As Makari's throat gapes open, spilling blood, Clem's grip on composure shatters. She lurches forward, retching onto the ground, slipping into the repulsive pool of stomach bile. The cannon's distant boom echoes, but darkness swiftly descends, veiling her from the fanfare of the victory trumpets. Time blurs into fleeting moments. She recalls a doctor tending to her wounded arm. A flicker of consciousness returns as she peeks through half-closed eyes, catching the woman's concerned gaze.
As Clem attempts to speak to the doctor, she's unable to get the words through the blood and vomit pooling in her mouth, and she succumbs once more to the embrace of darkness. Amidst fleeting moments of consciousness, haunting images of the Games flicker in her mind. None of the other tributes share in her triumph. Despite Makari's words, his lingering shadow seems to sneer at her.
She thinks she hears people talking next to her. Something about not saving her arm. When she finally opens her eyes again, she awakens fully. Instantly, she notices a metallic band encircling her waist, but exhaustion and soreness prevent her from resisting its embrace.
Her gaze shifts to her right, where Katniss Everdeen perches on a chair, knees drawn up to her chest. Clem's eyes meet her solemn gray gaze, who rises quietly and exits the scene.
"I'm sorry." Clem just barely manages to get out.
Katniss's fleeting pause is the only acknowledgment Clem receives before she departs, leaving Clem feeling utterly miserable. It's as though Agatha's presence will forever linger, a silent specter between them.
Muffled voices drift through the apartment, fading just before the mentors arrive. They linger in the doorway as Clem gazes at them with a stoic expression, devoid of emotion.
"You did it," Chaff says.
They come over and settle on either side of the bed. Seeder gently clasps Clem's hand in hers, and Clem's tear-streaked face remains fixed on the ceiling, unable to verbalize the emotions dragging through her.
"How am I supposed to go on after this?" Clem finally breaks the prolonged silence with a question that feels almost childlike, yet she can't concern herself with how it sounds.
"You let us be here for you," Chaff says. We'll help you navigate through this."
Seeder adds with optimism, "If there's one silver lining in all of this, it's that you get a fresh start."
The idea of the Victors' Village had never crossed Clem's mind, but now it brings some comfort to envision Seeder and Chaff as her neighbors, alongside the handful of other victors. It feels surreal to think of living near Florina's grandfather, who's been in the village for literal decades.
Suddenly, a memory jolts her: the state of her arm before she lost consciousness. Her gaze drops instinctively. The blanket has been carefully positioned over it. With a deep breath, she tugs at the blanket, revealing the stark reality staring back at her—a stump where her right arm once was.
"We were going to wait to tell you, honey," Seeder says softly.
Clem's gaze fixates dumbly on her missing limb. Her mind struggles to grasp the reality that her arm is gone, detached from her body. The mentors observe her cautiously, sensing her subdued demeanor. Any fight she once harbored was left behind in the arena when she murdered the boy from District 7.
"Do I get a prosthetic?" Is all she can ask. She'll mourn her arm when her head isn't pounding.
"They'll offer you one," Chaff says. "But you don't have to accept. We're matching now, though."
He raises his left arm, showing the stump at his wrist.
"Yeah, well, I'm a little more hard-done-by, eh? I only have up to my elbow, so I win."
There's no humour in her voice, but Chaff understands that it's a joke. He smiles at her.
Clem has been unconscious for three days already, with two more allotted for proper recovery. A doctor enters and removes the metal waistband that had restrained her to the bed. She's served small meals initially, designed to expand her stomach back to its normal capacity gradually.
A steady stream of victors visits her room, guarding her quietly whilst Seeder and Chaff handle the press. Clem pretends to be asleep—it's easier than confronting the ordeal she's just endured. She recognizes some of the victors through her eyelashes, while others are unfamiliar faces. Annie, the victor from District 4 a few years back, gently strokes Clem's cheek. A woman she vaguely remembers being from District 3 fiddles with some type of device. Haymitch Abernathy and Katniss Everdeen also visit, and Clem feels a growing discomfort at the unexpected connection she now shares with them.
