Blaine Abernathy: A Canary Caged

Disclaimer: I do not own the Hunger Games

Warning: The chapter mentions animal death and cruelty.

Chapter 38: The Reading of the Quells

Blaine's POV

I was going through the motions. My mask is fully up during the day as I smile at the people who ruined my life. I was a canary in a cage, singing when I was told to sing. Interacting with people so they feel better. And posing myself for pictures in front of the camera.

That is what I did when I was in the Capitol. However, the moment I enter the Training Center. I lay down in bed or on the couch, lost in my emotions. A numbness that consumed me, bringing me back to my early years of depression and trauma. As Midnight's mangle body and blood brought horrible memories from the Arena. All the tributes from my game and those after screaming in my ear.

The Avoxes tried to comfort me, unaware of what was happening but knew something happened. As they placed teas and sweets around me. Adjusting pillows and placing a blanket over me if I fall asleep. To which I was thankful.

Effie tried to cheer me up, yet it resulted in an argument. As she said, "Midnight was just a stupid cat. Get over it."

I nearly saw red.

Midnight was more than just a cat.

He was family.

After that argument, Effie only came to collect me.

Portia would stop by or accompany me to the appointments I had. She got me dressed and presentable for the interviews, photoshoots, and other activities. As she tried to cheer me up to the best of her ability.

And then it was Cinna. He was there as well, most of the time, as he would spend the night holding me in his arms, and I cried myself to sleep. Cinna has been supportive as he tried to comfort me and take care of Shiloh. Shiloh has been by my side even when I go out. Effie was not pleased, but I would not leave Shiloh alone.

Cinna kissed the top of my head, "You need to be strong."

I sniffled, "It's hard."

He rubbed my back, "I know. I know."

Suddenly the doors burst open as someone shouted, "Blaine!"

Johanna! I thought in astonishment, sitting up straight. Cinna corrected himself since our relationship was supposed to be a secret. Johanna came marching in, still in her casual District Seven attire. She held a determined look as her brown eyes searched the apartment until coming into the living room seeing me with Cinna.

She sighed in relief.

"Jo, what are you doing here?" I asked, astonished she was in the Capitol.

Johanna hated being in the Capitol with a passion. The only time she was here was for the Hunger Games, not anything else. Especially when she declined to be a prostitute. Not once has she shown for interviews, photoshoots, or anything. So, seeing her in the Capitol was baffling.

Before Johanna could answer, Finnick came in along with another person. Miya. Finnick, I understand, and I believe Simon mentioned he was working on Miya's first album. But what are they doing here? Unless Finnick got another client.

"Look who just arrived," Finnick said playfully. "Caught this little mermaid in the lobby."

"And you drag her here," Johanna accused. .

"Can't have her stay on her floor alone," Finnick murmured.

Miya was blushing, "Um…hi, Blaine."

I blinked, "What are you guys doing here?"

Johanna came over and plopped herself next to me while putting her boots on the coffee table, "For you, bitch."

"For me?" I asked, confused.

Finnick guided Miya to the other portion of the couch as they sat down, "Haymitch called and told us what happened. Jo and I would have been here sooner, but I had to pull some strings."

"Don't know why Miya's here," Johanna said.

Miya looked down, rubbing her hands, "Mr. Simon made a contract with me to make an album."

"Congrats," I said, trying to comfort the girl.

Cinna adjusted himself, "I better get going."

I looked at him, "Are you sure?"

Cinna nodded, "I have some designs to work on. I'll see you tomorrow."

I nodded, hiding my disappointment, for I didn't want to go to bed alone. Cinna has spent the night with me since returning to the Capitol. So far, my nightmares have been limited to nonexistence. Yet I understand; he was trying to give me space to be with my friends.

"Thank you for coming," I said.

Cinna nodded as he got up, giving a proper goodbye to everyone before leaving. All eyes were on him until we heard the door closed. Johanna stared at me with an arched brow.

"Why was he here?" she asked.

While petting Shiloh, I tried to think of a lie: "He was going over designs."

"Uh huh," Johanna replied. "And where is his portfolio?"

Damn it, I thought.

"In his car, he came back to chat over little things," I lied.

Johanna paused, then shrugged.

"Anyway, how are you all?" I asked.

"Same old, same old," Johanna said. "Climbing and cutting down trees."

I snorted from that and turned to Finnick, "How are Mags and Annie."

