The next morning, I'm still a bit upset but I decide not to think about it anymore. It was my life on the line and I couldn't lose focus for a second trying to figure out what was going on in Sawyer's mind.
"You ready sweetheart?" I was in the kitchen eating a pastry and downing some hot chocolate when Haymitch came in. The pastry wasn't as good as anything my dad made but it would do. Maybe I could commandeer the kitchen tonight after the interviews and bake something one last time. "You're up early."
"Baker's hours," I tell him. It was true. I was usually up around this time helping my dad with the bakery so it felt weird to have nothing to do but wander the penthouse.
"Well then, let's get to it." Haymitch pours himself a cup of coffee and I'm relieved it's not anything of the alcohol variety, although you never knew with the Capitol.
"What did you and Sawyer talk about?" I blurt out.
"That's between me and the boy," Haymitch tells me, and I know that's the end of that.
"Fine," I sit down in the chair across from him. "So where do we start."
"Hmm." Haymitch thinks for a moment, taking the time to down his coffee. "Well ideally, you would play into Sawyer's confession. People love to see a tragic backstory and it could get you more support."
I immediately shake my head. "No. Not happening. What else you got."
"At least consider-"
"No, Haymitch!" I say, pleading. "They've taken everything from me. I don't want them to take this too. Not if I have other options."
He looks at me for a second, his eyes softening. He looks older now, more tired, and I wonder if years of watching kids in his care die has added to that.
"Alright. I suppose you could play the angle of your sister again. The Capitol thinks you're brave for volunteering for your sister and they want to see you reunited. You need to show them that she's the most important person to you."
"Done. Easy."
"And at least try to come off at least sort of likable."
I ignore his last dig. "What about in the arena?"
"As strong as you might think you are, going into the cornucopia in the beginning is risky. Too many things that are out of your control," Haymitch tells me.
The cornucopia is the area in the center of where the tributes usually start out in the games loaded with weapons and supplies. That's where the initial bloodbath occurs and where the careers often prevail with their first kills of the games. The smart ones will run in the opposite direction, avoiding that first altercation at all costs. I plan on doing the same.
"Look for a water source. That's going to be the most important thing. You're toast if you're dying of dehydration. Get as much distance between you and the careers as possible."
I nod. "Got it." I didn't think there was too much Haymitch could tell me with certainty. The arena changes every year and suits different strengths and weaknesses.
"And most importantly, don't do anything stupid. The second you let your guard down, that's when someone's going to come up behind you and snap your neck."
"Right."
I ask a few more questions about the arena and the games themselves, and Haymitch assures me he's going to do everything he can to try to get me sponsors. I thank him and head back to my room, running into Sawyer on the way. I'm still mad at him but he doesn't seem to feel the same, giving me a smile before continuing on to the kitchen for his session with Haymitch.
I spend the rest of the morning drawing pictures for Dani, eccentric people I've seen in the Capitol, the foods she's never seen before, everything new that I wish I could have experienced with her despite my circumstances. I tucked them away with the other pictures. I don't care what Haymitch said, I was making him hold onto these for me before I went into the arena
I didn't get to see Cinna until I arrived at the stadium where they were holding the final tribute interviews. He had really pulled out all the stops on this dress.
It was elegant but still made me look young, flaring out at the waist. The top section was red lace with delicate feathers lining my shoulders. The skirt looked more like silk, but shinier somehow, in a similar color to the top.
My prep team paints my face, making my face look healthy, getting rid of the sunken eyes from the lack of sleep and making my cheeks rosy and less pale.
"Gorgeous!" Tasten comments, fixing a loose strand of hair.
Augusina claps. "Oh, the Capitol is just going to love you!"
Oh, goody. As out of touch as their comments feel, I can't fully blame them. They think I'm just as excited as they are to be shown off to all of Panem. I don't think they really consider what comes after.
"Thank you," I tell them anyway, and they all beam. Effie told me that Cinna would meet me backstage to make any final adjustments to my outfit so all I had left to do was show up.
Sawyer and Haymitch were waiting by the elevator, and as soon as I saw my district partner, I was irked by my stylist. They definitely made us match on purpose, putting Sawyer in a red suit with a black shimmery tie. They've lined the top of his eyes with silver eyeliner, making his seam eyes even more bright and his hair is similar to his first interview, gelled back, a single curl left to sit on his forehead.
