Olive turned the pages of her diary like Gianna read books, oblivious as to what would happen next.
She hid in the corner of the bathroom; the door closed and locked. There were two hours left until her Annual Visit began, and she had no desire to leave her victor's house. Her first celebration was President Snow's granddaughter's birthday party, which she would attend alongside the new victors, who she supposedly knew.
The diary was a riddle she couldn't decipher. Judging by the dates, she had forgotten two months of her life. Why? What could have happened? Everyone she loved was alive. Annie and Angel were happy as a couple. Gianna and Theo were safe, despite her little brother still having one year left of Reaping to go through.
She skipped a few pages to the most recent addition to her notes. It took a single name to get her full attention on the careless and quick writing. Few notes were like that. Her handwriting was usually neat, or with a few crosses. However, the explanation for the rush was on the same page.
'President Snow visited me today under the excuse of congratulating me for my successful complete transition. No one believed it, though. I doubt anybody believes anything that man says anymore.'
A sentence started — something about her part of the deal being insufficient to President Snow — but a large gash crossed it right after the word wine until the word poison. After that, the same four words were repeated again and again, all in the same anxious and quick handwriting.
'I want to remember. I want to remember. I want to remember.'
It continued for half a page, until the very end, where a short phrase, written in better, calm handwriting, delivered perhaps what hurt Olive the most.
'I can't forget them again.'
Not caring for the noise, Olive slammed the diary close and threw it across the bathroom. Her hands travelled to her head, pressing against her temples in a desperate attempt to control her headache. The air got stuck in her throat, her chest going up and down with no control. Tears blurred her sight.
I forgot, she repeated inside her head. I forgot. He found a way to make me forget.
"Olive?"
The voice was no one from her blood-related family. It was Angel, their latest addition. The girl, from what Olive had read in the diary, had recently declared her feelings to Annie, which meant she perhaps was the best person to talk to at the moment.
"Hey, are you alright? Piscia and all those Capitol people will be here in a minute."
Olive got up as she could, her knees close to buckling due to her body's heaviness. Her hands reached the door, a finger brushing against the lock, but not opening it. Though ragged and teary, her voice contradicted all her thoughts.
"I'll be there," she said, trying to get her voice not to break. "Give me a minute."
There was a second of silence, in which Olive leaned her back against the door, a hand over her mouth to keep the sniffs and cries from being heard. Footsteps sounded outside the bathroom door, some going towards the stairs, others towards the entrance of the house.
"OK," Angel finally answered. "Come when you're ready."
The book lay open next to Olive; the words haunting her like an endless nightmare. How would she tell her family? Was there an easy way to do it? Could she walk up to them and say that she had no clue what had happened in the past two months? That any important conversation or moment had been forgotten inside the dark abyss of her memory.
'I can't forget them again.' The words didn't leave her mind. Her family had suffered enough, with or without the past two months' memories. She knew that. There was no need to add to that suffering, much less make them worry about her all over again.
Olive bumped the back of her head against the door, needing nothing more than a break from the Capitol and its people. Her prep team, however, had other plans for her as they loudly made their entrance inside her house, Piscia's reprimanding voice appearing right after them.
"Where's our victor?" Sienna yelled excitedly, not receiving any responses. "Well, don't just answer all at once!"
"She'll be here in a minute," said Angel in a harsh tone.
"You can wait in the living room or the children's bedroom," added Joe.
With tears bottling up in her eyes, Olive gripped the sink to get up. She missed Finnick's house. There, no mirror could show her reflection: flushed cheeks, runny nose, and red eyes. It would have been better not to know how she looked. Instead, she had to keep a hand on the sink to keep her knees from failing with the pressure, and the other washed her face to cover up her panic attack. She brushed her hair with her fingers, getting it wet in the process so the mess she had created wouldn't be noticed. Her prep team would later do whatever they wanted with it, so it wouldn't bother them much if she got it slightly wet.
Feeling more confident over her balance, Olive picked up her diary and rapidly made her way to her room, where her prep team was already waiting for her with Cario.
"Hey," she breathed out, being immediately hugged by the team.
Cairo approached with his hands on his hips. He brought two fingers to her chin, forcing her to look up. "Prepare the dress," he ordered to the three others, and then his attention was back to Olive. "And you. You've been crying. Why?"
"I—" Olive fiddled with the diary in her hands. "I have a lot on my mind lately."
"Alright," he mumbled, taking his hand off her chin. "Do you need me to listen, or …?"
"No," she answered quickly. "No, I … I just need to get this whole visit thing to be over."
No questions asked, Cairo made her sit on a chair by the centre of the room and brushed her hair. The prep team began chattering among themselves, mostly about recent Capitol rumours and gossip. To her dismay, all of them contained the victors in one way or another. If it wasn't Finnick's rumoured new partner, it was Haymitch's lack of drunk scandals since his tributes won, or his same tributes announcing their engagement just that morning.
"Poor kids," Olive muttered under her breath, waiting impatiently for the Capitol people to tell her she could put on her new clothes.
