One day after the 101st Hunger Games:

Mila Estedon, 16
Victor of the 101st Hunger Games

Amalthea frowns at me. "Dear, you need to eat. You must be starving!"

I shove the plate away from me. Amalthea pushes it back forward and I shake my head. "No. I'm not hungry."

"Come on," they huff. "You need to eat. We can't have you fainting on the stage tonight."

"I said, I'm not hungry."

"Mila-"

"Leave me alone!"

Amalthea is about to say something when Bennet suddenly enters the room and cuts them off. "Just drop it. You're not helping."

"Fine!" Amalthea struts out of the room, leaving me alone with Bennet. He pulls a chair out from the dining room and table and sits across from me. "We need to talk."

My stomach churns. I feel grateful I haven't eaten anything yet because I might throw it back up. "Am I in trouble?"

"No," Bennet says, but he sounds uncertain. "You didn't do anything wrong. However, you didn't do anything right either."

Oh.

"I don't understand," I admit. "I won. But I wasn't rebellious or anything, right?"

"No," Bennet says again. "But you're not anybody's first choice either. By the final eight, you ranked last in the popularity polls. People wanted the assholes from 11 and 12 to win over you."

Bennet's words are like daggers to my heart. I grab the hem of my dress so tightly, I worry I might tear it apart. "I don't understand. I had sponsors."

"Yeah, I don't get it either. They kept coming from someone who wanted to stay anonymous. That's probably your only fan." Bennet sighs. "You were up against three Careers. They fell apart. You won. You're not going to be punished for it, because this kind of stuff does happen. But you better knock it out of the park with your interview tonight. Prove that you deserved to win."

"Do you think I deserved to win?" I ask.

"I'm your mentor."

"Yeah, but…did you actually think I stood a chance at all? You didn't include yourself as my fan." I scowl. "I'm just an obligation, another kid you were seeing to my death. Did you ever think I had a shot?"

Bennet runs a hand through his hair. He looks so much older than thirty-two. He looks like he's aged a million years. The wrinkles under his eyes and the strands of light gray woven in his dark hair all seem to stand out more than ever.

Then he starts laughing.

"You know, you remind me so much of myself when I was your age."

I don't get it. "What do you mean? I've seen your Games. You tortured your district partner."

"Did you watch my Games, or did you just watch what everyone wanted you to watch?" Bennet leans in. "I know I'm not the nicest person around. I make ol' Athos look like a saint. But don't think I haven't forgotten what you said to me on the train. That you didn't want me to think I was alone. You know, you're the only tribute in my fourteen years of mentoring who's ever said that to me."

"I'm sorry to hear that."

"Don't worry about it." Bennet waves a hand dismissively. "It's not like it was your fault or anything. It wasn't like I was rooting against you. But people like us…we're not meant to be winners."

I nod solemnly.

"I saw myself in you. That same scared kid who had the world against him and a heck of a whole lot to prove. Who could count on one hand the number of people who wanted him to win. But just like me, you simply didn't die. You kept going and going. Past the Careers, past the frontrunners, straight to the end."

"But I wasn't supposed to," I say.

"But you weren't supposed to," Bennet echoes. "I had so many people tell me that you and Vick were cannon fodder. Except this one mystery sponsor that just started randomly sending us money. We have no idea who they are. Regardless, kids from our district have never been the favourites to win. So when we beat out the ones that are, people tend to get pissed off."

"So what should I do?" I ask.

Bennet places a hand on my shoulder. "You give it one hundred percent on your interview and make everyone love you. Keep your game face on, say what everyone wants to hear. Just be a good little Victor. They're not gonna expect a lot from you, but they're not gonna tear their eyes off you either."

Great.

"Talk about safe topics. Your allies. Your girlfriend. Drive up that love story, people eat that shit up like leftovers. Act like this is the greatest thing to ever happen to you. Be the underdog; people love a good comeback story. Don't say anything rebellious, not that I think you will, and most importantly…"

Bennet is now looking me straight in the eye. "Never, ever, let them know you're scared."

