I force a smile as Darius does his fifth consecutive backflip, hoping that it will prevent him from trying at a sixth. Who would have thought that when he said he would flip over backwards to make me smile that he actually meant it?

"A realsmile Madge!" He demands.

"This is my real smile," I tell him, brushing the falling snow out of my hair. It's coming down thicker now, every inch of the district is covered in the cold white stuff.

Darius snorts at me, placing his arm around my shoulders as we continue on our walk. "Well, I'll pretend to believe you. Hey, maybe it'll be mildly enjoyable; you'll get to see the ocean for the first time. Maybe you'll even find a seashell or even a pearl."

I roll my eyes. "You don't just stumble upon a pearl while walking on the beach."

"I know that," he responds, bumping me with his hip. "And I also know your odd lifelong obsession with finding one."

It's not an obsession, I think to myself. It is true that I've always wanted to see the ocean, and ever since my father told me my name means pearl I have wanted see what a real pearl looks like before it is shined and buffed by District One. If it is as smooth and silky as the ones on my mother's necklaces.

"So," Darius interrupts my thoughts, "you never know you might get lucky and find one. And if not, at least try to enjoy the food."

We stop in front of the bakery, and Darius hugs me tightly. "I'm sorry I have to work today, but I'll make sure I'm working the Victory party when you return so I can see you when you get back." He places a warm kiss to my temple, squeezing my shoulders. "Just remember it's only a week. And we'll all be here waiting for you."

I squeeze him back tightly. "Thanks, Darius."

He leans away from me, smiling as always. "Say hello to everyone for me, would ya? I would go in but I'm already running late."

I nod once, and he kisses my cheek once more. "Really though, enjoy the food. I've heard it's divine."

The food is the last thing on my mind. I sigh loudly, waving halfheartedly as Darius walks off towards the Justice Building. I pull my scarf tighter around my neck as I retreat into the warm bakery. The bell tingles as I walk through the door, the aroma of freshly baked bread overpowering my nose.

Rye smiles at me as he finishes helping a customer before he turns and greets me with a hug. "Hey, how's the weather down there?"

I resist the urge to kick him in the shin. Growing four inches in five months is not that impressive of a feat. "Still snowing."

"Enough with the short jokes, Rye. Just be grateful you finally got your twelve year old growth spurt." A small laugh escapes me as Barley appears from the back room.

Barley's face lights up. "I got her to laugh! Hey Peeta, did you see how I got Miss Sourpuss here to actually laugh?"

Peeta walks in carefully balancing a massive tray of puff pastries. "Did you now? You must tell me your secret."

"I told Rye to can it with the constant banter of short jokes."

Rye scoffs at his older brother, who is still a good inch or two taller than him. "You just love to ruin my good times."

Barley ignores him as he starts to help Peeta unload the goodies. "So, now that the Tour is finally here, do you dread it more or less than before?"

"I'd say it's at about the same level of dread." I have admitably been a party pooper these last few weeks leading up to today. Whenever anyone brought up the Tour I felt like throwing up, and I have succeeded in annoying just about everyone with my excessive mood swings. Nerves do that me.

"It won't be so bad, Madgie," Peeta says, arranging and rearranging the patisseries in the display case. "At least you get some great food out of it."

"I know," I relent, looking over at the beautiful decorated cupcakes. "I still wish I could stay home."

Barley smiles sympathetically at me. "Hey Peeta, why don't you check out early? Rye and I got this."

"You and who now got this?!" Rye exclaims, looking at his brother with over dramatized shock. He makes a show of looking over at me and Peeta's pleading faces before his resolve visibly crumbles. "Fine," he says sluggishly, "but you owe me an entire day off next week, Pete!"

"Deal," Peeta cries out, taking off his apron and putting on his heavy hand me down coat. We link our arms together as we walk, heading straight to the apothecary shop.

"Hi Mrs. Ambrose, is Emma free?" Peeta ask politely.

The middle aged woman nods, gesturing for us to come out of the cold.

I've only been inside the apothecary's a handful of times- the only medicine we've ever needed consistently is the morphling that comes from the Capitol and is delivered directly to my father every parcel day.

The front room is very small, with only a few shelves of different medicines and herbs on display and two wooden chairs in the corner of the room, presumably for people with loved ones being treated in the backroom. There's a narrow staircase opening opposite of the chairs, much like most shops in town where their apartment must be.

