III. Of Reverence and Rage
I'm stronger than I ever knew
I'm strong because of you
I hit back a little louder
Fuck you a little harder
My roots, my roots run deep into the hollow
Cw. strong themes of mental instability & self-hatred.
She's not sure how long it lasts for or when it even started, but it's quiet.
Though she tries to move them, her limbs remain perfectly still. She can just barely open her eyes, but it wouldn't matter if she could — all she'd see is white. It's not much different from the black she sees when her eyes are shut. No matter the color that paints her vision, it's ultimately nothing.
"You're nothing!" her own voice plays inside her head like a broken record. "You're nothing, you're nothing, you're nothing."
She's lying flat on the ground, watching Verdigris Ahane-Voclain hold a vial of poison. They unscrew the lid, droplets of a clear substance falling down.
But when it hits her skin, it's nothing.
She has no idea who but somebody says, "I think she's waking up!"
"Is she?" another unfamiliar voice calls.
And then the sound of footsteps, louder and louder.
A third voice. "She is…"
She forces her eyes open as if that'll make anything more clear — it doesn't. She doesn't know these people, doesn't know why they're staring at her like she's a specimen in a lab, doesn't know anything.
"Yeah, she's up."
"About damn time."
"Do you think she's conscious?"
"No idea — ask her a question!"
"Um… what's your name?"
That's the only thing she knows. "Hedy Lovelace."
She has a million questions but none of the answers they give her are sufficient.
"How long was I out for?"
"I lost count after a week."
"How did it end?"
"You'll see during the recap in just a few days!"
"What happens after that?"
"Be patient, please."
They yank the tubes from her nose yet every breath she takes feels fake. For all Hedy knows, nothing that's happening is real in the slightest. She's fast asleep and stuck in a vivid dream, one that seems to never end. When she wakes up, she's sure it'll be in hell.
But, she never does. Doctors crowd into the room to take her vital signs, proof that she's alive that she chooses to ignore. She can't do that forever, though. With every passing second, Hedy gains more and more control of her body. Even if it doesn't feel like it's hers, she knows that it is. She's still here.
She finally gathers the strength to ask one of the doctors "Where are my mentors?" but immediately wishes she didn't.
"Beetee and Wiress went back to Three. They seemed a bit afraid to see you…"
Oh.
Hedy wishes she didn't understand why. She wishes she wouldn't be scared of herself too.
"Are they coming back?"
"For the recap? Definitely not. You'll see them when you're home."
That word doesn't have any meaning for her, not that it ever did. She's not sure it ever will, either.
Monae's probably downright horrified by her now and it's not like she has any friends that'd want to see her. The closest thing to a friend Hedy's had in the past eight years was Verdigris, and calling them that sounds like a cruel joke.
Hedy hated them. They were too… familiar. They treated her like somebody they'd known all their life and she did the same to them. Because ultimately, they were the same, cut from the same cloth of misery and abuse. But Verdigris tore the cloth to shreds while Hedy wore it like a cape yet she's the one who's still here. Verdigris died hating her so now Hedy'll live hating herself.
She knows exactly what she did and where things went wrong, and there's nothing she can do to change the past. Even if she could, Hedy would do the same thing all over again. Because it led her here, still alive even if she's nearly drowning in a pool of her own sorrows. Even if she doesn't deserve it, life is better than death.
"I'll see them when I'm home," Hedy repeats the doctor's words.
She's almost a hundred percent sure that she never will.
There's little that could've prepared her for this. She knows that people are cheering her name but it sounds like white noise. She sees their faces but they don't look real.
Nothing is. The red and white dress her stylist put her in, Caesar Flickerman sitting in front of her with an eager grin, the rolled-down screen with a picture of her face on it – not real. If there's anything that is real, it's herself. Hedy hates that.
"Well, I shouldn't hesitate any longer," Caesar croons, pointing at the screen. "What do you say we all get to watching your incredible journey?"
It's funny, almost. Hedy was so talkative the last time she was in this chair. She wore a smile on her face as she told Caesar and Panem as a whole what'd happened to her father. If only Hedy knew that he'd be the one sitting this time.
(If she did, that wouldn't change anything. She'd still have fought, still have killed, still have done whatever it took to get out of there alive. Even if she had a warning that she'd turn into the man who broke her to her very core, Hedy wouldn't rest until she was free.)
(If she had a warning that she never truly could be free, things would have been different.)
"Sure," she says with a nod. There's the option of telling Caesar no, but that won't get her very far. Besides, the people around her love her. Despite how little she's said, they're cheering.
No. Hedy corrects herself. They love this version of you.
But isn't this version supposed to be the real Hedy Lovelace? It's the one who lived on after the old one died at some point in time she'll never be able to place. There's no way for her to know.
"Wonderful to hear!" Caesar gives the audience a wink and then presses a button on his remote control. "Alright Panem, let's dive back into the most explosive Games in Panem's history!"
Explosive. That seems like an appropriate word yet Hedy doesn't know if she's the bomb or the thing it destroyed.
The Games start rolling on-screen before she can debate further. There's little that could've prepared her for this.
