Chapter 12 - After
Morning dew clung to the benches on the platform of the Capitol train station. Bliss sat down, not feeling the coldness or dampness. The heavy medication- painkillers and antipsychotics- rendered her unaware of most sensations.
Hues blended together over the horizon- pinks, oranges and blues illuminating the puffy clouds. Bliss became lost in the colours. She didn't notice as someone approached, flinching at the sound of a greeting.
These meds are making me dull.
Bliss swivelled her head to see Afflatus Lux staring down at her, silhouette glowing in the morning light.
"Morning." Bliss mumbled in return.
"Panem, try and get off some of those meds when you're home. You sound like a robot." Afflatus said crassly, plunking down next to Bliss.
"Haven't you heard? I am part robot now." Bliss might have thought better than to make the comment in front of her present company, but the meds slowed her brain.
"No, Bliss, I'm part robot. You just had a few parts replaced." Afflatus motioned to her metal limbs.
"Fair enough." Bliss replied.
Silence fell over the girls. Bliss wasn't sure why she'd come. She dared give Afflatus a curious look.
"What?" The D1 victor asked.
"I'm just trying to figure out why you're here." Bliss answered.
"Just to say goodbye. No ulterior motives." Afflatus shrugged.
It didn't make sense to Bliss, not really. Why is the prize of the Capitol giving me attention? It nearly made her wary of Afflatus.
But Afflatus knew Harlem… and she'd helped Bliss the previous night, in small ways. The girl had given no reason not to trust her.
"Well… thank you. It's nice to see a familiar face." Bliss said, trying to smile. It didn't feel right. She dropped her gaze, embarrassed. Afflatus didn't laugh.
"I mean it about those meds, okay? Sometimes they can be convinced to give us a choice if we can show we're stable enough." Afflatus warned her.
Bliss wondered if Afflatus spoke from experience, and voiced the question before she could stop the impulsive words.
Afflatus turned away momentarily, embarrassed herself, running a metallic hand through her hair. Bliss had never seen such an expression on the other girl's carefully curated face before.
Bliss wanted to do something to ease the other girl's mind, especially after Afflatus had given potentially life-changing advice when it came to the chemical restrains she was currently being forced to ingest.
Maybe her inhibitions were lowered from the medications, maybe she felt so adrift and disconnected from herself that her boundaries were just as amorphous, but Bliss reached over and squeezed the other girl's hand. She wondered if Afflatus could feel it.
Afflatus turned back. Her sense of touch appeared to be intact. Bliss held the metal limb just as she would any flesh limb.
"I'm sorry. It's early. And meds take away my filter. I'm all over the place." Bliss squeezed Afflatus' hand once more before putting it back down on the bench between them.
Afflatus studied Bliss. She clasped her hands together in her lap, touching the spot Bliss squeezed. Bliss had so many questions, but now wasn't the time.
"It's alright." Afflatus finally said. Bliss couldn't read the expression on her face. It looked partially curious- partially something else.
"Thanks for coming to say goodbye to me. Sorry I made it awkward." Bliss replied.
"You didn't. I think I might be the awkward one." Afflatus let out a low laugh, not quite meeting Bliss' eyes.
"Not possible." Bliss chuckled as she spoke.
Bliss bravely looked towards Afflatus- not shying away from the facade of Capitol beauty. The girl's personality was so different in real life than seen on tv. Bliss thought Afflatus' image might be more extensively crafted than she'd realized. There was something so normal about the girl sitting beside her on the bench; she wasn't just a fierce seductress.
Judging by her reticence to accept Bliss' apology, and her self-proclaimed awkwardness, it occurred to Bliss that she seemed like someone who felt alienated from those around her. Maybe that was why she came to the train station, for a normal conversation.
"What are you thinking about?" Afflatus asked, snapping Bliss out of her thoughts.
"Just that… you seem different than you do on tv, I suppose." Bliss answered.
"I like that you're honest." Afflatus stated. Her expression indicated a level of admiration.
Bliss shrugged. "I feel like you deal with enough bullshit."
Afflatus' expression darkened.
"Sorry to bring up the bullshit." Bliss felt guilty. Afflatus caught Bliss' deflated expression.
The other girl seemed at a loss for words. Bliss couldn't be sure why, but noted the seemingly stunned reactions to her apologies.
"Are you… doing okay? I know last night was a lot." Afflatus broke the silence.
Bliss pushed away the terror that descended at the thoughts of the Victor's Party. Instead of answering, she sighed.
Harlem approached the girls, unsurprised at Afflatus' presence. The distraction allowed Bliss to pull herself together, and saved her from constructing an answer that wasn't simply 'no'.
"Morning, Afflatus." Harlem greeted.
"Hey, Harlem." Afflatus replied.
They exchanged a few more pleasantries.
"It's time to go." Harlem said to Bliss.
Bliss was almost sad to leave the strange, gorgeous girl's side, but leaving this hell-hole outweighed her curiosity.
"It was nice to meet you, Afflatus. I hope to see you again when we're back." Bliss said as a goodbye. She wasn't sure where the formality came from.
"It was nice to meet you too, Bliss." Afflatus smiled at her. "And… call me Affy."