"Emma!" Mrs. Ambrose calls up from the staircase. Two pairs of quick footsteps descend from upstairs, and both Emma and Grayson launch themselves at us.

"You've come to save us!" Emma yells out, holding on to me tightly.

I chuckle as I see Grayson has the same exact hold on Peeta, who is trying in vain to pry him off. "Save you from what?"

"We were bamboozled into 'early spring cleaning'," Grayson states, looking in distrust at Emma's mother. "She baited us with cookies."

"You really will do anything for sweets," Peeta says teasingly before looking up at Mrs. Ambrose. "Do you think you can spare them?"

She smiles. "Sure. Goodness knows they aren't much help anyways."

Emma quickly gives her mother a kiss on the cheek while Grayson hurriedly puts on his coat, throwing Emma's jacket at her before running outside.

"Free at last!" he shouts to the cold air.

"Oh please. You cleaned for less than an hour. Cry me a river." I tell him, throwing a snowball at him.

Suddenly a pair of gloved hands cover my eyes from behind, plunging the world into muffled grey.

"Guess who?" A voice says in a deceitfully low tone.

I sigh, shaking my head at Jude's failed attempts to disguise his voice.

I turn round quickly, placing a swift kiss to his lips. He grins down at me, shaking his head in mock disdain. "Hey, that could have easily backfired on you. What if I was Thom?"

"Yeah, what if he was Thom?" Bristel says, appearing at his side with the aforementioned Seam boy in tow.

I ignore her playful attempt at a scowl, taking a step back as I eyeball them. "Don't tell me all three of you got out of work and chores?"

"Believe it, sister," Bristel tells me, wrapping her arms tightly around her as the wind picks up.

"Jude and I had a little project we had to finish this morning, and then we met up with Bristel over at her place," Thom enlightens us.

Before I can ask what project they were working on, Jude quickly asks me, "Hey, you got any more of that green tea stuff you made last Friday?"

"Sure, I got a whole cupboard full. I can make some more you guys want? We could get out of the cold for a while too."

Everyone nods in agreement, and Emma and Grayson lead the way to the Victor's village with me and Jude straggling behind. "What were you helping Thom out with earlier?"

He shrugs his shoulders. "Nothing big. Just a favor. You'll see it soon." My eyebrows furrow in confusion, but he stops me in my tracks, letting our friends get out of hearing range. "Madge, please tell me what's wrong?"

"Nothing," I say too quickly.

He gives me a small smile, placing his hands on my shoulders. "You're the worst liar, Madge. You've been acting strange for days. You've been…distant. I felt it right now when you kissed me, how you pulled away so fast." He pauses, his emerald eyes looking up from the snow covered ground to find mine. "If it's something I've done, if I did something to upset you, you know you can tell me."

"It's nothing like that," I tell him, placing my hand over his. "Really. It's nothing you've done."

"Then what is it?" he asks, his voice patient and kind. More patient and kind than I deserve. "It's about the Tour isn't it?"

I bite my lip, unable to keep myself from looking away as I nod my head once.

"I thought so. Look, Madge, I-I know you're going to have to…present yourself in a certain way." He sighs in frustration, running a hand through his hair as he tries to form the right wording.

"Okay, I know you're going to have to be with Gale. As a couple, I mean. In front of the cameras and around people. I went into this knowing that, I knew that the rest of the country thinks you're with someone else. I know that. I also know you, and I know that you're probably beating yourself up about not wanting to hurt me. Right?"

"Yes," I admit, my voice awfully small sounding. "But you don't get it, Jude. It's not just hand holding, it has to be convincing."

"I know that, Madge. So, just look at me for a second, would ya?"

My eyes slowly move up to his, and he gently brings his hand to my face, holding my head up as he says, "I don't want you to worry about me. You do whatever you need to do in order to survive the Tour. I know it's not just going to be hand holding, I know you have to show the all of Panem how in love you are with Gale. And I don't want you to hold back, I don't want you to worry about hurting me. Because no matter what goes on during this next week, no matter what you tell the cameras or how many times you kiss him, I will be here. I will be here, Madge. Do you understand that? I'm not going anywhere."

I feel as if a boulder has been lifted from my shoulders as his words sink in, and my arms wrap around his neck tightly pulling myself closer to him. He wraps his arms around my waist, holding me in a warm and safe embrace.

"I don't deserve someone like you," I whisper in his ear, my head resting in the crook of his neck.

