Finnick and Hazel walked through the quiet streets of District Twelve. They talked about anything that came to mind- their families, their lives, their views on how Panem was been governed. Finally, Finnick got up enough courage to ask a question about something that was bothering him.
"So, um, your mother..." he began.
"Yeah, not the nicest woman around huh?" Hazel asked.
"What's her problem?" Finnick asked.
Hazel was quiet for a long time, then sighed.
"I suppose it's the same problem with everyone of her generation- The Hunger Wars. Her family was important in District Two before the war. They were renowned for having winning tributes in the games. Very violent tributes. I don't know much about it, but from what I could gather; her twin brother was killed by a tribute from District Twelve. My little brother is named after him. Mom and Dad argue about it a lot. Mom is resentful that her family have lost some prestige since the end of the war, and she hates being here. She blames District Twelve and District Thirteen for her families fall from grace."
Finnick frowned at this.
"If your mom hates District Twelve so much, why is she here? Why did she marry someone from here?"
Hazel shrugged. "I guess dad was a way for her to get back some of the respect she lost. He is important in the district. I think she was hoping she could get to meet the tribute who killed her brother. More than likely, she will use her job in communications to do so. She is working on some documentary. She thinks this will get her closer to the tribute."
"Not likely. There were only four winning victors from District Twelve, and only three of them are still alive."
"Finnick," Hazel said nervously, "there is something I have to tell you."
000
"So," Levesque said, swirling her fifth glass of strong wine, "Katniss, Peeta and Haymitch. Gale tells me all three of you are Hunger Games Victors."
"That's right," Katniss said, uneasily, throwing a glance at Peeta. Even as drunk as he was, Haymitch stirred nervously.
"Must make you feel important. There are very few of you left," Levesque said, a hard edge to her voice.
"Not really. They were a pretty brutal time," Peeta said, keeping his voice level, but anyone who knew him well would have notices a tightness in his voice.
"Oh, we all recognise that," Levesque said, smiling. "I'm just curious. You see, I have been approached by Plutarch Heavensbee. You see, I work in communications. Plutarch is interested in broadcasting an historical documentary on the games for all those too young to remember them. I was wondering could I arrange an interview."
000
Finnick looked at Hazel, cocking an eyebrow, waiting for her to continue.
"Well?" he asked, a playful smile playing on his lips.
Hazel took a deep breath and opened her mouth to speak. No words came out. Finnick smiled.
"I think there is an old saying to describe what you look like- 'Miming a goldfish,' I believe" he said playfully. Hazel smiled nervously, then tried again. Before she got any words out, there was a cry of delight from across the square.
"Hazel, Hazel, Hazel," a voice cried. It was Hazels little brother. He flew across the square and jumped into Hazels arms. Hazel smiled at him. He eyed Finnick nervously, still a little awestruck at his height.
"I don't think we have been properly introduced. I'm Finnick Mellark," Finnick said, smiling.
"I'm Cato Hawthorn," the little boy said.
Authors note: Sorry this took so long to update. I am busy with several stories on fictionpress. Hope you enjoy.