Hi guys! Sorry this took so long, I know I'm awful but I hope you'll forgive me. Hope you like the chapter, I'm fudging around with the timeline a bit so I hope it's not too confusing! As always, ENJOY :D

Chapter 15

I'm falling. No, I'm drowning. I'm suffocating. Though I know my smile remains on my face, my whole body is shaking.

The moment the crowd settles down, President Snow graciously offers, "What do you think about us throwing them a wedding right here in the Capitol?"

And then there's screeching again that sounds far too similar to screams, and I can feel my body convulsing in fake laughter as I jump up and down in excitement.

There's more yelling and clapping and cheering, and, when that's finally all over, we are whisked off to the President's mansion where the party will be held. I've been told of its beauty before- that the ceiling is made of stars, and the musicians play on clouds. But I see none of it.

There's food- tables upon tables of food- and, while my mind has gone numb, my hands pick up anything they find, shoving it into my mouth. Everything smells delicious and tastes better. I don't notice what things I eat, only that each tastes better than the last.

Nearly an hour later, Gale shakes his head at me as I gulp down a spoon full of some kind of soup. "How can you keep going? I'm stuffed."

"Oh, there's a cure for that!" Octavia exclaims from besides me, dragging us both to a purple table with small, delicate-looking glasses filled with a clear liquid in them. Flavius is already positioned by the table, and his face lights up at the sight of us.

"I was wondering when you two would need a refresher! Here you go, take this." He hands me one of the tiny glasses, and I raise it instantly to my lips when both he and Octavia shriek at me.

"What?" I ask in alarm, immediately bringing the glass away from me.

"You'll make a mess!" Octavia reprimands me. "You have to go drink it there," she gestures to the back of the hall where the bathrooms are. "Then go back for more!"

I stare at the flamboyant women, understanding dawning on me, and I flinch at the realization of what they are suggesting. I had forgotten about their disturbing custom. I place the back on the table, trying in vain to mask my disgust. "Come on, let's dance Gale."

But he won't budge, and I can see in the way his jaw is locked and his body tense that he has figured out what purpose the clear liquid serves as well.

"That makes you sick? You purposely make yourselves throw up to have more food?"

Flavius shrugs taking a glass for himself and handing a glass to Octavia. "Well, how else could you try everything?"

Gale's grip on my hand tightens painfully so, and I dig my nails into his forearm, forcing him to look down at me. I give a tiny shake of my head, my eyes pleading with him. Not here. Not now.

"I love this song," I lie, pulling Gale roughly, "Dance with me." It's not a request and he knows it, but still, I had to drag him away from my prep team members.

His hands are still fists as we begin to sway to the music, muttering to himself as he glares at the table. I step hard on his foot, and he hisses loudly, looking angrily down at me. "Enough. You can't start punching people's faces in right now, Gale. Save your anger for home."

At least Octavia's suggestion woke me from the numbness.

I can feel him loosen his fists, forcing his scowl to lessen. "Do you know what they were insinuating, Madge?" he hisses at me, a smile on his face but his eyes still burning.

"Yes. I know, Gale, I know there are people dying in the Districts without a scrap to their name, and here they have enough food to choke themselves on and they make themselves sick to continue the fun. I know how awful it is. But you can't do that, you can't let your mask fall like that again."

"Well, excuse me if I couldn't control myself for one moment. Some of us grew up without food in our stomachs. Some of us actually know real hunger, real pain, real loss."

It's been months since he brought up my upbringing. Since he treated me as the lucky mayor's daughter, and I can feel fire seeping into my voice as I tell him, "You and I both know that I know real pain and real loss."

His eyes widen, the fire leaving them as his arms grow soft around me, his grip looser on my waist. "Madge, I didn't mean-"

"Ah, there is the lovely couple!"

I recoil at the loud Capitol accent, preparing myself for a round of smiling and posing for pictures as I turn to greet the intruder.

He's a large man with a larger smile, standing next to Portia. She gives Gale a look that is part-sympathetic and part-warning before introducing the man as Plutarch Heavensbee, the new head Gamemaker.

"I was unaware the old Gamemaker left," I say as I shake his hand. Head Gamemakers don't up and retire after years of getting into that position.