"They are doing well," Finnick assured. "Although…Mags completely lost her voice."

"I'm sorry to hear that," I said.

"Yeah," Finnick sighed, "She enjoys smacking me around to get her attention."

I chuckled, imagining that.

I then focused on Miya, "You mentioned you made a contract with Simon."

Miya nodded.

"What kind of music are you gonna do?" I asked.

"Oh, um…folk music. Songs from my district." She answered.

I nodded with a forced smile. No doubt she will fall into the same trap as I was. The Capitol will demand more than folk music. One album will be cute for an outer district girl until the pressure to sing their style of music.

"You used to sing folk music," Miya mentioned. "Mr. Simon showed me your original music."

"He did, did he?" I replied.

Miya nodded, "Um…he wants us to collab."

"Is that so," I murmured.

Miya nodded nervously, "I…I…. I'm scared…. you helped me before…. I shouldn't ask for…. but…."

I chuckled softly, "Easy Miya, I would be honored to collab with you. It'll be nice to sing back to my roots."

Miya sighed in relief and slouched on the bed. Finnick and Johanna laughed at the interaction. With nothing else to say, we shared dinner together. There was small talk as Miya was in the room. It became a silent agreement to preserve what little innocence Miya had. The Arena took the majority, but there was still a young girl in her that we all wanted to save. Miya still had her family; she still had her friends. But being in the Capitol so much is taken away from their greed that we try to make things easier for her until she comes of age.

After dinner, Finnick escorted Miya back to her floor. Johanna and I grabbed some drinks and returned to my room. We changed into comfortable clothes, then sat on the bed. Shiloh hopped on and scurried around until being on my lap. I petted her out of habit. Meanwhile, Johanna grabbed the remote, changing the city skyline into the forest of District Seven.

It wasn't long when Finnick returned, taking off his jacket and all the accessories that define the Capitol's influence. He stole my drink, took a sip, realized it was not a strong alcoholic beverage and nodded approval before giving it back. I took another sip.

"So…Haymitch told you what happened?" I asked.

Johanna nodded, "He said Midnight was dead."

Finnick took my hand, "How bad?"

I inhale sharply before bowing my head to cover my face, "He was mutilated. All his limbs cut off, decapitated, and eyes gouged out."

"Fucking hell," Johanna gasped. "Are you serious?"

I nodded, "His mangled body was put in a box on a bed of roses. With a note."

"What did it say?" Finnick asked.

I tried to control my emotions, yet the answer came out in a sob, "That somebody had to die."

I broke down in tears, unable to hold it in anymore. Finnick scooted over as he embraced me in a hug. Johanna sat there glaring at us, not for the embrace but for the information given.

"No doubt it was President Snow's doing…but why?"

I explained what had been happening in District Twelve. How there was a sudden increase in Peacekeepers under the command of Commander Thread. Who demolished the Hob, set a curfew, and set punishment with a firm hand. The moment he took control, no one knew Commander Cray had retired. Resulting in a teenager selling a turkey to get flogged.

Finnick and Johanna were baffled by this.

"Katniss knew who the teenager was, her…cousin Gale…and tried to stop the flogging. She would have been dead, with Commander Thread aiming a gun at her. If it weren't for Haymitch, Peeta, and I…"

My friends took this information in.

President Snow went personal on me instead of attacking Katniss and her family. He went after me because I was supposed to control her. To keep her in check. The moment I kept my eyes off her, she did this. President Snow could have gone after my tributes' family or members of the Covey. Instead, he goes after my pet. My emotional support animal.

Finnick sighed, "I'm sorry."

I nodded.

Nothing else was said. We all lay on the bed, discussing anything to distract ourselves. Although, I had a question about how Johanna got here. Finnick explained he pulled some strings to get Johanna to be here.

Especially the favor he has to return, which resulted in me laughing. Johanna couldn't help but tease Finnick about it. It was something that even I couldn't repeat. But I appreciate that Finnick did this for me. I had close friends, who I consider my siblings to be here.

No restraints.

.o0o.

In the following days, there was nothing to do. There were no concerts and no interviews or other projects. However, Simon came over to discuss the collaboration with Miya and me. As we went over the music. I was determined that Miya got her style of music and not what the Capitol wanted. Simon seemed to agree as we went over the lyrics.