Marcus finished polishing and painting her nails in a sea-blue colour. He got up, brushing the invisible sweat off his forehead as he sighed. There was a moment of silence, which the prep team used to admire their own work, before Cario urged them to get out of the room.
"Do I need help to put on the dress?" she asked, seeing as Cario unzipped the bag that protected the outfit from stains and dust.
Cairo shook his head. But before he could ask her why, Olive had already slipped into the bathroom and was changing her clothes. Avoiding looking in the mirror, she placed the dress on the ground, slid it up over her body and pulled the zip as far up as her arms allowed her.
She came out of the bathroom, turning around to get Cario to finish zipping up the dress. After setting her hair up with many braids that made the composition look like a bird's nest to Olive's standards, the two walked down the stairs to the living room. The few that were waiting for them to go towards the Capitol stood up at the sight of them.
Close to no words were interchanged between the family before Olive left. Just long hugs and comforting pats on the back. Only Theo, who had grown to be taller than his older sister, spoke.
"Be careful, alright?" Theo said, wrapping his arms around Olive's torso. "Come back in one piece."
"I'll try," Olive promised, Angel's continuous analysing look forcing her eyes to avoid hers. "You take care of dad, Annie, and Gianna, alright?"
"Will do."
The train ride felt shorter than usual. Perhaps it was because she had spent the entire night at the back, sitting on the sofas, and watching the trees pass by mindlessly. There wasn't much else Olive felt like doing. She could have read two months' worth of stories she couldn't remember, but, while on the way to the reason that she had forgotten, there was no reason to do it when she would probably forget again.
'I forgot. Two months.' That was all her contribution to that day's page.
Nothing else was needed, and there wasn't much space to write it either. Olive closed the diary and left it on her lap, her eyes travelling back to the forest passing by. The day had long ago returned, replacing the starry night sky with the sun. Her mind shut off, not recalling the passing of time or noticing the intruder in the room.
"You look like you would rather be anywhere else than here," said Piscia while taking a seat next to Olive on the sofa.
"I wonder why that might be?" Olive muttered, the corner of her mouth curving up, but her eyes never leaving the outside. "What is it? Dinner time, lecture time, or just coming over to say hi?"
Piscia shifted her position, minding no manners, as she rested her feet on the coffee table in front of the sofa. "Where's the option 'I just wanted a break but didn't want to be alone'?"
"I guess you can always add it," said Olive, finally glancing at Piscia with raised eyebrows at the position. "Would you look at that? I think you need more than a break. What happened?"
Without a pause, but with much gesticulation, Piscia went on rambling about her job and the new demands she had been given since District Twelve had won. Every tiny rule had increased its importance, apart from, for the first time in her entire career, her life being mildly threatened.
"Great," Olive muttered sarcastically. "If Capitol people are being threatened now, what hope's left for us district pawns?"
"I—" Piscia rested a hand on Olive's leg, unsure what to say. "It'll get better, right? I mean, everything can be made new . . ."
With the hint of a smile, Olive narrowed her eyes at Piscia. "You wouldn't know something I don't, right, Piscia?"
The escort's eyes widened, but she rectified the gesture immediately. Forcing a chuckle, she rested her head on her hand and stared directly into Olive's eyes. Not in the casual way, but the robotic, almost begging to be believed type.
"Of course not."
Olive simply nodded and let it go. There was no point in insisting. Piscia wouldn't explain anything to her. She knew that much about her own escort. Hopefully, whatever information she hid wouldn't be dangerous.
Minutes passed in silence, and finally, the train pulled into the Capitol station. There were a few people around, mostly guards. Everyone else had to be in their own homes, preparing themselves for the night's festivity.
Alongside Piscia, Olive descended from the train, being pushed around by Peacekeepers to a car waiting for them. It drove around the Capitol's streets without much rush. Just like in the station, the streets were calm. Few people were outside, and those who were simply admired the televisions that broadcasted everything about the engagement of the new victors again and again. No one seemed to get bored with it.
Back in the Tribute Centre, Piscia was about to press the button to get the lifts to descend when someone did it for her. Finnick smiled cockily at her, making Piscia huff and took a step back to gesture him towards Olive.
"Oh, and there you are, Cresta. I didn't recognise you with all that makeup on," he said, stifling a laugh.
"Sure you didn't," answered Olive in the same mocking tone as him. "So, how come the Capitol's Darling wants to ride the lift with us?"
There was a ding sound, and the doors to the lift opened, prompting Finnick to motion for Piscia and Olive to get in before him. "Well, honey, I didn't know if you noticed, but we're going to the same floor."
"You're right." Olive pressed the Four-floor button. "How could I have forgotten?"
"Well, you do have a terrible memory," he said, leaning on the wall of the lift.
Olive smiled at him and played it as if she wouldn't give any further comebacks to their playful argument. However, without him or Piscia noticing, she rested her head on the wall and mumbled to herself, "If only you knew."