Bliss nodded.
Afflatus departed.
Harlem looked at her.
"What?" Bliss asked.
"I haven't even gotten the 'Affy' pass yet." Harlem said, somewhat jealously.
Bliss looked after the girl, even the silhouette of her shadow perfect. Bliss wasn't just objectively admiring, though, any time it occurred to Bliss how beautiful the girl was, it also occurred to her how the Capitolites must treat her. As an object; a shiny, perfect thing. The attention must be devastating.
"Keep it in your pants, hey? You've got a girlfriend." Harlem said, watching Bliss stare after Afflatus.
Bliss swatted his arm. "Not funny. She's an interesting person. And she probably gets way too much of that shit so… just shut up."
Harlem's face reddened. It made him look young. For a man wise in so many ways, he sure knew how to make a dumb comment.
"Good to know, though." Bliss said.
"What?" Harlem asked, cautiously.
"That you think she's hot!" Bliss said.
"What?" He repeated. "I do not. And, I'm over ten years her senior."
"Seemed to be what was on your mind." Bliss kept going.
Harlem's face only became redder. She was enjoying this too much.
"What? I- Come on, Bliss, I don't-" He sputtered in humiliation.
"Maybe I should let her know?" Bliss said.
A vein bulged in his forehead.
Bliss cracked a smile to show she was joking. "I'm just playing." She said, through fits of laughter.
Harlem shook his head. "You're an evil child." He said.
"Would an evil child get the 'Affy' pass? What does that make you?" Bliss parried.
Harlem seemed at a loss for words. He'd have to step up his game if he was going to be spending time with Bliss.
The train conductor honked the horn, starling both of them.
"Okay, okay, you win. Let's go home." Harlem said.
Bliss smiled at him, a big, toothy grin.
Instead of dread swelling in their chests as they entered the train, there was a moment of levity. Just a moment, nothing life changing or even that memorable. But it helped tip the scales, balancing out the horror.
…
Faux-leather enveloped Bliss in one of the many luxurious lounge cars attached to the Victor's Train. She found a window seat- or more accurately a window wall. Floor to ceiling blue-tinted glass served as the long walls of the train car. It felt like the world was in a large fishbowl. As she walked through the car, she walked through an aquarium-of-sorts.
The effect was surreal enough that it helped distract her from thoughts of reaching District 7, and thoughts of the previous night's Victor Party. Thoughts of both catalyzed a reaction in her body, and mixture of coolness in her gut and heat in her head and heart. It made her shake, it made her want to drift away.
It would be a good idea to heed Affy's advice, though, and continue to show she could behave herself. At least while she was still under such heavy surveillance. She'd instinctually done so at the Victor's Party, and it served her well enough, so she held on. She'd explored the train, all the different lounge cars and supply cars, the activity cars, and even some of the sleeping quarters she probably wasn't supposed to ogle. Better than freaking out.
The longer she sat in the fishbowl, watching rocky plaines fly by, the less she could control the trajectory of her thoughts. Bliss flashed back to the beginning of the party.
…
She almost stopped breathing as she stepped out of the limo into the lights of the flashing camera bulbs, and the brightly lit exterior of the President's Mansion. Harlem had warned her about the press, but Bliss still let her eyes adjust to the night light and could barely see as Harlem guided her through the mob.
Hands trailed her shoulders and arms, a bold few reaching for her waist. Harlem shielded her as best he could, earning a few wandering gropes himself. Bliss was grateful for the deflection, but guilty he had to face the crowd because of her.
Their first stop was the lobby of the mansion. A chasm of space, vast, high, topped with a gold-vaulted ceiling. A sea of people crashed into Bliss, offering greetings, schmoozing, asking her endless questions. What they all had in common, though, was that they wanted to touch Bliss.
The hands on her body felt like the restraints from her hospital room. They felt like skeletal bones trying to drag her into their depths, to eat her, consume her whole. If she lost hold of Harlem's arm, she'd never been seen again.
After what seemed like a lifetime of fawning and introductions, Bliss was escorted to the next room. They had her on a tight schedule, Harlem told her, as the evening progressed she'd be expected to entertain several crowds, each getting smaller and more elite, until the end- where she was expected to grant the President himself a private audience. After he dismissed her, she'd be free to leave.
It felt like a series of final tests, and a final boss. She'd be presented to the most important man in the country after a night spent expending all her energy, draining her soul. She'd be in no shape to win, but she thought that was by design. How victors acted in their most desperate moments was telling, and by gathering that information, the Capitol would have a better idea about how to control the niche population. The more she fought, the more she yelled about how unfair this all was, the more she broke, the more she would be controlled. Knowing this information wouldn't save her, but it may be the lid that contained an outburst. The consequences would be too heavy.
Time progressed, Bliss was escorted from room to room. Each room was a different metaphorical courtyard in the arena, where unknown dangers lurked. She had to ascertain what each person wanted from her. The intrusiveness of the prompts surprised her: an emotional reveal, seeing her squirm, how fast they could make her cry, making her promise them future encounters. It went on.
It was impossible to be strategic during the interactions, they were so foreign. The manipulation was amplified a thousand times from what she was used to. She could see veiled threats and desires everywhere, and wished to shrink into oblivion.