Standing in front of a floor-length mirror, clad in a brand new dress, I no longer feel like myself. I have no idea what I looked like when they took me out of the arena, but surely I couldn't have been this pretty. 12 days without a shower does that to someone.

But my stylist and prep team have cleaned me up quite nicely. I wear a floor-length pale yellow dress that hugs my waist and is covered in intricate gold leaf designs and tassels running down the side. The thick straps sit right on my shoulders, where some feathers sprout. Underneath are silver heels and matching bangles on my wrists. My hair has been pulled into a simple braid and my new glasses have purple rims. I don't have pierced ears, so my stylist gave me a pair of clip-ons in the shape of a crescent moon.

I have no idea who this girl is, but I know for a fact that she isn't me. Except I have to pretend she is. The Capitol doesn't want to see Mila Estedon. They want to see a Victor.

I guess that's what I have to give them.

I wipe my sweaty hands on my dress. It'll be showtime soon. I hear Gregor riling up the crowd. He's not an ally, but he's an asset. Just go with the flow, I think to myself. You know what to do and what not to do.

"And here she is! Put your hands together for the Victor of the 101st Hunger Games: Mila Estedon!"

I saunter onto the stage as confidently as I can, plastering a big smile on my face. The crowd whoops and hollers; the noise is almost deafening. I sink into the chair across from Gregor and grip it tightly.

Gregor swoons. "Well, what do we have here!" Don't you look amazing."

Keep smiling, just keep smiling. "Thank you, Gregor. I feel amazing!"

The crowd bursts into laughter. This is good. I can keep doing this. Only three and a half more hours to go.

Answering questions isn't too hard. Gregor first asks me about Loire and I don't have to force my emotions. "I miss her a lot. She was such a dynamic and fun person to be around and really helped to draw me out of my shell. I wish I could be as selfless as her."

"Isn't that sweet," Gregor smiles. "As for Hunter? You two also made a really interesting team."

"Hunter's a pretty interesting guy! I wish I got to know more about him though, because he seemed so secretive. But I could tell he also cared a lot too. Especially when it came to Ascella. Ey seemed like such a ray of sunshine and it hurts to know I only got to be around em long enough to watch em die."

I hear some faint sniffles emit from the audience. Even Gregor suddenly looks saddened. "Yes, rankings have shown that Ascella Fuhari's death was voted the most heart wrenching event of the 101st Hunger Games by Capitol viewers. What a dramatic and tearjerking turns of events! You should consider yourself lucky to be part of something so spectacular."

My jaw drops at that. Gregor smiles in a way that seems to attempt to be comforting, but I can barely focus on him. The idea of people voting on who had the saddest death just seems…I don't even know…it just seems wrong somehow? I was genuinely torn up when I sat in that escape pod. I had gone through one of the worst days of my life.

But nobody cares about that. All that matters was that it looked so good on TV.

I realize I'm starting to dissociate and quickly tune it as Gregor keeps speaking. "...more when we watch the recap. But soon, Mila will have to go home to District 3! Are you excited for that?"

Home. Something that sounds so desired, yet so foreign. I haven't been home in almost three weeks. It's not a lot of time in the grand scheme of things, but it's enough time for life to change. For me to change.

But then I think of Gadge and how much I love her. How scared I was to lose her.

And I realize I do want to go home.

"Yes," I say. "I am."

I don't sleep well that night. It's a mixture of factors. Nightmares, fear that I'm not safe like I thought I was, that the Games aren't actually over and I'm still in the arena. All I want is to get out of the Capitol.

I find myself lying on a couch as my train speeds through Panem, clutching one of the pillows to my chest. Bennet just watches me, pretending to be more interested in drinking his coffee. I watch the world whizz by. My stomach hurts. I think I might throw up.

Only a few more hours until home.

I feel exhausted but I can't sleep. I also couldn't eat much for breakfast, only managing a small croissant, something that Amalthea isn't impressed about. I haven't been this terrified since the start of the Games, although the scares never truly went away. The arena made sure of that.

I wonder if I'll ever stop feeling this way again or if I'm just doomed to a life of lingering fear.

