I am very happy to see that lots of people have been looking at the story! Tell me what you want to see! Reviews make me really happy!
Anyway, I'm trying to introduce victors because Fern will meet Haymitch, Finnick, Cashmere and all those people pretty soon! Tell me what else you want to see happen. YAY! I'm so excited. This chapter was pretty long but I kind of like it.
Bye! Thanks for reading, REMEMBER TO REVIEW! ;) ;)
~Meghan
4/18/15: I think I had taken parts of this chapter from Catching Fire, so I changed some, and I also altered another piece for other reasons. Sorry 'bout that. Enjoy. Thanks!
Chapter XII
A Victor's Party
- The Capitol -
"But I really don't want to."
"Do you want to tell that to President Snow?" Gallus challenges, cocking an eyebrow. Some red glitter from his eyelid falls onto his sharp cheekbone. "The polls they ran in Capitol Daily said that the citizens want to see earrings on you. It isn't up for discussion."
I grimace, looking at the contraption in Maxima's hand that Priscus called a "needle gun." Even the name is disturbing.
"I just don't see why I should punch holes in my ears," I mumble.
Back home, most of us never do something so impractical and painful. Wouldn't it just caught in work equipment? I know some women in the upper social circles will, and I know that people in the Capitol pierce just about anything they can. I even saw a stylist with each eyebrow lined with gemstone studs in her face. Gallus himself has sparkling diamonds through each earlobe.
I reach up into my short red hair, rubbing my own unpierced earlobes. "It'll hurt."
"The sedative will make it practically painless," Gallus argues. He nods to Aurelia. "Let's get started."
I stop arguing and let Aurelia first disinfect and then rub an ointment on my earlobes. They go practically numb, and I resist the urge to touch them. I try to not fidget on the table.
Maxima gives me an apologetic look before holding up the gun to my ears. With an expertly still hand, she pulls the trigger twice.
Priscus lets me squeeze his hand each time, patting me on the wrist when Maxima dabs away the blood with gauze squares. It almost makes me laugh at how ridiculous I feel. I got injured worse in the arena over and over, but a little needle scares me? I survived getting impaled with a trident, even if I don't have the scars anymore to show for it.
Strange that the Capitol patches us up, and then damages us again where they want.
"You're so brave," Priscus assures me once Maxima puts two sapphire earrings into my ears. "Our little courageous victor."
I'm not given a chance to reply before the prep team is swirling around me, getting me ready for my interview. My makeup is done in darker shades, highlighting where cheekbones are not usually prominent and making my green eyes practically glow. My eyelashes are long and a tad glittery, an alluring effect every time I blink. Even my lips are glossed in such a way that it makes then fuller and redder.
I glance at Gallus as he unzips the black dress bag. "This makeup is different than usual."
"President Snow's idea," he answers simply.
Gallus pulls out a sleek, obsidian gown with fabric clingy to the touch. My prep team slips it over my head, pulling and adjusting until they're satisfied. Priscus runs, grabbing glossy black shoes with knife-like high heels.
"Where's the glitter?" Aquaria demands, an excited smile on her face. She finds a tub of luminous shimmer and dips a brush into it, dragging the tickling bristles artfully across my body. Suddenly I realize how much of my skin this dress must be revealing as she paints glitter on my back.
When I'm allowed to finally to look in the mirror, I'm not sure what to say.
The dress is obviously meant to be sexy, no question about that.
The tight black fabric hugs every curve I have. It has a high neckline in the front, going up to my collarbones, but in the back it swoops down to the bottom of my spine. A slit on the side of the skirt exposes a pale leg up to the middle of my thigh, but it looks even longer with the high heels elongating my legs. The glitter shimmers ever so slightly each time I turn, catching and casting light. My dramatic makeup makes me look at least twenty-five. My hair has been tousled, left down, looking chic and edgy.
It is not at all me. Then again, not many of the dresses I've worn have been. But this one especially makes me feel exposed.
"Stunning," Gallus says proudly, folding his arms. "President Snow will be pleased."
I remember what my stylist said earlier. President Snow's idea
The thought makes my stomach roil. This dress isn't for me. It's for the people in the Capitol that Snow is looking to sell me in. This dress is how he's advertising the merchandise: me.
