CHAPTER 16
Back To FourFinnick's eyes travelled to his hands, clenching them together as if his next words were causing him physical pain. "I'd be lying if I said I don't," he admitted. "But it's not for the reasons you're thinking. It's just that, when we were on the rooftop chatting, you might think it was strange, but I've lived that many times. So many things repeated from when I met you, I can't help to wish you could remember it all."
Olive fell silent, listening to his every word. She couldn't articulate a word, despite how much she wanted to vent out her frustration. It wasn't the time or place. And she knew it. So she pressed her lips into a thin line and kept her full attention on the boy beside her.
"That doesn't mean I'll force you to remember, or try to. I know you're lost, and you're confused, and you, more than anyone, need to take a breath to calm down. And I'll be there. Besides you. Because we're friends now. Get ready, sweetheart, 'cause I'm not going anywhere." He let out a sigh. "You don't have to deal with everything on your own. I know my reputation doesn't precede me on it, but I know how to listen and help if you let me."
Her breath caught in her throat. She forced it down with a quick gulp and snickered to lighten up the mood. "I'll keep that in mind the next time I have a full-on panic attack."
"Don't wait for that to happen. Whenever you don't know something. When you feel like something's bothering you, or you just realise you're overthinking, come to me. I'll help you in any way I can," Finnick promised, locking eyes with Olive to convey his sincerity.
"Thanks." She just choked out a reply out when the doors burst open.
Piscia came barging in with an annoyed look on her face, though the most worrisome part was her stained outfit. Neither Olive nor Finnick would believe that she had committed a mistake that would lead her to spill her drink on herself, which meant something had happened in the dinner car; an argument most likely.
"Seems that being a victor for over fifteen years doesn't teach them manners," Piscia muttered to herself as she passed by them to her chambers.
"What in the world happened back there?" Olive whispered, though she didn't expect any answers from Finnick.
"Let's find out." He got up and offered her a hand to help herself up, which she took.
They walked together; Finnick leading the way as Olive trailed behind. Everything was new to her. She couldn't remember being on the train, nor having ever seen the inside, so she followed his friend while studying her surroundings. It wouldn't be great if she got lost later; if she ever ended up being left alone.
Finnick stopped in front of a door, having to take one step backwards and then forwards for it to detect him and open. The room was a disaster. Broken glass was scattered all around the floor. Bottles of wine were left on a table, some empty, some full.
Librae had a glass with a transparent liquid in it, which Olive hoped was only water. When she saw them, she smirked and greeted them. Ron was at the side, hiding the wine while huffing loudly.
"What happened here?" Finnick inquired.
"Just a tiny fight with Piscia. Nothing to worry about," Librae answered slowly, baffling all victors in the room.
"Tiny fight? She was storming mad. Also, don't know if you noticed, but there's broken glass on the floor and like three empty bottles of wine." Finnick pointed at the floor, then the table, which still had some empty bottles despite Ron's cleaning.
Librae stared at her glass with a dubious look. Then, raised her eyes to meet Finnick's. "She mentioned my family."
A mixed sensation of awkwardness and sincere worry filled the room. Finnick relaxed visibly, almost as if shocked at her words. Olive thought to know why. It was well known in Four how most of Librae Ogilvy's family had died under odd situations after her games, which made word spread that she was cursed. She had seen her mentor's parents around the black market a few times, but she doubted they even acknowledged that they had one of their four children still alive any more.
"Of course, I wasn't drunk enough to lose my mind." Librae gulped the transparent liquid and sighed. "At least until she began talking about my son." She stopped to look at the ceiling, struggling to keep the tears from flooding her sight. "My son, Finnick, my son. How could she? How dare she?"
Finnick took a step at the same time Ron did. Librae, despite not be currently drinking alcohol, was already drunk; not something she knew how to control. Much less when she dealt with intense emotions. Ron approached slowly, not wanting to seem a threat in her eyes.