Flour's floor was quiet, though not in a peaceful way. Olive could only pity Finnick as they sat down on the sofa. Staying alone in that place for two days couldn't have been easy, much less with his part of the deal with President Snow. Even with the television on, Caesar's upbeat voice couldn't distract them from their surroundings, as if they were expecting anything to pop out of nowhere.
"I'll go drink something," said Piscia tiredly, pausing to look at the both of them. "Do you want anything?"
"No, thanks," they replied before watching her leave.
Not needing to say a word, both scooted closer to one another, their hands intertwining. Olive let her head fall on Finnick's shoulder, her eyes closing as she had no desire to know the Capitol's new trend or the incredible proposal that District Twelve victor, Peeta Mellark, had done for his supposed lover, Katniss Everdeen.
"Is everything OK?" Finnick asked, concern filling his voice.
"Well," Olive began, readjusting her head to be more comfortable, "President Snow paid a visit, I'm in the same city as him, and you and I need to watch out what we do and say because our families could die … I'm perfect, why do you ask?"
"Sarcasm is not your thing," said Finnick, stifling a snigger. "Neither is it lying."
Hours passed like minutes. And everything that should have caught their attention — like the arrival of their prep teams and stylist — was completely disregarded as they faked watching Caesar's show. There was nothing either would rather do. Being next to one another was all they needed; having the other next to them, safe and sound, somehow brought a spark of serenity that otherwise they would lose.
Not letting Caesar finish his sentence, Piscia turned off the television and turned to look at Olive and Finnick. "I'm sorry, but you two need to get ready."
President Snow's party for his granddaughter's birthday got more luxurious with every year that passed. It was impressive to see the musicians floating in clouds above everyone else. Food, as always, was displayed extravagantly. The unnamed drink that allowed people to keep eating all around, prompting them to be mistaken for normal drinks by those unfamiliar with them.
Taking advantage of the new victors' arrival, which got everyone's attention on the two teenagers, Finnick grabbed Olive's hand and whispered, "It'll be fine."
"I know." Olive nodded, seeing as the Capitol's gazes were still on the couple. "I just want to go back home."
"Just two more days," said Finnick, squeezing her hand comfortingly.
"Yeah …" She flashed him a smile, seeing as Finnick had to force himself to let go of her hand to walk towards some Capitol women that were starting to divert their attention from the couple to him.
Not wanting to eat a thing from the vast display of food, Olive chatted with Piscia as they looked for Johanna amongst the crowd. Just as they were passing by the food side, Olive stumbled upon the new victors. Katniss was taking a single bit of everything she could, then giving the rest to Peeta. However, as their eyes landed on her, they both paused for a second.
"Hello, Olive," Peeta said, taking Katniss's hand to snap her out of her daze.
"Hi," Olive replied doubtfully, seeing Katniss give her a slight nod. "Um, congratulations on your engagement."
"Thank you." Peeta tried to keep on his best Capitol smile due to Piscia's presence. However, compared to Finnick's, the boy still had work to do to perfect it. "We're quite lost around here. So many people are talking to us and we don't even know them."
"You'll get used to that." She took a glass of wine from the table next to her, feigning to be drinking it so the Capitol men that had their eyes on her since a while ago wouldn't come over to offer her a drink. "I worry about Katniss, though. These people don't really care about anything." The teens gave her a worried look but kept quiet, as if waiting for a mentor to keep giving them instructions. "Just don't leave each other's side, alright?"
Katniss nodded and kept on eating. Olive smiled, feeling slightly proud of being accepted by the young girl. They weren't friends, that was for sure. It didn't seem like friendship would be easy to obtain from someone like her. However, Katniss was allowing herself to do something she normally wouldn't in front of a threat; put down her guard.
"So, how are you liking the Capitol?" Olive asked Peeta, feeling like doing small talk, while Piscia went to search for Johanna herself. "And don't say that the showers are different, Peeta. You already made that joke."
"Lots of food." He raised the plate in his hand, which kept being filled by Katniss. "Lots of people, and flashy clothing."
"Don't say more, I get it." Olive chuckled. "You know, you kind of remind me of my brother, Theo. He's . . . he's grown to be such a cocky brat . . . it's his last year with his name in the reaping bowl, and it has to be the Quarter Quell."
The couple stopped eating to look at her, frowning softly as they exchanged weird looks. Peeta was the first to look back at Olive, but it was Katniss who spoke.
"You told us that already," she said in a soft tone. "When we visited Four . . . you don't remember?"
Olive froze, barely holding the glass between her fingers. "I . . ." Her eyes travelled around her, spotting Piscia coming over to them with Johanna. Quickly, she looked back at the new victors and tried her best to form a plausible smile. "Just joking."
"Olive, dear," Piscia said, brushing Olive's arm with her long sleeves. "Sorry, Katniss, Peeta, I require my victor to come with me—" she pointed at Johanna. "She's the only one that can control her."
Not giving enough time for the two new victors to say anything, Olive nodded and walked away with Johanna. "Let's go outside. I need to breathe fresh air."