"Take me on a whim. It's not the sun that provides us. It's not the moon that divides us." — Imagine Dragons, Look How Far We've Come

In the morning I'm awoken hastily by Coco as she comes rushing in, and I know that they must be wanting to start earlier with our preparations for mine and Finnegan's upcoming interviews.

I have a short breakfast – much to my displeasure – after having changed into the simple outfit which had been placed on my bed before I awoke this morning.

Then it's time to start the day. Coco quickly tells me and Finnegan what we'll be doing during the day and I nod along, although I'm not really listening, still feeling a bit groggy.

I just go with the flow as I'm directed to Finnick and Finnegan's lead into a room with Coco.

We must be coming up with our individual angles now.

Selene did briefly mention this at the dinner table earlier in our stay, but I'd forgotten about it until now.

We're lead into separate rooms, so it's just me and Finnick in our room.

He seems deep in thought for a few moments, conjuring up the correct words to say, as it's quite obvious what my angle shall be.

'So,' Finnick says slowly. 'We have to come up with an angle for you, for these interviews.'

I nod.

This is a big deal. This is how you get the majority of your sponsors.

Make or break.

One small mistake, and your angle for the Games will be ruined.

It could be the difference between life and death.

In fact, it is.

'So what's my angle?' I ask. 'Am I playing up the fact that I'm your cousin or?'

I strongly suspect that I will be.

'Well, yes.' My suspicions are confirmed!

'I know what you're thinking, Absidee. That this part of the Games is easy. But it's not.' Finnick shakes his head.

'Of course not.'

'How will you play up this, I guess you could call it, advantage?' he questions aloud.

I sit silent.

Capitol Finnick is so different from Finnick from home.

During the Games he seems completely focused on just that. Trying to keep his tribute alive.

And then at the events he's so different.

A flirty and promiscuous version of the Finnick I've known and loved like a brother, not just a cousin, for years. I don't like it, but what can I do? Nothing. It's not Finnick's fault, of course.

He does what he has to do, otherwise Snow'd pick off his family members, possibly including me, one by one. I don't blame Finnick at all for his Capitol persona.

It's such a strange time to even ponder such a thing as this, but it's the first time I've really realised exactly how different the Capitol's Finnick is to Home's.

'Ah, I know,' Finnick says suddenly, snapping me out of my thoughts. 'Be charming. Be exactly as the Capitol would expect a cousin of mine to be.'

It almost seems to pain him to say these words though, which I find slightly strange.

'Okay,' I say. 'Why do you sound like that, Finnick?'

'Like what?'

'You know what I mean.'

'I really don't,' Finnick stares down at the ground, which confirms that he's lying to me.

'You sound troubled. Pained by your own words. Why's that?'

'If you win these Games...' he doesn't finish his sentence.

Of course. How could I be so stupid?

By acting exactly as the Capitol would expect a cousin of Finnick Odair to act, even if just for these interviews, it would pretty much guarantee me a life of lending myself out to the buyers, if I won these Games, that is. I'd be used by Snow, presumably mostly to gain favour in politics. Just the thought made me shudder.

Oh, poor Finnick.

He is so strong.

I don't think I'd be able to be so if I won.

But perhaps you're not given the choice.

Grit your teeth and give the Capitol citizens who buy you what they want, or you'll pay.

You and your family will pay.

If I had a high chance of being lent out before I take on this angle for the Games, it's pretty much set in stone now.

I'm not about to complain though. It's just another reason why I should protect Finnegan throughout the Games, and help him to win.

It sounds so selfish, but I guess that's what I am.

Absidee Odair, who'd rather succumb to death's tempting tendrils, than face reality's harsh facts.

I'm not a hero who'd rather let her district partner, who is a much better person than she is, might I add, live, just because he deserves life so much more. Deserves to live a sweet life.

No, it's not really like that at all.

It's because I don't want to be prostituted.

I don't want to put my family in danger even more than they already are.

I don't want to have to face harsh, harsh reality.

How completely and utterly selfish.