Bliss' Capitol Image did well to shield her from more intrusive conversations, though. She was supposed to be mysterious, so it was her prerogative not to reveal her every thought and emotion. She counted herself lucky because of this.
Whenever Capitolites' hands became too familiar, Bliss openly played up how young she was. She'd 'admire' the room, 'admire' the outfits adorning the attendees, even 'admire' the servants- to an extent that made her seem utterly unfamiliar and entranced with the environment. She had no illusions it made the creeps desire her any less, but she thought the social perception of giving inappropriate attention to a child would halt the worst of the worst.
Harlem was asked to join another group, several rooms into the tour. He told her he'd be back as soon as possible.
As someone four times her age stroked her hair and palpated her thigh, Bliss leaned into another Capitolite beside her. She grabbed their hand and made herself smaller. They took notice of the elder beside Bliss groping her leg and tittered about how the man liked them young. This earned Bliss a scathing glance from the man, and a horde or intrusive questions from her 'saviour,' but the man had removed his grip.
She was almost glad the other Capitolite didn't let go of her hand as they asked her question after question; her heart rate had yet to slow down. It offered a modicum of comfort, even if she couldn't trust the source.
A bell rang, and Bliss was herded into the next room. She took the transitional moment to straighten her dress and tights, where there fabric had been awkwardly shifted from the man's tampering.
She lingered in the doorway momentarily, to finish the job. It was much quieter in this room than others. When she'd entered the last few rooms, it was like a game amongst the occupants to see who she'd approach first. She had been ignored, conversations within booming. It was only after Bliss had begun speaking to someone, did everyone flock to her. But the next room was quieter, she could hear just a few light conversations.
"Hey." Harlem said.
Bliss' head snapped up, done with her dress. She ran a hand through her hair, eyes scanning the room. It was entirely composed of other victors. Violet and Tait's eyes were on her. Afflatus shot her subtle, curious, glances. She dropped her reddening face, hoping they hadn't seen her fumbling and anxious. Harlem shielded her while she got her breathing under control.
"There won't be another room like that, I don't think." Harlem said, trying to comfort her. Instead, Bliss only felt anger.
"Could have given me a heads up." Bliss said without looking at him. She walked away without waiting for his answer, approaching Violet and Tait.
The victors kindly greeted her, and she reciprocated.
"It's good to see you again, Violet." Bliss said, honestly. "Sorry about the way our last visit ended."
"Oh, it's alright! Post-game excitement is normal." Violet answered. His choice of words was strange, but maybe not so strange considering all their conversations were being recorded and analysed. Bliss bit her tongue.
"Thanks for understanding." Bliss answered.
Violet nodded, unable to mask the concern on his face. His eyes flitted towards the other room. Bliss felt heat colouring her cheeks.
"How were the sponsors?" Tait asked, cautiously.
So that's what that was.She supposed she should have made the connection, the occupants going on and on about their generosity.
"Fine… Familiar." Bliss answered, smoothing her clothes. She didn't know what to say. "I am grateful for their gifts." She said for the microphones.
Another wave of embarrassment washed through her. She didn't want to speak with them any longer. The emotion gave her the courage to approach the pack of the careers, to greet Afflatus. Bliss walked away from Violet and Tait without saying goodbye, hoping they'd forgive her rudeness.
"Hello, Afflatus." Bliss said respectfully, approaching the career victors.
Some of them looked at her like she was a meal, some looked with amused curiosity at the victor child approaching the group of intimidating adults. Bliss kept her head up, though. Even if they acted tough, they were technically Bliss' equals, and she would not submit where it was not required.
Bliss greeted the career victors by name as their eyes met. The ones looking like they could eat her calmed down a bit.
She turned back to Afflatus. "Thank you for coming to the party." Not that she had a choice.
"It's my pleasure." The D1 victor answered. She led Bliss to a drinks table.
"How are you finding everything?" Afflatus asked cautiously.
"I'm alright. Thanks." Bliss answered quietly. As Bliss poured herself a drink, her shaking hands spilled the liquid. The other girl pretended not to notice.
Afflatus didn't push, or examine her too hard. Bliss appreciated it.
"Mind if we stand here for a minute?" Bliss asked. She could feel the eyes of those she hadn't greeted yet, but figured if there would be leniency in any room, this was it.
"Sure." Afflatus said, leaning on the table beside Bliss.
They chatted about the clashing patterns on the couches.
A bell rang, and Bliss hoped the other victors would forgive her rudeness. She said goodbye to Afflatus, thanking her again. Afflatus nodded and joined the other careers as Bliss departed.
Bliss saw her receive some curious looks, Afflatus was not known for being social with the other victors, let alone a random D7 girl. Bliss was grateful for her kindness.
The crowds in the next rooms became smaller, the occupants more refined. She made it through a room of arena techs, then gamemakers. The makers kept asking her what parts of the arena she enjoyed the most. She hoped the bullshit that left her lips was believable.
Only one of the gamemakers was handsy. He kept brushing his fingers through her hair, letting the strands fall between them. He kept saying how much he missed her red hair. She tried to keep images of blood from her mind.