He shakes his head, placing his cold lips to my soft neck. "You deserve the best. Sorry that I'm all I can offer."

I pull away from him, staring into his beautiful, kind face. "You are by far the kindest, most patient person I have ever met, Jude Keres."

He grins at me. "Well, don't tell Peeta that. He prides himself on being the sweet one. Speaking of, we ought to catch up to them."

I bob my head in agreement, linking my hand with his before I lift my head up in a devious grin. "Race you."

Before he can even agree, I'm off, running through the slippery sound as fast as my numb legs will go. I hear Jude curse from behind me, yelling that I'm a cheater, and my side begins to ache as I try to hold in my laughter.

I see the group before I thought I would, nearly half way to Victor's Village.

"I win!" I shout loudly, pumping my fist in the air.

A few moments later, Jude reaches us, panting loudly as he doubles over. "Honestly, how can you take off like a bat outta hell like that."

Peeta laughs at his friend, slapping his back, "You should have seen her as a kid. She was vicious, used to demand rematch after rematch if I beat her."

"Which you hardly ever did," I remind him.

"Alright, enough you two," Thom intervenes, ruffling up my already tousled hair. "We thought the abominable snowman ate you guys. What happened, your lips got frozen together while you were trading saliva?"

Grayson erupts in laughter at the mediocre joke, and I narrow my eyes at them. "Ohreal mature there, Thom."

Grayson continues to laugh, bending over at the waist as he chortles. I scoff at his display, and I start to walk quickly towards home.

I mutter to myself as I walk in front of the group, looking up at the dark sky. A flock of birds comes into my view. They're large birds, probably geese. It's odd for them to be around here, they should have already flown south for the winter.

I stare at them, suddenly transfixed on the sight of them.

The more I stare the more their image slowly begins to morph into to something else entirely. Their bodies become larger, longer. Their beaks protrude out in an unnatural way. Their plain colored feathers turn pink, candy pink.

My foot lands oddly on a piece of ice, and I fall back onto the wet ground. The tumble has not ridden myself of the image of the pink birds, and I feel my hands go up to my ears as I close my eyes tightly, trying to force it out from my mind.

Not real not real not real.

Jude gets to me first, and I can feel his familiar hands trying to pry mine from my face. He calls my name, asks me repeatedly what's wrong. My body is shaking, and I can just barely force my eyes to blink open, looking into his worried green eyes.

"Birds." I whisper, the word like acid in my throat. "Mutts."

He's lost. He's only seen me have one flashback throughout these last few months, and I can tell by the helpless look he gives me that he doesn't understand.

Luckily, Peeta does. He kneels down beside me, taking my face in his hands. "No, Madgie. Those were just geese. They were just normal birds. They won't hurt you."

I can feel my body continue to shake, my head pounding as my brain tries to process.

"Not real?" I ask Peeta, my voice cracking in the middle.

He shakes his head. "No. Not real."

I can feel my breathing begin to return to normal, the pounding in my head reducing to aimply making the world spin, making me feel woozy and slightly intoxicated. I can see Peeta move his body instinctively to catch me, and I can feel my body begin to go limp when I see her.

She's standing not ten feet in front of me, her face unreadable. My eyebrows furrow as I look at her, something is different, something isn't right.

She still has that unearthly glow, still wearing the same white dress. But her reassuring smile is gone, and, in her hands, she holds bouquet of flowers.

White roses.

My breathe hitches, my whole body stiffing. And just as soon as Maysilee appeared, she's gone once more.

"Madge?" Peeta says, clearly confused at why I am still conscious since I always pass out after a flashback.

I ignore him, I ignore Jude and Bristel and everyone else who is looking at me in confusion and worry. I ignore them all because only one thing is on my mind.

"Snow."

I jerk myself free of Peeta and Jude's grasp, my feet racing towards Victors Village as fast as I can go. I can hear them all shout after me in confusion, but I don't allow it to faze me as I sprint through the thick snow.

I don't know why the image makes me race home, but, as I open the gate, a feeling of intense nausea sweeps over me. I make it to the door, and just as I'm about to open it, it opens for me.

"Oh, Madge, there you are!" Nora says cheerfully, as if it's perfectly normal for her to be here, opening my front door for me. "Come on in, dear. You have a visitor."

Her smile is fake, the same one she uses when collecting plates from Capitol guests, and there something in the way she's looking at me, as if warning me with her eyes that something is very wrong.

