Who Are We Fooling: Brooke Fraser

The next day Finnick went to training and I spent my time looking for sponsors, pretending to be mad. I stayed out of sight by most of the other victors and spent my time amongst patrons. It was a painful process. Not many people will talk to a mad girl. Nevertheless, whenever I mentioned Finnick, women crowded around me, tossing money, littering and lining our funds. Men even contributed some, but I won't deny I was extra persuasive with them. I would flutter my eyelashes at them, advertising Finnick and his strength, but I knew they would rather spend time staring at me than listening to me. Back at the training center, I waited for Finnick and Mags to come back to the fourth floor.

"I think the knots worked…maybe." He said, explaining his day at dinner.

I grinned, cutting into the slab of meat on my plate. "Did you correct her?" I asked, laughing at the memory of when I had been teaching him to net.

Both Finnick and Mags smiled, along with the stylists at the table. "Of course," He said with a smile and a mouthful of food. He knocked back the last of his wine, "She has to have the knowledge." He said shrugging, setting down his cutlery and dabbing his mouth with the napkin like Ursula taught us so long ago.

I smirked, raising an eyebrow, "Would she have a chance with you in the arena?"

"She'd have to." Finnick said, glancing towards Mags with a look of unease.

I didn't like the secrets kept between them, I knew there were many. "What's that mean?" I asked, setting my knife down and placing my fork at the edge of my plate.

Finnick didn't address my question, instead moved to another. "Annie, is there any way you can talk Haymitch into convincing her to ally with us?"

I didn't know what he was up to, if this was his survival tactic or a stunt for sponsors? During my games, he had treated things so differently, it was hard to tell. I had never actually seen Finnick in true survival mode, but I knew he always had a plan. "I can try…yeah. Whatever you want Finn." I followed on his request as soon as I possibly could. I discovered the best time was when they were in training and it was earlier in the morning. It ensured a better chance of District Twelve's mentor's sobriety. "Haymitch?" I approached the blond haired man with a forever scowl etched onto his face. I felt bad for the alcoholic…but he felt bad for me too.

"Yes Annie?" His tone was naturally condescending, even though I knew he was trying to muster so sort of slurred kindness.

I didn't put anything delicate with Haymitch. He had always been a straight-to-the-point type and didn't like lingering on silly details like extra words, "Finnick wants Katniss."

He smirked and stared off into the distance, nodding. "Good, she'll like that." His lips were thin, folding in as he thought more on their alliance. I felt a pang of jealously flare, "Not like that darling," He said, laughing at my reactions towards his expressions. "Katniss doesn't much care for Finn." He pushed back his stringy blond hair and then shook his head, "Don't get your feathers in a ruffle." He said with another drunken laugh.

Anger seared my insides replacing my envy. "I beg your pardon?" I asked, annoyed I was the joke of the victors. I was silly and weak to them…nothing more, anything less.

Haymitch's tone changed, but only slightly, "We all know Annie. All the old mentors at least," He said, shaking his head with a small amount of unwarranted sympathy. "We saw how you two were during your games. I'm sorry for your hardships."

It was a legitimate sadness haunting his eyes. It was difficult to ignore, but I was determined to send in my request, taken seriously as a fellow victor not a poor, mad girl. "He…he wants the girl Haymitch. Tell her." I walked away, for fear they all offer me some kind of sad song speech.

"What are you doing for the Gamemakers tomorrow?" I asked that night, beginning to take my mentoring seriously, while Finnick on the other hand was doing the opposite. I stood in front of the mirror, cleaning my face with a towel. He stood behind me, running the razor across his jaw.

He put the razor down, washing off the lingering suds of shaving cream and shrugged with a smile after dabbing his face with a clean towel. "I'll probably just strip."

"Finnick!" I said, swatting at his chest playfully.

He grinned. "You're right Ann, they'd probably like you more," He said, capturing me in his arms and leaning down to kiss me. "I know I do."

I was beaming and blushing, turning to face him. I wrapped my arms around his neck. "Thank you for the cheek. I've always found these brilliant little quips to be your best quality," I laughed, running my hands through his auburn hair.

