Blaine Abernathy: A Canary Caged

Disclaimer: I do not own The Hunger Games

Chapter 35: Secret Love

Blaine's POV

"Understood, sir," I replied back into the phone, finishing a private conversation with President Snow.

He approved the interview and appreciated my performance in keeping the Star-Crossed Lovers real. With a sigh, I set the phone back to the server. All I have to do is focus on my concerts until returning to District 12 for Katniss's photo shoots. Although I won't be mentoring her in that department. I'll visit Haymitch and check on Peeta to see how everything is going.

It has only been a week, and I miss home. Well, more like Midnight and Shiloh. And Haymitch. I always had Midnight, being my emotional support animal. But I left him behind since Shiloh was too young to travel. The nightmares have been brutal but not extreme as of late. Either way, I felt alone when I slept at night. Despite the fact, Avoxes are waiting in the main room.

I shook my head, dreading watching the interview. Knowing I had exposed myself to my enemies and to Cinna. A part of me prays that he is so focused on his work that he misses the interview. Or that he is occupied.

But I know sooner or later, he will find out.

I grabbed a pillow bringing it up to my face, and groaned, if not screaming into it.

I have been in the arena.

I had spied and killed traitors for the Profit Circle.

Nothing should scare me.

Except confessing my feelings on live television.

Damn it, I thought.

Well, it is not like I said, "I love you." Hell, I don't think I love him. However, my feelings were drawn to Cinna. A part of me knows this was dangerous, for he could be used against me. But another part of me wants it. What was that saying go, 'A rock and a hard place.' Something like that.

"Blaine, it's starting!" Effie called out.

I sighed, dreading this, as I set the pillow down and stood up. The moment we returned from the studio, I showered and relaxed. Hardly speaking to save my voice until President Snow called. Now it was time.

"Just a moment!" I replied back.

I walked towards the desk that accommodated the room where the three sunflowers from earlier rested in a tall vase. Picking up the card again, I went through company logos and insignia on the internet in search of Jabberjay or bird-related foundations. This gift bugged me. Xavier was the only person I know who gave me sunflowers in the off-season. Who is, unfortunately, dead as we speak!

I scanned the insignia and searched through the database. The tablet popped up with no match to the description of the logo, a dead end. Maybe I'm just paranoid? Possibly with all the stress and schedule Effie created that there was hardly enough time to concentrate outside the path. So, with a deep breath, I walked out of my room and sat on the couch with Effie and Portia, eating chocolate-covered strawberries.

The recap of the interview was a success. However, I paid attention to the window when the first question was about the moment I became Victor and the footage. Once that was out of the way, I could enjoy the rest of the show until the love life. Effie tries to pry out who the guy was from me yet again. Portia smirked, saying she might know. I gave her a warning to which she giggled, making a zip movement with her hand over her mouth.

"I presumed it's not Augusta," Effie announced with a huff. "You two haven't been dating and such."

"Effie, I don't socialize with a low-life Casanova. Caesar, son or not, he is the most arrogant, sexist man I ever met. He thinks he can seduce and bribe women, which shows he's no better than Cray." I said, crossing my arms.

"Arrogant he may be, but handsome he certainly is not?" Portia murmured.

"Don't tell me you're infatuated by him?" I asked.

"Nope, I just like the clothes on his body for other gentlemen." She defended before we all had a laugh.

The rest of Caesar's show consisted of a few celebrities, a movie star, and a model till the show ended. Once done, Effie turned off the television and pulled out a nail file to work on her decorative nails. Portia and I randomly talked, giving ideas on the clothesline for Peeta and stage outfits for later concerts.

Soon dinner was ready, and we went to the dining room. French onion soup was served with a Caesar salad. The main course was Beef Wellington. While dessert was poached pears with vanilla ice cream.

It was strange to have a girl's night, in a sense. Then again, I spent most of the time at the Capitol alone with the Avoxes or Effie. Nights with the Avoxes were usually watching a movie. And though they provided company, their inability to speak made it hard to communicate. And Effie, well, she is Effie. So having Portia here was refreshing.

I bobbed my head to the Avoxes, who cleaned up the mess as Portia and I made our way back to the living room. Portia and I had sat down, yet Effie remained standing. The flamboyant woman yawned, saying she should get going, for tomorrow was a big, big, big day. Yeah, the first concert for the winter season with songs from Lament and other singles. Not much of a merry tune but a deep soulful night. Portia stayed a while longer when Effie left.

I leaned back against the leather seat and sighed heavily. The Avox with red hair came over, handing me an herbal tea for my throat. I nodded in thanks as she bobbed her head and left. Keeping it subtle since I don't know Portia's view on them.

Portia sat there staring at me with her dark eyes. "It's Cinna, isn't it?"

"What?" I asked, drinking the tea.

"Don't evade the question, Blaine." She said, setting her wine glass aside. "You may be an actress on stage, but I can see what's happening. I see how you two stare at each other. You know Cinna can do unexplainable things."

"What do you mean?"

Portia smiled sincerely, then blinked, shaking her head, "Sorry, it must be the alcohol. I better be going as Effie says, 'Tomorrow is a big, big, big day!'"

I shook my head, not surprised that Portia held the secret. Then again, she and Cinna are close friends. She mentioned they have known each other since university. Then again, practically everyone has a secret to the point it could ruin everything. Katniss with her affair with Gale, the temptation of rebellion, President Snow's conspiracy of the Profit Circle, Cinna's mysterious behavior, and my mission. Its best things are kept a secret.