I hear the wooden gate swing open, and I quickly turn my head around to see everyone making their way down my front yard. Jude is the one that stops them, holding his arm out in front of them so none of them can pass by.

He's staring right at me, and I can see my alarm reflected back at me in his eyes. I shake my head once, a subtle yet firm gesture. A gesture that says leave. Now.

I close the door behind me, latching the lock in place before I turn to see Nora's still smiling face. "How was your morning walk?"

"Refreshing. As usual," I tell her, taking over my coat and scarf. She takes them out of my hands, her hand grasping mine tightly as she does. Up close I can see the anxiety, the fear in her face, and my stomach clenches.

There's a man standing behind her in the doorway of the kitchen, his tailored suit and eyes that are in possibly large marking him as someone straight from the Capitol. Nora places my things on the coffee table, giving me a tiny smile that is meant to be reassuring as the man gestures down the hall. "This way please, Miss Undersee."

I nod politely following the man through my home, my legs feeling more unstable underneath me with every passing step.

The moment I saw the flowers in Mays' hands, I knew who to be expecting. The notion is only more solidified by Nora and the man's presence here, but it still comes as a bit of a shock when I open the door to the study and actually find myself face to face with him.

Having only met President Snow that one brief moment after the recap of the Games, where my mind was in no state to actually take in anything, I don't know what I was expecting. Maybe I thought he traveled with an army of trumpets and banners, but all I find is a small man sitting in a chair facing me, his hair as white as his name and his head buried in a book.

And the roses. The unmistakable stench of white roses, mixed with blood. I hadn't noticed it that day on stage, but I do now, just like my father told me all those years ago when I have asked him why our president always wore a white rose in his lapel.

"There are plenty of rumors as to why he does it, Madge. I believe it suits him well. White roses, they look pure and harmless, until you get close enough to get pricked by its thorns."

Out of all the flowers to come into my childhood home over the years, never was there a single white rose.

Now I can't help but agree with my father. Just by looking at this aging man, I can see no way that he could possibly harm me. But I know better than to trust the deceiving petals.

He holds up a finger as he slowly places a satin bookmark onto the page, closing the front cover.

"Hello, Miss Undersee. Lovely to see you again." He gives me a wordless smile, and I nearly lose my breakfast right there at his feet.

"Thank you, sir, you as well."

He gestures graciously at the large wooden desk that takes up much of the room, and I place myself in the chair, my mind searching for something to calm my nerves. A delicate, calming song, an easy carefree melody that has nothing to do with death and roses.

"You know, Miss Undersee, out of the pair of you, you were the one I didn't think I would need to see, to worry about." I swallow thickly, my brain trying hard to comprehend what he's saying. "Out of the two of you… well, your motivations in the Games seemed genuine, and, at times, you did have even the best of my advisors fooled. Even I did not expect to find you gallivanting around with another young man."

He hold up a hand to me as my mouth open to protest, and my words instantly die in my throat. "It is understandable that once you found out about Mr. Hawthorne's exact degree of indifference towards you, you went on the hunt to fill that sad, little, empty place in your heart. Yet I wish to make it known that no matter how understandable it is, it is notacceptable."

"Gale is not indifferent to me," I respond, feeling the sudden overwhelming need to protect him. I don't allow his condescending tone of voice to get to me either.

Snow looks over at me again, raising an eyebrow at my defiance. "Perhaps not, but he is certainly less taken with you than the handsome new friend of yours."

I swallow thickly at the mention of Jude, and I try my hardest to recreate the look my father gives people of power when he doesn't wish to show his true feelings.

Snow continues on, oblivious or ignoring my inward struggle. "You see Miss Undersee, I have a bit of a problem. As you are well aware of, the Capitol citizens fell in love with you and Mr. Hawthorne's little love story. They truly fell in love with the both of you. And some of them paid dearly to keep you alive, to send you burn cream and food and water. And what do they get in return? The star crossed lovers are no more. Which is unacceptable. It would cause riots in the streets, outrage, and, not to mention, much anger towards the both of you."

He stops talking, tilting is head the side as he examines my stone cold face. "Yet I don't think you understand the situation at hand here."

I do understand though. Growing up, I noticed that every capitol citizen that ever stayed at my home hated one thing more than broken fingernails, and that was being taken as a fool. They were brought up to believe that they were better than us, that their small problems outweighed ours. And anytime they were crossed, any time someone showed them how wrong they were, there was hellto pay.

