Finnick POV
I sit with Dorien, and fight the urge to bash my face into the too-white Capitol table we're seated in front of. We're training together, trying to work on an angle for interviews – those that will be in a few hours. Annie's in the other room with our escort, practicing etiquette, and I'm not anticipating the moment she comes in. Dorien's gotten some attention – mainly pity-based, but in the Games any attention is good attention. Some adore him because he's not the typical Career – he's a shrimp, what chance would he actually stand against the other Careers? The Games seem fairly typical this year – good-looking, lethal District 1; strong, threatening District 2; all arrogant. Fairly unremarkable other Districts. For once I'm glad that there will be a bunch of blood-baths….. less competition for Annie… and Dorien.
I stare at Dorien and evaluate our conversation. We'll be forced to take the weak, helpless, sweet route; much to my displeasure. He's cute, and hopefully that'll earn some sponsor points, but there's only so many sponsors who will fall for that act. I don't have much to work with… especially since his training score… Training score. Even thinking those simple words causes me to wince in discomfort. Annie refused to tell me, or any of us, what she had done or what had happened – so all we could do was wait as the training scores were broadcast. The early districts scored in the 8-10 range… and then it was our turn. A forbidding 2 popped up above Dorien's name…. and a 0 above Annie's. Watching her face, I expected shock or fear, but I only caught a slight smirk before she quickly changed her expression to reflect someone who was dully bored. Our escort burst into tears, probably sad she had no chance of being promoted to District 1 in the near future, and Mags and I just sat in stony silence. I regret it, but as soon as Mags and Dorien went to bed, I turned on Annie.
"What are you doing? You could have at least tried – for me, for your mother! A 0? That must be a record – even if a tribute sits around, they give them a 1 or 2 for good measure!" I yelled. "You aren't completely hopeless! You can do some things – you have skills – now the Careers will mark you down as an easy kill! They'll take you down immediately, you'll be a blood bath!" She seemed shocked, hurt, but anger quickly replaced her uncertainty. "Finnick… I'm going to die anyway. I wish I could say I had some hope, that it hasn't disappeared; but now that I've really thought about I know it's selfish to even believe I have a chance! The Hunger Games kills even the toughest Careers – why would I survive? There's nothing special about me. The sooner you learn that, the better!" Tears began to stream down her face as she tore from the room. "But you can't die.. not this way.. you can't suffer," I managed to choke out, though by then she was too far gone to hear me. I let the gentle fall of my tears rock me to sleep as I realized..
Yes, I know. I know it's inevitable. Her death. It's heartless of me to say, but she's right, even the Careers die. Natural causes. Gamemaker surprises. I was lucky. I barely survived a hurricane in my arena, and even then, winning by my trident talents, I was lucky. I only won because of sponsors, too – they all wanted me, a gorgeous fourteen year old boy. The chance of sponsors for Annie is slight – she's beautiful, but her training score…? But I'm cheered up by the fact that sometimes tributes – even past victors, like Johanna – took the defenseless, childish route and ended up being amazing fighters. It's a strategy to make Careers ignore you, not take you as a threat. Clever, observative sponsors notice this. Unless someone looks extremely weak, they suspect something… And that gives me hope.
Though I'm dreading the ending to Dorien's training, it comes. We decide on the cute, clueless angle and hope for the best. It'll come easily for him – there's no need to act, we basically took his general aura and sugar-coated it. A shiver passes through my spine as Annie enters the room. She avoids looking at me, and a red blush fills her cheeks. Her dark hair is down and her emerald eyes seem dull, as if they've lost some of their hope. That makes my heart drop into my stomach, and before I can stop myself an apology blurts from my mouth. "Annie, I'm so sorry. I absolutely love you, you realize that, don't you? What you think is best is for you.. is best for you. I didn't mean to..," I don't say it, but it's easy to translate my underlying tone. You should choose… how you die… She nods in acceptance and a timid smile comes to her lips. Encouraged, I begin our training.
It's hard, advising someone you're close to on how to act, but we manage. By the end Annie has aced it. She acts kind, humorous, clever, and slyly silent but over control of what her talents are. She's confident, and not a trace of weakness or fear lines her tone. By the end of our session we seem to have completely recovered from our fall-out. Before we part, Annie smiles at me in relief. "You'll be in the front row.. all I have to do is pretend I'm speaking to you… just smile, okay?" She wrinkles her nose before giving me a quick, shy kiss. My spirits are lifted.. no matter what happens, I still have one more day. One more day with the love of my life.