrant worthy of his father's name.

"So, President, Lystra," Viola said. "What are you two going to do now?"

I exchanged a glance with Snow. Our answers would have to be the same – even though we wanted very different things.

"Honor Father's memory," Snow said "by being the President he was."

That proved more than anything that he was too far gone for me to save. And he was forgetting about Nich. I knew this would have hurt her so much. "And I shall honor the memories of all those in the 24th Hunger Games." I told the whole of Panem, becoming strong again. "Even those who were my enemies. Because they died with honor. I shall honor them in two ways." I paused here, letting them all hear me clearly.

"One way is that I am going to be present at all of their funerals." There were nods – no other tribute had done it, but in my case, it seemed only right. I glanced at Snow, whose face was a mask of agreement.

"Another way is on this stage tonight. I have a gift for them all." I said, and I stood. All eyes were on me – a whole countries. I did not smile as I took off the dress that was really a robe. It fell from my shoulders with ease, and revealed the gown that I had made.

It covered almost all of my skin and, underneath, was made of white velvet. But, on the visible side was all paper. I had drawn on every single sheet, and then overlapped, showing pieces of the pictures.

I had made the Games.

There were the ruined districts, twisted bodies of dead tributes, their shocked faces, sad faces, clenched fists, and dark weapons. Practically every moment was there. I could see the shocked, sorrowed, and excited expressions of the people of the Capitol. I closed my eyes, wondering what the people back home would be thinking. I could nearly see the people in my mind's eye, laughing, crying . . .

When I opened my eyes, I realized that the future President was gone. I realized that Viola was standing beside me, and that it was time to shake hands and for her to wish me good luck. I extended my hand with a slight rustle, and Viola accepted it. The audience began to scream.

"Good luck," she said, wide-eyed, quietly to me, under the noise. I blinked and thanked her, because I knew that I would need it. I was in a mess.

Behind the stage, Emerald, Vincent, and Kayton escorted me to my room, where I sat without complaint. I wondered how I would be punished for this act of rebellion. I wasn't sure, but it was sure to be serious.

Eventually, Kayton walked in with dinner. I sat it on my side table, but I didn't eat. Kayton sat beside me on the bed. "Why did you do it?" she asked finally.

I laughed slightly. "Which thing?"

"Breaking the vial," her voice was blunt. "Now what about Rayne?"

I chuckled. "I didn't break the actual vial, Kayton." I shook my head. "I have to save Rayne – I know that."

"Then where's the real vial?" Kayton sounded shocked.

"Here," I took it out of my pocket, staring at the liquid. "Safe and sound."

She nodded and we sat there a moment. Finally, I asked, "How soon will I go home?"

"Tomorrow and the day after will be banquets celebrating your victory, here at the Capitol. Then, the way it looks, you will spend one day in each district for it's tribute's buriel – beginning with 1, skipping your own. Yours will be saved for last."

I nodded, another tear reaching my eye. "Tanner," I said.

"Tanner." She agreed. Then she gestured to my clothing. "You really drew all of that."

I nodded. It was becoming too painful to speak. Then we just sat there as the food on the side table got cold.