She ignored her prep team as they fussed over her and reapplied her lipstick while simultaneously making disparaging comments about the muffin crumbs around her mouth and the similar crumbs over her clothes, although she couldn't help but notice Cato wasn't receiving nearly the same treatment. Her eyes were mostly transfixed on the polished glass ceiling above them that refracted the light into fragmented rainbow-coloured beams on the floor and around their feet. Just watching it was mesmerising.
She'd quickly learned how to put herself into autopilot whenever she was being moved around for any promotional purposes, automatically moving her head whenever her prep team required it and lifting her arms to her sides for Anya or Marc to make adjustments to her clothes.
Tiffany moved in front of them and handed both Nova and Cato a cue card. "Luciana has written these for you. Effie had some input too," she explained. "Decide on the line distribution between yourselves, make any minor edits you please, and . . ."
She trailed off. While a small group of Peacekeepers circled around them, keeping them herded together like sheep as they were escorted out of the station, Tiffany had taken a single step to the side. Now there was a rifle being pointed at her back.
Her jaw stiffened. "I'll give you 5 seconds to move that gun away from me, or you'll soon find it shoved so far up your–"
Nova was genuinely enthusiastic, hoping she'd finally get to hear her district escort let her tongue slip and curse for even just a split second, but the Peacekeeper relented and lowered his gun before it could come to that. Tiffany muttered something about manners and accelerated forward to catch up with Luciana.
They were swiftly transported to the District 1 Justice Building. She could already hear the crowds starting to gather outside, the cacophony of voices tucked away behind a massive set of doors.
She hadn't let go of Cato's hand for even a second since leaving the station. She had never been a hand-holding person, and neither had he, but without his support she feared her legs would simply slip from beneath her. The closer they got to the front of the building, the firmer her grip became.
This district was one of the better-treated ones. Nova had heard rumours about District 1, but now seeing for herself she could confirm them. The Justice Building didn't smell of rot or decay. The wallpaper wasn't peeling or faded, not even a stain other than a small blood splatter in a corner, although that wasn't an abnormal sight anywhere.
But the well-maintained building did nothing to keep out the cold. Most districts had snow this time of year, but nothing could have prepared her for this. The conditions outside were comparable to a blizzard. Long sharp icicles protruded from the roofs of the buildings, as if to threaten away anyone that attempted to step inside and seek shelter from the elements.
Cato and Nova walked out hand in hand the moment the mayor had finished his introductions. Beyond the steps, an event shelter had been constructed, just a simple thick plastic tarp extended over the top of the square to shield the crowd from the wind and snow. She grudgingly noted that it was more than her district would ever do.
There was applause, steadily increasing until it almost sounded convincing. She could barely discern the expressions on people's faces, but even through the way they clapped she could get a sense of their apathy, their complete disinterest. Not a negative reaction, but a far cry from a positive one.
Two raised platforms displayed images of Marvel and Glimmer respectively. Marvel's family consisted of an older man she could only presume to be his father, and two younger brothers with sickening resemblance to him. Glimmer simply had a mother and a father, no extended relatives further than that. Those parents had lost their only child.
Some words were spoken, and then two small boys, no older than 5, approached them and gave them each a voluminous bouquet of flowers. Cato was friendly as instructed — all smiles and kind comments — but Nova had yet to withdraw her gaze from the families elevated in front of them. It took Cato sharply nudging her with his elbow for her to awaken fully. Emotions were an optional luxury for later.
The square fell silent. Cato decided to read first, understandable judging by the blankness on Nova's face.
"We are united, as Panem is united." Cato's voice echoed through hefty loudspeakers. "Our love has opened our eyes to the greatness of the country. Love illuminates the truth, just as it can obscure it."
Nova swallowed thickly and looked down at her card. It was difficult to prevent her gaze from becoming fixed on the words in front of her.
"We have acted blindly, influenced by the delirium of our passion," she droned, "but thanks to our everlasting love we now see the perfection of our ultimate reality. We exult in the incredible and beautifully overwhelming size of our love . . ."
The people below them, their eyes were so heavily lacking in emotion. She cleared her throat and inhaled deeply.
"We are so happy and fortunate to be able to share our love with you," Nova said.
She felt Cato's eyes settle on her for a moment. "Hence it is an honour and a privilege to be here today with the friends and loved ones of your fallen tributes," he said, somehow with so much more conviction than herself. "They were brave and courageous, bringing honour and pride to this district, and to Panem. It is together, through the bonds we share and the sacrifices we make, that we can fulfil our true purpose: bringing power and glory to the Capitol."