Plutarch's grin only grows at my statement. "Yes well, there was a change in management." He turns his attention to Gale, "Mind if I steal your lovely bride-to-be away?"

Gale's hold on me tightens, but he smiles graciously anyway, "As long as she comes back to me."

His eyes stay fixed on mine as he offers Portia a dance, the stylist patting him on the shoulder as she leads him away.

I'm hardly alright with my prep team touching me, much less a Gamemaker who dreams of new ways to torture children. Still, I place my hand on his shoulder, and I do not flinch when he places his hand on my waist.

We dance side to side in an almost waltz, making small talk of the party, the music, the food. Eventually, as does most conversations with people from the Capitol, he brings up the Games.

"What an exciting year to be a mentor. The Quarter Quell, it will prove to be like nothing you have ever seen."

Blood. Death. Mutts. I think I've seen more than I've ever wanted to see.

"I bet. And what an exciting year to be Head Gamemaker. Are you planning the Quell already?"

"Oh yes. They've been in the planning stage for years actually. The concept was completed long before I joined the project. Now it's all about the strategy of it. Believe it or not, I've got a meeting tonight."

He steps away from me, pulling out a gold pocket watch from his powder blue vest. He flips a button on the side, and the lip pops open, revealing the time. "I'm afraid I'll have to cut our dance short, Miss Undersee." He turns the watch face over to show me the time. "It starts at midnight."

"My, that is quite late for…" but I cannot finish my thought because Plutarch has ran his thumb across the glass face, an image appearing, glowing and sparkling before it vanishes like a trick of the light. My pin. My mockingjay.

"That's…that's…"

"Oh, beautiful isn't it?" He says, snapping the watch closed. "It's one of a kind. If anyone asks, say I've gone home. The meetings are meant to be kept a secret."

"Yes, of course." I say, my head still spinning, and my hands shaking from the image of my aunt's pin etched onto a Gamemaker's watch.

He shakes my hand warmly before giving me a small bow, a custom here in the Capitol. I curtsy back, and he wishes me a goodnight before disappearing into the crowd.

I wander around the room, searching for Gale and thanking and smiling at everyone who wishes to speak to me- which is nearly everyone. And then I begin to notice something even more disturbing than Plutarch's watch. My pin is everywhere. On belts, necklaces, earrings, bracelets- some even have it tattooed on their bodies.

They all want to show me their rendition of it, they all want me to praise them for copying something near to my heart. The pin my family made years ago. The pin of the creature that exceeded past the Capitol's expectations, that lived when it wasn't meant to. A symbol I've always found hope and comfort in, now tarnished by the Capitol. Like everything else in my life.

I find Gale still dancing with Portia.

"It's almost time to leave, " she tells me, gesturing across the room at her partner in crime. "I think I'll have to drag Cinna away from that chocolate fountain. Will you make sure he doesn't try to bite me?"

There's no need for that, though, because soon Effie is herding us all together, going around the room to bid farewell to all the important people before she pushes us towards the door.

My prep team, as well as Gale's, can't stop chattering on and on during the car ride to the train. Did you see this person? Oh, can you believe he showed up with that person? Yes, especially because this person showed up to that party with what's-her-face, but now he's parading around with that person? Oh poor what's-her-face.

We pile onto the train, and my whole body sags. "I'm going to bed," I announce, sulking back to my room.

It's almost over. I'm almost home.

But I don't feel the relief that I thought I would, only terror at what awaits my family and loved ones.

Absentmindedly, I begin to twist the ring that now sits atop my left ring finger. I had hardly noticed when Gale slid it on my hand, but now it feels as heavy as a boulder. We don't have engagement rings in District 12, only simple wedding bands given out by the Justice Building. If you can afford it, you might buy something from the jeweler.

I don't know where Gale got the ring from. It's dainty, just a small gold band with a sapphire on it. Pretty, but certainly not from Twelve.

I change into my pajamas, taking off my tight, shiny dress, releasing my hair from its up do. The only thing I leave on is the ring. I'm sure Gale will want it back, and the last thing I need is to lose it.

I sink into my bed, begging my mind to let me sleep. But my pleas go unanswered, and the silence drives me insane. I force myself to concentrate on the lull of the train.

That doesn't work either, and I groan loudly, throwing the covers off as I pad down to the back car of the train, to the star room.

Except there's someone already in there.