But before I can reply to him, he smiles at me once more, his eyes returning to the book that still lies in his lap. "Wuthering Heights, a classic. Quite a few hundred years old, I was surprised you had it in your personal collection. I haven't read it since I was a boy. I hope you don't mind me looking through it as I waited."

"Not at all, sir," I tell him, my voice not giving away how shaken I am by the sudden change of subject.

"It's a tragic tale, is it not Miss Undersee? All their woes could have been avoided if they only communicated with one another." His eyes find mine, and I feel my breath hitch as I stare into his snake-like eyes. "You see, I believe everything would be much easier if everyone were honest with one another, don't you, Miss Undersee?"

"Yes, sir."

He nods his head, standing and returning my book into its place in my bookshelf. "So I think we can make this whole situation we find ourselves in much simpler by agreeing not to lie to each other. Do you agree?"

My mouth feels dry as parchment, but still I am able to nod my head once. "Yes, I believe that would be much simpler, sir."

"Good," he replies as he gazes over my many other books on the shelf and decorations adorning the wall.

I feel my body stiffen as I watch Snow's gaze falls the large portrait I have hanging on the wall. Peeta made it for me-it's the first painting he finished with the supplies Effie gave me. It's of all of us, at a one of our Friday dinners, where we're all laughing and smiling, and the faces are so excellently crafted it looks more real than any photograph.

He stalks over the portrait, studying it as if it were a difficult puzzle. "This is a lovely painting, a party is it? What a great looking bundle of friends you have." He reaches out to tap a finger next to where Peeta's head is. "This one must be the famous Peeta Mellark, the best friend who, according to you, is like a brother. He works in the bakery, does he not?"

My body feels cold as ice as I watch him look at the smiling faces of all those I care about. I want nothing more than to tear the painting off the wall, but I somehow remain seated as I reply, "Yes, that is correct, sir."

"Hmm, and my, that must be Jude Keres. He does look just like his father. If only he inherited his common sense as well. He would have never gotten involved in things he didn't understand."

He turns then, staring me in the face with those unnatural eyes of his. "I don't think you grasp the gravity of this situation, Miss Undersee. This is not just about you putting on a good show for the Capitol. You must convince them, you must convince everyone, in every district, that you are madly uncontrollably in love. Do you understand that?"

"Yes, I understand."

"Good," he looks back at the painting, one long finger resting at the edge of the frame. "Such a fine looking group of friends. All from different paths of life. Life, it's delicate isn't it? So precious, yet so easily taken away. Something as small and insignificant as, say an oven malfunctioning and catching on fire, could take it away forever."

The hardly concealed threat makes me quake in my seat from anger and fear. "Please, don't hurt them. I'll do whatever it takes to prove to the Capitol that we are in love. I'll convince everyone in the Capitol how in love we are."

"No," he says, his voice harsh for the first time in our meeting. "You will convince everyone, in all of Panem." He pauses again, a slow smile growing on his unnaturally putrid lips. "Actually, that only will not do. You will convince me."

"Yes, sir." I comply, my voice noticeably shaky.

He takes one last fleeting look at the painting, before he passes by me, his breath hot and reeking of blood as he whispers in my ear, "I do hope you don't fail to impress me."

And as soon as he came crashing into my happy little world, he's gone.

I sit in my chair for a while longer, my head reeling. My eyes stare at the spot where Snow placed my book, the desire to throw it into the fire growing stronger with every passing moment.

How could I be so careless? I knew, I knew I would never be allowed to live a normal life, I knew I what being allowed to live meant. I knew that my life was no longer my own, and that I was to be a play thing, a piece of entertainment for the Capitol till I died. I knew all of that the moment my name was called at the Reaping, I knew what surviving the arena meant.

And yet, I was foolish enough, stupid enough to endanger everyone I care about. If it wasn't for me, they wouldn't be anywhere near Snow's radar.

The feeling of guilt and fear are overwhelming, and I abruptly bolt out of my chair throwing the door open as I rush down the hall. I hear Nora call out to me in surprise and worry as I race past her, but I pay her no mind as I continue through the snow to my destination.

"Haymitch!" I yell, banging loudly on the door, my fist hitting the wood over and over again. "Haymitch, please!"

The door bursts open, and I see Haymitch glaring daggers at me. "For god'ssake, sweetheart, what the hell is wrong with you?!"