She read her final line in her head several times before she could bring herself to verbalise it.
"Panem today. Panem tomorrow. Panem forever."
Some applause only followed after a few seconds of silence, and even then it was dull, completely unmoved. She knew, if it were herself in their position, she wouldn't be applauding at all. How could they applaud two murderous kids for killing two of their own and then reading a Capitol-glorifying script to them like the soulless robots they were?
Cato stepped forward to make some personal notes, although due to her unrelenting grip on his hand he was forced to hold his arm at an awkward angle so that it would appear natural to the audience. He lowered his cue card and addressed the crowd.
"Marvel and Glimmer were exceptional tributes. They weren't just skilled, experienced allies. They were our friends." He momentarily paused. His gaze flitted between the images of his deceased allies, images he, like herself, hadn't seen in a long time. "The arena is bleak, but being with them made the experience more bearable tenfold. Nova and I will never forget the fond memories we share with them. From the bottom of our hearts, thank you."
The attention moved to her before any reaction could be given. They wanted her to speak too before gracing them with any further applause. Her nails sank deep into the back of Cato's hand. She braced herself against the microphone stand, her hands trembling in front of her eyes.
"Although I never truly got along with Glimmer, there's no denying she is one of the strongest people either of us could ever meet. Even with a forest burning around us, she was just as fierce. She showed no fear. I have so much respect for her for that."
Nova couldn't bring herself to look again at any of the families, to see what they were truly thinking in response to her words. If the people wanted her to speak, they'd have to let her do so in her own way.
"Marvel was . . . Marvel," she said. "He had so much spirit. It was infectious. I always thought he should consider a career in comedy if he won."
She stared at the microphone stand. Even looking at the crowd now filled her with shame. She was never truly a Career tribute. She had no right standing up and speaking as if her relationship with them had ever matched Cato's.
"I never formed the connection with your children that Cato did," she confessed. "We were so different. But they could've killed me, and they didn't. They didn't just show Cato friendship, they showed me friendship too, even when it wasn't deserved. I'll never truly be able to express my gratitude for that."
Applause built up again into something more substantial, but it filled her ears with nothing but white noise. Nova and Cato exchanged a look, although she couldn't tell the emotion behind it.
He looked down at their joined hands and lifted them above their heads. The volume of the crowd increased, but so did the deafening ringing in her ears.
She'd violently retched into a toilet. That was why she was carefully cleaning up her mouth from the vomit splatters that decorated her chin. Her palms felt clammy, and her hair clung to the sheen of sweat that coated the back of her neck. The fluorescent lights above her occasionally flickered and dimmed in irregular intervals, as did many of the electrical appliances in the district.
She was very quick to recognise Cato's hand. In his palm sat a little purple nausea pill, and in his other hand a clear plastic water bottle that was being offered to her, and understandably so. Tap water was never drinkable unless in the Capitol.
The pill was exactly the same as the ones she'd taken in the arena. She swallowed it with no hesitation. The memory couldn't hurt her if it was hidden away in her stomach, safely out of sight.
Nova tensely gripped the basin while she waited for her insides to settle. Cato didn't say a word. She didn't believe either of them would ever be capable of speech again after that. She couldn't bring herself to look at him either. All she'd be able to see was the man from the arena, the man who had plotted with the tributes from this district to eventually kill her.
While she steadied herself, in the corner of her eye she caught him injecting the inside of his elbow with some morphling using a frighteningly large syringe. It was only a small dosage, carefully measured out of a glass vial, but the effect would be noticeable nonetheless.
"We started in the deep end," he said. "It'll get easier from here."
Although she couldn't deny the first half of his comment, she didn't agree with the second.
"Why would it get easier?" she retorted. "For you maybe, but . . ." District 4 was next, and then Finch's district . . . "Doesn't it bother you? Victoriously giving speeches and bragging about our win to families of kids we killed?"
Nova didn't like that he was looking at her as though she was being unreasonable, as if she was the crazy one. He was nonplussed. No one should be nonplussed about the games.
"I'd hardly call it a win," he replied with a sardonic scoff. "I'd call it survival."
Cato held his arm out for her. They couldn't stay long. Any minute now, someone would come to find them and drag them away to be prepared for a formal banquet with some District 1 officials and higher-ups. And then they'd be on the train, ready to do this all again tomorrow.
His hand on her waist braced her as she wobbled along beside him. His empty hand found hers and gave it a gentle squeeze.