Aurelia gasps when she sees my expression. "Don't be nervous, darling!" She shakes her head, clasping my hands in her own. "Deep breaths! Do you want a pill?"
I shake my head. I just want to go home.
"The finishing touches," Gallus says, snapping his fingers once.
Aurelia smiles up at me as Maxima and Priscus bring over two boxes, one bigger than the other. Gallus opens the first box and pulls out the golden crown I wore months ago. He places it on top of my tousled hair. The next box reveals the necklace with the small golden ax that Snow gifted me. I taste bile when I see it.
"He's asked that you wear it for the party," Gallus says, not needing to specify who this he is.
My stylist clips the necklace around my throat, letting it lie flat against the black fabric of my dress. He nods at me once. "Ready."
I want to cry. But I think I'm all out of tears.
- The Training Center Stage -
"Ladies and gentleman, you know you love her! Welcome to the stage the District Seven victor of the Seventy-third Hunger Games, Fern Redwood!"
The crowd roars in excitement as I strut out on stage, putting one high-heeled stiletto in front of the other seamlessly, just like Ilis has ordered me. The lights are bright and dazzling. Behind them, a sea of colorfully dressed people wave and blow kisses. Their faces are hard to see because of the lights, and I'm grateful.
I can't help but wonder how many betted on my death in the arena.
I give them all a wave as if they were my best friend who I haven't seen in a while. When I reach Caesar, I give him a hug, drawing coos of delight from the audience.
"And how stunning do you look?" Caesar Flickerman says, motioning to my gown.
The audience screams their agreement.
I wave my hand, silently begging for him to let me sit down. The interviews are something I've gotten better at after how many I did in the aftermath of the arena, but I still find my palms sweating. Being in front of the Capitol is different than being in front of cameras. "Gallus has outdone himself tonight."
"Quite right!" Caesar laughs, thankfully going ahead and taking my sweaty hand to help me sit down. He takes his own seat, turning towards me. His eyebrows, lips and hair are still dyed this year's color of blood-red crimson. "I feel like it's been ages since we sat together here."
"Too long," I lie, smiling.
Caesar glances to the audience and then back at me. "I think I speak for all of Panem when I say, I have to know how you're adjusting to being home in District Seven. Have you befriended the other victors?" The audience cheers in support.
That I don't have to lie about. "They're wonderful. They have welcomed me with open arms and are showing me the ropes of being a victor. There's never a dull moment back home, that's for sure."
"I'll bet, especially with a mentor like fiery Johanna Mason," Caesar says, drawing laughter from the audience.
The screens flash to show Johanna's face as she smirks, waving a hand adorned in claw-like nails at everyone before it cuts back to me.
"Speaking of adjusting," Caesar begins, giving me a curious look, "have you discovered your talent to help you settle back home?"
I bite my lip and taste strawberry gloss. Victors are expected to develop a talent, seeing as we don't go to school or work anymore. I haven't been able to find a single one yet. The whole thing has been at the back of my mind as the Victory Tour crept closer. "That's actually a surprise. You'll have to wait and see," I say, doing my best to pull a mysterious look.
Caesar give a secretive smile that tells me he knows I don't have one, but plays along, much to my relief. "Well, I for one expect to know the instant you find it!"
The crowd cheers in support and I laugh.
"You'll be the first to know," I assure him.
"So sweet," Caesar says, swatting the air in mock bashfulness, eliciting more laughter from the audience. "And how are you feeling, being back in the Capitol?"
I hate it.
I beam at the audience. "There's nowhere I'd rather be."
- President Snow's Mansion -
President Snow's Mansion is probably the largest building I've been in, aside from the Training Center.
The ceiling is probably four stories high. It's decorated with glimmering lights to look like the star-studded sky of District 7. I wonder if the Capitol sky looks like this. I can't ever really see the stars here, since the Capitol itself is always so bright. It's comforting being underneath the same constellations that Mama and Pine are looking at tonight.