And that's when I collapse into his arms, tears and words streaming out of me. He pulls me into the house, sitting me down on one of the clear bar stools, handing me a glass with smudges on it filled with a clear liquid. "Drink, it'll clear your head."

I don't question as I down the substance, wincing at the taste. "What was that?"

"Ginger ale, it helps with hangovers. Alright, so what is going on?"

I tell him everything, the surprise visit, the command to convince the president how in love we are, and the price I will pay- the price we all will pay- if I fail.

"That's all he said? Was that the Capitol cannot be disappointed?"

"Yes, isn't that enough? Were you expecting more?" I ask him, clearly frustrated as it is for his riddles. "How do I do this, Haymitch? If I fail-"

"You can't fail."

"I know that," I puff, glaring at him for being so unhelpful. "Just help me get through the trip, Haymitch. Help me with the Tour…"

My voice echoes off, as I suddenly realize the way he's looking at me, with that sad haunted look in his eyes. And I realize it all, I finally see what I have to do.

"It'll never end will it?" I ask, my whole body sagging at the realization.

He shakes his head, putting a hand on my shoulder. "You're a smart girl. You know that every year when you came to the Capitol for the Games, they'll do an entire rehashing of your little romance. You can't ever have a life with Jude, or anyone else for that matter. Gale is your only option."

Tears are falling from my eyes, but I make no move to wipe them away. "I'm an idiot. I knew, I always knew that. That's why I shut myself off before, when we first got home. I-I knew that anyone I became close to would be used as a weapon. B-but then I did it anyway, and now all of them are in danger just for being a friend to a lonely girl."

"It's not your fault Madge," Haymitch tells me, trying to get me to look him in the eye. "It is not your fault."

"I never should have tried, I never should have tried to normal. I should have locked myself up, recoiled from everyone, to protect them. Like you did."

A sob racks through me, and I cover my face with my hands. "He threatened my family, my friends! Innocent people that are getting dragged into all of this because of me. If I had only kept to myself like I had in the beginning. Before, before you told me…before you…" I lift my head, my eyes boring into his with a kind of shock that leaves me nearly speechless. "You."

He must see the change in my reaction because Haymitch's grip immediately tightens on my shoulder. "Now calm down there, sweetheart, no need to make a fuss."

"Make a fuss!" I cry out, yanking free from his grasp and jumping out of the chair. "You're the one who told me to try again! This is all your fault! I was perfectly fine alone, I had made peace with that I would have to isolate myself forever. But you, oh you, you told me to go out. You told me to pretend!"

"I never told you to start sucking face with a Peacekeepers's son, that's for sure!"

The jab hits below that belt and he knows it, but I don't let it slow me down. "But you didn't say anything for me to stop. You knew this would happen, and that Snow would use it against me! And you gave me no warning, no sound advice, no voice of reason. You're supposed to help me!"

"I did help you! I gave you a few months of freedom from the truth, I allowed you to have a few months blissful ignorance. I tried to give you some peace in between all the chaos."

"You gave Snow a loaded gun!" I scream in his face, feeling more rage and anger and betrayal than ever before. "You-you-you"

"Go ahead," he snaps at me, throwing his arms in the air. "Say it. Call me a jackass, a bastard, a motherfucking asshole. Call me whatever you want, because all it is true. But take it from me, those few moments of blissful ignorance was worth it all. I never had a second of ever thinking that maybe I could go back to the person I was before. They took away too much from me before I left the arena for me to think that was a possibility. But you, you had an opportunity, no matter how short, to be you again. And you can call me every name in the book, but no matter what I would do all over again in a heartbeat."

Maybe it's the how honest his words sound, or how I can tell by his eyes how much he believes what he says. But, then again, it could possibly be the way that I just know that he's seeing her dead, bloody body when he saw the Capitol took too much away from him. Whatever the reason, all the fight is instantly drained from my body, and I throw myself in his arms, hot tears leaking from my eyes once more.

"I had another hallucination", I sob into his reeking shirt. "My first one in over two months. It was the birds. And then right when I was about to pass out, I saw her again. Maysilee. And I don't think it was a flashback. She was just standing there in front of me, holding a bouquet of white roses. And I just knewit was Snow."

I lean away from him, wiping my nose on my sleeve. "D-do you ever see her anymore?"

To my surprise, he nods his head. "Yeah, I see her. Every night, the second I close my eyes, her face is the first thing I see."