She's in the caves with Verdigris as a camera pans to a young child. Eight. Hedy never even got her name. Would it even matter if she did? The girl would still be dead and Hedy would still be forced to watch it happen.
Her stomach falls into a pit when Verdigris points the gun at her. She digs her nails into the side of the chair, closing her eyes and bracing for impact. Maybe she really is dead. Maybe the gun had a second bullet and everything Hedy's felt since has been a twisted dream.
It isn't.
As she watches herself struggle with Verdigris, she might as well be watching two versions of herself. One is telling her that she still has a chance whilst the other says she's a hopeless cause. She wishes so badly that the first one would overpower all her ugly parts but it doesn't. So, she's alone in all her misery, doomed to die with her depravity.
She thought Judas' face would at least bring her some odd form of comfort but it doesn't because why would it. So what if he was just as rotten as she was? At least he didn't–
Hedy doesn't want to think about that part now.
She doesn't want to think about when the doves drill through Judas' skull, but she has no choice. She doesn't want to think about the look of satisfaction on her face when she rips off a small one's head, but she has no choice. She doesn't want to think about just how terrified she was when one of the Sixes grabbed her by the feet, but she has no choice.
Hedy especially doesn't want to think about this next part. She has no choice.
The boy from Six is laughing as she dangles a knife over his stomach. He's laughing as Hedy wedges it inside her flesh and carves out a chunk. He's laughing as… As…
It's so much worse than she remembered. He eventually stops laughing.
But that doesn't stop Hedy from – no, that can't be me – pricking at his skin like he's a balloon, his blood splattering all over the room and raining down on her face.
The audience applauds once his cannon fires – it is me, isn't it? She doesn't want to be that person anymore. She's done being feared, done lying sick in a pile of her own misdeeds.
Yet that's the person they're celebrating. Why are they celebrating something Hedy wishes she never was?
Their cheering only gets louder when it's just her and Verdigris left. She's shouting like a madwoman, convinced each time she says "nothing" will be her last, but it never is. Instead, she climbs on top of Verdigris, her entire body ravaged, and begins clawing at their eyes. It's like she didn't want anybody to see her like this anymore. It's like she forgot everybody would be seeing her like this.
And these people love it.
They love when she pries back Verdigris jaw and shoves her hand down their throat. They love when she tears out their voice box from the inside. They love when she refuses to stop long after their cannon fires. And they love it most when she finally falls over in relief, bloodied and bruised.
The projector shuts off and they rise to their feet. They shout her name even louder, "Hedy! Hedy! Hedy!"
But this time she hears, "Nothing! Nothing! Nothing!"
She's come to the conclusion that there's no place she hates more than here.
In Three, Hedy had stability. As miserable as she was, there weren't any surprises. In the Arena, Hedy had freedom. As vicious as she was, she was still the one who controlled her madness. Here, anything besides instability and restriction is impossible.
In Three and in the Arena, Hedy was feared. People knew to stay away from her because they didn't like her – something she can't blame them for. Here, people love her. They saw all of her worst parts, the ones Hedy hates most about herself, and they consider them her best ones.
As she stands in a corridor, somebody new walking up to her and demanding she pose for photographs and sign their belongings, Hedy can't help but think she doesn't deserve it. She doesn't deserve the flashing lights and adoration. She deserves to be locked up with a muzzle on her mouth and her hands tied together. But, this is what she gets.
"Hello, Miss Lovelace!" A young girl with a bright red wig approaches her.
Hedy fakes a smile. "That's me."
The girl doesn't even ask before wrapping her arms around Hedy, she just does. Why anybody would want to touch her after everything she's done is beyond her. The photographer asks, "Are you ready to take your photo?"
"Not yet," the girl says, letting Hedy go – thank the lord for that. "Miss Lovelace, I was wondering if you can sign something for me."
"I can, yes." She didn't bother to put the cap back on the permanent marker after signing a picture of her face for the last guest. Everybody here wants her signature on something. One man said something about collecting autographs from all the victors and selling them to other enthusiasts.
Hedy fears the man's going to sell her autograph too. She's probably unwanted by him, the same way she's unwanted by everybody else – her father, Monet, District Three, her own fucking mentors, herself. At the same time, being wanted by somebody because of all her atrocities isn't exactly something to celebrate.
"Sign this, then!" The girl reaches into her purse and pulls out a doll.
It takes Hedy a few seconds to recognize what it's supposed to be, but the moment she does, she wishes she hadn't. Short blonde hair, a bloodied white shirt, a gaping hole near the throat and gouged-out eyes – holy shit.
"Why are you staring off into space?" She playfully slaps Hedy. "Please, please, please, just sign this! All of my friends at school are going to be so insanely jealous."
"It's Verdigris…" Hedy mumbles.
"Sure is!" The girl shoves the doll in her face. "It was so cool when you tackled Verdigris to the ground and then you ripped out her eyes!"
"Their eyes," she corrects the kid, but she's not sure why she does. Showing them any kindness isn't going to redeem Hedy in their mind. Verdigris has every right to hate Hedy eternally from whatever better place they're in.
"Okay, whatever… can you pleaaaaseee sign it?"