"Was this on purpose?" I ask our mentor, glaring at Sawyer's outfit.
"Can't hurt," he shrugs.
"There's my Girl on Fire." Cinna and Portia come into the waiting area, and Cinna comes right over, adjusting part of my skirt that had been caught under my heel. "I knew this would suit you well."
"It's a beautiful dress, Cinna," I tell him, turning to twirl in it, but Cinna stops me before I can.
"Wait until Remus asks." I'm a little confused by what he means but I nod anyway and join the other tributes in line.
It doesn't seem like any of the tributes are holding back this time, and the Capitol audience seems to be even more invested, some cheering louder for those they voted for while some even have the audacity to boo them.
I can already tell Hudson is going to be a fan favorite, just like Finnick. His stylist put him in a green shirt that brought out his eyes but decided to leave it unbuttoned. I swear some of the ladies in the front row actually looked like they might faint. He tells Remus all about his affinity for the Capitol and I roll my eyes knowing he's lying through his perfectly straight teeth.
Before I know it, I'm up next. Cinna adjusts my skirt one last time with a wink, and gives a gentle nudge when Remus calls out my name. The audience explodes into cheers, but I can't really see any of them under the bright lights. Remus offers his hand to help me to my seat and I gladly take it, sitting in the plush seat, although I can't enjoy the comfort in my nervousness.
"How does it feel to have been chosen for the games this year?" Remus asks. "You must be pretty excited!"
He's asked that question to all of the tributes so far so I don't know why it catches me off guard so much. It takes everything to keep the anger from showing and I can almost see Haymitch's face in my mind, reminding me to try to sound likable.
"I suppose I'm excited that I'm a little bit closer to getting home to my little sister, Dani," I responded. It's the closest I can get to the truth without saying something that feels like I'm disrespecting the memory of the kids who weren't voted in.
The audience awws at that and Remus smiles before getting a glint in his eye that makes me certain I'm not going to like his next question.
"So Willow," Remus waves his mic toward the audience.
"We heard a certain tribute has taken a liking to you," Remus tells me suggestively. The crowd cheers, demanding answers. "Do you have a special someone waiting for you at home?"
I quickly shake my head, my face blushing like crazy.
This makes Remus smile wider. "Is that possibly because that special someone is already closer than you might think?"
I'm about to shake my head to deny it again but I remember what Haymitch said, that this could help me get sponsors. I don't know what kind of game Sawyer is trying to play but there's no reason why if he's using me, then I shouldn't get to use him a little too.
So I muster up what I think is a coy expression, as I internally cringe. "I suppose only time will tell, Remus." I smile, throwing in a light laugh for good measure.
"We're all dying to know more," Remus nods. "But we're almost out of time and I heard a certain stylist wants you to show off your dress."
I glance over at Cinna, who is still standing in the wings and he nods.
"Well," I slowly stand up and the audience watches, waiting to see why. "Cinna wanted me to twirl for you all and show off this beautiful dress. Would that be okay?' I turn to the crows to make it seem like I'm asking them. They seem to like that.
"Well let's see it!" Remus is encouraging and I cross one foot over the other to start twirling. As soon as I do, I understand why Cinna wanted me to wait until I was out here. The bottom of my dress immediately is engulfed in the synthetic flames from the tribute parade. I'm emboldened by the roar of the crowd and continue to spin until the buzzer goes off, signaling my time is over.
"Willow Mellark! The girl on fire!" Remus offers me his hand to steady me from my dizziness and I take it, allowing the room to stop spinning before waving and walking off the stage.
Despite what he does for a living, I appreciate that he actually seems to care about us looking good in front of the Capitol. He helps all of the tributes and tries to bring out the best side of them, twisting our words into something the public will accept. If I knew him better, I might even say he was kind.
The relief I feel once I'm out of the audience's view is instant. I slump against the wall, waiting for Haymitch to make his way over to this side while Sawyer has his interview.
"I would hate to be the one to follow that," a voice in my ear makes me jump. Hudson is leaning next to me, his arms crossed over his chest and a smirk on his face. "Although I don't think he's going to have any trouble winning them over. The public doth love a boy in love."