Person after person approaches me, each one dressed more ridiculously than the next. They kiss my cheeks like they know me and praise my "performance" in the arena. Some of them I recognize from my party after the Games, the same few people who had sponsored me. My sponsors ask for pictures, but I know it isn't really a question, it's not like I can say no.
Johanna eventually links her arm with mine as if we were friends walking to school together. "Sorry to steal her, but the victor needs to try some of these dishes."
The crowd that had been clouding around me chuckles happily, giving me pats on the shoulder.
"Thank you," I whisper to my mentor.
She shrugs. "They're vultures." She pulls me over to tables laden with so much food I don't even know if the entire crowd can consume it all tonight. "It's your party. You might as well enjoy it."
I can't help but lick my lips, my eyes scanning the delicious platters of enticing food. As much as I hate what the Capitol does, even I have to to admit that their food is incredible. I end up spending the most time at one table eating a sweet chocolate-and-sugar swirled drink with what looks like sparkling stardust on top.
"I can't believe they eat like this all the time," I say after I've swallowed the last of my second chocolate drink.
Johanna nods. She sits down in a nearby chair, her silver evening gown swirling around her ankles. She doesn't cross them like Ilis would want and instead sits back. "They certainly know how to throw a party, that's for sure."
I glance around the table for more food. I end up spending a lot of my time eating a roasted ham that's like flavored with honey before moving onto a sour purple soup decorated with floating honeysuckles.
My prep team appears, their eyes bright with excitement. It isn't every day that they get to party at President Snow's Mansion, I suppose.
"How's the food?" Maxima asks me.
I pat my stomach. "So good. I can't eat another bit."
Priscus covers his mouth as he giggles.
"What?" I ask. I feel silly all of a sudden.
"You aren't eating anymore," Aurelia says, stifling a laugh like it's the funniest thing she's seen.
I nod. "I'm full."
Aurelia and Priscus burst out laughing, and for a moment I wonder if they're drunk.
Out of the corner of my eye, I watch as the crowd parts and a familiar face with white hair walks towards me. I curl my fists together, forcing myself to stay calm as President Snow stops a foot away from me, leaning in as if we were casual friends.
"So good to see you again, Miss Redwood," he says. His puffy lips curve up into a smile.
For a moment I can only stare at the white rose in his lapel. I breathe through my mouth, hating how the rose's scent becomes overpowering. But then I remember all the cameras that circle the ballroom. My behavior is under scrutiny and President Snow can do whatever he likes to family if I don't act how he wants.
So I force a smile as convincing as I can. "You too. It's been so long."
"I see you've been mingling with some of our guests," Snow adds. He smiles towards someone as they pass. "Getting to know the Capitol gentry?"
"I'm doing my best to thank those who supported me," I respond diplomatically. I think Ilis would be proud if he heard me.
Snow's blue eyes narrow, glinting as he smiles. "How thoughtful indeed." He leans closer as if were sharing a secret. "I have a gentleman I want you to meet. He's an old friend, part of the Capitol's finest citizens. I think you two will find you have... much in common."
I bite back my retort with a smile. I don't think I have anything in common with anyone in the Capitol. "I'd be delighted."
Snow offers me his arm and I don't hesitate to tuck my hand in the crook of his elbow. My skin crawls at the feeling of his velvet suit sleeve under my fingers, but I try to smile fondly and flutter my fingers at the other guests who smile when they see us.
The crowd moves for President Snow, some raising their glasses to us. He waves to them, promising to return for conversations.
"Carus, there you are," Snow calls to a man standing with a purple-skinned woman. "You're a hard man to get ahold of tonight."
The man chuckles, shaking his head. "I always have time for you, Coriolanus, we both know that."
President Snow motions demurely to me. "Allow me introduce Miss Fern Redwood. Miss Redwood, I'd like you to meet Carus Cardew."
The man - Carus - gives me a polite smile. His artificially golden eyes crinkle. I'm surprised to find that his eyes seem to be the only altered thing about him. His suit is silky and dark with a plum collar, something only found in the Capitol, but the rest of him looks... normal. Human. Those lines around his eyes are unfashionable here in the Capitol, where they do operations to make their skin look completely smooth and young. His hair is silver, too natural looking to seem dyed.
He would seem out of place here, if it weren't for the fancy suit.