I dry my eyes, hoping that by the time my prep team gets here in an half an hour, my eyes won't be as red.

I sigh loudly, looking back at my mentor. "I understand why you did it. And I appreciate it. It doesn't mean I hate you any less right now, but I still appreciate it."

He cracks a smirk at me, "My job isn't for you to like me. Sweetheart. It's to keep youalive. As long as you're breathing, you can hate me as much as you want."

Nora doesn't ask me any questions, doesn't demand to know what happened. She does explain that the moment she opened the front door to my parent's house, my father, who was oddly enough still there, demanded she go straight to my house. He told her to act as if she lived there with me and to stay there until I left for the train.

She brushes a strand of blonde hair off of my face, worry lines etched in her skin. She's smart enough not to bother asking if I'm alright and instead tells me she drew a bath for me. She also tells me that my friends had stopped by after I had ran out, but she told them it probably wasn't a good time for a visit.

"Is there anything you want me to tell any of them?" Nora asks, smiling sweetly at me.

I shake my head. "Just… just tell them thank you. Thank you for everything. Don't worry," I reassure her at her baffled expression. "They'll understand."

My prep team arrives on time, and they all prattle on how much they missed me. Oddly enough the feeling is mutual. They praise me on keeping up with my hygiene. Once again, they only spend minimal time on waxing the little hair I have since the last time I waxed, cleaning up my eyebrows some and adding some kind of oil to my hair that makes it shimmer.

"It'll be so pretty in the snow," Octavia tells me.

They do minimal make up to my face, just a bit to add some color to my skin. Finally Cinna comes into the room, wrapping me in a warm and inviting hug. We've had quite a few conversations on the phone, which began with him checking in on me when I missed a few calls from Effie regarding my talent. Cinna's always been easy to talk to, and I find myself quite happy to see him.

As the prep team finishes up on my face I can't help but study their faces, how they go on and on about how excited they are for the Tour. Do they not believe Gale and I aren't really in love as well? They look enthusiastic enough. Perhaps they are just too close to the situation to be impersonal.

Cinna brings out a lovely outfit that, while beautiful, is bound to keep me warm in the cold. He helps me into a navy blue coat with heavy fur on the inside, fixing a sliver scarf around my neck and giving me black leather gloves before adding a pair of white fluffy earmuffs.

"You are bringing earmuffs back in style," he tells me, smiling cheekily at me.

Earmuffs suck. They are always too tight, and they make my ears itch like crazy. But my nerves are so shot, and I feel like I'm floating that all I can do is nod and smile back.

"Alright!" Effie's shrill voice cuts through the walls, "Attention, everyone! It's time for the first outdoor shot, where the victors greet each other at the beginning of their marvelous trip. So time to go, time to go! It's a big, big day people!"

She kisses me quickly on the cheek, making sure that none of her lipstick rubbed off on me before she ushers me to the front door.

Nora pulls me in for a swift embrace, squeezing me tightly. "Be safe," she whispers in my ear, and I know that the fur must tickle her lips while doing so.

Effie pulls me away, placing me directly in front of the door as she fusses over every inch of me, making sure every hair is in place.

"Wait!" Nora calls out, pushing her way to me. "Here, for luck." She presses the mockingjay pin into my hand, her eyes shimmering with tears.

Oh dear, Nora, I hope I don't fail you. I hope I'm not the reason for your demise.

Cinna takes it gently from the palm of my hand, pinning it to the knot of my scarf, and then brushing my hair off my shoulders to allow it to fall in its natural ringlets down my back.

"Alright, Madge, big smile!" Effie commands before her hard acrylic nailed hand is shoving me out the door into the blistering cold where I know the real trouble begins.

What do you guys think? So, as you all probably already figured out, Snow is not telling her the real reason why this Tour is so important but don't worry my lovelies, the truth has a way of coming out! So are y'all (think that's how you spell it, I'm from California so no one says that here sorry to my Southern readers!) excited about the Gadge reunion? Can you not wait to find out what happens next? Did you absolute hate this chapter and want to yell at me? Either way, please REVIEW! KISSES FROM MADGE/GALE/JUDE/BRISTLE/THOM/DARIUS/EMMA/GRAYSON/RYE/BARLEY

PS, I finally uploaded the first one-shot to what will soon be a plethora of Gadge one-shots and short multi chapter fics, please do me a favor and check it out! You can review or PM me with any request