"It was very wrong of her to mention him, but that doesn't make violence justifiable," Ron said as he sat beside her, holding her hand between his own. "I'll talk to her, OK? I'm sure she didn't mean to hurt you. She never does. You know Piscia, she's from the Capitol. They barely care about people's emotions."
"And because she's from the Capitol, it's justifiable for her to talk about my dead son? The one that they killed with their fucking Hunger Games? Huh? Is it, Ron? Is it justifiable?" Librae kept raising her voice as she spoke until it got to a point she was yelling at him.
"It's not." He raised a hand to her hair, patting it carefully. "But she's not going to change. She never will. Piscia will never realise why and how what she says can hurt someone, because she doesn't care. She's just going to keep being herself. At the end of the day, the only one suffering will be you."
"It's not fair," Librae choked out, allowing tears to stream down her cheeks. "I hate her. I hate all of them. They should just drop dead."
"I know," Ron kept whispering as he engulfed Librae in a hug. "I, too, wish that sometimes."
Finnick walked back to Olive, who had remained by the entrance at all times, not knowing what else to do. Her friend's presence drove her attention away from the older mentors, who were still hugging and venting out their emotions.
"Let's give them some privacy," Finnick whispered to her.
She nodded and turned to the doors, which swung open in front of her eyes. With a last glimpse at her mentors, Olive marched down the corridor with her friend. Neither said anything. It didn't seem possible to light the mood after that heartbreaking sight of the most strong-minded woman they knew, breaking down.
A couple of minutes later, they found themselves back in the living room, sitting on a couch side by side. Olive's head rested on her knees, which she hugged closer to her chest every few seconds as they kept slipping down.
"What are you two looking so gloomy about?" Piscia's loud, at that moment quite irritating, voice made them realise of her presence before them.
The escort was in a new, even fancier dress. Her forced smile made it clear she was nowhere near as happy as she wanted them to believe; the way the right corner of her mouth twitched gave it away.
"You hurt Librae," Olive answered plainly.
"Hurt? Excuse me? How in the world did I hurt her, because, as I remember it, she was the one who threw the wine at my dress! I didn't raise a finger at her!" Piscia stretched, offended.
"Did you, or did you not, talk about her son?" Asked Olive.
"Well, of course I did. He was so handsome, it's such a shame he —"
"That's the problem, Piscia." Finnick interrupted her.
"Words hurt, too. You hurt her." Olive added, ruffling her own hair, feeling strangely calm for the unnecessary complex situation she had engaged in.
"Well, but . . ." The escort fought to defend herself, but fell silent immediately. "But her damage was greater. My dress is ruined."
"We're not saying Librae shouldn't apologise. But, a dress can be replaced. Feelings are not so easy to mend. Have you ever lost someone close to you? Or do you have someone you love? Someone that you would trade your soul to protect?" Said Finnick.
Piscia stopped to think. She brought a hand to her chin and meditated for a minute. Her eyes widened just so slightly after a couple of seconds. "I do, my niece."
"That will do," Olive continued with the interrogation. "Now, imagine she's taken away from you. Dead or not, just taken away. And someone brings her up randomly during a conversation. How would you react?"
"I'd made sure they're banned from all parties for the rest of their meaningless lives," Piscia replied with a straight face.
"That's harsh." Piscia, who smiled at the thought that someone understood how bad her threat would be for anyone in the Capitol, completely overlooked Finnick's sarcasm. "Anyway, do you now see how you hurt Librae?"
Their escort once again fell deep in thought, but quickly regained her grasp on reality. "I might have been a bit careless with my phrasing." She got up and walked out the doors, leaving both victors utterly stunned in their seats.
"That woman beats me," Olive muttered, still staring at the door.
"Well, we made her understand something, or at least I hope so." He ran his fingers through his hair; the attempt to make Piscia, a Capitol woman, understand all that had been exhausting. "Anything you want to do?"