Even the way he's standing is so casual, here in the presence of the president. He takes a sip from his glass of amber liquid.
It's a stark difference from the woman next to him with gems set into the skin under her eyes. She brushes Carus' shoulder with a gloved hand. "I'll see you another time," she says. She glances at me with a thin smile. "Fern." And then she's vanishing into the crowd.
"It's a pleasure to meet you, Miss Fern," he says.
I tilt my head in thought. His accent doesn't sound like everyone else here.
"I'm sorry if I sound a bit funny," he laughs as if noticing my confusion. "I spend a lot of my time in District Two. I suspect I may have picked up the accent a bit. I do love the District Seven accent, though, it's quite charming."
President Snow turns to smile down at me. "I'll leave you two to chat." Just as I start to remove my arm, he leans down during a swell of music. "You look beautiful tonight, Miss Redwood. Don't let it go to waste."
I feel numb as President Snow pats my wrist and disappears behind me. When I look up, Carus simply shakes his head.
"I'm sorry, he can be a bit intimidating, can't he?" Carus says.
My eyebrows rise. It's not common to hear people in the Capitol making comments like that about President Snow. Out of reflex, I check over my shoulder, but everyone is enjoying the music and gossiping away.
Carus nods toward his glass. "Care for a drink?"
I swallow and shake my head. "No, thank you."
"How about a dance then?
I hesitate. Then a camera floats near and I plaster a bright smile on my face. "I'd love to."
Carus sets his nearly full glass on a tray as an Avox walks by. He moves with me through the crowd to the dance floor, a smile on his face the whole way.
A group of musicians in glittering suits sit atop what looks like a cloud, floating twenty feet above the rest of us. They strum stringed instruments more delicate than what we play back home in District 7. It's light and airy, mesmerizing in how delicate it sounds.
"So, what did you do back before the Games?" Carus asks as he faces me. He places one hand gingerly at my waist, the other on my bare back.
I try to keep the embarrassed blush from creeping across my face, but it does anyway. Copying the other couples, I place my hands on his shoulders and stare at his plum collar, unable to meet his eye. "I worked in the paper mill and went to school."
"A hard worker, then," he responds. He steps back, guiding me to the music. The dance is foreign to me, so formal and stiff.
I finally raise my eyes up to the man's. "I suppose so."
"I like people who can put in effort," he says. His lips curve into a smile like he knows something I don't. "I work in administration here. It's quite a stressful job. I'm always looking for a new outlet to relax. You must know how that is. Tell me, have you seen the salt pools here in the Capitol?"
I shake my head. "No, Mr. Cardew."
He laughs, moving us gently around in a slow spin. "Oh, no need for those formalities. You can call me Carus. May I call you Fern?"
I smile out of reflex it's almost so funny. Does he think I'm allowed to say no? When President Snow brought me to him for who knows why? "Of course."
"I could arrange for you to see the salt pools next time you come back to the Capitol, Fern," Carus says.
Vis Lumen comes back to my mind, when he talked about teaching me how to swim in the dams in District 5. The way he looked at me shyly had an innocence to it, something spontaneous and genuine. Flirting.
This feels different.
Carus Cardew must be in his late forties. He's old enough to be my father.
His words feel practiced, not like the way Vis spoke. And when he looks at me with his artificially gold eyes, it feels so different from the way Vis glanced at me back in the Justice Building of District 5.
But I smile as if he was charming. A camera floats in the distance, capturing our dance. "That would be wonderful. I'd like to learn how to swim."
"I'd love to teach you," Carus says. His eyes move from mine for the first time, tracing the outline of my body.
I keep staring ahead, trying to keep moving to the delicate music. Beneath the tight black fabric, it feels like my skin is writhing underneath Carus Cardew's gaze.
He looks back at me.
I force myself to meet his eyes.
"I heard the announcement about your nineteenth birthday," Carus tells me.
I force my head to nod.
He smiles. His hand on my back pushes a bit, hot on my skin, drawing me so close I have to move my arms around his neck. I want to strangle him right here in the middle of ballroom. "So much is old here in the Capitol," Carus says. He smiles. "A lot of people here try to fight it, and they do all kinds of things you can't imagine to hold onto the illusion of youth. But I like real things, Fern."