Nova was happy to be back on the train. It was safe, quiet, secluded, unlike anywhere else she would be on her tour. Here she couldn't be disturbed. She was free to be unapologetically and organically–
She paused her cassette tape and looked up. "Yes?"
"You're taking up the whole couch." Cato gestured to the piece of dining cart furniture she'd taken to sprawling herself across.
She sighed and propped herself upright against her elbow. Once he'd sat himself in the small vacated space she'd left him, she lowered her head until it came to rest in his lap. She pressed a button on the side of her slightly-broken mostly-tempramental portable cassette player. It had been a gift from Conrad for her birthday a few weeks ago, and with the sheer length of this trip she was being subjected to, it was a godsend really.
The sound of a voice, although muffled, reached her ears through her headphones. She slid them off, uncaring of her shortness of patience. "What?"
"I was asking what you're doing," Cato said. He barely acknowledged her face directly below him and her tangled beige hair slayed across his legs.
"I'm listening to The Smiths," she responded.
He raised an undeniably mocking eyebrow. "The who?"
"No, The Smiths." She took off her headphones. "Here."
He didn't really object as the device was placed over his ears. She restarted the album, watching a variety of confused emotions cross his face. Admittedly, older music that existed on cassettes was nothing like the music nowadays, but that was obviously a given. Only a tiny handful of people she knew at home could even tolerate the sound of it, all of those noisy beats and vocals. But it distracted her from the otherwise painful silence of her home life, and for that she was grateful.
Cato frowned deeply. "What is this?"
"It's a song about the shittiness of life, I think," she replied. "Weirdly applicable to us."
Another minute passed, but Cato hadn't finished listening yet. Nova wasn't sure whether he would actually like to listen to the kind of things she did, or if maybe he was simply continuing to listen out of morbid fascination. If this strange hobby wasn't a sign of severe mental illness, she didn't know what was.
"That was one of the weirdest things I've ever listened to," was the first thing he said once the song had finished, proceeding onto the next track.
"It's relatable though, right?" She placed the device down beside her. "Especially the chorus."
"Why did he sound Capitol?" he asked.
Nova shrugged loosely. "Probably because the Capitol are mostly descendants of English immigrants a few centuries ago, and he's English." She countered the blank stare she received with one of her own. "Don't they teach you history in District 2?"
He laughed under his breath in a way that made her feel unjustifiably small. "Oh," he said in realisation, "you were that kid."
"What kid?" she asked bemusedly.
"The history nerd," Cato answered. This was one of those increasingly rare but still nonetheless common moments of rudeness and cruelty from him. He was nice until he remembered he had the ability to not be. "The one who always has some random fact to offer. There was a kid like that at my academy. I nearly got expelled for throwing a paper aeroplane at him and landing it in his ear. "
Nova felt terrible for laughing. "So you were that kid instead," she argued. "The one slacking off at the back of class, getting wasted on a nightly basis, smoking black market drugs behind the trash cans during recess, flicking gum at people's hair which forces them to have it cut because it won't come out even with boiling water."
He nodded contemplatively. "All except the last one."
Despite her simply listing burn-out kid stereotypes, it was no surprise to her that Cato fit them all. Even Career tributes and Peacekeeper trainees were still the same fuckwit amoral teenagers at heart.
"Huh?" Nova moved her headphones off once again.
"Why are you out here if you want to be left alone so badly?" he challenged her. "Just go back to your room."
Nova didn't have a good answer to that. She really didn't have a good answer to that.
"I want to be left alone," she explained dumbly. "I don't want to be alone."
Her response was met with a nod. It would sound vague to virtually anyone, but she understood what she meant, and she could only assume that Cato did too, because he made no further sarcastic comments or complaints while she lay in silence and stared at the ceiling.
Cato's hand settled around her shoulders. She could feel his fingers winding strands of her hair into little loops. The music continued to softly thud through her headphones, but by this point she was scarcely paying attention.
Nova hadn't gone long without hearing about the absolute disaster that was Katniss and Peeta's District 11 visit. No one had explicitly told her what had happened, nor Cato, but with the amount of gossip in the air about the chaotic event it was easy to get a good idea of just how badly they'd fucked up. She wondered how the pair of District 12 victors were taking things, whether Snow was pounding down their door too. In a weird way, she hoped so. At least it wouldn't just be her locked away in this ship to wreck alone.