Afterward, it was spending time with Johanna and Finnick until Finnick had to leave for a date with a client. Which Johanna gagged and shouted, "Make sure you're wearing protection."

I couldn't help but laugh. It was easy for women to have protection with better birth control, especially with implants. Yet not all are so fortunate, as most districts deal with unsafe sex. It makes you wonder if all the women Finnick sleeps with are on birth control or used a condom. The thought there is a little kid or baby Finnick disturbed me if a woman planned it without Fin's consent. I know there are accidents, but a woman doing such a thing was disturbing.

My friends have kept me company, yet Cinna has been absent. He had stopped by and ate dinner with my friends. They were on their best behavior, yet I could tell they were testing him. Evaluating where his loyalties lie. Seeing if he was a flamboyant Capitol citizen or not. They were impressed and let him in on the inside jokes.

However, he couldn't stay for long.

Caesar Flickerman was hosting an interview to show off Katniss's wedding shoot. When the announcement came, a message arrived from a Peacekeeper, a Capitol Guard. As he announced, we would be attending the interview. This caught us off guard since we were not involved in Katniss's photoshoot. But we had no choice but to attend.

Therefore, our stylists arrived, getting us pampered for the interview. Portia came along since Cinna was occupied for tonight's event. We kept it to the new style they both agreed on, no longer dark, although the dress had black lace. My makeup was natural, with a cat eye and hair in an elaborate bun.

My outfit was a nude midi dress covered in black lace. It had a plunging v-neck that was elegant and sleek, floral sheer lace embroidery, and puff sleeves. Followed by diamond stud earrings and the onyx pendant. As for shoes, simple back stilettos.

I thanked Portia as we made our way out. We went our separate ways as she had a seat in the audience. The interview was not at Caesar's studio. But at the Training Center, like they have done for the pageants for the Hunger Games. This caught me off guard, wondering why host it here when there are many locations to host a massive crowd for a live studio audience. Something was not right, and the moment I entered the Victor's booth, I could see it in Finnick's eyes as well.

Tonight is Caesar's interview with Cinna on Katniss's wedding dresses. It was going to be Panem's immediate broadcasting, but what's the point in watching about stupid overrated princess gowns. As much as Cinna put his heart and soul into these gowns, it didn't feel special.

Marriage out of love or convenience shouldn't be like this. Life isn't about marriage; the Capitol keeps stupefying the entire country. I would rather be at home or working instead of standing on the Victor's balcony to watch the damn interview. Unfortunately, President Snow made sure the Victors who were in town were summoned to this event.

So far, Finnick, Miya, and Johanna have been here. I had heard Glimmer, and Gloss were in the area, except they were attending their…dates. Someone must have paid a lot of money if they got a chance to avoid being here.

Miya sat in the chair, nervous since she was unfamiliar with formal affairs. Abby Mare, the other female Victor, agreed that Miya was not ready to be a mentor for the Hunger Games and would come back to do it again. However, it didn't stop the Capitol from summoning Miya now that she had chosen music as her talent. Johanna sat next to her, arms crossed. Miya must have left a good mark since Johanna hasn't been snarky or a bitch toward the girl. A miracle, one would say.

Finnick gestured me over as I took a seat next to him.

"Stupid dresses," Johanna muttered. "They better be worth it."

"I think they might be pretty," Miya softly said..

"Not as pretty as you." Finnick flirted, causing the girl to blush.

I rolled my eyes and smacked him on the shoulder. "Fifteen, Finn."

"What? "Finnick whined playfully, rubbing his arm." I'm just making a compliment."

"That's what he said," Johanna added, afterward bursting out laughing.

"You three are completely different than you were in the arena," Miya mumbled.

Everyone stopped to look at Miya. She was right and wrong at the same time. We are different than we were in the Arena. However, what we were before is entirely a different story. The Arena changes you to a whole new level. It stole our innocence. Especially when we had to kill someone. We all killed people…unlike her, who killed one person out of defense.

Finnick was a fisherman's son who lived a normal teenage life by the water, being funny, mellow, and whatever boys do. Johanna was a tomboy, residing in her independent life her way and loving her family. Then there was me, curious yet prepared for reality and the unknown. And here we are, living through our crucibles and sins that weighed us down from our normal lives. The people we care for are either threatened or dead. Finnick protects Annie and Mags. Johanna isolates herself after her family was massacred. I protect Haymitch, the Covey, the tributes' families, and Cinna. Our lives are nothing more than survival towards others in our sacrifices.