So I finish Finnick's sentence for him. 'If I win these Games I'll be, borrowed, lacking 'a better way to word it, by Capitol citizens for the majority of my life.'

'Yes,' Finnick breathes. 'Just like I am.'

He runs both his hands through his hair, looking as though he might chuck something in a minute just to calm himself down. But he doesn't, deciding instead to take deep breaths and count wordlessly to ten.

I watch him mouth the numbers with his eyes closed.

'I need to pull myself together,' Finnick jokes shakily and I smile, not wanting to get too close. This is the Capitol's Finnick, not the one I know. It's almost as if he clicks into a different mindset as soon as he enters the Capitol upon its train.

He almost seems to switch off a little.

I don't blame him, though. This place to him harbours bad memories. All his old tributes he mentored who are now dead.

His involuntary prostitution.

'Take some time out,' I advise. 'Chuck some stuff around.' I gesture to the glass vases which line the marble fireplace.

'I probably shouldn't.'

I shrug. 'Perhaps not.'

He still grabs one from its perch and smashes it to the ground within seconds, though, its glass spreading over a small space.

'We should probably move to the corner. Don't want my tribute injured before they enter the arena, eh?'

'I suppose not. You feeling better now?'

He nods. 'Yes.'

'So, my angle.'

Finnick sighs. 'Your angle.'

'I'll play the charming cousin of Finnick Odair. Smiley, and willing to please.'

Finnick glares at the ground again. 'Yes.'

'Good. I'm glad that's sorted.'

Next I have time with Coco, and this is also preparation for my interview.

4 hours filled with learning how to walk in heels properly and improving my posture.

What a joy.

I learn a lot within these 4 hours, and actually feel as if I've, shock horror, improved, by the time we've finished.

I spend the rest of the day relaxing after I'm done, still lying in the simple floor lengthdress which Coco made me change into for practising in the heels.

Finnegan doesn't come to talk to me, so I feel a bit lonely for a while.

Finnick's out... elsewhere. A shiver runs down my spine and I feel extreme sympathy for my cousin.

I can't feel empathy as I can't quite imagine what it'd be like to be made to be, er, 'intimate', with someone who belongs to a society you despise. He has absolutely no choice in the matter, not unless he wants someone in his close family, or even friends to be convienently killed.

Images flash through my head, almost on a quick slideshow.

Belva, dead. Antony, dead.

Uncle Conrad, dead.

Aunty Bea, dead.

Another shiver tickles through me.

They are to Finnick what Coby, Edrie and Mum and Dad are to me.

I'm tired of being left to my own thought soon enough, feeling myself get depressed, so I decide to look for Finnegan.

I know exactly where to go; it's late in the afternoon, and the sun's slowly setting above our sky.

I find him up on the roof, sat on the ledge of the building.

'Aren't you scared of falling?' I say out loud.

'No,' Finnegan replies without turning to look at me. 'The forcefield prevents that.'

Oh yes. The forcefield. I remember us discussing that on our first night up here together, after the tributes' parade.

'Mind if I join you?'

'Of course not.'

I sit alongside him and look out onto the Capitol. The bright lights begin to hurt my eyes so I look at the sky itself instead.

Tonight it's made up of pinky tones in some areas, the perfect sunset orange in others, and then some of the other areas of sky are still a pure azure blue, the kind of sky you'd expect on a beautiful summer's day.

I feel a droplet slide down my cheek and realise I'm actually crying a bit.

Your family could be looking at this very same sky at this very moment, you know, the voice in my head reminds me. Edrie, Coby, your parents. Even your cousins and your aunt and uncle. They will be thinking of you.

It's a comforting voice, but it pulls at my insides. I feel so homesick all of a sudden, but I try to keep a steady head, reminding myself that I'll most likely never reach home again.

'Are you alright?' Finnegan asks, a curious but worried look upon his face.

'Yes,' I say with speed and attempt to wipe my face clean of all emotion. 'I'm fine.'

'So,' Finnegan begins another sentence. 'You enjoy my company?'