His hand tightens ever so slightly on my waist, and it takes every ounce of self control not to make myself shove him away.
"Real youth," I say so softly I wonder if he heard me.
"You seem real to me," he whispers. I can smell the bittersweet drink still on his breath. His thumb traces a single circle over the small of my back. "I hope we'll see each other again, Fern."
The music begins to draw to a close and Carus steps away, taking my hand lightly in his and pressing his lips to it once. With that, he walks away.
I blink hard, trying to push down the luxurious food threatening to come back up.
Across the dance floor, my eyes connect with another pair, brown and calculating.
Johanna stares at me, frozen in place. She turns to watch as Carus Cardew melds with the rest of the Capitol. I almost expect her to come over to me, to put her arm around me and keep me safe. I want her to. But she just stands there while another songs starts.
A camera drifts nearby.
I pull my shoulders back and put a smile on my face.
- Training Center, Floor 7 -
I rip the victor's crown off the second I shut my bedroom door.
When I fling it across the room, the golden circle hits the windows and drops pathetically to the carpet with barely a noise.
Outside the streets are filled with celebration, lights beaming around the Capitol buildings with people tossing confetti from their balconies. Music pulses throughout the city square, people dancing through the main avenues. It has to be two o'clock now but the Capitol never finds it too late for a party. Back home we'd already be asleep, the electricity regularly shut off at night.
I shake my head, kicking off my heels with a vengeance, and head to the shower.
Somehow, I feel less exposed when I pull the dress off. Even being naked makes me feel less vulnerable than that dress.
I turn the water as hot as I can take. It burns my skin until I'm fiery red, but I shiver, hugging myself and watch all the glitter swirl down the drain. No matter how hot the water is, I can't seem to shake the feeling of Carus Cardew's touch off my skin. It's like his hands are engraved on me and no amount of water can help me feel clean of it.
The tears come before I even realize I'm crying.
I had thought I was all out of tears, but they run down my face and mix with the shower water.
My knees seem to give out and I crouch on the tile floor of the shower, crying until my throat hurts. With all the steam and scalding water, I could almost forget I'm in the Capitol, but the pain brings me back to reality. This is real. Is this my life now?
I wrap my arms around my knees, curling up in a ball and sit there with my back against cold glass shower wall for who knows how long.
The victors always seemed like the lucky ones. How wrong I was.
I think I died in the arena.
I think I died when Lexi died, and when I killed Cleo, and then again when I watched Tide's head roll down the cliff. Or maybe I just wish I did die.
When I finally turn off the water I can still hear the Capitol celebrating.
- District 7 -
By the time we return to District 7 I'm so ready to get back to Pine and Mama I could scream.
But I'm not allowed to see them until the dinner tonight.
"Fern!" Ilis calls, knocking on my door. "Let's get moving!"
I stop looking out of my window. Outside, our train is slowly coming to a halt at the train station, tall fir trees on the side covered in a fresh snow. Outside, a small crowd has gathered to wave and cheer as I go to the waiting car. Johanna hops in after me, kicking her feet up as she takes up a whole bench seat. Ilis gives her a disapproving look, and opens up his mouth to complain but then seems to think better and press his lips in a thin line.
It feels good to finally be home. Part of my brain reminds me that this isn't the end of my trips to the Capitol, but I ignore it for today. For now, I'm home.
"Mayor Fourdriner has set aside rooms for us to prepare in," Ilis tells us.
I tune him out as we drive through District 7. People stop and wave when they see the car, and I wave back even though I think the windows are too dark for them to see me. At the Justice Building, where the victory rally will take place tomorrow, banners are hung. With a start I realize I'm on the banners.
It's strange. A year ago I was in school, I was just another cog in the District 7 machine.
Now everyone in Panem knows my name.
When we stop at the mayor's house, I climb out of the car first, eager to distract myself from my thoughts.
"Hello, Miss Fern," Mayor Fourdriner says cheerily. "Ready for dinner?"
"Yes, sir," I answer, forcing myself to smile.