What we were in the Arena showed our dark inner selves. Finnick fights like a gladiator with his net and trident like any career from District Four. Johanna used deception in her personality to fool her enemies until coming out of her shell with a "wicked ability to murder." While for me, I was considered to be an assassin, silent, quick, and manipulative toward those who were not focused. Now we stand in front of Miya in our lost selves, Finnick being a manipulative flirt, Johanna bitter and angry, and I secretive and cautious.

There was no going back, and keeping forward was hardly possible. Not with the snake's tail coiled around us in his grasp. Once you win the Hunger Games, you never go back to normal but enter the next round of the Games. The Arena was the physical test on the best individuals; the next round was the emotional and mental of the secret battle where the tributes are those you loved.

"Miya," Finnick started. "Everybody changes and is different from what we see and experience."

"Just keep your head up and mouth shut," Johanna warned.

"And never trust a book by its cover," I said calmly. "Sometimes the darker selves we keep can scare everybody, including ourselves. We can be ourselves, yet we can't go back to our original selves. It may be difficult to comprehend, but not everyone's the same…."

Miya bit her lip and nodded.

.o0o.

The anthem played, as Caesar Flickerman did his annual introduction in his sequin suit that glittered under the lights and introduced Cinna to the stage, who wore black attire, yet a bit more formal. I smiled at seeing that no matter how important this interview was for his career as a designer, he always wore black and simple.

"He is the son of a famous designer, Chanel Pontmercy, who just started his career at the Institute of Fashion and into the Hunger Games as a stylist for District Twelve. May I introduce you to Cinna, the man who ignited the Girl on Fire!" Caesar announced as he and Cinna shook hands and sat on the two white chairs, "Cinna, thank you for coming here today."

"I'm honored to be here," Cinna replied, showing a bit of his capital accent.

"So Cinna, you have gone through quite a journey, being the youngest designer in Capitol history for the games. How old are you, twenty-one?" Caesar asked.

"I rather not say," Cinna counted. "Age is just a number."

"Ah, an optimistic you are, I see," Caesar laughed at his joke. "Anyway, let's get down to the point; since last year, you have baffled the country with your infamous design for District 12. When Peeta and Katniss came to the opening ceremony, my heart actually stopped. What inspired you to design those costumes? What convinced you to use fire?"

"Well, first off, I wanted to do something that the audience could remember. My Partner, Portia, and I thought not to dress the tributes in complementary costumes; as you know, it's customary to reflect the flavor of the district. Portia and I think that the coal miner thing is overdone. No one will remember Katniss and Peeta in that. And we both see it's our job to make District Twelve tributes unforgettable. So rather than focusing on the coal mining itself, we're going to focus on the coal." Cinna explained. "And what do we do with coal?"

"Ah, now I see, we burn it." Caesar was awed and impressed. "And thus, you created the Girl on Fire."

"An accomplishment I'm glad to commit even to this day."

"Another favorite during the games was Katniss's interview dress. How did you manage to interpret flames into her crystal gown?"

"I'm afraid that is a secret I can't tell you."

They continued to discuss the previous game and how amazing the designs were, as if they were normal conversations. Johanna yawed, not amused, while Miya focused on the conversation. Finnick eyes me suspiciously, pointing his head at Cinna in accusation. I scoffed but nodded in agreement that something was going on between Cinna and I. Finnick smirked, creating a whistled melody for his new deposit of our secrets; how typical of this behavior.

It wasn't long till the giant screens came down, showing off the six wedding dresses Cinna designed for Katniss Everdeen. I glared at the pictures, not out of distaste for the modeling or Katniss, but for the day it was shot. The day Midnight was delivered, mutilated in a box and delivered like some present. Who cares about Capitol Couture? The Districts don't care unless it's from the Career Districts. Otherwise, the middle class and underdogs don't care. Sure, I love Cinna's designs, but the situation they are being used for at the moment doesn't please me or anybody else in the booth of Victors.