"I'll go," Gale tells me once he sees me stop in my tracks.

I wrap my hands around my middle, keeping my gaze up at the night sky. "Couldn't sleep?"

"There was a nightmare. It was a short one, but I can't close my eyes again."

I nod my head, and I begin to twirl the ring around my finger once more. I can feel his eyes following the motion, and I force the question out before my courage fails me. "Where'd you get the ring?"

"Portia." He tells me. "I knew that I'd be expected in the Capitol. She has a bunch of them in a drawer- you've seen her wear them. She said I could pick any one. I thought you might like that one the best. It's simple, and it's your eye color."

"It's beautiful," I tell him, pressing down hard on my palm to keep the tears away. "I'll be sure to give it back to her tomorrow."

"Right."

We're both stay silent for a moment, and I bite my lip as I struggle not to look at him. "You should get to bed. It'll be a long day tomorrow."

I hear him get up from the bench, moving towards where I stand in the doorframe. "Finally going home." He pauses when he reaches me, and I avert my gaze to the ground as he stops next to me, grabbing one of my hands lightly in his. "Why is it whenever we're on our way back home, I always find a way to make you cry?"

I laugh, a teary-eyed, little laugh that sounds much more like sobbing than real joy. "I'm fine, Gale. It's just…been a lot."

"I know." He leans down, pressing his warm lips softly against my forehead. "I'm making a resolution. I will do everything in my power for you to never cry again."

I look up at him, and I see him gazing down at me, a tiny smile on his face, his eyes warm and sad and soft. And it reminds me of how he looked at me in the cave, how he smiled at me even when there was no reason to smile. Of the boy in the cave I fell hopelessly in love with. The boy I had convinced myself wasn't real.

I lean my head into him, sighing as he wraps his arms around me. I pull away first, taking a step back and holding out my hand to him. "Come on, let's go to bed."

He takes my hand, his fingers intertwining with mine as we walk down the hall.

The final party of the Tour is at the Mayor's house of the winning District. The moment I step inside my childhood home, I feel myself instantly relax, my smile becoming real. Home. I'm home.

Our families aren't meant to see us until the party, but they couldn't very well kick my family out so, before I can step all inside the door, I'm in my father's arms.

He picks me clear off the ground, and it takes all I have not to start pouring out everything. My worry, my confusion, my fears that we are all doomed. But before I can, he puts me down, kissing my hair. "I'm so glad you're home."

"Me too, "I tell him, hugging him once more.

He looks behind me to see Gale standing awkwardly in the doorway, along with everyone else. My father and Gale have never officially met, and they shake hands, my father's eyes locked on his.

Be nice, Daddy, I will him, tugging Gale inside.

My spirits drop once I notice the absence of my mother. My father shakes his head gently as he meets my gaze, and I sigh, hoping that she'll feel better enough to make it to the party.

Nora greets everyone in her shy, quiet way but another person's presence takes me by surprise.

"Darius!"

He grins at me, grabbing me in a bear hug before lifting me off the floor and twirling me around. I laugh hysterically, smacking him to put me down.

He complies, placing me back on the floor.

"What are you doing here?"

"Doing security for the party, of course. Guess I got here a little early," he says, trying his best to look sheepish and failing miserably.

I snort at him, "You liar."

"Madge!" Effie squeals. "Manners! I'm ever so sorry. Peacekeeper Darius, was it?"

"Oh, I am quite accustomed to Miss Undersee's horrendous manners, ma'am. I have personally seen her eat cake without a fork."

I roll my eyes at Darius' quip, Effie already droning on about table manner. Darius' grin widens and he throws his arm over my shoulders, squeezing me tight.

"Alright," Cinna announces, "time to get ready. We will see all of you at the party."

I deflate, not ready to be dragged away so soon, but I quickly embrace Nora and my father again. Darius grabs me as I walk past to squeeze me.

"Darius!" I giggle, pushing him away, "I can't breathe!"

He laughs at me, placing me down and giving me a sloppy kiss on my hand. "Till later, my darling."

I laugh at him, shaking my head as I trail my prep team up the stairs. I look back and see Gale scowling at Darius, his arms crossed over his chest.

"Good to see you too, Hawthorne ole pal," Darius tells him playfully, winking at the steaming Seam boy.