"It wasn't me," I protested. "It was the dress. All Cinna's work."
"Mmhm, sure." Hudson raises a brow. "They were enchanted by the girl behind the dress. Trust me, I think they would have a very different reaction if I was the one wearing it."
I can't help giggling at the image of tall, muscular Huson in this red sparkly dress. "Well, if anyone could pull it off, it would be you."
"You think?" Hudson strikes a pose and I have to clasp a hand over my mouth to stifle my laughter. It's only then that I realize he's just trying to make me feel better and that makes me like him a bit more. Once we;ve both calmed down, he speaks again.
"My cousin said something really interesting," Hudson comments. We're both watching Sawyer in his interview. Just like last time, he seems relaxed and has the audience eating out of the palm of his hand.
"Oh yeah?" I glance over at him but his attention is on the monitor.
He nods. "Apparently, some of the Capitolites, so to speak, are hoping you both make it out."
"Well that's ridiculous," I can't help scoffing at the notion. "Only one person wins the games." That's how it's always been and that's how it always will be.
"Perhaps," Hudson shrugs. "Just some quiet mumblings. But that's not the secret."
"And what's the secret?" I lean closer, curious.
"Ah, ah, ah," he chides me. "That's not how this works. A secret for a secret."
I glare at him. He was the one who started this whole thing in the first place. But fine. I don't really mind indulging in his stupid little game. "What do you want to know?"
Hudson leans in closer. "Is there anything real between you and loverboy?"
"No," I immediately answer, but Hudson raises a brow and makes me rethink my answer. "I…I don't know. But I don't want to know. It'll make it too hard" It's vague and not much of a response, but it's as truthful of an answer as I can give him.
One side of Hudson's mouth quirks up, seemingly satisfied. He takes a step back and leans against the wall behind me so his lips are right by my ear, making sure nobody else can hear us.
"Snow isn't very happy that people are starting to hope more than one tribute will make it out."
"Why?" I turn to face him. His green eyes seem brighter, more excited. "They must know that will never happen. And it's all just entertainment to them."
"Yes, to the Capitol," Hudson agrees. "But if they see it, then the districts must too, and you know what that might mean."
"No, I don't," I huff.
"Hope is the spark that will ignite a rebellion." Hudon's voice is a whisper now and I have to strain to hear him. "And you, my love, are the girl on fire."
"I don't know what you mean," I tell him. It's all cryptic and doesn't fit into anything I know about what's happening to us all right now.
Hudson smiles, almost sympathetically. "I know you don't, twelve. And like I said, it's all just Capitol whisperings. I'm sure it's nothing," he winks. And just like that, I feel like I can breathe again.
"Sawyer," Remus draws our attention back to the screen. Haymitch has now joined us and is paying close attention to the interview. "Wouldn't it be nice if you and your…shall we say, special someone, could win the games? Imagine! A Capitol wedding among victors!" The crowd absolutely loves the idea but I frown. What is Remus trying to pull? If what Hudon said is true, then there is no way President Snow approved that question.
Hudson elbows me, as if the question Remus just asked proves everything right. I shake my head, pushing him away from me.
"In a perfect world, that might be the case, Remus," Sawyer gives the audience a sad smile and I think I see one of them wiping a tear. "But I can only hope at least one of us will get some kind of happily ever after."
I turn away from the monitor, now uncomfortable by the whole situation. I just feel like I'm being played. By who, exactly, I'm not sure. But I didn't like it.
"What's wrong?" Hudson asks, studying my expression carefully.
I shake my head, not exactly sure but wanting to try to explain it to him. Even though Hudson puts on this persona in front of everyone, he seems to be the only one telling me some kind of truth. "I can't tell what's real anymore." It's all suddenly so overwhelming and I'm blinking faster to hold back the tears.
"Hey, it's okay," Hudson rubs my shoulder but when it's clear that I'm close to losing it, he pulls me in wrapping his arms around me. He ducks his head so nobody else can hear him. "We might all be trying to play the game but remember who the real enemy is. It's not each other. Now chin up, they're always watching." His warning that we're still under surveillance is like a splash of cold water and I furiously wipe my tears away as Hudson blocks me from possible eyes.
