A/N: Enjoy. There's an extra-dramatic twist
I spend most of my time on the train watching the Reapings from the other districts. From District 11, there's Chaff and Seeder. Chaff is one of Haymitch's good friends, who won 5 years before Haymitch did. He has only half of his left arm- he lost part of it in his Games. Seeder won the 30th Hunger Games, and seems to be very healthy for an older victor. Both of the victors from District are older, which is both comforting and a bit sad. The victors from 9 are older as well, but aren't elderly (like the ones from District 10). They seem to be around Haymitch's age. Effie has strong feelings about the victors from 8. The man Woof, looks to be around Haymitch's age. The woman, Cecelia won the games after Haymitch's. She has to detach herself from three crying kids, and Effie looks very upset over the fact she was reaped. I try not to look at Haymitch, but I know he can't be happy. Chaff is Haymitch's best friend, and the others, he must at least be acquainted with.
It gets progressively worse after that. Both Johanna and Blight are reaped, which causes me to throw my drink at the television. The victors from District 6 are elderly morphling addicts, and can barely walk to the stage. It's pathetic, and deeply saddening. The victors from District 5, Haymitch seems upset about. I contemplate not seeing the reaping for District 4, but I need to watch. The escort starts with ladies, and the handful of them are quiet with anticipation. She reads Annie Cresta, and the audience is silenced. She starts crying, and Finnick has to duck out of the pen to help her get up. Mags volunteers to take her place, and hobbles to the stage slowly with her cane. Poor Annie. Poor Mags. When she reaches in the bowl for the boys, I squeeze Haymitch's hand so tightly, I think he might lose circulation. Of course, she has to pick the worst possible name. Finnick Odair. The crowd is shocked. Annie screams, Mags shakes her head in denial. One man looks like he's about to volunteer, but I see Finn mouth No and shake his head. I let out a strangled sob, and don't even notice that the noises I'm making are mine until I hear them after I leave the car. I hear someone call out to me, but I don't turn around. I lock myself in the bathroom, curl up in a ball, and cry.
Not only am I going back into the arena, but I'm going with my closest friends, my boyfriend, and my mentor's friends. I can't kill any of them. I can't die either. I'm stuck. After a while, Gale manages to kick down the door and he drags me out of the bathroom to see who the others are. I hate him for it, but I really don't. The two victors from District 3 are Wiress and Beetee. I've met them both during the party at the end of my victory tour. They seemed really nice. The victors from District 2 are both volunteers, to nobody's surprise. The woman is Enobaria, who I recognize from the fact that she killed by ripping her opponent's throats open with her own teeth. The man, Brutus, seems more than willing to get back in the arena. District 1 is terrible to watch, as well. Both Cashmere and Gloss are picked. Haymitch and I can't even comprehend our dismay. I wonder how Cashmere and Gloss' parents feel. Then, Capitol commentators have to give their opinions. They talk about how the odds are never in my favor- having my two boyfriends in the games with me, and my cousin. They also mention how all three of Finnick's love interests, ever, were reaped, and how this is going to be the best Games, ever! I disagree completely.
Haymitch looks over at me, and shakes his head. "You know what sucks about this sweetheart? There's no way these will turn out in anyone's favor. I would hate to be the sole living victor, but who wants to die?" He takes a large gulp of his liquor, and passes the bottle to me. I gratefully take it, and down at least half of it. There's no way I'll be able to handle this sober. The train stops short for a fuel stop, and Haymitch requests I get some air with him. As soon as our feet touch the sodden ground outside what I assume is the outside of District 8, he speaks. "If a bunch of us – you, me, Jo, Blight, Finn, Mags, the siblings and a few mentors – can focus on one person to keep them alive, then maybe we can bring them home. But who? I know that you think I'm crazy for being upset with Gale volunteering, but I have reasons. You'll understand soon enough. But not now."
I think about how hard this is for Haymitch, having to choose. There's Chaff, who's his best friend, Johanna, who's his girlfriend, Blight, who's like his brother, and other people who just mean a lot to him. His whole family is going to be fighting to death in the arena, and he can't take sides. I suddenly get an idea. "What if nobody kills anyone? Imagine that: a fight to the death without any fighting or death. It would be revolutionary."
Haymitch shakes his head. "Game-maker interference. Also, what about the District 2 victor-tributes? What do you even call them? Victors and tributes. Regardless, the idea's terrible. You can't count on anyone to stick to their word. And even if they did, Snow would throw a fit. That wouldn't work, at all." A Capitol attendant sticks her head out the train door, and tells us that the train is going to start up again, so we need to come inside. I wonder what would happen if I resisted. I'm not in the mood to find out. As we're walking back towards the car, Haymitch mumbles something about District 8, and instability. I don't fully hear whatever he's saying, since the alcohol slurs his words, and has also altered my hearing.