Clem is now part of the exclusive "Quell victor club," alongside Haymitch and the victor from the first Quell fifty years ago. Katniss won last year, and Clem will be expected to be friends with her as the next winner. Even after she killed Katniss' tribute. The weight of this new 'bond' unsettles Clem deeply.
After the two-day recovery period, Clem is ushered out of bed by her prep team to prepare for the recap of the games. Uncertain of how to approach the upcoming event, she considers Katniss Everdeen's subdued demeanor from the previous year. Can Clem get away with similar silence? It's not uncommon for the winner to sit there, unable to pull themselves from the state of shock.
Six hours later, she finds herself beneath the interview stage, where just weeks ago, twenty-six hopeful teenagers sat.
Members of Clem's team take turns bouncing around the stage above her. First her prep team, then her stylist, followed by Juturna Clay, and finally Chaff. Clem tries to listen, but her attention remains fixed on her high heels. A backstage crew member eventually nudges her onto the metal plate in front of her, and at last, she ascends onto the stage.
Blinded by the Capitol's dazzling lights and the thunderous applause of the crowd, Clem is momentarily gripped by terror, as if transported back to the arena with its pink sky and lapping waves. The overwhelming fanfare nearly compels her to flee, but she stifles the impulse.
Caesar Flickerman approaches and guides her to the familiar seat she occupied during the interview night. He speaks to her, but his words register as mere static in her ears. She attempts a response. As Caesar addresses the audience, Clem shifts her focus to the expansive screen behind her.
She digs her nails into her palm, bracing herself for the harrowing spectacle of her fellow tributes' deaths replaying over the next two hours. She's not sure how she can get through this, but her father's face swims around her mind. Only one more day, then she's home. The tape commences with a montage of all the victors thus far. Among them is Florina's great-grandfather, depicted leaping from a height and hurling a spear. He's one of the first. Clem doesn't recognize most of the moments flashing by.
Seeder and Chaff's moments are highlighted halfway through the montage. Seeder's scene shows her cheerfully holding up an orange, while Chaff is depicted lifting a girl by her throat—an image that Clem suspects he dislikes.
The montage progresses through more recent years, showcasing more brutal victor highlights: Enobaria Furlan from District 2 ripping out her opponent's throat with her teeth, Finnick Odair spearing a boy through a net, Johanna Mason kicking a boy out of a tree, Solaris Corvin hurling a cactus at an unseen threat, and Katniss Everdeen blowing up the Careers' supplies. Clem flinches upon seeing herself added into the montage, leading the girl from District 4 into the jungle for the final confrontation.
A clip of President Snow announcing the 'no sponsor gifts' twist plays abruptly. Then, the video abruptly transitions to the reaping, flooding Clem's mind with the faces of tributes she had pushed aside in her struggle for survival—the girl from District 1, the scrawny duo from District 3, the little girl from District 8.
The pre-Games events unfold on screen, each tribute receiving a moment from their interviews, but Clem's interview is shown in its entirety. As the games commence, Clem's emotional defenses collapse. She struggles to keep her head up, overcome with a desperate longing to retreat to bed and shut her eyes.
It's revealed off the bat that the arena is a clock, each sector harboring deadly traps referencing past Hunger Games within the last twenty-five years. Clem remains indifferent to this revelation, though she does note her misfortune in moving in the same direction as the clock's rotation.
It takes all of Clem's resolve not to shut her eyes when Thatcher meets a grisly end to monkey mutts, or when she confronts Agatha on the third day, whose mind unravels after a spider mutt bite. Eila sustains injuries during a battle, and two days later, as her group is pursued by the pack, her demise is sealed. Her leg gives out, and she is impaled through the back with a spear. In the final days, chaos ensues. The Career alliance crumbles, the boy from District 7 (who's name is Makari, Clem learns) loses his ally to poisonous fog, and the Feast claims the lives of the boys from Districts 2 and 4.
On the ninth day, Clem becomes the hunted, pursued by Hyde from District 10, whom she ultimately kills. A tense silence falls over the crowd as Clem and Makari are thrust together, setting their plan in motion. Clem's throat tightens as she watches Makari plummet from his hiding place in the trees. She shuts down as, on the big screen, she mercy kills him, blood pouring from the stump where her arm used to be.