Mayor Fourdriner is well-known around here. His dark brown hair has become peppered with gray, and lines crinkle around his mouth, but he still smiles with a kind of optimism so many people seem to lack. His wife and four kids are also present, dressed in their Reaping Day finest. I don't have the opportunity to congratulate his daughter on the new wooden engagement ring around her finger.
Instead, Ilis sweeps me inside the mayor's house.
The mayor's house is four stories tall, fancy with brick and flowers in planters outside each window. Inside, the most expensive furniture from our district is set up. I'm hurried up the sweeping wooden staircase and past the mayor's private office. The mayor's house is nice. It's decidedly very un-Capitol, which I guess is why I find myself relaxing. No cameras will be here with us tonight. Instead, families across Panem will be watching footage of me at the President's Mansion instead.
Johanna's footsteps come up behind us.
Gallus isn't far behind, and then the prep team. "I'm dressing Johanna first," he informs me. "She'll entertain the mayor and his family while we get you ready."
Ilis gasps, clapping his hands loudly. "That's so exciting, Johanna! Remember when you were here two years ago? You'll be able to tell the mayor how it was to mentor a winner now."
"Oh goody," Johanna sneers.
Gallus starts to push her a little harder than necessary into a room across the hall. "We'll be here if you need us."
Johanna glances over at me. "But try not to."
I think she expects me to laugh, but I don't. I just blink at her. The music from President Snow's mansion plays in my head for a moment, and I can see Johanna standing there in the crowd watching as Carus Cardew puts his hand on me. She saved me from the arena but she couldn't save me from him. Why does it seem so much worse?
I turn away before I can think about it anymore, letting Ilis shut the door to the bedroom.
Inside the room it's a much more inviting place than my room back at the Training Center. It's simple. Simple, I've realized, is the opposite of what the Capitol likes. But here it's cozy with a canopy bed, the soft pink covers turned down, a wooden vanity painted in white put in the corner. Outside the window, the sun is setting across 7, painting the bedroom gold.
It's not a bad place to wait until my prep team and Gallus descend on me with their brushes, tweezers and paints.
But they come for me eventually. Gallus has me twirl in the tall mirror in the corner of the room. He's designed a floor-length, powder-pink ballgown for tonight. Gemstones line the bodice up the sweetheart neckline. The same color is reflected in the shimmery pink, minimal makeup and simple lace shawl. The prep team has also taken the time to curl my short hair into ringlets, a single piece twisted back with a simple clip to frame my face.
"Like a princess," Aurelia sighs. She presses her hands to her heart and beams at me.
"The finishing touch," Gallus says, moving to help me into slippers complete with silky ribbons. "I wanted a change for your homecoming. Last night you were the femme fatale. Tonight you're the belle of the ball."
I nod, swishing my skirt in the mirror. It's a definite contrast to last night. This dress has an air of innocence about it, like something from a fairy tale. I can't help but feel like the innocence angle is a complete lie. Everyone downstairs saw me fight and kill tributes in the arena. Innocence isn't an option anymore.
- District 7 -
The Harvest Festival kicks off with my victory rally.
Little kids cheer, running around all the long tables. The Capitol has paid every expense, so platters of dishes sit with coils of steam rising into the sky. No factories or mills are open today. It's a district holiday, one that we usually celebrate with our loved ones and garlands of winter flowers over our fireplaces. Now we all celebrate together.
I can remember how Pine and I excitedly tried all the food two years during Johanna's victory rally. The food in the Capitol is better, but the ones that they've given us are fit for a feast.
"I've been studying a lot of Helena's work," Gallus says to Striker's daughter.
She beams, bouncing one of her toddlers on her knee. "She was a wonderful stylist, always so kind to my father. She started the trend for District Seven to be trees during the chariot procession. I think all of the Capitol wept at her funeral."
Gallus sighs tragically. "We lost an artist the day she died."
Down our table, the other victors dine together along with my Capitol team and family. I wanted to eat with the rest of our district people, but Ilis insisted that I have to have a place of honor in front of the Justice Building. I don't care to sit close to the Justice Building. Too many bad memories of standing on the stage during Reaping Day come to mind. Sometimes I don't know if they're the memories from when I was chosen, or when I watched my sister walk up the stage. But for now I feel comforted with Mama and Pine close.
