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The latest Capitol newsāall gossip, per usualābrought the finest blow of reality that anybody could have in the early morning. Caesar Flickerman hosted for everyone to tune back into their renewed daily doses of the Hunger Games. Although, if anything, the program had yet to be something other than absurd speculation about their next victor. Melo had escaped the Arena what seemed like just yesterday, but the Capitol was already demanding more with less than six months until the next reaping.
"People are placing bets on Angel," Finnick muttered bitterly. "You'd think one sibling on the brink of death would have to be enough."
Dove sat up on the sofa, leaning her head on Finnick's shoulder as they watched Caesar sporting the ugliest shade of red imaginable as his new hair. "I'll be seeing that in my nightmares tonight."
A playful chuckle escaped Finnick's lips, but then he became quiet, completely lost in thought. "How did you sleep? No nightmares?"
"Nothing at all," she replied. "What about you?"
He denied without having to give it a proper thought, his hand darting behind them to pull a blanket off the back of the sofa."Would you mindā¦ It's been so long since I last had a decent night's sleep, and Iā¦"
"I should go back before Angel wakes up and sees I'm gone." Dove pushed herself up to her feet, a frail smile appearing to, very much unknown to her, brighten his day. "But maybe I could come over again? It's justā¦ I don't know what happened or what changedāIt's like I never had trouble sleeping at all."
"Oh," Finnick mumbled, leaving the blanket forgotten beside him. "Yes, I mean, please. Perhaps sleeping on a proper bed would do us betterā¦ if you're comfortable with that, of course."
"I really don't mind," said Dove, her gaze meeting the wooden planks on the floor. "Anywhere's fine. I just want a good night's sleep with no nightmares to worry aboutā¦ I need it."
"Trust me," he began quietly, "I understand that."
"Thenā¦" she doubted, gulping down the urge to ignore it all and stay hidden in Finnick's house. "I'll see you tonight. Angelā¦ she'll worry. She always doesā¦ Guess that's all I do for her."
The idea of letting Dove go back to her house, keeping those thoughts to herself as if they were a truth set in stone, didn't sit well with Finnick. He tried to talk her out of it, explain she did so much more for those around herāher presence alone could make anybody's day betterābut she wouldn't listen. Her smile faded, and though she tried to replace it with a determined look, to him, she only seemed like a scared fourteen-year-old.
"Don't try. I want to keep myself grounded. No useless hope. Angel has to live, and I'll make sure that happens, no matter what it costs me." With those words, she slipped away, vanishing into the silent greyness of her house before he could find the words to respond.
Finnick didn't expect her to show up at his front door that night. Her dishevelled hair matched the flood of tears streaming from her irritated eyesāshe had tried to sleep alone, and the outcome was clear. She continued to sob for a while, but unlike the day before, she allowed him to keep her protected in his arms. He didn't dare bring up her thoughts or the reaping; it felt too risky, as if he would lose her again the moment he mentioned them.
They spent a large part of the night talking, both too scared that the previous dreamless night had been nothing more than a coincidence. When they awoke the following morning, their minds blank, and the house illuminated by the first rays of dawn, they could tell something had changed. It was neither for the better nor for the worse.
It became a sort of tradition. Dove would quietly leave her house after midnight to have a'midnight snack' with Finnick while they chatted. Afterwards, they would go straight to sleep. Her complexion had noticeably improved, which did not escape notice. It seemed to mask the previous lost and dim, though sincere, look in Dove's eyes with a faint glow. She appeared much brighterāa true ray of sunshine that could fool anyone into thinking she had never even contemplated volunteering.
On the morning of the third day, Dove had to leave earlier than usual. Victors, specially victor's family, had a duty to be at their district's platform whenever a victor came back from the Capitol. Her brother sported a smile no different from those Angel had been wearing for the past week or soāfake to its coreāas he waved at the crowd on his way down the train. The cameras hesitated to focus on him. His reddish skin and irritated eyes posed a great threatened to the idealised story of the supposed 'glorious' visit to the Capitol.
The victor himself didn't speak a word for the entire ride back to Victor's Village. Nobody pressed him, much less his sisters, who could only nod and smile when he excused himself to go have a bath. He didn't return to the living room for over an hour, and when he did, his skin and eyes were in a far worse condition than they had been at the platform.
"I've got something for you." Melo reached into his pocket to take out three necklaces. He gave one to Angel, one he kept for himself, and the other he left in Dove's palm while whispering to her. "Make it your token, will you?"