She could see Harlem on the other side of the room, trying to gracefully exit the conversation trapping him, but the other person wasn't letting go.
Bliss found the courage to approach the last person in the room- the head gamemaker. He seemed appreciative not to have to track her down. She might have been too shy to approach him otherwise, but these weren't normal circumstances. She wanted the other man's fingers out of her hair, and fled.
Bliss complimented the head gamemaker on his creativity, and thanked him for the logic and patterns he employed. He said he was one to reward clever tributes. It was implied he enjoyed punishing bad decisions. Bliss became aware of how her joints felt under her skin. A pain twinged in her knee- that's not right. The joint was replaced. The pain was phantom.
Finally, it was time to meet the President of Panem.
Harlem was not allowed inside the room. At the very least, the night was almost over.
Bliss greeted him formally, curtsying. The President told her to sit across from him. Avoxes lined the sides of the room, eyes trained on the floor.
"Are you enjoying the party?" He asked.
Bliss heart slammed against her ribs, but she vowed not to rage or scream despite the torrent of emotion. "Yes sir, absolutely. It's so nice to meet the people that had a hand in my success." The words felt like poison leaving her mouth, but he found the answer acceptable.
"You've joined a special class in our society, a class with a dutiful responsibility to our nation. You understand that it's important to represent us well, and represent yourself well?" He asked.
"Yes sir, I do." Bliss forced out. She wished Harlem was here.
"Any mis-representation of yourself is a mis-representation of us. Any mis-representation of us is unacceptable. This is your only warning on the matter." He said, seriousness permeating the room.
"Thank you, sir." Bliss squeezed out.
The President examined Bliss, looking her up a down. She tried not to shake, she tried to mirror the body language of the Avoxes lining the walls.
"Alright. Acceptable." The President rose and turned on his heel after the declaration.
An avox escorted Bliss from the room, to another room filled with light chatter.
I thought I was done after seeing the President.Bliss' heart sank.
The sensation was only momentary, though. Relief washed over her when she saw the room was empty except for Harlem, Violet, Tait, and Afflatus. Bliss supposed she should find the surveillance of the acquaintances she kept unnerving, but was too soothed by the sight of them to let the anxiousness in.
"Glad you made it though this door, and not the other." Afflatus said upon her entry. The other victors shot her a warning glare, alarmed at her loose lips. Bliss thought better than to ask her what she meant. A question for another time.
"You can rest here until you're ready to be escorted out." Harlem said, pretending Afflatus hadn't made a comment.
"Do I have to go back through the crowd?" Bliss asked.
"Yes. I'm sorry. But then it's done." Harlem said.
Harlem pulled her aside, to ask a more sensitive question. The others minded their business.
"Are you okay? Are you seeing anything?" He sounded anxious.
"No." Bliss replied. The heavy medication the Capitol pumped her with before the event kept the hallucinations at bay.
"Okay." Harlem said.
Bliss looked at the floor.
"I'm sorry for not telling you about the sponsor's room." Harlem said suddenly. "I didn't want to scare you. And I didn't think anything was going to happen, you're only fifteen for fuck sakes."
"It's okay. We can talk about it later." Bliss shot him a warning glance, not wanting his comments to get him in trouble because he was trying to comfort her. Harlem nodded, unable to hold her gaze.
Afflatus watched them casually, ready to step in. For someone that was loose with her own comments, Afflatus seemed to recognize the danger, still, and wanted to help those she was friendly with. Bliss admired the camaraderie.
Bliss and Harlem returned to the small group.
"Thanks for being here, I appreciate it." Bliss didn't know what else to say.
"We're happy to." Plum's mentor said. Tait and Afflatus nodded in agreement.
If Bliss had less medication running through her bloodstream, she may have teared up- overwhelmed by everything, but she was sedated enough not to.
"I think I'm ready to leave, if that's okay." Bliss craved being back in her hotel room.
"Absolutely." Harlem said.
The group did their best to form a circle around Bliss on her way out, but the group of victors only attracted more attention. The cacophony took Bliss' breath away. She saw stars, and couldn't force herself to breathe until the group made it out of the building, away from the crowd. The others pretended not to notice her panicked, shallow breaths.
"It's over now." Tait said, gently. Bliss nodded.
Bliss and Harlem climbed into their limousine, bidding the other victors adieu.
Back at the hotel, Bliss swallowed the sleeping pills Harlem gave her, and passed out until he woke her to leave for the train station the following morning. Luckily, with the strength of the medication, she didn't dream.
…
Fear gripped Bliss in her seat, in the fishbowl train car. She felt the weight of the Capitolites' gazes, the sweatiness of sponsor's hand pulling the fabric of her dress and tights, people caressing her hair. She shrunk into her seat, suppressing the urge to throw up.
Harlem was giving her space, as she'd requested, but in her moment of vulnerability she craved his company above all else. But she couldn't bring herself to ask for it. Hellish loneliness sped through her, pushing out more tears.
In the privacy of the train car, she sobbed into a pillow.
Harlem found her a while later, beckoning her for dinner. It had been a while since she stopped crying, but still, concern washed over his face.
"I'm fine." Bliss said, woodenly.