Gently, Hedy lifts the doll out of the girl's hands. She pulls their cloth pants straight and signs her name – it's become muscle memory at this point.
"Thank you so much!" The girl beams when she hands the doll back. Without even giving Hedy a second to catch her breath, she barks out another demand. "Now let's take a picture."
"Alright. We can do that."
The girl tugs on Hedy's arms. "I have the perfect idea for a pose too!" She grabs both Hedy's wrists and squeezes them close together. It's almost like she's more of a doll than the one she just signed.
"We're going to stand back to back and you're going to do this with your hands, okay?" The girl demonstrates on her own hands. She extends her index fingers and squeezes the others together. "It's like a gun! Because remember when, in the arena when you–"
"I remember," Hedy cuts her off. Ever since she saw that moment on screen, it's been replaying in her mind over and over.
With a quiet sigh, Hedy does the pose the girl wants and faces the side. Not complying will just make her even more miserable. The camera lights flash thrice, and then she drops her hands.
She turns around to see the girl smiling harder than Hedy's ever seen somebody smile. "Thank you so much, Miss Lovelace."
"It's no problem." Before the girl can leave the photo area, Hedy grabs her by the wrist. "Just out of curiosity, how old are you?"
"I'm almost seven!"
Ah, six. The last age where Hedy was happy. Her mother was still alive and she radiated joy with every step she took. She didn't have to worry about getting beat up when she got home from school, she was free to just enjoy her life for what it's worth.
(When she got sick again and died, Hugo said it was because her kindness made her weak. He told Hedy that if she resembled those traits of her mother, she'd amount to nothing.
She wishes she didn't listen to him.)
"That's a lovely age," she replies to the girl.
"Right?" Her eyes light up. "That's just ten more years until I'm your age! Oh, Miss Lovelace, I want to be just like you when I grow up."
Why would anybody ever say that? The world deserves good people, not Hedy Lovelace. She's a curse to humanity, a disease that should be contained and kept away from everybody. Maybe what Verdigris had in that vile was actually poisonous and Hedy's own toxicity was strong enough to render her immune.
"Maybe that's not the best idea," Hedy mutters.
The girl shakes her head vigorously. "Nope – it's a great idea!"
She then runs away before Hedy can say anything else.
There's at least twelve renditions of that exact interaction before the autograph line shuts down.
She knows she'll get in trouble for this but she's beyond the point of caring.
It's been three days since her coronation yet she's still not allowed out of here. The first day was flooded with interviews from various Capitol news networks which were obviously painful, but she hasn't done anything of great significance both today and yesterday.
When she asked a doctor when she'd be going to Three, he didn't have an answer for her. Hedy's starting to think she'll never leave. She'll be forever stuck in a spider-web of sadness and the harder she tries to escape, the more stuck she'll be.
Despite all the proof she was shown a few days ago, she still refuses to believe the girl she saw on screen was herself. That girl had fire in her eyes, that girl wanted something and didn't care how badly she broke herself to get it. When Hedy looks in the mirror now, her entire face is lifeless. Her body is undamaged and unscared.
She doesn't know what version of herself she really is. Neither feel real. They definitely don't feel like her.
(Then again, does Hedy really even know who she is? Will she ever learn?
She knows the answer to both questions is "no.")
She can't stay here forever. At the same time, where is she supposed to go if Three probably doesn't want her back.
Just like how she was when she was twelve years out and horrified, Hedy Lovelace's stuck. Just like how she was when she was twelve years old and horrified, she'll fight as hard as she can until she's free.
She looks at the watercolor painting of her displayed on the wall and doesn't think twice before tearing it down. With a primal scream, she sticks the paper between her teeth and tears it into halves, quarters, eighths, shreds. A mix of saliva and tears smudges the paint, but she doesn't care.
Hedy doesn't care about anything. It's not like she has anything left to care about. She already stripped herself of her dignity on national television. Things can't get worse than that.
She tears through the seams of a couch pillow and lets the stuffing pour out on the floor then grabs one of the kitchen chairs and pushes against the headboard until it snaps and hits the ground. Hedy's not sure what she's doing or why she's doing it but she keeps finding things to break and screaming through her tears as they do.
Is this what freedom feels like? Hedy's not so sure. But, she knows it's better than sitting around and feeling terrible.
(Is madness like this the reason Capitolites love her?)
She's too busy bending a metal fork in half to notice the door swing open at first. When she recognizes the white suits of Peacekeepers, she lets the utensil drop to the ground with a resonant clang!
"Is everything alright in here?" One of them asks her, his mask removed as he examines the room. "We heard screaming – are you okay?"
Hedy doesn't respond. Does it fucking look like she's okay? If she said she wasn't okay, what would they even do besides keep her stuck here for even longer?
She doesn't want to be stuck anymore. She wants to be free.
When Verdigris and the other twenty-two Tributes died, they were set free. They don't have to suffer the way Hedy does. Maybe this is selfish, but she's been selfish her whole life according to her father. She doesn't want to suffer anymore. She wants to be free.
So, she dashes toward one of the officers and clings onto the gun by his side.
"Miss Lovelace! What are you doing?"