Dove accepted before she could understand the meaning behind her brother's request. Her necklace was simple, a tiny rope with nothing to get her hair tangled in that carried the shells of what they were named afterāa Melo pearl on the left, a Dove shell on the right, and an Angel shell safely guarded between them. Each of the three items was ridiculously expensive and rarely seen in District Four, let alone in the Capitol.
"It's beautiful," she mumbled, her eyes set on the pure white Angel shell. "I'll wear it forever."
"I better hope so. Yours was tricky to get." Melo forced himself to chuckle, which didn't appear too forced at first. "For ours, I got the ones you gave us half a year ago and added the two missing pieces."
"Now they're completed," said Dove.
"Exactly." Her brother nodded eagerly. "Come on, girls. Try them on. I've owed you these necklaces for a while, actually. Something to remind you of home."
"So you got me a necklace after all," joked Angel. "Thought you'd stick to your sibling favouritism."
Time would have to apologise for how quickly it flew by. The siblings tried to spend as much time together as possible during their daily lives. However, Angel and Dove had to attend school and focus on their studies, while Melo, being a victor and future mentor, had the lives of two children to worry about. Their days together were not as full of joy and laughter as they should have been; the words'last days' crept into their thoughts far too often for any moment to be truly enjoyable.
Few nights a month, Sophie made appearances at the night market. With only two months left until the reaping, Marco joined her on stage. People started to spread their own wild rumoursāsome claimed they were lovers, while others insisted they were actually siblingsāwhich both found amusing. For someone with an insatiable thirst for fresh talent, Mr Jin outright prohibited them from dating, especially if it became known. He would only make an exception if they were dating for marriage, claiming that the musical potential their hypothetical child could have would be priceless.
Thankfully, Mrs Holub was always nearby, holding Thalia in her arms, but determined to beat some sense into Mr Jin."They're just kids!" she would shout at him. Her voice could often be heard beyond the stage. Sophie and Marco even heard her from the other side of the basement, where the left-about sofas gave them a perfect spot to relax after their performances.
Marco had attempted to reason with Mr Jin in a more peaceful manner. However, when Mr Jin started placing bets on the talent of his and Sophie's child, he took Thalia from Mrs Holub's arms and allowed her to carry on as she pleased. This decision led to increasingly wilder rumours, many of which were as ridiculous as the last. Sophie grew quite fond of those who claimed them to be parents, even though she was only a few months over fourteen years old. Giving birth at such a young age would have been difficult both to endure and to conceal.
For many years, the week leading up tothe Reaping Day was considered the quietest time of the year. District Four's Mayor would proudly mention the few floggings and nearly nonexistent hangings as proof of his personal success. However, his reputation shattered when his eldest daughter dangled off the end of the noose. She was a kind girl, no older than eighteen, whom Dove had often seen performing at the night market. That year's Reaping would have been her last, just like for many other girls who faced a similar end during the last days leading up to the Reaping.
"Stealing from a Peacekeeper." Dove stared at the television, Caesar's show barely registering as she listened to the familiar retelling of past Hunger Games. "The Mayor's daughterāstealing! And from a Peacekeeper, no less."
Finnick rose from the sofa, leaving their mugs forgotten on the table, and slumped beside Dove."It's a poor excuse. I don't know whathe's thinking."
"Knowing him, it's some kind of message. Not just to us. It's more likely a petty warning to everyone," said Dove, her voice low, almost distant. "Maybe like, 'Even the Mayor's daughter can't do whatever she pleases and go unscathed'ā¦ Something's off, though. He'd let them live past their last reaping, just so they could think they've had it made. Then, hang them."
"Whatever it was for, it worked," Finnick replied. "It's all over townāthey're playing a blame game. People are saying it's because the Capitol's upset that the fishermen didn't fulfil their quota again."
"There will be lots of people lost at sea before the Games are over," she whispered, her voice only getting lower as she leaned further into his arms. "Better not to think about itā¦ isn't it? Let's go to sleep. Tomorrow's going to be a horribly long day."
As the clock ticked closer to one in the morning, they tucked themselves in bed and waited. Dove kept closing her eyes, but she couldn't seem to keep them shut for long. Meanwhile, Finnick tossed and turned until he lay once again on his back, staring at the ceiling with a quivering frown. Chatter began, somehow. They didn't dare dwell on anything Capitol-related for too long. Part of them didn't want to believe it. It hadn't been nearly enough time. There were yet many things Dove wanted to do before deathāthings she wanted to experience, places she wished to see, and a life she hoped to live.