Effie and Gale are talking about something, but Effie turns to stare at me and cocks one of her perfectly shaped eyebrows at me. "Katniss, are you drunk?" She seems appalled at the idea that I've been drinking. "You know, that's terrible. Alcohol is not only bad for you, but it affects your actions. You are a tribute and a famous victor; you have a reputation to uphold! If you drink, who knows how bad your manners could get!" Effie is all flustered, and her wig has slanted so far to the right, that it's practically half-off her head. Clearly, she's gone from feeling bad for me, to wallowing in self-pity, to yelling at me. I just smirk at the ludicrousness of the fact that out of everything that's going on, Effie's chastising me because she's worried about how me drinking might affect my manners. Like I really care.
"So, what? I can do what I want. Given the circumstances, I'm pretty sure I'm allowed to get as drunk as I'd like. And even if I'm not supposed to, who really gives a shit?" I take another large gulp of the bottle, to prove my point. Effie is clearly appalled by my lack of manners, but I don't have the capacity to deal with her etiquette rules right now. "Also, all my friends are murderers, so people aren't going to stop me." I see Gale nod and shrug in agreement. I walk to my train compartment and slam the door, not coming out for lunch or dinner.
Around eleven, Gale comes in my room, and sits down next to me in my bed. He wraps his arm around me, and I lay on his chest. Someone might mistake this gesture for romantic affection, but it's not. If Gale still has feelings, he's smart enough to not bring them up, or even hint at them. I know it's just the right thing to do, (Effie would compliment his etiquette) but I honestly appreciate it. Everyone seems to want to fuck me – it's tiring. All I really want to do is hug someone and just have a friend. That's why I'm so fortunate to have Gale. We say nothing, but the absence of words speaks fine for itself. There aren't any words to describe how screwed up everything is right now. And there is no solution. No matter how this ends, it won't end well. I have to give Snow some credit – I don't think anyone saw this coming, and it's perfect. Everyone will be devastated, no matter who the winner is. He really is evil, but is very good at doing just that.
After what seems like a lifetime, Gale finally says something. "You know, no matter what happens, it's always gonna be you and me. It's been you and me since I found you in the woods that winter six or seven years ago. I know, I know. You have Abs Odair, and I really like Cashmere, but that doesn't mean we've never had anything." He looks at my face to try and read my expression. I'm very confused. "Look, what I'm saying is that you're always gonna be my best friend, and no matter who wins this – whether its you or me or someone else, knowing you has been amazing, and I'm so glad to have been your friend." I tear up a little, and it's so sweet, I kiss Gale on the forehead. He hugs me tightly.
I fall asleep, and when I wake from a nightmare involving the victor-tributes from Districts 5 and 6, Gale is gone. I'm wide awake, my heart is pounding, and my forehead is shiny with sweat. I order some tea, and drink it one gulp, ignoring the burning sensation on my tongue. I feel the sleep syrup that I added begin to kick in, and I drift out of consciousness again. That doesn't last long, and around three in the morning, I give up and down the rest of the bottle of alcohol, letting it put me to sleep. It's not a half-bad idea.
When I wake, we're about half an hour away the Capitol, and it's almost noon. I take a quick shower, and fix my makeup. I have to look perfect. Somehow, I'm not hung over at all, and can focus on what I'm doing. I put on a tight yellow skirt and matching pumps with a short white jacket. My makeup is subdued – a pale reddish pink lipstick and some grey eyeliner. I don't even bother with a shirt since the jacket's zipped up. When I see Effie, she still seems a bit mad at me, but a lot less than yesterday. She even compliments my outfit choice. My pride stops me from apologizing, I still don't think I'm in the wrong. Then again, Effie isn't either. Whatever.
We pull into the station, and the crowd is going crazy for both of us. I smile and wave at them, moving my hips a little more than usual when I walk. I know how to act in the Capitol, and it's different from how I act back in 12. Gale still hasn't figured out how to do that, and he doesn't interact with the fans at all. I pout my lip a little. That's no way for him to get sponsors.
The training center lobby is packed, with everyone coming in at the same time. The escorts seem out of place, with the majority of the victors and mentors the same age, and both older than the escorts. The escorts don't really let anyone talk to other districts. It's weird, seeing the mentors I've seen over and over, and not being able to even say hi. I see Gloss and Cashmere, and I just give them a small smile and wave a little. I can't even go over to them. Gloss nods at me, and Cashmere smiles at me, then winks at Gale, who blushes. "You like her." I tease him gently. He says nothing, but cracks a smile. I look across the room, and see the back of a familiar bronze-haired boy. Finnick. I can't stop myself, and I'm running across the large open room. All eyes are focused on me, but I don't care. As I get closer, he turns around, and smiles. I hug him tightly, and he picks me up and spins me around. I squeal a little, and notice his district escort give me a dirty look. I don't really care. I give him a quick but passionate kiss. "Hey." I smile at him.