She tries to pry it off him, one hand wrapped firmly around the trigger. Her heart is beating louder and louder yet she's excited. That's something she hasn't felt in a while…
Despite a Peacekeeper trying to pry her off of it, Hedy presses the barrel of the gun to her head and takes a deep breath.
She doesn't remember pulling the trigger. There's a sharp, stinging sensation in her arm, and then there's black.
The hospital ceiling is just about the last thing she wants to see.
At least this time, Hedy doesn't think she was out for too long. Still, everthings a blur and the tubes covering her eyes hardly help. She tries to get out of her bed and investigate, but she quickly realizes that's impossible. The thick metal shoes connecting her feet to the bedframe don't feel like they can be manually loosened.
"Oh, you're awake," Hedy hears an unfamiliar voice say. Right away, she knows it's not a doctor or another Capitolite – the voice sounds too gentle. "That was a long two hours."
Out of the corner of her eye, she watches a boy with pale skin and shoulder length hair, and a metal arm approach her. He looks familiar, but she doesn't remember where she saw him.
The boy sits down at the metal chair right by her bed. "Hello there."
If he's just another person that wants to congratulate her for being awful, he'd better leave. Even if the concerned expression on his face looks more genuine than anything Hedy's recently seen, she doesn't trust him.
"I came to talk to you a bit, if that's alright," he continues. "I was told that I'm probably the best person for you to wake up to. Considering you're not yelling at me, I think that was a good call."
"I'd yell if I could," Hedy says, trying to push through the rawness in her throat. "Maybe."
"You'd just yell at me without me saying a single word? C'mon Hedy, that's a bit cold."
"So what?" She doesn't even know this guy's name and she already hates him.
"Look, you don't need to be so abrasive with me," he calmly says. "I'm not like a freak from the Capitol or anything."
"Then who are you?" And why did people in the Capitol think he'd be the best person to talk to her.
The boy's eyes light up. "The name's Ludovicus, but you can call me Ludo. I'm from District Two."
"Hi." Hedy says tentatively. "I'm…"
She can't bring herself to say her name. She doesn't need to either. He knows who she is. Everybody knows who she is. And if he's here, he loves who she is. Everyone who left – Beetee and Wiress and the rest of the lot – hates her. They're afraid of her. She's afraid of herself too.
"You're Hedy," Ludovicus finishes her sentence. "You won the Hunger Games this year, and I won them last year."
"Oh." So that's where she recognizes him from. "Congratulations."
"You don't need to congratulate me," he says. "I know that's probably the last thing you'd want to hear from me."
"It is."
"That's why I didn't say it, not very helpful."
"Thank you for not congratulating me then." She has no idea what the point of this conversation even is, just that she wants out of it. "Are you just here to pretend you give a fuck about me until I seem mentally stable enough to go back to interviews and meet and greets with people who love me for being an objectively horrible person?"
"It sounds a lot worse when you put it like that," Ludovicus notes.
Hedy sighs — it's a good thing she didn't get her hopes up.
"I'm also here to be a friend," he continues. "I know our experiences in the Games were a bit different, but it's still nice when us victors band together."
"So we can all have a pity party and hate ourselves?"
"You're making it sound like a bad thing. I'm trying to say that we've forged a bit of a community and you're more than welcome to join us. I think it'd be good for you!"
"How do you know what's good for me?" Hedy gnashes her teeth and sneers at him. "You don't even know me."
"But I know what you did and that it'll eventually get a bit better," Ludovicus says. "My Games were awful, trust me. Sometimes I'm still haunted by everything that happened. But I'm stronger than I was a year ago, and that's got to be worth something."
She sighs. There's no reason for her to trust this Ludovicus character, not when he's in the place where Hedy lost herself. But at the same time, is there a place where Hedy truly can be found?
"Why aren't you in District Two?" She asks. "Surely the people there actually want you."
He sighs. "I honestly try to avoid it. You know how the Games sort of change people's perceptions of you both here in the Capitol at home."
She nods.
"Well, people at Two think that I killed my best friend."
"Did you?"
"I'd never! But that doesn't matter at the moment. Even if the people here love me for something fake, at least they love me. It gets to a point, Hedy, where it's better to be loved than hated even if nobody knows who you really are."
Ludovicus makes a decent point. It'd be better though if Hedy actually loved herself, which she'll never do for the rest of her life. Even if Ludovicus was bad in his Games, there's no way he did anything worse than her. If he did, he was at least prepared for it since people in Two train.
It's difficult. People in Three don't want her back but people here love her for all the reasons she hates herself.
Everything in the world has to be difficult though. That's the price Hedy pays for turning into somebody far worse than her father.
She moves some of the tubes covering her face so she can look Ludovicus better in the eyes. His smile is genuine and bright, not what she was expecting. If she was to give anybody a chance, it'd probably be him. He's definitely better than the Gamemakers that enabled her to become this mess and the Peacekeepers that trapped her here. He's better than Beetee and Wiress who left because they were afraid, not that Hedy can blame them.
"Do you know who you are?" she asks him.
"I'm not sure," Ludovicus whispers. "But I know that I won't figure it out if I completely isolate myself. I think the same could be said for you."