As the tape concludes and the anthem begins to play, Caesar Flickerman raises Clem's hand to a chorus of thunderous applause. Despite the accolades, she can't shake the feeling of how little she deserves it.
Seeking refuge from the overwhelming crowd, Clem retreats into the District 11 apartment and collapses face-first onto her bed, not even bothering to kick off her heels. She yearns to cry—to release the pent-up emotions—but no tears come.
Chaff and Seeder enter quietly and join her without a word, offering silent companionship for about twenty minutes. Eventually, Seeder gently helps Clem up and guides her to the shower.
"It's been a long time since I've had to do this," Seeder says as she washes the makeup from Clem's face with sudsy water. "And you're the first girl I've gotten to help."
Clem looks up at her confused, and then she realizes. Seeder's been the only girl from District 11 to survive the arena. Clem is officially the second girl to ever win from home. It's odd, given how strong their girls can be. Seventy-six girls from District 11 and only two of them have lived.
Clem allows Seeder to cleanse her of the Capitol's ostentatious paint, and ten minutes later, Chaff tucks her into bed. As he turns to depart, Clem's voice breaks the silence.
"Can we go home yet?" she asks.
Chaff's lips tighten into a thin line, and he shakes his head. "One more day," he replies solemnly.
He leaves the light on as he exits, a gesture for which Clem is grateful. She senses the lingering presence of the other tributes in the corners of her room. Somehow, she eventually slips into a fitful sleep. In her dreams, Makari, Eila, and Thatcher visit her. She cannot recall their conversations or what transpires, but upon waking, her eyes are damp with tears.
Clem finds herself awake before the prep team arrives. She spends a half-hour gazing at the ceiling until their enthusiastic knock interrupts her reverie. Zosimus, a man with cascading purple hair, chatters excitedly about the games and his betting preferences while tending to her nails.
"We can't bet, working so close to the tributes," he says. "And of course I would've bet on you, darling. But that boy from District 7 was so handsome…"
Clem regards him with disdain. In her district, a man as old as Zosimus showing interest in a sixteen-year-old would be beaten. Besides, his services seem unnecessary; she has only one hand, and no one will be paying attention to her toenails.
At long last, the ordeal with the prep team comes to an end, and she is transformed for the final interview with Caesar Flickerman. Some kind of alligator-skin dress, with spiked shoulder pads. Her hair has been done up in a bun up the back of her head, and her makeup is soft and green. The victors generally appear less bewildered during this second interview, though Clem cannot claim to feel much improved from the previous day. In truth, she harbors a deep, dreadful sense that she'll never feel anything but misery again.
The Capitol takes on a different vibe in the late morning light, and facing the crowd during the daytime feels less intimidating. Caesar Flickerman skillfully warms up the audience, and the final interview commences. Clem admits to herself that she stumbles through most of it.
This interview seems to stretch on longer than the ones held before the games began—after all, everyone else is now dead, leaving ample time without the need to squeeze everyone into a couple of hours.
"At this point, other than the first nine victors, you belong to a rare group of victors who won without sponsors—a group that includes Haymitch Abernathy and District 11's own Seeder Hines," Caesar poses the question. "How does it feel to be a member of this exclusive club?"
His gaze naturally settles on her, and as she glances at the camera crew, their attention shifts to her as well. Clearing her throat awkwardly, she begins, "Um, it's certainly an honor to be among such an impressive group of individuals. However, I think it's important to acknowledge that none of us in this year's arena had much of a choice, did we?"
She intends it as an observation, but her words inadvertently carry an undertone of resentment toward the Capitol. Caesar detects this shift in tone and quickly changes the subject.
"What are your thoughts on this year's ingenious clock arena for the Quell?" Caesar inquires.
Clem steals a glance at Seeder and Chaff, positioned behind the camera crew. They give her reassuring looks. Just get through this, they seem to say. One more interview, and she'll be back home.