Harlem sighed, then retrieved a wet-wipe.
Bliss hadn't done a perfect job of scrubbing off her eye makeup the previous night, and the remnants had left dark streaks trailing down her face. She would have wiped it off before Harlem found her, but she was not used to her tears leaving such visible evidence. She cursed the makeup.
"We'll be home soon. You did it." Harlem said.
Bliss shrugged. The platitude meant nothing. It did nothing to reassure Bliss, knowing she'd have to return to the Capitol. A never-ending carousel. The attempt at comfort didn't penetrate her dark mood, she just felt hopeless.
"What are you thinking about?" Harlem asked.
"Nothing. We can talk about it later." She said. He sighed again, but didn't press her.
Soon, Bliss wouldn't be able to mask her evasiveness under the guise of avoiding surveillance. If Harlem asked her these questions back in District 7, she'd have to find another way to avoid talking about the chasm opening inside her chest. Or avoid him all together, but that wouldn't be polite.
The rest of the train ride passed in relative silence. Bliss could barely hold a conversation. For the time being, Harlem didn't press.
Eventually, she readied herself to get off the train, to greet her family and her district. She didn't want to hug the husks of her family members, but she couldn't 'mis-represent' herself, lest she wanted to find out what consequences hung over her head.
The thought of seeing Ambrosia both excited and worried her. Bliss had changed. She wasn't the same girl from before. Bliss wondered if Ambrosia had changed at all, if she'd told her parents about Bliss like she'd promised. Well, if her parents didn't find out from her, they found out from my interviews. Bliss didn't think she was going to live to find out when Ambrosia made the promise, and now found herself greatly anticipating the answer.
Luckily, she didn't wait long to find out. The moment Bliss stepped off the train, Ambrosia barrelled into her, hugging her, kissing her, crying on her cardigan. The spectacle was unmistakable. Ambrosia loved Bliss, and told her over and over.
Bliss let herself sink into Ambrosia's familiar embrace. She kissed her girlfriend slowly, and hoped the press got a good enough shot to satiate the hungry Capitolites. Maybe they'd leave her alone for a while, knowing how Ambrosia received her.
Her family was next. Bliss awkwardly hugged her parents, then her brother. Bryce was uncharacteristically quiet.
Bliss, Harlem, Ambrosia, and the Beaudries made it through the crowd, then rounded a corner to exit the square outside the train station. Music and laughter trailed behind them, the celebration of her return sure to continue into the night. She would be flattered, but it was another forced tradition. It was like watching zombies sing and dance.
"You hair looks weird." Bryce said.
Bliss pretended not to hear. Instead, she eyed the suitcases her parents curiously toted.
"You're not coming with me." Bliss stated. Her words made her parents and brother halt, then face her. "You're not coming to victor's village." She clarified.
Harlem drew in a sharp breath. Why does he care, it's not his family? Bliss shot him a glance which said not to butt-in.
"You're an ungrateful little bitch." Bryce said.
Her father looked like he agreed. Harlem exhaled sharply.
A smile spread across Bliss' face. Bryce grabbed her arm and twisted.
Wrong move, Bryce.
Bliss swung, a lightning-fast, vicious blow. Her fist smashed across Bryce's face, and she felt the cartilage pop as his nose broke. He fell on his ass. It didn't make up for all times he'd given her bruises in the past, but it was more than satisfying. She wasn't scared of him anymore, she wasn't scared of losing a fight.
Bryce looked like he was about to lunge for Bliss, but Harlem- of all people- stepped between them. Her parents hung out uselessly on the sidelines.
"Step back." Harlem said to Bryce. There was an edge in his voice Bliss wasn't familiar with.
Harlem stared Bryce down, a battle of wills. Bryce submitted, eventually, stepping back. He promised Bliss this wasn't over.
"You shouldn't hit you brother." Councilman Beaudrie addressed Bliss. She ignored him.
Bliss, Harlem, and Ambrosia got into a taxi. Bliss watched as Bryce stared after them. Her parents had dropped their bags on the ground and stared at the ground, dejected.
Beside her in the taxi, Ambrosia looked stunned.
"I'm sorry, babe." Bliss said. Ambrosia nodded and seemed to relax a little. She was clearly startled by Bliss' outburst, though. Bliss tried to shake it off.
The ride to victor's village was longer than Bliss anticipated. She wondered if the government would grant a driver's license to a fifteen year old. How else am I supposed to get around? She didn't want to call taxis for the next three years. That was another day's problem, though.
Harlem informed them that Ambrosia was invited to live with Bliss. When Ambrosia said she'd have to check with her parents, Harlem told her they'd already been informed. Ambrosia didn't understand, but Harlem told her they were not permitted to go against the Capitol's wishes.
It made sense that Bliss wanted privacy from her family, since her girlfriend would be living with her, Harlem said. Ambrosia looked confused, and gave Bliss glances that told her they'd be talking later, but didn't say anything else.
Harlem left Bliss and Ambrosia to their devices, to explore their new home. Bliss didn't care much for the extravagance, though, it gave the same gold-covered-shit as the Capitol.
…
Weeks later, Bliss received a letter from the Capitol instructing her to promptly propose to Ambrosia, or invite her family to live with her.
