A shuffling sound in my room wakes me. Back when I was so depressed and all I wanted to do was lay around, Peeta or Sae more often than not would take it upon themselves to wake me and drag me out of bed. Now though, I wake myself just fine. So who on earth is in here? "Oh! She's awake!" a high-pitched voice squeals in my ear. Granted, it was obvious the speaker attempted to keep their voice low. Nevertheless, it was most certainly a squeal. And the speaker, who was leaned over me and accompanied by two other faces, was Octavia.
I bite back a scream of frustration. I had thought my days of having my bedroom and privacy invaded were officilally gone. So why, as if in another nightmare, am I waking up to my prep team's faces? Supressing the urge to snap at them, I ask in as happy a tone as I can muster, "What are you three doing in here? And so early?" They all titter, as if I asked a silly question. I find nothing amusing in wanting to know what I owe this unwarranted bedroom invasion to. "Why Katniss darling, we're here to get you ready for your wedding of course!"
My sleep-fogged brain must not be thinking straight. That, or those vile Capitol doctors did not repair my ear as good as I thought they did because I could have sworn I just heard myself and wedding in the same sentence. Blinking rapidly, I give my head a quick shake, attemping to rid myself of the last vestiges of sleep. "My what? That's funny, I thought I heard you say wedding," I say, forcing a chuckle. Flavius cocks his head in puzzlement. "That's amusing? That's exactly what she said." Then he shrugged and laughed, apparently trying to join in on the joke. Throwing my legs off the side of the bed, I stand and walk towards the door. "Of course, of course, silly me. You know what, just let me go see about something really quick and then we can get started." Venia gives her hands two sharp claps, a broad smile on her face. "Excellent! Come now, let's get the bathroom in shape for when Katniss comes back." As soon as they were in my bathroom, no doubt about to transform it into a beautifying torture chamber, I bolt downstairs. Without bothering about shoes, I throw on my jacket and rush outside.
I make it to Peeta's house in what is surely record time. There I find Haymitch, sitting on the porch with the hint of a smug smile on his lips. "What the hell is that?" I ask through gritted teeth, pointing towards my house. Haymitch bends forward, peering to see what it is I'm pointing to. He cocks an eyebrow at me. "Been hit in the head? That's a house, sweatheart, you ouughta know that by now," he says, not hiding his enjoyment of my mood. "Not the house, what's in it! Why in the name of everything is my old prep team, in my house, claiming they're going to get me ready for my wedding?" I growl at him. Haymitch looks at me like he's expecting me to add to this. "Well? What on earth is going on here?" Haymitch shrugged, looking as smug as ever. "You're getting married." I scoff. "Now? Since when did I say that was happening now?" Haymitch shrugged unimpressed by my reaction. "Since you wanted to avoid a full-out, media covered wedding ceremony." I narrow my eyes at him, frowning. "What are you talking about?" "I'm talking about the fact that unless you and Peeta hurry up and get hitched already, you are going to get dragged into a big fat media mess."
I shake my head, still frowning. "Why would they all of the sudden take interest in us again?" Haymitch sighed with exasperation. "They never lost interest, you're still the victors of District 12, you're still the girl who was the Mockingjay," he explains as if I'm half-witted. "But the war is over, we're scarred mentally and physically, I'm restricted to 12, why are they suddenly going to be butting in and controlling my life again?" Haymitch rolled his eyes. "Because you make good tv, that's why! I don't know how they found out, we used multiple trusted people passing it along to avoid getting found out, but somehow someone learned I helped Peeta get you a ring. Now, the media is breathing down my neck with this new "freedom of the press" garbage, and if they get their way and get permits to come down here, it will only be a matter of time before you're manipultated inot a televised Capitol wedding, believe me."
"So it's basically forced," I spit out bitterly. "No, it's real enough, I mean you said yes to the boy before this crap came up, it's just...rushed. I wish it didn't have to be. Honest, Katniss. It's just, unavoidable if you want to stay out of Panem's eye." "I am feeling extremely manipulated." Haymitch looks me in the eye. "This is the more preferable option, sweetheart. You already have your family and your friends here, you can have them attend your wedding that you hold on your own terms. The only way the Capitol isn't going to take this as a way to gain back a lost oppurtunity for the story of the millenium, is if you take away the climax before they can get their paws on it...Come to think of it, I think one of those prep idiots was raving about how paws are trending there. Disgusting." I want to yell that this is all his fault, but I don't. Instead, I turn around and walk stiffly back to my house. "I hate you most when you're right," I call bad-temperedly over my shoulder. "Yeah, yeah, yeah, just don't let those giggling twits take forever dolling you up."