"Rest. I feel like I haven't had that in a while," she answered, resting the back of her head on the couch.
"I concur," Finnick snickered, and got in a strangely comfortable position to sleep.
With his arms folded over his chest, and his legs crossed on the table before them, he closed his eyes. Seconds later, a sudden weight landed on his shoulder. He didn't need to look to know who it was, but he still did. It wasn't a surprise. He and Olive were alone in the room, after all. Although, he had to admit; her sleeping face was adorable.
After hours of peaceful slumber, a hand shaking her arm woke Olive up. She propelled herself up in a heartbeat, making her hands land on a surface way different from the couch she was supposedly sleeping on.
"Had a nice nap with lover boy?" Ron questioned with a grin.
She glanced down, meeting Finnick's sleepy eyes. Perhaps she should feel embarrassed. However, Olive couldn't help but snicker. The way her friend was analysing his surroundings, as if he had lost himself in a dream, was appealing to her humour.
"I think you should ask Finnick that," Olive said, getting up from the couch before glancing at Ron. "Is something the matter?"
"Well, I thought you'd like to know we're ten minutes away from District Four," replied Ron.
"You're kidding," Olive breathed out. However, at the lack of reply, she went directly to the windows, which allowed her to have a perfect view of the vast sea. A little further down the rails, she could see the town; the part of District Four she and her family belonged to, or did before. "Finally home."
The train slowed down as they got closer to their district. Olive's eyes gleamed with joy, making them appear like the sea itself. Not far behind her, Finnick and Ron watched with smiles plastered on their faces, as she couldn't seem to control her happiness, not even for the cameras and people that were waiting for them.
"Alright Olive, I know you're excited, but remember there will be cameras out there expecting you." Librae walked into the room, looking fresher than ever. "It's better to not let them know just how much you love to be away from the Capitol."
Olive breathed through her nose and relaxed her arms as she stepped back a couple of steps. Her eyes travelled to her mentor, looking for approval, which received a prideful nod in reply. She waited for long minutes for the train to finally stop at the station. When the doors opened, there was only her rationality holding her back from running in circles until she found her family.
The crowd was overwhelming, though the few cameras were way worse — doing close-ups of her face as she waved at the people. It surprised Olive how well she could hide her frustration; thirty seconds standing on the platform, and she still hadn't spotted her family.
"Olive!" A cry echoed through the crowd, making her attention go everywhere at once.
All rationality flew out of her body, and she ran down the stairs to the crowd, which was leaving a space around the middle. She couldn't see the owner of the voice, nor anyone else from her family. However, as she glanced to her right, Annie appeared, pushing her way through the crowd to her.
"Annie!" Shouted Olive. They ran, colliding together like two pieces of the same puzzle; a perfect fit in each other's arms. Her trembling hands gripped her twin's clothes, wanting to make sure it wasn't just a dream.
Annie was there. They were finally together. Back in Four, safe, and together; a dream come true. Her twin hid her face on her shoulder, whispering repeatedly, "You remember me, right? You know who I am. You know Theo. Gianna. Dad. Mum. Please tell me you remember all of us."
"I do, Annie. I do remember all of you," Olive whispered back. She brought a hand to her twin's hair, stroking it to reassure her in one of the few ways she knew. "I'm back."
"Welcome home," Annie breathed out with an exhausted laugh. "Welcome home, Olive."
"Olive!" Another yell brought the twins to acknowledge their surroundings.
They let go of each other, letting Olive prepare herself for Theo's tackle. Her little bother squeezed himself between two adults, barely keeping his feet on the ground, and ran at her. Engulfing Theo in her arms was considerably easier, as he was considerably shorter than her. However, his eagerness to make sure she wasn't an impostor broke the hug immediately.
"If you're Olive, who am I?" Asked he.
"The most annoying, yet adorable little brother ever," she replied with a grin. "I'm back, Theo."