"You're right," Hedy whispers, so soft that the boy can't hear her, and then she drifts off to sleep once more.
She's back in Three for the first time in Six months and she's terrified. Even if they're letting her stay in the Capitol for as long as she wants, she still has to come back here for her Victory Tour.
Hedy wasn't expecting a warm welcome, and she didn't get one either. Instead, people hissed at her on the streets and mocked her, saying "thanks for the monthly parcels" between bouts of laughter. If it weren't for the five armed Peacekeepers that stand by her side wherever she goes, somebody probably would've tried to hurt her by now.
At least she only has to be here for a day, even if it's shaping up to be a long one. First on the agenda is visiting Beetee and Wiress in the Victors Village. They claim to want to see her, though Hedy can't imagine why. Next is visiting Monae, who now lives next to them in the house that would be Hedy's if she were to fully return.
Her caretaker definitely deserves that luxury, even if Hedy's never expressed a lick of kindness towards her. She knows though that she was a handful to take care of for all those years. It'd make more sense if Monae were to live back in the Lovelace Manor, but Three's government seized the property and turned it into a haunted house about Hedy's life. She's chosen not to visit that – she doesn't need those memories coming back.
Last is giving a speech for the whole District who, of course, hates her. She, of course, cannot even blame them. Even if Ludo has been instilling more optimism in her as of late, Hedy knows that this day will be one of the worst in her life. But, if she gets through today, and then the rest of this tour, she'll be able to stay in the Capitol so long as she pleases. She was told Beetee and Wiress wanted to relieve her of her mentor duties, thankfully.
Yet that doesn't mean they don't want to see her.
One of the Peacekeepers knock on Beetee's door while Hedy takes deep breaths. They're supposed to calm her down, Ludo said so, but today they're not doing shit. Serves her right.
When Beetee answers the door and makes eye contact with Hedy, his expression is surprisingly dull. He's definitely not excited to see her, but he doesn't seem completely displeased. Wiress, now beside him, looks equally indifferent.
There's at least three minutes of complete silence before Hedy cuts it with a knife. "Um… hello?"
"Hello." Beetee talks but Wiress simply waves. "You look… well. Why don't you come inside?"
He leads her into the house, through a gorgeous foyer with a crystalline chandelier and gold accents, past a kitchen with black marble countertops and mahogany wooden doors, and into a secluded living room with two matching navy couches atop a rug laced with white and gold. The walls are decorated with framed pictures of Beetee and various works of science along with metals and academic diplomas. She never thought she'd see a house nicer than the Lovelace Manor, but this certainly comes close.
Once upon a time, this could've been Hedy's. She could've turned eighteen and had a house all to herself and fill every room with accolades of her many achievements. She could've gone to university and created the same kinds of things as Beetee and be loved instead of hated.
(Technically she still could. What's surely an exact replica of this house has her name on it, and she still has the intellect to get into any university she so pleases. But she knows that she's not welcome here, so all those dreams are for nought.)
"You have a lovely place," Hedy says, sitting down on one of the sofas. Her guards line up behind her. Though they remove their helmets, they're still straightfaced.
"Thank you." Beetee nods his head then tentatively sits on the opposite couch. He gestures to Wiress and has her sit by his side, though she looks incredibly nervous.
Again, silence. Again, Hedy has to be the one to break it.
"Why did you invite me over?"
Beetee sighs. "I hear you're liking the Capitol so you probably won't be in Three much. I have no idea when you'll next be here so I wanted to sit down and talk to you."
"I'm sorry we left you while you were passed out after the Games," Wiress adds, though she doesn't sound at all apologetic. "We had urgent matters back here that needed attending to."
"Don't lie to her. It won't do you any good," Beetee says. "Look, Hedy, you fucked up real bad. In fact, I can't think of a victor in recent history that isn't a Career who acted like you did in that arena."
"You think I don't know that?" She sneers. Deep breaths Hedy. Take deep breaths. In and out, one and two. "I don't know what you want me to say."
"People don't like you." Really? That's so helpful. "A lot of the time, Beetee and I don't like you either."
Hedy furrows her brows. "Then why am I here?"
"You're still our mentee so Wiress and I need to see you, even if it's for the last time."
"Sounds like a bunch of bullshit to me. If you're going to degrade me, I promise I've said way worse things about myself."
It's true. Hedy wound up in the hospital three more times with a pit of self-hatred stuck in her stomach. Whatever they say, she's heard it.
"We're just making sure you know that your actions are unacceptable," Wiress says. "I hear you've become quite a hit with the Capitolites."
She remembers what Ludo said – it's better to be loved than hated even if nobody knows who you really are. Wiress and Beetee hardly know who she is. Hedy skipped most of her mentoring sessions anyway because she already knew what she was doing. They warned her that she was dooming herself by refusing to listen to them but she won, so they were wrong.
(She's still incredibly doomed in many different ways. Most are worse than death if she's being completely honest.)
(But Hedy doesn't deserve death. She doesn't deserve that peace.)
"I have, yes. I know what I've done and that it was wrong. But it already happened so there's no use making myself sick over it." As if that's not exactly what Hedy's done for the past six months. "At least in the Capitol, the only person reminding me I'm a horrible person is myself."