"Is the food in the Capitol like this?" Pine asks. He grins as he grabs a raspberry-colored cookie.
I nod, not having the heart to tell him otherwise.
He smiles wider and grabs another cookie.
Blight catches my eye, and I know he saw me lie. But rather than telling Pine the truth, he just gives me a quick conspiratorial smile.
My eyes flit to Blight's hand as he starts chewing on his thumbnail, his eyes looking above my shoulder. He has a bit of drifting off sometimes, his gaze gloating away to stare at something he seems to see that no one else can. Some of the kids at school used to say he seemed weird, but I've grown to realize that he's just like the other victors.
We all have different ways of coping. Some better than others.
I turn, letting Blight drift into his imaginary world. Sometimes I wish I could see what he imagines. Part of me is terrified I may one day. Part of me doesn't think it's a horrible idea.
A family approaching our table catches my attention.
For a moment, I think they're another group of well wishers but the tall man gives me pause.
His brown hair and bright hazel eyes are unmistakable. I saw those same features on my district ally back when we first were called onstage, both of our names pulled from the reaping bowl that day in July. The last time I saw those eyes was when Timber's face was shown in the sky in the arena.
I'm so dumbstruck that it takes Pine elbowing me in the ribs to make me move.
"We're so sorry to disturb you," the petite woman next to the man eye says. She smiles apologetically. One of her arms is wrapped tightly around the shoulders of the girl beside her, blonde hair held up in pigtails with gold ribbons.
I stand quickly, ignoring the looks from my fellow victors. I move away from the table, trying my best to smile at the family. "No, it's completely fine. I'm... I'm so sorry I haven't spoken to you sooner."
"We wanted to wish you a healthy Harvest Festival." Timber's mother smiles, but from this close I can see how it doesn't reach her brown eyes. There's a pain in them that I know is completely different from my own.
I swallow hard.
"I'm so sorry," I say. It doesn't seem like enough. Timber and I weren't close, and I didn't even see him die at the bloodbath, but he was the one who went into the arena with me. "He was kind."
His mother nods, taking a slow breath before giving me a sad smile. "Thank you."
"If it couldn't be him, we at least would've wanted it to be someone from our district," Timber's father says. His hazel eyes blink, and for a moment I can see Timber sitting across from me on the train as we head towards the Capitol.
"Maple?"
Pine comes up behind me, a cookie still in his hand. He nods towards Timber's sister. "We have class together. Are you enjoying the festival?"
The little girl peers at Pine curiously for a moment before shrugging.
We're all silent for a beat, the party continuing around us. But then Pine holds out the cookie in his hand. "Try these, they're incredible. Do you want to sit with me? There's a ton more at our table."
The blonde girl hesitates before looking up at her mom. The woman nods, and Maple shyly looks up at me as she steps towards Pine.
Further away, a man stands up at one of the tables. He holds up a guitar and the crowd begins to cheer. Table by table, people start to clap along as the man plays one of our district songs. A couple stands up, earning whistles and laughter as they begin to dance together, their breath billowing out in the cold air as the man twirls the woman around. More and more people begin to stand up and dance.
"Let's dance!" Pine crows over the music, motioning to Maple.
Timber's little sister looks nervously at the crowd before a smile flickers across her face. She starts to follow Pine before my brother turns to look at me.
He waves insistently, a giant grin on her face. "Fern, you too!"
I glance over at Timber's parents.
"Go ahead," his mother says gently. That same sad smile crosses her lips.
When Pine grabs my hand, I let him pull me into the center of the dancing crowd. He starts to move his feet in step to the strumming of the guitar, encouraging Maple to follow along. It takes a moment but Maple slowly begins to dance along, spinning around and letting her hair ribbons flutter.
I let myself step along to the guitar notes we've all grown up hearing.
The music is so much more different from what I heard in the Capitol. My footsteps feel more free as I dance. When I close my eyes, spinning around, hearing the clapping and laughter all around me, I could almost swear it's two years ago before I ever won the Games. I don't even know if I'm in District 7 anymore.
I don't even think I'm in Panem.