Also, the Capitol voted for their favorite dress for the ceremony. It was a monopoly in electing a damn wedding dress and putting profit into the others. It was deviant and downright weird to see these people act so crazy over a stupid dress. A dress the bride should choose, not these people. A wedding in District 12 is hardly a ceremony and reception, costing thousands of dollars. Usually, it's a ceremony where the miners or men find something nice to wear. At the same time, the women go rent out a used white gown worn by countless women. Afterward, they go to the Justice Building to state their vows and sign a marriage certificate and living arrangement. Reception is optional but hardly done with the recession on the economy. But what happens afterward is a ritual District Twelve has, where the couple lights their first fire together, toast some bread, and share their meal. Toasting on fire is the custom in marriage.

"Let's get Katniss Everdeen to her wedding in style!" Caesar hollered out, which the audience cheered.

"And I'm out of here," Johanna grumbled, leaving for her room.

"It's not over yet, Jo," Finnick said, noticing the anthem hadn't been played yet.

"That's right, this year will be the seventy-fifth anniversary of the Hunger Games, which means it's time for our third Quarter Quell!" Caesar cheered.

"What do you think it's going to be?" Miya asked apprehensively.

"Something that is not good," Finnick said calmly, though his face told another story. It has been twenty-five years since the last Quarter Quell. Neither of us was born in the game of Haymitch's victory. The odds are never in the district's favor when it's a Quell.

Once more, the screen showed the Hunger Games propaganda as President Snow's monologue began.

"War. Terrible war. Widows, orphans, a motherless child. This was the uprising that rocked our land. Thirteen districts rebelled against the country that fed them, loved them, protected them. Brother turned on brother until nothing remained. And then came the peace, hard fought, sorely won. As people rose up from the ashes, and a new era was born. But freedom has a cost. And traitors were defeated. We swore as a nation we should never know treason again. And so, it was decreed that each year the various districts of Panem would offer up, in tribute, one young man and woman to fight to the death in a pageant of honor, courage, and sacrifice. The lone Victor, bathed in riches, would serve as a reminder of our generosity and our forgiveness. This is how we remember our past. This is how we safeguard our future."

President Snow made his grand entrance with a boy dressed in a white suit holding an old box. President Snow reminded us of the Dark Days, which gave birth to the Hunger Games. And that once every twenty-five years shall, the Games represent a specific purpose for the actions of the rebels, a theme.

"On the twenty-fifth anniversary, as a reminder to the rebels that their children were, because of their choice to initiate violence, every district was made to hold an election and vote on the tribute who would represent it. On the fiftieth anniversary, as a reminder that the rebels died for each Capitol citizen, every district was required to send twice as many tributes."

That was Haymitch's Game, the game my father won. The game where forty-eight tributes go into the Arena, and one comes out. All the numbers were intimidating; the first Quarter Quell was absurd, like a dagger in the back. President Snow said the war was brother against brother, but how did the districts feel when the tribute's home area voted for your death. How your neighbor, friends, and family sent a child to a game by elections rather than fate. Election, numbers of tributes, and now this Quarter Quell theme shall be….

"And now we honor our third Quarter Quell," the President said. The little boy handed him the small box. Snow opens it to reveal a small ivory envelope. The Quells were important to the Capitol, and their ancestor wrote over a hundred Quell games to make it special over the generation of the Hunger Games. President Snow removes the seal and reads aloud this year's game. "On the seventy-fifth anniversary, as a reminder to the rebels that even the strongest among them cannot overcome the power of the Capitol, the male and female tributes will be reaped from their existing pool of Victors."

Johanna stopped her glaring, eyes wide full with fear. Finnick slammed his fists into the armrest, and I covered Miya's mouth to suppress a scream that erupted. My body felt numb; on autopilot, in keeping posture while inside, I heard the screams from the tributes I killed and those who suffered. Their screams grew louder as the audience gasped and protested such an ordeal. Cameras were being turned to point at us, so I pushed Miya to Johanna, who took the girl away from view while Finnick and I stood up, covering them. We appeared on the monitors; Finnick smirked, waving his hand while I stood there impressed. Though I wasn't impressed, I was completely and utterly furious as the Capitol -no President Snow sent the remaining fifty-eight victors to their execution.

How he stood there calm, observing his pawn's reaction, concluded he sabotaged the Quell's reading. This was a witch hunt. A witch hunt that started the moment Katniss Everdeen pulled out those berries. Hope is what the lone Victor represented in the Hunger Games. Now with two victors last year, doubling the hope, the balance of fear is required. And what better way to show fear than killing what represents hope.

The people who went through hell.

The Victors.

What do you all think about these changes?

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