"Hey yourself." He responds playfully, yet there's an underlying sadness to his tone. Not that it's unexpected. "I missed you. You look good." Finn looks me up and down. His escort tells him that he needs to go, and he rolls his eyes. He pulls me in for a longer kiss, and I don't pull away until I realize that I need to breathe.
"Get a room!" Gloss yells. Cashmere giggles, but says nothing. I laugh, and stroke Finn's cheek.
"See you later." I turn away, and walk back to Effie, Haymitch and Gale. I ignore the stares of everyone in the room, and walk over to my team. "What?" I ask them. They don't say anything, and we make our way to the very familiar training center apartments. "I've spent too much time here." I frown at Haymitch. He laughs.
"You've spent too much time here? Okay." He rolls his eyes dramatically. He's spent 25 years coming back here every year, this is my third.
"I lost my virginity here." I point out. I hear Gale make a gagging noise.
"We knew that, sweetheart." Haymitch chuckles.
I huff, stubbornly. "That doesn't mean I like it here."
Effie pouts, sounding personally offended. "Whats wrong with the Capitol?"
"It's not the Capitol Effie... it's that I'm going to be in the arena with a bunch of my friends." The first part is a complete lie, but she doesn't need to know that. I walk into my room and drop my bag, coughing at the overwhelming smell of roses. Draped on my bed is a black dress and an address. Great. "Looks like I won't be here for long." I roll my eyes. Haymitch pats my shoulder. "I don't even know why I need to, I'm already dead."
"Katniss, don't even start." Haymitch warns me. "I've seen what happens first hand. Just get it over with." Effie just looks confused. It's one, I'm meeting with Cinna at three. I assume this appointment will last an hour, and I'll get back here in time. I slide into my prep team's keeping at 3:01. They all seem happy to see me, but they're very unhappy with the Quell. Venia can't stop crying, and Octavia is sniffling. Flavius manages to hold it together. They work on me in silence, waxing the stubble on my legs and underarms, and soaking me in various creams and solutions. They pluck my eyebrows, trim the split ends off my hair, and paint my nails a deep purple. My makeup is dark and smoky, with purples, greys and blacks. When it's done, they bring me to Cinna.
When he walks in, I jump up and hug him, ignoring the fact that I'm only in my underclothes. I don't know what to say, so I just embrace him tightly until he pulls away. "It's good to see you Katniss. I've missed you. I hate to see you like this. How are you?" Cinna gives me this sympathetic look that makes me feel like I'm a kicked puppy or abandoned baby.
"Honestly, I'm not that good. Actually, I'm worse than that. I'm miserable. But let's not even talk about that. I don't wanna wallow in self-pity." I give Cinna a small close-mouthed smile in an attempt to prove that I'll be alright. I don't know if it works, so I change the subject. "So what's with the makeup?" I ask him. The creams and pinks have been replaced with purple in black.
"Well, you're not a little girl anymore. You and your cousin, Gale are going to be the youngest ones in there. I figured it couldn't hurt to have you look mature. You've gone through a lot these past two years." Cinna explains and then pauses for a minute, contemplating something for a minute. His voice drops to a much quieter tone "I've seen photos in the press, I'm not ignorant like most of us Capitol people. I know what you have to do, and I'm so sorry." I start to tear up again. I've been pretty emotional these past few weeks. Cinna strokes my cheek, and kisses my forehead. "Don't you dare mess up your eye makeup. It's gonna be okay. Now, lets get onto your costume." Cinna puts me in a translucent dark grey body suit, with flecks of black coal-powder placed to cover me. There's a little button on my wrist. Cinna pushes it, and I stare at my reflection in the mirror, stunned. "You're not on fire. This time you're the fire."
I'm speechless. "Wow. It's... amazing." I look so different from how I did two years ago. Not in the literal sense – I grew an inch, gained quite some weight, and filled out in my breasts and hips. But instead of the pale pink lipstick I have dark purple. Instead of crème blush and a little eyeliner, I have long fake eyelashes (which look like small caterpillars) and dark smoky eyes with kohl eyeliner, deep color on my defined cheekbones and penciled-in eyebrows. I look a lot more mature. I don't even recognize myself. "Thank you." I'm not sure what I'm thanking him for, whether it's his genius ideas and designs, or his ways of helping me in the toughest times when I need it the most. Gale's in an identical outfit, but it's been altered for a guy. He doesn't have any makeup, but they put some type of gel in his hair to stand up a bit more than usual. My hair is straightened and in a sleek high ponytail. Not one strand is out of place.