She pulls herself off the couch and tries to get closer to Wiress and Beetee, unsure what her intention is in this, but two of the Peacekeepers pull her back down. Hedy groans.
"Miss Lovelace," one of them says. "We can leave if you'd like, but please do not get physical with them. You won't like the consequences."
"We can leave then."
She doesn't even wave goodbye to her "Mentors." They're not worth her time, much like everybody else in this District.
Yet Hedy's still stuck here, now on her way to greet somebody who likely hates her even more than those two.
She decides she'll be softer this time, more apologetic. Thankfully, Monae isn't as downcast as Beetee and Wiress when she opens the door.
"Miss Lovelace," she says. "It's been so long since I last saw you."
And then she invites Hedy through the door and it's like deja vu of her time at Beetee's house but the place feels way colder, not as well lived in.
Again, she sits on the couch and the Peacekeepers stand behind her, though this time one has his arm firmly around her shoulder.
There's no silence this time, so Hedy jumps the gun and says, "I'm so sorry. For how I treated you and then everything you saw me do. I'm so so sorry."
She hopes that she sounds genuine because it's been so long since Hedy actually apologized for something and meant it. She means it now, even if the one person she really should be apologizing to is herself.
"I understand," Monae responds. Her hands are placed delicately in her lap and she seems perfectly calm. "It would be wrong for me to forgive you, Miss. Your apology isn't mine to accept."
"I know, but I can't exactly apologize to dead people now can I?"
"That's fair enough. I didn't invite you over for any sort of apology though. I mainly just had a question for you."
"Go on then…" Hedy feels another Peacekeeper grab onto her shoulder, his grip iron-tight.
"Is it true?" Monae asks. "Did you really kill your father? Is that why you were orphaned and I had to come work for you."
Hedy nods. "I don't think you'd understand the story if I told it to you but yes."
"You don't know that. Go on and try to explain."
She tells Monae about the ways Hugo beat her and how he screamed until Hedy decided she needed to fight back. She tells her about her mother and how her death haunted the family and she had no choice. She tells her how scared she was and that she was convinced that if she didn't kill Hugo, he'd kill her first.
To her surprise, Monae's expression never shifts. She never seems angry or upset. If anything, she seems genuinely sad.
"I'm sorry," Monae says once Hedy's done explaining. "You didn't deserve any of that."
"But maybe I did if I was going to turn out like this." A single tear falls from her eye.
"Nobody deserves that. Not even you. In fact, I'm proud of you for standing up to him."
"I didn't stand up to him, I killed him. Hit his head with a wine bottle and stood passively as he drowned in his own blood."
"And there are times where I wish I did that to my father," Monae whispers. "But I wasn't brave enough and eventually he killed himself, probably by accident because of all the alcohol. That's why I signed up to be a social worker – I wanted to help kids who came from unfortunate situations like my own."
"Oh…"
Hedy wishes she could empathize with her better, but she knows she can't. Maybe before the Games the two of them could've had a nice sentimental talk like this but it's Hedy's fault for blocking her out when she tried to get close. In fact, this is probably the longest bit of time they've spent in the same room after four whole years.
(Then again, Hedy can't exactly leave this room if she wanted to.)
"I understand why you might've been angry," Monae says. "You had every right to be angry at him."
"I didn't have the right to become him though. That's all I've been thinking of since I left the arena. I'm just like my father except that I'm worse."
"Are you though?" Monae asks. "You seem to be expressing remorse and I doubt your father did that."
And then Hedy lunges toward Monae but this time the Peacekeepers let her. She wraps the older woman in her arms, not remembering the last time she was hugged. She lets the tears pour from her eyes and onto Monae's sweater, the sound of her choking sobs filling up the room.
When she lets go, her eyes are red and Monae's sweater looks sort of messed up. "I'm sorry for ruining your sweater. Will you at least let me apologize to you for that?"
"No, because it's fine. Clothing can always be replaced, but you can't," she says. "I know you want to spend most of your time in the Capitol, but you're always welcome to visit me. I'll be here for you, no matter what."
Hedy mumbles to one of the Peacekeepers, "Is there any chance at all that she's able to visit me instead?"
"We'll see how nice the higher ups are feeling."
And that's just about the best answer Hedy could've hoped for.
The first quarter of her tour is a complete blur. The family of Ascot's ally in Ten don't seem to have any issue with her taking his weapon and instructing Verdigris to use it against the two of them. That was her biggest worry going into the uppermost Districts.
Eight is a bit depressing because nobody shows up for Ascot as if she's been completely forgotten by the world. Hedy can't help but wonder about her story. Was she also an orphan? Was she not so lucky as to have a social worker the way Hedy did? She'll never know, and that's horrifying.
In Seven, she speaks highly of Judas, remembering the time they spent together with great fondness and wishing there was more of it. Maybe if Hedy believed in magic the way he did, she wouldn't be in her current predicament. His father and two siblings did at least come up to her and thank her for hanging out with her son until he met his unfortunate end. They say they hadn't seen him in a few years, which Hedy already knew, but that they still loved him even if they never knew how to show it.