"You alright, sweetheart?" Haymitch's voice asks from behind the boy in front of me. Hudson raises his brow, silently asking if I need more time, but I nod, assuring him that I'm okay and he steps to the side.
"Fine, Haymitch," I tell my mentor just as Sawyer is walking off the stage to join us. Remus is wrapping up the show now, which means we can finally go back and at least try to get some sleep before we're thrown into the arena tomorrow.
"Hudson!" I look over and see Finnick Odair calling for his cousin and waving him over. His district partner must have already left with her mentor. One of the perks of having more than one victor from your district.
"Gotta run. See you tomorrow," Hudson smiles, as if it'll just be another day.
"Yeah," I roll my eyes, not sharing the same sentiment. "Thanks, Hudson." My thanks is genuine. I think under different circumstances, maybe we could have been good friends.
"What are you thanking him for?" Sawyer asks, looking curiously back and forth between us. There's still a little tightness in his expression but I brush it off.
"I was just having a hard time walking in these heels so Hudson helped me," I lie.
"I could have helped you," Sawyer mumbles, looking down at his shiny red shoes.
Haymitch chuckles, although I'm not sure what;s even remotely funny about the situation. "You were busy on stage, my boy. Now you both need to rest. Big big day tomorrow!" He mocks Effie's Capitol accent, drawing laughs from the both of us.
When we get back to our rooms, I try for what feels like hours to fall asleep but no matter what I try, it's no use. I look over at the clock and groan, seeing that it's only actually been about half an hour.
I slip on a pair of socks and sneak out into the kitchen. Maybe if I do something that brings me comfort, I'll be able to fall asleep easier. Soon, I have a lump of dough on the counter and I'm kneading it the way it's pretty much ingrained in me since my dad taught me. It was bittersweet, knowing that this could be the last time I ever have the chance to bake. But also getting to do this now made me feel like I was back in the bakery and my parents were here with me.
Soon enough, the smell of cinnamon and vanilla fills the whole room. I'm just putting the finishing touches on my confections when I sense someone else in the room.
"Couldn't sleep either?"
I look up to find Sawyer leaning against the counter across from me. I turn back to what I was doing, drizzling the icing in zig-zags across the pan.
"It's still early," I shrug, hoping he'll go away. It feels weird to have him in my space when I'm doing something so personal to me.
He nods but doesn't leave. It occurs to me that while it's my last day of freedom, it's his too. And while I might want to spend it alone, he might feel the opposite.
I sigh, pushing the pan towards him. "Want some?"
Sawyer's eyes light up and he looks down at my pan. "What is it?"
"They're cinnamon rolls. Like the ones I brought the day…" I trail off, referring to reaping day. "They're not as good as my dad's but I don't think they're terrible."
"They look great!" Sawyer's face reminds me of a kid in a candy store and I don't have the heart to push him away in this moment. He reminds me of Dani when I bring her back a treat from the Hob. Maybe he needs this more than I want to be alone.
"Take these to the living room?" I look through the cabinets for some plates.
"I have a better idea." Sawyer reaches over and grabs the pan, heading for the elevator. "Are you coming?"
"The elevator doesn't work after 10. And there's peacekeepers everywhere," I point out.
"The elevator doesn't go down after 10," Sawyer corrects. "And I know somewhere there aren't any peacekeepers."
My curiosity is stronger than my fear and I follow him into the elevator. He pushes the button marked roof and I feel the platform rise for a minute before stopping. The door opened, revealing the night sky lit up by the hundred buildings surrounding us.
"Perks of being on the top floor. Roof access," Sawyer tells me, stepping out. I follow him. He walks all the way to the far end, where the entire roof is surrounded by a short glass railing. He takes a seat on the small sofa and pats the seat next to him. I take it, grabbing one of the cinnamon rolls from the pan before gesturing for him to take one too.
I nod towards the railing. "How do they know we won't jump."
Sawyer snorts, wiping his hand against his pants. "They don't. But it'll be real painful if we do. Watch."
He picks up a small pebble on the ground that must have come from the small garden in the corner and tosses it towards the railing. I expect it to sail over the edge but a few inches past the glass, the pebble stops, and with a flash of light gets bounced back towards us, landing at our feet, glowing red and sizzling.
"What was that?" I squint harder, trying to spot some kind of difference but I can't see anything in the dark.