The girls would be allowed to marry when both were sixteen years of age. Bliss complied with the request, and at Ambrosia's understandable confusion, Bliss showed her girl the letter from the Capitol.
Ambrosia seemed to shrink under the weight of their control. She never asked Bliss what would happen if she said no, perhaps not thinking she would be able to handle the response. Ambrosia complied as well, and posed for engagement photos.
…
It took months for Bliss to willingly speak to Harlem. She was evasive and borderline cold when he came around to check up, or when they sat for dinners Ambrosia arranged. Bliss wasn't ready to talk, she couldn't interpret the storm inside.
After she saw him, she was wracked with guilt. Ambrosia began to understand the cycle and she invited him by less frequently.
How Bliss felt was confusing; the cyclic emotions that always ended in hopelessness. It wasn't usually like her, to be this sad. She was one to strategize, to lie in wait, to overcome.
In this case, though, there was nothing she could overcome, nowhere to direct her anger. The entity controlling her was amorphous, and so was her ability to deal with her emotions.
She frequently wandered through the forest alone, whenever something bubbled up, something that Ambrosia wouldn't understand and shouldn't have to deal with. Her girl was willing to support her, and still in love, but there was a disconnect between them. Bliss had these new, wretched emotions, but Ambrosia didn't have a new understanding.
It was strange to hide from Ambrosia, she never had before.
A night arrived where Harlem came for dinner again. Ambrosia said it had been too long, and they didn't want to be rude.
Ambrosia was more candid with her conversation topics. She wasn't shying away from the Hunger Games, from their experience in the Capitol. She'd been patient, and now sought answers.
"Bliss won't tell me why they dyed her hair." Ambrosia said to the room, part-way through dinner.
Bliss tensed.
The hallucinations weren't something Bliss had shared. She wasn't ready, and didn't think it was fair to burden Ambrosia with the knowledge.
Harlem looked towards Bliss, unsure how to answer.
"I told you, they give all victors Alterations." Bliss interjected, cooly.
"I know, but why your hair? The host loved to talk about your hair during the games. I thought they'd keep it." Ambrosia pressed.
She's perceptive.
Bliss felt heat rising to her cheeks, and tore at her cuticles. She wished she was better at managing herself, but felt trapped by the conversation.
Harlem cleared his throat. "Sometimes the Capitol does the unexpected, and her hair fits the aesthetic they're trying to create for her." He covered.
"Why does she need an image? Why can't she just be herself?" Ambrosia demanded, no longer addressing Bliss, knowing she wouldn't receive an answer.
"It's something all victors go through." Harlem said, implying it's something else Ambrosia couldn't fully understand as a non-victor.
Ambrosia huffed.
"I thought things would go back to normal after you came home." Ambrosia said, voice filled with sadness.
Emotion swelled in Bliss. No matter how hard she tried to be normal, it wasn't good enough.
"I'm sorry, love… I really am. I don't know what to say. I don't know how to explain. You don't deserve this." Bliss said, excusing herself before she said it would have been better for her girlfriend if she'd died in the arena.
As she walked away, tears streaming down her face, she heard Harlem's even, comforting voice say something to Ambrosia. Does he ever get a break from damage-control?
She stumbled out the back door, towards the damp forest. There was a beautiful, ancient tree a few hundred meters from the boundary of her property; with a curve in the base of the trunk that fit her body perfectly. It was a place she often retreated to when stress overtook her.
Bliss plunked down in her spot, motionless. She stared through the crop of trees until they lost shape, focus, and colour.
After an unknown amount of time passed, Harlem found her.
"I know you don't want to talk to me, but isolating yourself isn't the answer either." He said gently, sitting down beside her.
"I don't not want to talk to you…" Bliss started.
Harlem raised an eyebrow.
"I just feel like I can't." She felt frozen.
"What's the worst that could happen?" Harlem asked.
Screaming. Breaking things. Punching walls. Throwing up. Sobbing. Ugly, ugly. Responses she was deeply ashamed of.
"I think you're better off not trying to help me." Bliss stated.
"I might be." Harlem said.
The ice broke. Bliss pivoted to look at him.
"Doesn't mean I want to watch you fall apart, though. And I wouldn't be much of a friend if I was only there for you when times were good." He added.
"Is that what we are? Friends?" Bliss asked.
"Doesn't seem like you have many options at the moment." Harlem said.
"Jeez." Bliss said, disdainfully.
"What? I thought you could handle some banter." Harlem said.
Maybe she could, if she was herself. Bliss rolled her eyes.
"My friends die or betray me." She said.
"Only those two things?" Harlem asked.
"Yeah." Bliss stared at the ground.
"How so?" He prompted her to work through the spiralling train of thought.
With somewhere to direct her anger, Bliss started ranting about Lily. About how little regard she had for Bliss, shooting her looks, how she basically only piped up to challenge her or insult her. Lily hid her disdain at first, but it was weirdly cutting to know she disliked Bliss so much. Bliss also felt guilty for speaking about a dead girl in such a manner. The emotions threatened to make her sick.
Harlem said Lily's behaviour could be due to jealousy, but that the situation was more complex than Lily simply disliking Bliss.