"I think the Gamemakers have truly outdone themselves, Caesar," she manages to say. "They're quite the team, and I'm curious to see what they come up with next year."
"Now that you have hindsight, how do you feel about having survived the various traps they laid out for you?"
"Well, there were a few close calls. I swear, I was moving with the clock and facing everything they could throw at me. But here I am, and I'm grateful to..." She falters momentarily. "To have been part of such a legendary Games. The seventy-fifth will be remembered for years to come."
Fortunately, the interview concludes not long after. Seeder gently places a coat around Clem's shoulders while Chaff converses briefly with Caesar. Then, they lead her back to the District 11 apartment.
Clem finds herself unable to endure any more conversation. Thankfully, her mentors understand and grant her the gift of silence. As she is led through the halls, the echo of her footsteps serves as a haunting reminder of the other children who walked here just over a week ago—two dozen lives lost, now awaiting burial.
Juturna Clay intercepts them at the door with a pointed comment. "When you come back on the victory tour, you'll need to work on your people skills! That interview was barely okay."
Clem struggles to contain her anger but manages to meet the woman's gaze squarely. "Shut the fuck up," she retorts sharply.
She shoulders past Juturna, paying no mind to the scandalized gasps emanating from the entryway, and disappears down the hallway. The disdain she feels for this place is palpable—the people with their absurdly dyed eyelids, painted hair, and modified bodies infuriate her. Juturna watched Clem's struggle to survive in the arena, yet now she dares to dictate how Clem should behave.
The bed envelops Clem as she collapses face-down upon it. She can hear Juturna's voice droning on in the living room, penetrating the walls. Her body sinks deeper into the mattress, craving solitude that seems increasingly elusive. All she wants is to be anywhere but here, away from the chatter, and the need for conversation, and the constant performing for the crowds. It's what she craves—a respite from the constant presence of others. Even during her recovery from injuries, there was always a doctor or nurse bustling around her, or one of the victors sitting vigil beside her bed.
The image of Katniss Everdeen sitting nearby, knees drawn up to her chest, springs to Clem's mind. A lump of guilt swells in her throat, throbbing painfully. It's a Capitol tradition for back-to-back winners to maintain a certain camaraderie, but how can Clem forge any connection with Everdeen? She doubts many victors have killed the mentee of their predecessor.
The term 'Victor' feels foreign and unwelcome in her mind. She's a member of the exclusive club now. She'll be confined to the Victors' Village, obligated to return to the Capitol every year for mentoring duties. She'll have to visit the schools scattered across District 11 and discuss the Games and strategies for survival. The footage from the seventy-fifth games will join the archives in District 11's libraries, alongside the recordings of District 11's other winners. Someone 'aspirational'.
The sound of someone breathing behind her startles Clem, and she jerks upright with blinding speed, poised to defend herself before fully registering what's happening.
"It's just me," Chaff's deep voice soothes.
Clem remains seated on the bed, clutching her racing heart as if on the verge of a heart attack. Chaff joins her on the bed, wrapping his arm around her. Clem fights the urge to lean into him for comfort.
"So what now?" Her voice is barely audible.
"Well," Chaff says. "You get some sleep tonight. Tomorrow, we rise early and head back to Eleven. You'll dance with your friends, enjoy the celebrations, and then we'll start preparing you for the Victory Tour."
Clem's shoulders slump. "I completely forgot about that."
"It's a tough road, kid," Chaff replies sympathetically. "But with time, you'll start to fade from memory. Surviving a Quell isn't easy, but even Abernathy isn't exactly in the spotlight these days. People only remembered him again when Everdeen won last year."
"What about the person who won the twenty-fifth?"
"Long gone."
Chaff tucks her into the blankets, reminiscent of how her father used to do when she was little. She struggles to hold back tears until he leaves the room. The relief of knowing she'll see her father is overwhelming, yet it's shadowed by a sense of foreboding. This world isn't the same as the one she left behind when she entered the arena. Everything feels different now, as if a layer of darkness has settled over everything she once knew. She blinks back tears and watches the sun descend in the sky, longing intensely to be back home.