"You're back," he barely choked out his words as a storm of tears began running down his face. He brought his hands to his eyes, rubbing them to stop himself from crying. It wasn't long before he completely gave up and threw himself back into her arms. "You're back!"
"Olive," a voice not louder than a whisper, turned her attention to her older sister. Gianna stood beside their father, tears threatening to escape their eyes. "You're back."
"Why is it so hard to believe?" Olive joked, extending an arm towards them, welcoming them to the family hug.
Gianna chuckled, kissing her younger sister's head, and muttered. "You almost died on us, dumbass. Of course, we'll have a time believing that you're here."
"My bad. I'm sorry, I'll try not to almost die again," Olive grinned, ruffling her older sister's hair, which she had never really done before, but still got away with it.
The advantage of almost dying. She thought.
"Hate to break the touching moment, but I think you might want to continue this—" Librae motioned to the group with a circular motion. " —in your new house."
The family broke the hug and stepped aside for Olive to have the last required moments of spotlight in front of the cameras. It was tedious for her: waving, smiling, faking to care. She just wanted to get home, or rather, her new house in Victor's Village. Just any place where she could stay with her family all day and not let go.
Unsurprisingly, the house in Victor's Village was enormous. There were enough rooms for everyone; no need for any of them to share. The news brought mixed feelings among the children. They had lived together for so long that they couldn't imagine having an entire room for themselves.
No bunk beds, a lot of space, cold colours. That's what Olive's room was like. Somehow, she didn't like it. She missed the chaotic, compact, warm feeling that her old house had. Even if sharing a room with her siblings wasn't always pleasant, it was better than the loneliness she felt at the sight of the room.
"We'll get more decorations, even paint it. In no time, it'll look like home," her father promised, kissing her head as they all glanced inside.
"How can a furnished room look this empty?" Annie wondered out loud.
"It might be because we're not used to this much space. We can't forget we've spent all our lives sleeping in the same cramped room. This is the complete opposite of that." Gianna suggested.
"Yeah," Olive whispered. "So we agree it's hideous?"
"Yes."
"Absolutely."
"Uh-huh."
Their father sighed and pinched the bridge of his nose. "We'll bring the bunk beds over tomorrow. Let's just lay a mattress on the ground for tonight. Even if that's a king-sized bed, I doubt you'll all fit there."
"I get top bunk this time!" Theo declared excitedly, jumping up and down with his immense energy.
"No, you won't. Last time, you almost broke your nose." Gianna waved at him dismissively with a dramatic straight face, accomplishing to make the twins laugh in sync; not something that happened frequently.
A knock on the front door stopped the laughter, and made everyone glance among themselves, wondering if anyone was expecting visits. The silenced was, yet again, halted as the door burst open. An elder man walking in happily, as if he hadn't scared the residence's habitants.
"Rhett, you can't just barge in like that!" Another elder man came in after the previous intruder, grabbing onto his arm to pull him back.
"I just want to meet the new victor," The man, apparently called Rhett, whined like a puppy, which made his companion's grip falter.
"Still no. You knock and wait for the people to allow you in. Not barge in as if you own the place." The other man reprimanded.
"You're no fun, Clem." Rhett huffed.
"At this point, I think it doesn't matter anymore how he came in," Olive's father got the elders' attention. "With all due respect, but would you care to explain the reason for your visit?"
Rhett chuckled and rested a hand on his hip. "Your and your family's safety, that's why we're here."
Joe glanced at his children; all of them holding each other's hand to calm themselves down. His eyes went back to the men and pointed towards the recently discovered living room. "It might be too late to say this. But, please, enter. Do close the door behind you, though."
"Better if we don't. The others won't take much to get here, too." Rhett declared.
"Others?" Gianna took a step forward.
"Yes, the other victors," Theo said. "We need to give Navin and the rest of you some last-minute advice if you don't want to follow our footsteps. And, trust me, you don't want to."