Gale scoffs, "Shove it, Darius."

"Hey," I call down to him, "be nice. He's my friend."

Darius blows a kiss up to me, and Gale quickly scales the stairs mumbling under his breath as Darius's laughs travel up to me.

Three hours later, I'm done. My legs are waxed, and my hair is curled and tugged into an elaborate, braided half-up do. My dress is silver, but, when I twist in just the right way, it catches the light and transforms to a sparkling gold.

"A chandelier," Cinna tells me when I ask about it, "I was looking at one a while ago, and it struck me. I think it fits nicely with the Girl on Fire."

"I agree."

Cinna tucks my chain under the dress, fastening my pin on my dress as always. I twist the ring that still sits on my finger, my eyes on the floor. "Cinna, could you bring in Portia for a minute?"

"Sure," he says, raising an eyebrow at my request. "She's already done with Gale. I'll get her now."

I sink down into my old bed, the fluffy pink comforter and curtains looking so girlish and childish now.

A few moments later, there's a soft knock on the door, and Portia enters, a smile on her face. "Cinna said you wanted to see me."

I nod, looking over at the woman. I've never given Portia much thought, although Gale has spoken kindly of her.

Like Cinna, she has minimal alterations. She likes to wear bright dresses like Effie, although they are usually much more understated. She always wears dark nail polish, and her straight ebony hair is always kept down and pinned to the sides.

I take the ring off my finger, sticking it out towards her. "Thank you for the ring. Gale told me it was yours."

"It was. Lucky we have the same size, no?" Her expression sobers, and she curls my hand around the ring. "Keep it. We'll be back soon for a wedding shoot, no doubt. You'll need it then."

She pauses for a moment, as if thinking out her words before she says, "You know, I do think he cares for you. I don't know in what way- in fact, I doubt if he knows himself. And it may not be in the way you want, but he does care for you. I know you are hurting, dear, but I assure you he is not indifferent to you. You should hear how he speaks of you. Don't give up on him just yet."

She smiles at me, patting me on the cheek and leaves me to process all that she said.He speaks of me? He cares about me?

The party flies by, mostly because it is filled people I don't know or care about. My mother never makes an appearance, and Nora tells me it's because they had to put her down with morphling early this morning- all the noise from the preparations was hurting her too much. She probably won't wake up until tomorrow.

Gale's family comes too, of course, and I dance twice with Rory. But, as more guests filter in, the more anxious I become.

Peeta arrives first, and he nearly runs over Venia to get to me. He smiles at me, but I can see in his eyes the questions he wishes to ask. I try to give him a genuine smile, but I know he doesn't buy it. I sure wouldn't.

Everyone makes it- the rest of the Mellarks, Emma and Greyson, Thom and Bristel. Jude. I don't dare embrace him, but I do smile, giving him a little wave that he returns. His eyes follow me all night.

And the Everdeens. Of course they make it, Katniss in tow. No matter how exquisite Cinna makes me, I always pale in comparison to her. And I can't help but notice how Gale drops my hand the moment she walks in.

The dinner is lovely and loud, and the rally in the morning for the Harvest Festival is filled with laughter and smiles.

After the Victory Rally in the square, where everyone leaves with full bellies, Haymitch, Gale, and I see everyone off at the station. I can't help but feel relief as I watch the train move out of sight. No more cameras.

I searched for Jude at the rally, but his mother didn't know where was. Now I wring my hands out as I stand in front of their family shop, wondering if he's in there, wondering if he wants to see me.

I'm still standing outside when his little sister comes up to the shop, her arms full of fabric that must have just came in on the train. "Madge? What are you doing here?"

"Oh," I say, my cheeks beginning to warm up. "I'm just... I was looking for your brother."

The young girl eyes me for a moment, and I wring my hands together, unable to meet her gaze. She saw the Tour, she knows what I want to talk to him about. Finally, she straightens up, shifting the garments into one hand so she can open the door to the shop.

"He's where the flowers grow," she tells me, closing the door behind her.

The meadow is covered in a thick layer of snow, but, still he sits in the middle of it, snow falling on his thick brown coat.

I sit down next to him, putting my hands inside my fur lined pockets. "I can explain."

He shakes his head, breathing deeply. "You don't have to. I told you to do whatever it took."