The duo sat in silence until the sun set, Bliss digesting Harlem's words.
"Lily saved your life." Harlem said, pulling Bliss out of her thoughts.
"What do you mean?" Bliss didn't know what he was referring to.
"Think about it." Harlem prompted.
She wracked her brain. Nothing.
"After Plum died, Lily started running. She noticed you weren't following and came back. She yelled for you to run, she helped you to your feet, and she pushed you to run in front of her. And she helped you climb up the ladder first. Lily received worse injuries from the stones than you because of it. If she hadn't come back for you… honestly, I don't know if you would have run away in time." Harlem monologued.
Bliss hadn't noticed Lily's movement during their in the arena, nor while watching the recap. Her thoughts had been entirely focused on Plum. Harlem's analysis made sense, though. Another wave of guilt crashed over Bliss, trying to reconcile her anger with the fact Lily saved her life.
Lily was usually the first to do everything, but she'd made sure Bliss was running and climbing first, protecting her. She didn't abandon her.
"Lily was a loyal ally, until she wasn't." Harlem added, using Bliss' words from her interview.
Tears scorched Bliss' cheeks. She wished she could stop crying. It didn't help to hold it in, though. Harlem waited patiently as she sobbed. As she regained the ability to breathe more evenly, she also felt a semblance of peace knowing Lily wasn't all bad.
"Now that we have private space to talk, I wanted to tell you some things. But it can wait if you'd rather not know right now." Harlem said, gently, after Bliss pulled herself together.
"I'd rather know." Bliss said.
"The reason I'm telling you is because I want you to be prepared for what you're up against in the Capitol." Harlem paused for her to process the remark. "We're going to have to return eventually, of course. We have the Victory Tour in six months and I'm sorry to say it, you'll probably be mentoring next year. The Capitol likes new victors to mentor, and I'm sure you'll be no exception. You'll probably receive an invitation by mail sometime after the Tour.
"There's always stuff going on behind the scenes, some manipulation or control tactic to keep citizens in line… And there was a lot of debate during your Games, specifically, more than usual." Harlem said.
"Was it about me?" Bliss answered fearfully.
"No." Harlem shook his head. "It was able Callum, mostly. And Cable, and Opus Dei, but mostly about Callum as he made it farther and farther… The Capitol doesn't like manipulation that isn't their own, and Callum shook up the Games in a way they didn't respond to well.
"Career tributes are supposed to be honourable. There's nothing honourable about betraying and slaughtering your original alliance during the bloodbath… And then there was the matter of Callum's name for the group: 'The Work of God.' God's will is inferior to the Capitol's, and Callum would have been better off remembering it…
"His arrogance was in downfall, in the end. There was no reason for the muttation to injure him before the final battle, other than to level the playing field. You weren't doing well, and they wanted to give you a fighting chance." Harlem finished.
A look clouded Bliss' face. She felt conflicted, as if the win was handed to her.
"They did not out-right rig the Games one way or another, so be assured you won on your own volition. But they did injure him enough so you would have a chance, so the odds weren't skewed in his favour." Harlem added.
Bliss remembered every second of the final fight in vivid detail, and decided to believe she'd won the fight fairly. It could have gone either way in the end. She just turned out to be a less complicated victor. Which Harlem assured her that the Capitol viewed as a good thing.
Harlem paused and wrung his hands, preparing to broach the next topic.
"The drugs they gave you were intentional. There would be no reason, normally, to send a drug with hallucinogenic properties into the arena. It served a purpose, though. If Callum had won, they'd have a tangible and memorable reason to diagnose him with a psychotic disorder, and suppress him with medication and therapies indefinitely. Perhaps even institutionalize him. It 'wouldn't' be their fault, you see, if he came to the games already ill. That was going to be the punishment for his transgressions. Because you won, though, they edited the worst of his hallucinations out. They edited yours out to, but it served as a warning for you, Bliss. A warning of what they're capable of is you disobey. Of what horrors await." Harlem wrung his hands again.
"Have you ever heard of PCP?" He asked.
Bliss shook her head.
"It's a dissociative anesthetic. What they sent you was a close derivative, which exaggerated certain components of the drug. It alters the mind and induces hallucinations. It can make people agitated, violent. Reality essentially ceases to exit and becomes a heightened version of your fears. A cruel, cruel, thing to send to you tributes… The Capitol wanted their 'pizzaz,' though, and with the extent of both your injuries, they needed to give you something dramatic to serve their purposes." Harlem tried to keep his voice calm, but he was wavering.
Bliss wondered what the Capitol would have done if neither of them survived their injuries. She asked, and Harlem guessed they didn't view it as a possibility, supremely confident in their doctor's abilities.
"How do you know?" Bliss asked.
"About the drug? I stole a look at your chart." Harlem said.
"That makes sense." Bliss' mind returning to the Capitol's control tactics surrounding Callum. "Him visibly losing his mind is a great way to suppress him." She thought of herself, how she'd barely weaned off the antipsychotics, because although they dimmed her, they kept the nightmares and visions at bay.
"They don't feel the same way about you, Bliss. Callum was a different story, entirely." Harlem tried to assure her. "And this year was a good year for you to win."