I sniff and try not to laugh, holding back a wide smile. 'What makes you think that?'

'Well, you come up here to watch the sun set with me.'

I tilt my head to the side. 'Yes. It is nice to have company, I suppose. It's dangerous for me to leave myself to my own thoughts. I'd probably end up punching a wall or something ridiculous,' I shrug. 'But yes, you are a decent enough person, I guess.'

'Same goes for you.'

I smile down at the ground below. Down at the pavements, where I can just about make out a big party of about 15 or so Capitol citizens making their way about the streets. Maybe Finnick is among them.

'What would you do if you won?' Finnegan questions out of the blue.

'What do you mean?'

'Well, what would you do with yourself? Lose yourself to an addiction of some sort, or try to live normally. As you did before you were reaped into this life. Or perhaps even live as Finnick does.'

'What do you mean?' I ask again. I suspect this is another subtle dig at Finnick, like what Finnegan said at the beginning of our time here.

'I mean, lose yourself amongst the Capitol culture. Almost become one of them.'

'He's not like that–'

'It seems like he goes with them to try to forget the life he leads.' Finnegan speaks the words 'goes with them' with utmost disgust.

'It's not like that, okay?' I growl.

'Okay, okay,' Finnegan holds his arms out. 'Calm down.'

He puts on this infuriating little smile for more than a few seconds, so I snap; 'Why are you doing that?!'

'Doing what?' he responds, still holding up that smile.

'That smile!' I say loudly as if it's obvious, which it is to me. 'It's so annoying!'

'It's just sweet,' he says. 'How protective you are of Finnick. I mean, I know he's your cousin–'

'He's like a brother to me,' I interrupt. 'I don't take kindly to people insulting him, or anyone I'm close to, for that matter. No matter who they are. You have no idea whatsoever what he's done for me.'

'I didn't mean to insult him, Absidee. I'm sorry.'

He smiles a real smile at me this time.

'So if I have no idea what he's done for you, am I allowed to know?'

'Well,' I hold my breath. This seems the right time. 'This seems the right time, I think.' I repeat my thoughts.

Finnegan is quiet, and I realise he's awaiting my story and listening intently.

'A year after Finn won his Games, my friend was entered into the Games. One of my closest friends, Aerowyn Harper, or as I used to call her, Wynny. I was only 14 at the time. And Wynny was one of the few people who actually got me, you know?'

Finnegan nods and I feel my eyes tearing up. I feel so weak lately, my emotions just aren't right. They're all over the place.

'So Wynny entered the arena. And of course, it was horrific. She was in the Career pack for a short time, but left as she found them distrustful. She kept herself to herself after that, but soon enough,' I feel another tear slide sneakily down my cheek. It's painful to even think about Wynny's Games, let alone recount them. That's why I liked to ignore the thought of her Games. And just preserve her memory alone. Happy memories.

'They found her,' I choke out. 'They cut her up, and they murdered her.' I'm in hysterics by now, but luckily I'm not too loud, more silent hysterics.

Finnegan pulls me into a hug, and I don't pull away. Horrifyingly I've established quite a connection to this fellow tribute of mine.

'But it's okay,' I say in a dream-like voice. 'I see her everyday. I see her in the beauty of life,' I know I must be sounding insane, but Finnegan doesn't seem to care. So I continue. 'I see her in the butterflies quite a lot. And in the dragonflies.' I add.

'May she live on through your imagination,' Finnegan whispers in my ear.

I pull back and look deep into his eyes. I know when I say my next sentence that I'll be able to identify if he's lying or not.

'Do I sound crazy to you?'

'No,' he replies softly, and I know he's speaking the absolute truth.

At least, the truth as it seems to him.

I disagree.

I believe I'm the only tribute to become unhinged in the space between the Reaping and when the Games begin.

'Are you sure?' I say slowly as he leans in towards me.

'Positive,' is the last thing he says before our lips meet.

Well... I hope that wasn't that predictable. Reviews appreciated, thanks for sticking with me and reading!