Will I end up becoming like Bennet? Turning all jaded and bitter. Resenting the world at large because life is just so unfair and merciless. Taking in only the people who I feel actually care for me and shutting everyone else out, fostering a reputation for myself as a heartless bastard. Giving up when mentoring becomes too difficult because I didn't succeed before, and therefore I never will again.

But I don't want to be another Bennet. I want to be me: Mila Estedon.

The train comes to a halt. We're here. I slowly peel myself from the couch and put down the pillow. I can see from here that there's a lot of people standing outside the windows. It frightens me because as of late, every time I've seen a crowd I was either being herded off to my potential death or pretending I was happy about it.

I don't want to deal with a crowd. I just want to disappear.

Bennet motions for him to follow him. He's right; I can't just hide in the train forever. The sooner I leave, the sooner I can go home and take a nap.

I step outside.

The first person I see is Gadge.

"Mila!" she cries out and suddenly, nothing else in the world matters except her. I run towards her as fast as I can. Mila opens her arms and I throw myself into them. We squeeze each other into the tightest hugs we can imagine and I let myself cry. I've missed her, I've missed her so much.

Once upon a time, I thought I might never see her again.

Finally, I have to pull back and stare into Gadge's shimmering eyes as she cups my face in her hands. "I missed you."

"I missed you too," I say, struggling to be heard over the cheers of practically my entire district. It all sounds much more real than anything in the Capitol ever was. Gadge presses a kiss to my forehead as I grip her shoulders like a lifeline. I don't ever want to let her go.

"Mila."

Someone is calling my name. I briefly step away from Gadge and find myself locking eyes with my family. My parents. Tara. I realize that they've never actually met Gadge before and now things are suddenly very awkward.

"Um, hey everyone. This is my girlfriend, Gadge."

Gadge manages a small wave. "Pleased to meet you all."

"I know who you are," Tara mutters with surprising venom and my mom's eyes crinkle in an emotion I don't understand. You've got to be kidding me. I just got back from the Hunger Games and this is the first thing my own sister says to me?

You know what, fuck that. I'm not about to let them drag the love of my life through the mud again. I step forward, blocking Tara's view of Gadge.

"Okay, that is enough. I've dealt with this for too long, and I thought that watching your own sister almost die several times would soften your heart at least a little bit. Clearly I was wrong."

"Mila!' Dad exclaims. "How dare you talk to Tara like that! Apologize now!"

"No! I will not apologize for putting a sock in the way she treats my girlfriend!" I straighten up and fold my arms for emphasis. "And I will not be dealing with it anymore."

Tara's hands ball into fists. I interrupt her before she can say anything.

"So I'm giving you two options. One, you acknowledge the fact that I am bi, that Gadge is a trans girl, and that we are in love. You don't have to immediately be her friend, but you've got to stop calling us slurs, insults, and actually make an effort to use the correct pronouns."

My heart pounds. I continue anyway.

"Or two…that's it." I glance up at my parents. "Same goes for you too. I don't know how you can just sit there and watch your own daughter be berated and belittled by someone who's supposed to love her. No playing the neutral party. This isn't an issue you can pretend to be neutral on."

My family looks shocked. My mother has pressed one hand to her mouth, the other one grabbing tightly onto my dad's arm. With the way his eyebrows have furrowed, I can tell that it's the kind of disappointment that would bring on a scolding if we weren't in public. After all, I'm not supposed to act this way. I was supposed to be the irrationally emotional twin.

But that girl is long gone.

Eyes have fallen upon me, but I can't shrink under their gaze. I have to remain strong and stand my ground. I've done my part and laid the terms out.

The silence of my parents and my sister speaks volumes.

"You don't have to pick an option right away," I finally say. "Maybe we'll try this another time. Come on, Gadge. Let's get out of here."

She takes my hand in hers and we get into the car that Bennet is waiting for us next to, prepared to drive to our new home and new lives in Victor's Village.

First post-Games chapter! We get to see how Mila is dealing with all the bells and whistles that come with being a Victor.

We have two more chapters until this story is complete, so I'll see you when they come out!

-Vr