He smiled, "Cheeky, stupid, and sexy…my best qualities." Finnick said, staring off into space with an arrogant smirk like he was posing for cameras. I grinned, pulling him back to reality by reaching up and kissing him on his chin, the only part of his face I could reach. "I missed you today." He said hugging me tightly.

There we were, standing in middle of my bathroom, hugging before climbing into bed. I didn't want to move though. This moment was perfect and something I wanted to lock away in my memory. It might have been the last few I would have with him. "You're going to try to win, right?" I asked quietly.

He cupped my chin in his hand, "Of course I will." He said, kissing my lips. It was a poor promise sealed with a kiss. There was a plan forming and I wouldn't know of it until I was in the middle of it.

Finnick was gaining sponsors at the drop of the hat. When his training scores were released, I had more than sixty patrons pouring money into his account. The interviews were bound to rein them in by the hundreds. "You look very handsome," I told him as I straightened his tie. He touched my face and kissed my lips. He walked out onto the stage, bantering with Caesar. "What's that in your hand Finnick?" Caesar asked.

Finn unfolded the tiny slip of paper, "Oh this?" He asked as if he had forgotten about it. "This is a small poem I wrote…" He said flashing a dazzling Capitol smile out into the crowds of screaming women.

"Oh?" Caesar said, turning to the crowd and showing off a wide grin.

Finnick was polite and lovable. "May I recite it?"

"Should he recite it?" Caesar asked the crowd and without hesitation, they cheered, "Of course!" Caesar said waving his hands in the air excitedly. A group of women screamed his name.

Finnick stood up from his chair and unfolded the slip of paper, "For my beloved," He winked, showing off a alluring grin that left the Capitol stunned. My heart leapt when he caught a glimpse of me hiding off stage along with the other obscure mentors.

"If I'm gone for a day,

Keep your nerves at bay,

I'll come home my love.

If I'm gone for a week

And your heart feels weak,

I'll be home my love.

If I'm gone for a month

And your mind grows absent,

I'll find home my love.

If I'm gone for a year

And your soul starts to fear,

Your heart be my home sweet love."

That's when reality hit. The crowds fell at his feet. Women pined after him, some crying, some calling themselves his, some holding their hearts and some professing their love. My heart sank as he walked towards me, still waving to his many fans. "That was beautiful," I told him, pulling him close to me. I hugged him tightly. My fingers wrapped around his neck, patting down the standing strands of auburn hair.

His hands clamped to my sides, "I didn't want to say goodbye to you." He whispered in my ear. But we did have to say goodbye, didn't we? And he was ready to, whether willing or not…because he knew, as well as I did, in a matter of hours, maybe days, it would be over.

I smiled at him, tears falling down my cheeks. "You've got to go back out there," I told him quietly, pushing his hair out of his eyes. We weren't fooling anyone. He squeezed my hand and walked out to his fellow tributes. They lined up and for the first time in Hunger Game history they latched hands and stood silently in front of the crowd.

Chaos broke out. Peacekeepers ran out to the crowd. I didn't see what started the riot. Instead I was pinned to a wall by the mentor from Eight. "Finnick!" I called out. He found me, rushing me out of the way. He ushered me back to the fourth floor of the training center, hiding me from the world.

Privacy as our shield, he leaned down and kissed me. "Are you ok?" He asked.

I nodded, knowing my incessant shaking wasn't reassuring. I became overwhelmed easier as time went. Finnick knew. He picked me up, draping my legs over his arms and leading me to my room. It was our last night together. I was desperate, wanting to hold him, comfort him, but he insisted on avoiding goodbyes. "Let's keep things as normal as possible," He told me with a smile. He kissed me for the last time before the arena, and drifted into another restless slumber. I didn't sleep much that night.

I thought with age, I'd handle him leaving better…I thought eventually, it wouldn't crush me, the weight of his being gone, but each time, I was proved wrong. It felt like a dream. Finnick. Everything about us felt like a strange delusion. I was slowly losing sight of reality, and I feared more that with Finnick gone, I would lose that small piece of surreal certainty forever. That night I promised myself that no matter what, without Finnick I would stay strong. But I was only fooling myself.