"I'm scared." The whisper slithered out of the confines of her heart, shutting off her defences and letting loose the little control she had kept over her tears. "I don't want to die."
Many thoughts raced through Finnick's mind during the minute it took him to find a coherent response. He wished he could tell her not to volunteer, but he knew that would be futile. No matter how terrified she was, Dove would prefer to sacrifice her own life rather than let her sister waltz into danger. Her loyalty was so intense that it bordered on desperation, making it surprising that no one in her family had noticed it. However, they were too occupied with their own desperate measures to judge each other's actions.
"You won't die." He cupped her head in his hands and made her gaze meet his. "I'll make sure of it. And last time I promised, it worked out just fine."
"It did, didn't it?" Had he sneezed, he would have missed her quiet chuckle, yet there was nothing that could have made him ignored her words. "If I don't make it backā"
There was no space in his mind available for such a possibility."Don't say that. You'll make it back."
"Liar," she whispered into the pillow, though she hadn't expected him to hear it. "Promise you'll take care of Angel, no matter what happens."
He took a moment to say,"Only if you promise to do whatever it takes to survive. I don't care what you doānobody willākill, hide, lie, cheat. Just come back."
Dove didn't hesitate, nor seemed to give his request a fair bit of thought, before nodding. She settled closer to him, ready for sleep, when her gaze fell back on his hands, which kept the gentle grasp over her face. "This isn't right. I can't just promise you that. I owe you so much moreāprobably my life, if I'm honest."
"If it bothers you that muchā¦" He took his hands off her face to set them somewhere under the pillow. "How about I'll ask you to do something for me one day? And of course you couldn't say no."
"That's pretty scary. You won't ask me to do something awful, will you?" she joked, her sight unable to leave his sea-green eyes.
"I'm not sure," he said, faking to be thinking about it. "I suppose I could keep that in mind. Can't make any promises."
Dove scoffed playfully and tossed to her side, facing away from Finnick, to stare at the closed windows."Goodnight, Blondie."
"Night, Freckles," he replied without missing a beat.
White clouds soared through the morning sky in a peaceful dream that carried Dove all throughout the never ending sea. The clouds turned grey at the forest's edge, where they dropped her with such force she scraped her knees when she met the ground. Thick, growing foliage blocked most trails, yet she paid it no mind and walked aimlessly until she found a clearing. Angel stood on the opposite side, very much alive and breathing, kneeling over a senseless pile of blood and tattered clothes.
"Angel!" she cried out, but her sister never turned to her. "Angie?"
When her sister had finally appeared to put herself together and lift her head, Melo staggered into the picture while dragging his trident with him. Somehow, she needn't hear Claudius Templesmith's voice to knowāthey were the last two in the Arena. Angel didn't charge, neither did Melo. They stood just a mere metre away from each other, weapons in hand, but not daring to do as much as raise them. A dense fog slipped past the trees to punish them, flowing like ashes in the wind to lighten them up inside. They gaped, begging for mercy, until no sound left their lips. The fog cleared, revealing the gruesome end her siblings had met. They were lying there, their insides scorched up to the tip of their tongues. Their hands lay centimetres apart, as if they had tried to reach for each other at the very end.
"NO!" Dove's scream echoed in the walls as she bolted upright in bed, her eyes wide with panic, searching frantically for her friend, who was nowhere to be seen. "Finnick? Finnick!"
The door flew open with a bang, and there stood Finnick, his face pale and his breath coming in ragged gasps."What happened? Are you hurt?"
"They... they were dead!" With her mind still in turmoil from her nightmare, Dove didn't care about keeping it together. She wrapped her arms around him and buried her face, flooded with tears, in his shirt. "Some kind of fog came and... and it burned them alive."
"It's alright." His whispers didn't seem to soothe her in the slightest, though she would clench his clothes harder if he stopped stroking her hair. "They're alive. You'll see them in no time. Melo won't go back to the Gamesāno victor willāand Angel will be safe. It's her last year. You'll save her, and then you'll come backā¦ to spend many more years with them."
"I can'tāI can't do it," though her sobs were loud, they weren't nearly enough to cover her wavering voice. "There's no point. I can't kill anyoneā¦ I won't make it."
"There are ways. You can make it out of the Arena without killing. Your mother did it." He brought her closer to his chest, leaving no room for her to isolate herself with her own thoughts. "You'll get to that during training. For now, how about we go down and have breakfast? You've got to see Caesar. He's dyed his hair again. Guess the look of dripping blood from his scalp didn't match Capitol standards."