"What's that supposed to mean?" Bliss asked.
"I mean we've had enough career victories recently that they didn't mind an out-district kid winning. They have to give the non-career districts a taste of hope every now and again, and you're a good candidate for that, as long as you stay in line. Which you have. They aren't forcing the medication anymore, are they?" Harlem asked.
They weren't. It was actually Bliss who was reluctant to face her nightmares and anxiety-induced visions. It was easier to pop a pill than talk herself off a ledge. She'd been choosing to bury her head in the sand.
"Freedom comes at the price of submission, in the Capitol." Harlem pressed on when she didn't answer. "I don't want to worry you too much, but you said you'd rather know. There are certain realities of being a victor, an image of the Capitol and oneself to uphold. It isn't fair, but the consequences are severe if we don't comply." Harlem looked sad. "I'm sorry to be the one telling you all this. It's better to know the truth early, though, and be as prepared as you can be."
Bliss agreed, and tried to wrap her mind around their conversation. The future seemed threatening and ambiguous.
"What are the consequences?" Bliss asked, needing to know.
Harlem sighed, picking at his cuticles.
"They'll hurt you. Physically, emotionally. Not in ways that are obvious. They can make you… participate in things. Ranging from simple dinners with gamemakers or other similarly powerful and unpleasant people that crave your company to umm… If it's bad enough Bliss, they might even kill you. Or…" Harlem got stuck on his words.
"Or what?" Bliss prompted. It disturbed her that he didn't get choked up at the thought of dying, but something else.
"There's some stuff you won't have to worry about for a few years." Harlem's tone worried her.
"Are you sure? There were some people at the Victor's Party that seemed to think I was a grown-up already." Bliss said, empty.
"I'm sorry I had to leave you. I didn't have a choice." Harlem said, veering off topic. "What happened in there? Did someone hurt you? You looked… flustered coming out of that room."
"Just some creep with wandering hands." Bliss tried to brush the experience off, but it still deeply unnerved her.
"I'm sorry…" Harlem said again. "Usually they behave better with younger victors. His peers may think of him as a bad apple."
As if it's any consolation.
"I want to know what you were going to say." Bliss prompted. "It can't be worse than what I'm thinking."
Harlem shuddered. Bliss thought it would stop within a few breaths, but the man kept shaking. He was clearing his throat, obviously stuck.
"I'm sorry…" Harlem started. His voice shook. Bliss didn't want to push him.
"You said I won't have to worry about some stuff for a few years?" Bliss asked.
Harlem managed to nod.
"Tell me about it later." Bliss said, trying to let him off the hook.
Harlem nodded again. He stopped shaking after a few more minutes.
"I'm sorry." Harlem said quietly.
"You can stop saying that, it's okay…" Bliss started. "I mean, none of this is okay. But it's not your fault. It probably wasn't easy telling me the other stuff, so thank you. I would rather know, than find out the hard way." Bliss stared at the foliage in front of her again, not pressing Harlem on things he had- or had not- experienced.
After a while, Harlem let out a big breath he'd been holding.
Bliss studied him, a man just over fifteen years her senior. They were obviously very different, but had more in common than any other friend Bliss made in her life. He'd been there for her since the beginning, and she wanted him to know how much it meant.
"Harlem…" Bliss started.
He seemed to brace himself for a joking comment, not in the mood.
"I wanted to say thank you. I really mean it. Sometimes I think about the time you let me hug you on the train on the way to the Capitol, the way you encouraged me, and the way you were so patient with me after it was over. I don't think I would have made it without you. You're so kind. I feel like I don't deserve it… I can't imagine how stressful it is to do this job over and over, and not become… detached. Thank you for not giving up on me. Thank you for giving it your all, even though you thought I was probably going to die, even though it was probably painful at times." Bliss stared at the ground so she could get the words out, but looked at her mentor once she was finished.
Tears streaked Harlem's face. A sob escaped, and Bliss squeezed his shoulder.
"I'm here for you, too." Bliss added.
Harlem nodded, not trusting his voice. His muscles were tense under her hand.
"I'm really glad you made it home." Harlem said, tone broken. She squeezed his shoulder again.
"I think you should talk with Ambrosia." He said, after a while.
Bliss breathed heavily in response.
"I'm serious. The Capitol is setting up your life together faster than both of you want, I'm sure. I know it's hard, but letting her in will help both of you." Harlem implored.
"Okay. I get it." Bliss said, defeated.
"I'm here if you want to speak with her together, as someone else with the perspective of a victor."Harlem offered.
Not just an emotional support human. Bliss was grateful he tried to spare her dignity.
"I appreciate it." Bliss replied. "I'll speak with her." She promised.
Harlem nodded.
"Are you okay?" Bliss asked, concerned.
"Yeah. Yes. I will be." Harlem stuttered.
Bliss sighed and squeezed his shoulder one last time before rising to her feet. She helped Harlem up. He stood almost twice her height.
The pair ambled back to Bliss' mansion.
The future would surely contain hellish experiences, but Bliss wouldn't face it alone. She had allies, and she would fight for them as much as she fought for herself.
She wouldn't abandon them.
THE END.