"Snow threatened your life," I tell him, feeling obligated to make him understand all the actors in the play. "Not just yours, but Peeta's and Bristel'sl and everyone's."

"I figured as much. From how frightened you looked that day." He pauses, his eyes on the dark sky. He sighs loudly, looking over at me with his beautifully tragic green eyes. "You love him. You still love him."

"Jude….I…you told me to do what I took. I told you there would be kissin-"

"It wasn't the kissing," he interjects, his voice quite yet sure. "It was your eyes. In the beginning they were dull, lifeless. Like a doll's. But then…every time you glanced at him they sparkled, every time you kissed him your face light up."

He stops himself again and I have to force the tears to stay in my eyes as his kind face contorts in pain at the words he's saying. "But that wasn't really noticeable, I could convince myself you were just a great actress." He looks down at the snow covered ground, taking another calmly breathy. "But then he proposed. And I saw it in your face. The pain. And it wasn't pain that were being forced into marriage, it was pain that he didn't mean it. That it wasn't real. And I knew. You love him."

I want to deny it, to tell him he's mistaken. But I can't, and I don't. "I'm sorry."

He eyes shoot back up to me, and I can see how those words confirm everything he had hoped wasn't true. He nods, looking up at the sky before back at me again. "Don't be. I always knew I guess. That there'd always be a part of you that loved him. I guess I just was hoping that maybe I made you forget."

"You did," I quickly say, "For a while, you did. You fixed me."

He smiles, the boyish grin that's always plastered on his face now smaller yet still as bright. "You were never broken. I really hope he opened his eyes and saw what's in front of him. I think maybe he already has."

"No, he hasn't." Gale may have others fooled, but I know the truth. He'll always love another. "It wasn't real for him. It never was."

"I don't know about that, Madge. You weren't the only one sneaking glances."

Talking about Gale's hypothetical feelings about me with Jude is one of the last things on my list of things I'd like to talk about with Jude. Still, I'm glad that he can smile at me, that he's not too angry. "Do you hate me?"

He snorts, throwing his arm around my shoulder to bring me closer to him. "No. I could never hate you. We can still be friends- I still want to be your friend. I still care about you."

"Me too," I say to his chest, laying my head against his jacket.

"You know, I actually want to thank you." I lean away from him, my eyebrows furrowed in confusion. He shrugs his shoulders, brushing some fly away hairs from my face. "Ever since Roxanne, I haven't let myself feel anything for anyone like that. You... you made me remember how it feels to care about someone. And you've shown me how nice it is for someone to care about me."

"I did care about you. I still do. Just…"

"Not in that way." He finishes for me. "I know." His usual dimpled smile is back as he ruffles my perfectly styled hair. "And don't worry, I'm not heartbroken. You weren't the love of my life, and I'm not gonna sob in my room and paint pictures of you or listen to blues music.

"I'm glad," I tell him, smiling at him. "Speaking of pictures, did you ever get your drawings back?"

"Oh yeah, Thom dropped them off yesterday. Did you like them? I hope it wasn't too weird seeing the one I drew of you in there."

"No, no, it wasn't weird. I loved it. I loved all of them. They were all beautiful. Thank you." I don't mention how Gale flipped out when he realized they were his. He probably already suspects that Gale reacted that way already.

"You're welcome. Well, I better be heading back. I just needed some air." He stands up, wiping the snow from his hair.

"I understand." I tell him as he helps me to my feet. "We're still friends, right? We can still hang out and talk?"

He nods his head, grinning down at me as if nothing happened at all. "Of course. We'll always be friends. I mean, unless you turn into a raging bitch. And maybe still, even then."

I laugh, pushing him playfully in the arm. We embrace, and I feel relief that I found no resentment in his eyes when we part, even though I know that if it were me, there definitely would be. Jude is far too good a person for his own good.

It's been two weeks since we've gotten back. I haven't been going to lunch at the school as much lately. Even though Jude seemed fine, I think if I was in his shoes I'd want some space for a little while. Though that's not the only reason why I stay away.

All of them have been looking at me with worry lately. They know, or, at least, have their suspicions on who visited me the day of the Tour. They saw the fear in my eyes. They know I'm in danger, and I don't want them to be too. Although I think it might be too late for that.