Six is another doozy. Even though she sobs at the microphone, desperately apologizing for what she did to Malin without even wanting forgiveness, people don't seem to care. Worse, as soon as she's done speaking, somebody from the back of the crowd screams "thank god they're dead!" Hedy doesn't know how to react to that considering what she did to Malin was probably the worst thing she's ever done, so she ignores it. At the same time, she wonders if somebody in Three would've called out similarly if Hedy had died and somebody else was on this tour.
But as bad as Eight, Seven, and Six were, Hedy knows that there is nothing compared to where she is now – District Five and home to Verdigris. She's been behind the stage for half an hour now, sweating even though it's snowing and pacing in circles.
Hedy knows she has to say something but just… What even is there to say? She can apologize all she wants but that won't change the fact that Verdigris is supposed to be here, not her. Malin may have been her worst victim physically, but what she did to Verdigris was psychologically ten times worse. She saw them in all their innocence and convinced them to shoot a child in the heart. She gaslit them until they had no choice but to turn into a threat, and after that, Hedy ruined every last bit of them.
Verdigris had a loving family, at least for the most part, that they would've returned to. Hedy on the other hand has the exact thing that she called them, nothing.
When she finally steals herself and comes on stage, her stomach rumbles, threatening to release the food Hedy had from lunch up through her mouth. She tries to take deep breaths but they work less here than they did with Beetee and Wiress a week ago.
With no other choice, she taps the microphone and begins to speak.
"Hello all, as you may know, my name is Hedy Lovelace and I'm here because I won the Fifty-Second Annual Hunger Games.
"Some of you may remember me from my turbulent relationship with your Tribute, Verdigris Ahane-Voclain. We met during training and stayed allies for a few days into the Games, then went our separate ways. We still crossed paths on several other occasions in the arena, and in the end, it was the two of us remaining."
Hedy's not sure why she's recapping like this. Maybe it's purely for the sake of reminding herself what she did and how it all went so horribly wrong. None of the speeches she tried to write made any sense anyway, hence why she's speaking from the heart.
(If she even has a heart at all, that is.)
"As I stand here today, I can't help but imagine what it would be like if Verdigris was here instead. They were honestly one of the best people I've had the honor of knowing in my now seventeen years, and not a day goes by where I'm not consumed with dread and regret for what I did."
Tears well up in her eyes so she starts to blink. As much as Hedy tries, the crying doesn't stop.
"They were just… so kind hearted. And they went through so much in life yet they were… they were so protective of the people they loved. They always spoke so highly of their family who now will never see them again and it's all because of me. It's all because of what I did!
She can no longer control herself. She feels her words start to blur together, unsure if people can even make out what she's saying.
"I j-just I don't k-know h-how to m-make it up! I don't know h-ow to for-forgive myself b-ecause V-Verdi j-just…
"Theydeservedthis! Notme never n-never me. It's a-all myfault. I'm so so sorry. I s-shouldn't be here. They should."
Hedy steps away from the mic and lets the gravity of her emotions consume her. She curls her head into her arms and starts sobbing louder with incoherent shrieks. Somewhere along the line, people start clapping but it's more with confusion than with enthusiasm.
It's what Hedy deserves. This mess and this misery is all what Hedy deserves.
She'll never be free of her own sins and the world is beautiful that way. Her suffering makes the world go round, even if she is truly nothing in the grand scheme of things.
That's all she is – nothing, nothing nothing!
A Peacekeeper drags her off stage at some point, she doesn't quite know when. As she sits and sobs over and over again, one of them offers her a tissue that she immediately destroys, the same way she's destroyed everything else and herself in the process and now it's never going to be fixed because she's horrible and it's all so horrible and––
"Somebody wants to see you," a Peacekeeper interrupts. Behind him are the most miserable people Hedy's ever seen, and she knows exactly who they are.
Verdigris' biological father really does look so much like them. All their features are perfectly identical and if Verdigris were born a boy, they'd likely be clones. Much like their child at times, he has a panicked expression on his face and radiates nothing but sadness.
It hurts that Hedy's the reason why he's filled with such despair, but not as much as it must hurt him to stand face to face with his child's murderer.
"I'm Viorel," he says, voice full of nerves. "Verdigris' father if you couldn't tell."
"You look a lot like them."
"People used to say that to us all the time."
Another man steps forward, Hedy assumes it's their other, non-biological father because his features are much sharper, more defined, and his skin is less pale. Unlike his husband though, he comes off as angry.
"Viridian," the man states. "Also Verdi's father, not the biological one."
Behind him, a small boy – no younger than fourteen – pokes out his head. He looks exactly like Viridian, though far less angry and more confused. "I'm Halcyon. Verdi was my older sibling!"
Hedy doesn't even know what to say to them so she instead braces herself for the verbal onslaught that's sure to come. When none of them speak, she again hunches over and starts to cry.
"Serves you right," Viridian mumbles. "Do you know how many nights we haven't slept because of what you did?"
"Dad–" Halcyon cuts him off. "You're going to scare her."
"Good," he says. "Maybe then she'll understand a fraction of what the three of us have delt with for the past six months."