Seeing it was getting late, Portia and I said goodbye to her waltzing out of the room. I sighed, taking another sip of tea, noticing Portia had forgotten her coat. Oops, give it five minutes, and she'll come back. Seven minutes later, the door opens.

"Forgot something?" I asked, lifting the coat up.

"That is not mine," Cinna replied.

My eyes widened as I stiffened at the sudden appearance. Shit, I knew he'll come here to talk about what happened at the interview…. but not so soon. At least until tomorrow. I put the coat down and looked over my shoulder to see Cinna, who held his typical mask. I gulped, not sure what to do or what to say in fact. Cinna sat down next to me and did the unexpected. He took my hand and kissed it.

"Cinna…. I-um-"

"I know," he said with a smile. "I didn't expect you to confess on live television."

I scoffed, picking up a decorative pillow and smacked him with it. He chuckled, taking the assault as he set the pillow down. "You're doing it again."

I stared at him, confused, so he explained, "Avoiding the subject. Blaine, I know you're afraid of commitment, and it's normal." He retakes my hand, "Remember at the Victory Banquet when we kissed in the rose garden, and I told you to set the pace?" I nodded. "You still have that control."

"Why are you so…." I couldn't find the right words to say. Cinna was practically the best man I ever met in the Capitol. Somebody who understands me and lets me have control when I've been caged forever. "Why me?"

Cinna scowled for a second, then leaned closer, cradling my face, "There are many reasons I can't say. But I can still see the little girl who inspired me ten years ago."

"Cinna," I breathed as he leaned closer till his lips met mine.

Whatever I was about to say vanished. All the possible fears and excuses disappeared as I responded to the kiss. The kiss was soft, cautious, and gentle till he started to pull back. I hesitated, unsure what to do after this. I would have teased if this was a client, but this wasn't a client; this was Cinna. I don't want to give him the scripted session.

"Relax," Cinna whispered against my lips.

I exhaled, closing my eyes as Cinna kissed me again, this time with more vigor. So engrossed in the kiss that I did not realize Cinna pushed me against the couch while my fingers clenched onto his shoulders, bringing us closer. We haven't kissed like this since the rose garden. He pulled back, resting our foreheads together, panting. We looked into each other's eyes, seeing a cloud of lust and something more. When the door clicked, somebody was coming in, that Cinna and I pulled back, adjusting our position, pretending to watch a show.

"Sorry, I forgot my coat," Portia said.

.o0o.

Once Portia got her coat, she smiled at us, not saying another word before leaving. We waited a few moments, ensuring she was gone, before going to the balcony needing fresh air. Watching the Capitol light up in the evening, obscuring the stars. Thriving on all the district's resources and wasting them away.

Unlike District 12, where you can see the stars shining bright.

Even though it was winter, and some flurries began to fall, it was not enough to trigger me. As I hated snow. Hated it since the arena.

Cinna leaned against the rail staring at me. His back turned from the Capitol.

"So… what are we?" I asked, arms resting on the rail.

"I think the term is a couple," Cinna replied.

"But what as a couple," I corrected. "A lot is happening, and I don't know what to do. All my clients were thinking of themselves, and to me it was an act. But it's different when I'm with you. Also, our status, the victor and the stylist of District Twelve…."

"You're afraid of the world finding out about us." He snorted, shaking his head.

"Close… yet no," I said. "Not when the Star-Crossed Lovers are at a stalemate. You know it's an act with Haymitch, and I must keep the plot going. Another distraction could lead to a suspicion that we're coworkers and me being a singer. I don't want a deranged fan to go overboard on ya."

Cinna chuckled at the thought of one of my fans, who is obsessed with me going to kill him. That was not the reaction I was expecting. Then again, this was Cinna. He took a deep breath and wrapped an arm around my shoulders.

"We can keep our relationship a secret for the time being," he suggested. "Until things settled with the wedding arrangement for Katniss, Peeta, and the Quells."

"That's another thing I fear," I breathed.

"Why's that?"

"The First Quell, the tributes were voted by their own district. In the Second Quell, the number of tributes doubled. The third could be anything; a complete gender game, age differences, or family. And I'll be here trying to save their lives each passing second while sorting out other Capitol amusement." I clenched my fists tight. "Every second of every day is a game to me. Although I'm not winning, in fact, I'm folding the cards… losing every single chip I have."

"I know what you mean," he murmured, adjusting himself to wrap both his arms around me. "Life's a gamble. And our reputation and self are on the line."

"Sometimes the Capitol takes further the things I want." I breathed, trying to prevent tears from falling. I slammed my fist into the rail. "I want a life that is mine! I want to be happy. Normal. I want to know what it's like to wake up in the morning and not feel guilty. What it is like to walk down the street and not look over my shoulder. I want that."

"Blaine," Cinna breathed, squeezing his arms tightly in his embrace. "What's keeping you from your dreams?"

"Snow," I whispered, looking up to the sky as the flurries condensed as it began to accumulate. "Something that isn't red."

Cinna sighed, not entirely understanding the distraction I was in when it came to snow. He stepped back, heading inside while I stood there watching the snow fall. I have hated the snow since the day I got out of the arena. What was supposed to be pure is now stained red everywhere I look. The past was covered in blood on the snowy top of the mountains where twenty-three tributes died. Snow and blood should never cross paths. Each resigns on life. Yet the bloodbath of the Sixty-Ninth Hunger Games destroyed that. As the powder white snow sprayed red in innocent blood.

"Snow would have to do what snow does best," Cinna said, returning with a blanket and wrapping it around us. "Snow would have to fall."

Snow would have to fall.

"Snow would have to fall" comes from Mirror Mirror.

I hope you all are enjoying the changes in this story.

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