I wish more than anything to talk to someone about my confusion.

My father has been extremely busy lately; I've hardly seen him at all since I've been home.

My mother's headaches are worse than they've been in years according to Nora; she's had to be sedated every day this week.

Then there's Peeta, who could only speculate on what might be happening. And the last thing I want is to drag him in this any further.

There's Haymitch, who would just tell me to mind my own and lay low.

And Gale, who seems to have gone back into the old way of ignoring me as much as possible.

So that leaves me on my own to try to find some answers. What are Snow's real motives for dragging out the star-crossed lovers' story? If the act wasn't for the Capitol, then who was it for?

I spend most of my nights lying awake thinking about it, going around in circles until I want to scream.

Today's Sunday, and I decide to give myself a break from wracking my brain to go see if my mother is at all better today. I doubt it, but if she isn't, at least, I could still stay with her for a while.

Nora's shake of the head when she opens the door is all I need to tell me that my mother is still out cold, but she explains anyways. "She had an episode late last night. Scared your poor father out of his wits. I haven't seen him so upset in quite a number of years."

"Was she screaming again?" I ask her, taking off my coat and shoes as I step into the house.

"Yes. It was very bad. I'm glad you weren't here to see it."

I can't help but agree. "Do you think she'll wake at all today?"

"I doubt it. We've been having to give her heavier doses."

Which simply translates into she's getting worse. She's dying faster.

"I'm going to go see her."

Nora stops me, tugging on my sleeve. "I don't think that's a good idea, Madge. She looks very frail- it'll only upset you. And you look exhausted. Why don't you go take a nap in your old bed, and I'll fix us some breakfast. Does that sound good?"

It's not a nap I need, but, still, I allow Nora to lead to the staircase, kissing my cheek before she disappears into the kitchen. I sigh as I round the corner to second floor where my old room lies. My eyesare on the floor instead of watching where I'm going when my toe slams into something hard.

A string of hushed profanities stream out of my mouth as I hop up and down on my good foot, tears welling in my eyes at the sudden and acute pain.

"Son of a monkey's aunt," I mutter under my breath, looking up to find my father's study door ajar.

"How hard is it to close the freaking flagging door," I groan, moving to slam it shut when I hear a beeping noise coming from inside.

I've been inside my father's study before, but, now, for some reason, I feel like I'm trespassing as I step inside the room.

The television is on as usual. But what's unusual is the scene on it. The words "UPDATE ON DISTRICT EIGHT" are flashing on the bottom of the screen, and there's a woman I don't recognize sitting in a padded chair in front of a green screen. Because she has already started talking when I walked in, I missed what the first half of her speech was, but I do manage to hear the last of it.

"Production has ceased completely. More forces are being sent into the District and a Level 5 alert has been called."

Then it cuts away to the main square of a District. District Eight. A place I was waving at and giving speeches less than a month ago. But I hardly recognize it at all.

There's ash all around, fire, signs of recently put out fires, and buildings crumbling or already completely destroyed. There's a group of people, most with their faces hidden behind rags and homemade masks.

My eyes scan over the images, but it suddenly becomes too slow to comprehend what I'm being shown. A mob, I come up with, never having seen one with my own eyes.It's a mob.

There are Peacekeepers, pushing the people back. Bullets are shot randomly into the crowd. People fall. Someone throws a glass bottle with a rag hanging out of it at the group of Peacekeepers, and the bottle bursts into flames upon impact.

Finally, just as the screen cuts to black before displaying shots of a commercial claiming that you can get hair just like Madge Undersee with these simple five steps, my mind is able to come up with a single word.

Uprising.

That was an uprising.

Okay so I know I ended the chapter at the same spot as Catching Fire but it's a tad different because D8 has already progressed much more. So as I was saying before, I'm going to be jumping around quite a bit with the timeline now, which I think is fine because who's to say when things happen in this universe right? Sorry this chapter took forever and wasn't that long but at least I'm done with it now yay! So please review! Thank you to everyone who emailed me asking me about this and left me reviews, I promise I'm wont abandon this story! That's it for now, KISSES from Madge/Gale/Jude

P.S. Just keep in mind that Katniss found out about Eights uprising right after she got home and Madge and Gale have already been home for two weeks so things are going to be happening rather fast paced for awhile, bear with me.