"I don't know what to say except that I'm sorry."
"Of course you are," Viridian sneers. "If you really were sorry, you wouldn't have killed her and then maybe… maybe… maybe we'd be a family again."
"You've been drinking again, haven't you?" Viorel says. "That's all you do now, drink away your problems and then wonder why I left."
"I left because you wanted to be alone! You wouldn't talk to me or even Hal for that matter. You were like a ghost, Viorel, and I tried to make you feel better but it didn't work. Nothing ever worked."
"Of course I'm a ghost." He points to Hedy. "I don't have my anchor anymore and it's all because of her."
"I'm sorry…"
"Stop trying to apologize. You ruined everything and there's nothing you can do about it."
"I told you it was a bad idea to confront her," Viorel chimes in. "Did you really think this would bring you any sense of closure?"
A single tear falls from Viridian's face and he furrows his brows. "I just wanted her to see what this family has become thanks to her actions."
Hedy doesn't say a word until the Peacekeepers drag them away. Once they're gone, she mumbles to nobody in particular, "This is the rest of my life, isn't it?"
But maybe it doesn't have to be. After this tour, she doesn't need to step foot in the Districts again. She can go back to the Capitol, where she's wanted and never have to see the people she wronged. Better, she can find a way to help them. Surely there must be a way for her to transfer her victor funds. If Monae got even a fraction of the Lovelace Fortune, she's set for life.
It'll never fully make things right because the only way she'd do that is by somehow bringing Verdigris back from the dead, but this is at least a step in the right direction.
Being back in the Capitol is a huge relief. When she returned to her apartment, her team of stylists was waiting for her with smiles on their faces.
Hedy reminds herself, these people don't know you. They like you for all the things that you're not. But at least they like her. That's all she can ask for.
Ludo was also waiting for her with his signature goofy grin. He wanted to hear all about the victory tour and comforted her when she talked about the parts that made her upset.
And then the stylists changed her into a beautiful purple gown with specks of gold and they decorated her eyes with makeup that matched. They fit her into high heels that were exactly her size, probably because they were made for her.
She looked completely different from the person she was less than a week ago, sobbing on the stage in Five and at Verdigris' family. Even if it'd be a stretch to say Hedy looked happy, she was certainly in her element.
So now, she slowly walks into a ballroom with Ludo trailing behind him. The place is decked out with ribbons and streamers and even a statue of herself carved out of ice. Elegantly dressed people walk around with serving platters and if Hedy stays far enough away from them, she doesn't have to see that they're avoxes.
Here, everything is fine. Here everything is all for her, and after the last two weeks, she likes it this way.
The first person who notices her is quick to shove a headshot in her face. This time, Hedy doesn't hesitate when signing it. The more people love her, the less she has to hate herself. She smiles for photos and dances with individual partygoers before sitting down on a high raised table, Ludo at her side.
"You seem to be enjoying yourself," he says.
"Sure am!" Hedy exclaims. "It's like you said, it's better to be loved than hated even if nobody knows who you really are."
"Then I'll ask you this." He pauses, letting Hedy finish her bite of what has to be the best steak she's ever had. "Do you know who you are?"
The thing is, Hedy still isn't sure. As much as the people here adore her, she knows that she's a monster when push comes to shove. She knows she did terrible things to earn their praises and that she'd still be better off in a coffin.
But there won't be any coffins for her soon and maybe with time she'll be able to embrace that. She still has Monae in her corner, and she has Ludo too. He even said he'd introduce her to all his friends and that they'd adore her while also acknowledging her twisted reality. That's just about the best thing she can hope for.
She has faith that life will get better with time, that she'll one day stop haunting herself and the people in the Capitol will find another victor to overwhelm with praise. Hedy will then be able to rest, and to reflect, and she'll discover who she really is. From there, maybe she'll be able to go to school, and not just at a college in Three, one of the finer places here in the Capitol.
She'll learn and she'll love and maybe she'll find some sort of a career where she can do some good in the world, even if it'll never erase her bad.
Regardless, things will improve. She knows they will.
Because Hedy Lovelace is not her father's daughter. She's so much better than he could ever be.
Roots - In This Moment
Okay I told RB I'd write a Hedy Victor AU in November 2022 for her birthday, but it's now a year and three months after that. I'm terribly sorry but I did swear you'd see Hedy again at some point and consider her seen. I don't know why she picked today to spawn in and compel me to finish this, but she did.
Y'know, it's funny, whenever I write these AUs, which granted isn't too often since there's been literally three, I regret who I chose to be the actual victor. Although, to be fair, Icarus was never going to win, but Calsin could've. And even though I didn't think of it then, Hedy would've also been a great victor. But such is life, and this AU is literally longer than Verdi's post-victory epilogue by a considerable amount so do with that what you will.
Anyway, as you can probably tell, Hedy is a tribute I've adored even after all these years. She was an absolute pleasure to write back then, and I loved writing her again. I've been writing this since October 2022 and I missed her then as much as I miss her now.
So yeah… happy belated birthday (times two) I am very obsessed with your daughter. Hope you enjoyed my profound angst with a heavy ending.