District 4 the next day wasn't so bad. Of course, she was only thinking for herself. Since those kills had been Cato and Clove, it was understandable that she wasn't the angry mob's main target, but Cato on the other hand was practically heckled off stage. Some very creative profanities were hurled at him after he'd slaughtered that 12 year old boy in the bloodbath, Chase's only friend Max. It was deserved, she knew that, but nonetheless difficult to listen to these people's rage and grief while unable to do anything about it.
"Typical District 4," Tiffany had said once they'd safely made it inside again. Nova could still hear the furious roars of the crowd unrelenting behind her. "Don't take it personally."
The banquet was almost entirely seafood. Freshly-caught fish of all varieties had been cooked and presented to them and the other district officials that were in attendance. The people here were undeniably less hungry. They had more soft fat in their cheeks, on their arms, legs, and torsos. This wasn't a starving district. Even District 1 hadn't been as healthy as this.
But the next day was District 5. The weather was bleak — not snowy like 1, or blindingly windy like 4, but wet and heavy with torrential rainfall that seemed to hit the ground in random bursts. The footpaths even around the Justice Building were severely damaged, so the waterlogged earth beneath the shattered concrete was soft and squelchy beneath their feet. Within a few steps, the soles of their boots were covered in a layer of grimy mud.
There was no cover to shelter the people from the rain. Some people in suits closer to the front of the Justice Building carried umbrellas, but most of the crowd simply wore waterproof coats with hoods and hats over their heads. There was silence as they stepped out after the mayor's words. Most eyes were on her.
Which would make sense, since she was the one who killed . . .
She looked up at the images of the tributes. There was the boy she purposefully forgot the name of. The sight of him haunted her on almost an hourly basis, so she almost didn't recognise him without any devastating flesh wounds and skin hanging off his face in disfigured tatters.
She tore her gaze away and looked at Finch. The pre-games image highlighted just how different she'd looked while she'd been well-fed by the Capitol. Her cheekbones didn't jut out as much as they had by the end of the games, and her eyes weren't quite so sunken in and heavy. Her skin had a rosy, healthy glow. She looked alive.
Cato nudged Nova. She looked down at her cue card and began to recite. "We have acted blindly, influenced by the delirium of our passion," she mumbled absently. The microphone only barely picked her words up, "but thanks to our everlasting love we now see the . . ."
Her mouth went dry. Cato continued from where she had left off. Once he finished the speech, no applause followed. The people in front of them had horrible looks on their faces. It was all justified. She'd built an alliance with one, but mutilated another.
She stepped forward, clearing her throat as she did so. Closer to the microphone stand, there was far less shelter against the weather. The razor-sharp rain spat at her face and stuck to her hair.
"Finch never took a life, never injured. Her hands were always clean. She wouldn't hunt animals for food." Nova braced herself before she could slip. "She refused to resort to violence. She was stronger than that . . ." Nova looked out at Finch's family, just two women she guessed to be her mother and grandmother. "I wish I could've saved her life like I know she would've for me."
The square fell silent. Cato lifted their joined hands into the air. The audience had yet to applaud or make so much as a sound. A woman towards the centre of the crowd lifted her left arm towards the sky with her middle three fingers up. Peacekeepers, about 3 of them, swiftly moved in to escort her out of the event. Some others did the same. With each passing second, the volume in the square increased, and the energy into something more violent.
The moment the first Peacekeeper revealed their baton, Cato ushered Nova inside. Her eyes were wide in bewilderment. The sound of shouting and the smack of batons was instantly muffled with the closing of the Justice Building doors behind them, but she could still hear it: the cries of rage, the uproar, the chaos. The further the Peacekeepers pushed, the more the people rebelled.
"Nova." A hand waved in front of her face.
She blinked as her gaze flitted forward. Wiress stared directly into her eyes. Even in the safety of the Justice Building, everyone sounded confused, stressed, and uncomfortable.
"Are you okay?" Wiress asked.
Nova shook her head. Wiress pulled her into a hug. There was always an element of awkwardness with any displays of affection from Wiress, but that never took away from the warmth behind it.
But that warmth was undeserved. The people outside were rioting, and with no sign of things settling again any time soon. They were rioting because of her, and because of what she'd said and done.
"Finch would be proud," Wiress said.
Nova wiped a tear from beneath her eye before it could drizzle past her eyelid and nodded.
⊱ ────── {.⋅ ✯ ⋅.} ────── ⊰
Author's note: I figured I'd make up for my lack of update with a particularly long chapter. It's been a busy summer, bffs. I'll try to get back into a regular rhythm :(