Sawyer shrugs. "Not sure, Must be some kind of force field. To keep us in."
I nod, standing up and walking over the glass.
"Careful," Sawyer warns. I raise a brow but turn away when I see the sincerity in his concern, leaning against the railing, watching the lights of the Capitol twinkling out in the distance. It's so bright, even at night. I wonder if the kids sleeping in those houses down there were excited to watch us in the games tomorrow. Would they talk about it with their friends at school? Root for their favorite tributes?
"What are you thinking about?" Sawyer comes up next to me. His arm brushes mine and it's warmer than I'm used to.
I look up at the eerily empty sky. "There's no stars."
"Huh?"
I tilt my head just enough that I can see him out of the corner of my eye. "The stars. You can't see them."
"There must be too much pollution. Or the lights are too dark. Their light would make the light from the stars and planets difficult to see."
I furrow my brows, wondering how he knows all of this. I think the question is obvious on my face.
Sawyer turns back to look at the lights, but I think he's blushing in the dark. "Mr. Gorem lent me one of his books. He knows I like to read."
"I didn't know that. Not many in the seam take time to study much."
"No need to," Sawyer chuckles. "We all just end up in the mines anyway."
That was true. There weren't any opportunities for those in the seam outside of the mine, although if you were lucky, you could find some kind of way to make a living in the Hob or something under the table. Heck, even some of the merchants would end up there if they were from a bigger family.
"Well," I bump his shoulder to get him to cheer up. We had too short to spend any of it thinking about a future that we would never have. "When you win, you can buy all the books in Panem."
Sawyer shakes his head. "Yeah, right. I don't stand a chance. Do you know what my dad said to me when they came to say goodbye? He said that district twelve might finally have another victor. And he wasn't talking about me. Mom was so mad at him."
I thought I knew Sawyer before the games, but now I'm thinking I didn't really know him at all. He was generally happy and kind to everyone, despite who they were, and didn't seem to have much of a spiteful bone in his body, but his tone now told me otherwise. I couldn't figure out what he wanted. If the boy I met in the woods all those weeks ago is the same one standing next to me now.
He continues. "The only thing I can do now is hope not to disgrace my family and…"
"And what?"
He rubs his temple. "I don't know how to explain it exactly. Just that, when I die, I want to die as myself. I don't want them to turn me into someone I'm not, like some kind of monster. Does that make any sense?"
"Not really." How would he become someone other than himself? I suddenly feel ashamed of myself. While I've been sitting here trying to make myself feel better and figure out the best way to win, at the cost of everyone else, I might add, he was contemplating how to maintain his identity. His purity of self. "Do you mean you won't kill anyone?"
He shakes his head. "No, I'm sure when the time comes, I'll kill just like the next person. I'm not stupid. I'm not going down without a fight. I just wish there was a way for me to show the Capitol they don't own me. That I'm more than just a piece in their Games."
I resist the urge to scoff. "But you're not. None of us are. That's the whole point of the Games. For the Capitol to show us that they control us."
"I guess, but even then, you're still you, and I'm still me. We're still people with lives and people who care about what happens to us," he insists. "Don't you get it?"
"I guess," I tell him, but it all seems futile in the face of imminent death. "But, no offense, Sawyer. Who cares?"
"I do!" He pushes himself off of the railing, pacing behind me, looking angry. It always seems to catch me off guard when he's like this, which isn't very often. But then again, I've only known him a short while. "Because if we don't have that, what else do we have? They've taken everything else. My life, my family, my future." He slumps back next to me, seemingly defeated. "What else is there left to care about?" His silver eyes lock on mine, hard with anger.
"Care about getting it back. Care about staying alive," I tell him. It's the only piece of advice I'm willing to part with.
Sawyer smiles at me, sad and mocking. The light in his eyes had dimmed. "Okay. Thanks for the tip, sweetheart."
He might as well have slapped me in the face. His use of Haymitch's patronizing endearment makes anger bubble inside me. "If you want to spend your last hours planning some kind of noble death in the arena, that's your choice. I'm spending mine in twelve."
"Wouldn't surprise me if you do," Sawyer says, turning his back to me. "Give my father my best, will you?"
"Count on it," I called over my shoulder, stomping back to the elevator to leave the roof.