When we get to the waiting area with the chariots, everybody is talking to each other. I'm caught off guard. Of course they are, they know each other. Haymitch is talking to Chaff, and his arm around Johanna, who's wearing a tree costume. Somebody squeals my name, and I turn around. It's Cashmere, Gloss and Blight. She's wearing a silk wine colored gown, and Gloss is wearing a matching suit. Luxury. The twins are classically beautiful – of course they can pull it off. She compliments my outfit, and hugs Gale, kissing him smack on the lips. Blight looks amused. Gloss smirks at me. "So, I think everyone saw you earlier this afternoon. Jeez, you and Odair can't keep your hands off each other." He looks like he's about to say something, but just yells "Holy shit." Everyone turns around to stare. Before I can askwhy, I feel a pair of hands snake around my waist and suck on my neck. "Nice outfit." Gloss laughs. I turn around, and meet Finnick's lips with mine. Somebody coughs loudly and I pull away. I look him up and down.
"Finnick, what the hell are you wearing?" I ask him, not sure whether I want to laugh or pity him. He's draped in a golden net that's strategically knotted at his groin. He can't be considered naked, but he's about as close as you can get. Finn's stylist might think that less is more with him. He looks hot. "Not that I really mind it." I admit.
"I like what you're wearing. You look absolutely terrifying. I like it, but I think it would look a lot better on my floor." He purrs. Cashmere shakes her head, laughing. He startles, as if he's remembering something. "Oh! I forgot to ask you. Want a sugar cube?" He opens his hand, and I see he has a stack of about twenty of them. "They're supposed to be for the horses, but who cares? They have years to eat sugar, whereas you and I; all of us – well if we see something sweet we better grab it quick." He drapes an arm around me, and turns to everyone else. "So, what are we doing tonight?"
"Let's stay in, just tonight." Gloss suggests. "We can drink some ridiculously expensive wine and gripe about our pathetic lives." Nobody can reply because the music has started. Gale and I make our way to the chariots. We switch on the costumes, and I notice all eyes are fixed on us. If they weren't already from both of my very public displays of affection with Finn earlier, and Gale's with Cashmere. Nobody knew that they had anything, except for within our friend group. My relationship has been in the tabloids.
The crowd cheers when they see us, and they go crazy. Just like they did when I had my fake-fire costume with Peeta two years ago. But Gale and I just stare at some imaginary point in the distance. We are above them. Finally, I can act like myself in the Capitol. It seems that even President Snow's eyes are focused on us, even during his speech. Directly after, we're escorted onto the elevator by very agitated Capitol attendants. They seem to have disliked the fact that the tributes were talking to each other. I see Johanna on line. She takes off her tree-branch crown and unzips her dress, stepping out of it. She just doesn't care. Johanna makes it into our elevator. She continues on to start a conversation with us in nothing but her green slippers. "Ugh. I hate my stylist. She's been putting us in repulsive tree costumes for the past forty years. When the elevator stops at 7, she proceeds to give me a hug, unaffected by her lack of clothes. "See you two after dinner." The doors close behind her. Gale and I turn to each other and burst out in simultaneous laughter.
I change into a black slip and put one of Finn's button-downs over it. I wipe off most of my makeup too, except for whats on my eyes. Effie seems shocked by my outfit, neither Gale nor Haymitch are fazed by it. That seems to be the majority of what I wear now anyways, and they've seen a lot more of me then Effie has. Cinna and Portia join us for dinner. We have a delicious strawberry soup, some type of vegetable salad, and each of us get a miniature turkey in a creamy sauce. I hate the Capitol with a burning passion, but I love their food. We all drink some red wine with dinner, except for Haymitch, who has his liquor. Before we even get to dessert, I feel a bit ill. I excuse myself and run to the bathroom, where all of the previous courses make a reappearance. Gale comes in, and helps me up. "What the hell? You're not even sick – you've been eating healthy, exercising, and you aren't even drunk. Why would you be throwing up?" He seems as puzzled as me, and calls for Haymitch.
Haymitch, who's more sober than usual, comes in and seems equally concerned. He's speaking with Gale in hushed tones, leaving me confused. "Not that I really want to know, or care, but when was the last time you got your girl stuff?"
I pause, thinking about it. My period's always been a little off. Sometimes, I wouldn't get it for four, five months from the fact I've been so starved. The last time I've got it was a while ago. "Two weeks before the Quell was announced." I realize why he would ask. "Oh god. I'm not pregnant or anything. I'm so careful with what I do. I wouldn't let that happen with any of them, and Finnick wouldn't either. There hasn't been a time where-" I cut myself off. "There was this one time, right after the Quell was announced. We were really drunk, and I don't remember if we used protection. I don't think we did." I grip the edge of the toilet. "Holy shit." I whisper, in shock. "Maybe I am."
A/N: Writing this is actually really emotional. Hope you liked it! If you did, please review :D