From early morning until sunrise, they watched Caesar's show about past Hunger Gamesāhe had finally made it to the fiftieth, which were quite eventful. There was nothing new that he hadn't mentioned before, but his hair certainly stood out even more than usual. Caesar had transformed his deep, bleeding red hair into a bright orange. It was more laughable than ever. That shade of orange was not natural. The look, if anything, was so artificial that it resembled a cheap wig.
"I don't know if it's the memory of his fiery red hair playing tricks on me, but this isn't as bad as I thought it would be." Unable to hold back a chuckle, Dove watched Finnick's eyes light up with triumph. "I should go back. Melo's been waking up early lately. He'll panic if he sees I'm gone."
Finnick sprang up behind Dove, following her to his front door."I guess I won't see you again until the reaping."
"I could come by later with Melo," said Dove shyly. "He's always up and about, giving victors bread every year before the reaping. Thought that'd be a proper way to have our first meeting. I doubt you fancy explaining to Melo any of this. He'd kill you, then tell Angel, who would kill me. Better if we justā¦ meet today."
"It will be my pleasure to meet you in a couple of hours." He bowed, winking at her playfully.
"Likewise." Dove copied him, bowing further than he had just to spite him. "Meet you later."
She had only made it through her home's front door when footsteps appeared at the top of the stairs. Planning as she moved, Dove took off her shoes and hung her jacket before sneaking into the kitchen for a glass of water. Melo showed up almost immediately, his messy bed hair a perfect match to his puffy red eyes.
"Oh, I didn't know you were awake," he muttered and helped himself to a glass of water as well. "Morningā¦ Did you sleep well?"
"Not any better than you," she replied, eyeing the notorious bags under his eyes, courtesy of his prolonged nightmares. "Will you go play errand-boy today?"
"Yeah, fancy coming along?" Melo said, though his voice made it resemble a joke far more than an invitation. "It's alright. I know you don't like how they look at you, andā"
"No, I want to go." Dove gulped down what little left there was in her glass and set it down. "When are we off?"
Melo blinked in a paused, heavy manner."An hour, maybe?"
"No time to waste." Her stool scraped against the floorboards as she sprang up, rushing toward the kitchen doors with a hasty "I've got to get ready," then she dashed up the staircase to her room.
About an hour later, after showering and getting'prettied up' for the show, Dove waited for her brother in the kitchen. Angel had woken up only half an hour earlier and was enjoying a rather chaotic breakfast. Although, from her anxious tone alone, anyone could tell she thought that would be her last meal with her family. Just as Melo gathered everything he needed, their mother walked into the kitchen, her gaze fixed somewhere on the floorboards. They had to stay for a few extra minutes to ensure she wouldn't cook anythingāMelo made pancakes for her, which Dove happily ate half of before leaving.
She soon remembered why she had stopped joining her brother on his errand-boy duty. At the eldest victors' house, she got pulled into a constraining embrace with no warning. At Mags' house, she had to comfort the older woman as Mags sobbed through half-intelligible sentences. However, those were better than what awaited at Muscida's and Ron's. There, she had to endure their pitying looksānot for her, but for her sister. Everyone knew Angel would be called, and they also knew that "he" wouldn't let her make it out of the Arena alive.
Victors were required to become mentors in the year following their victory. That idea alone painted a vivid picture in everyone's minds. They could imagine it so clearly that it almost seemed ironic how different things would be. Melo would leave for the Capitol that noon with District Four's tributes, but neither of them would be Angelique Ogilvy. The situation felt almost cruel. Dove, lost in thought, heard Ron's rambling about taking care of her during the Hunger Games. Although, instead of her, Angel would be the one left behindāarguably alone, as they could only expect their mother to hide herself in another daze. There wouldn't be anyone there for her unless Ron kept his promise to never leave her side. And what would happen once she died? Melo would have to return home, defeated and alone, to a mother lost in her own mind and a sister consumed by her tears.
"Right, Dove, I know you're not his biggest fan, but try to be nice," Melo joked as they arrived at Finnick's front door, which they opened without knocking. "Finnick! I got you bread, and there's someone I'd like you to meet."
Finnick welcomed them without bothering to question why Melo hadn't knocked before barging in. Although when their eyes met, he offered his hand for a handshake and smiled at her. "You must be Dove. Melo doesn't shut up about you and Angel."
"Must be annoying." She took the handshake and copied his smile. "He's talked a great deal about you to us, too."
"Good things, I hope," he said.
Dove nodded, stifling a laugh."Most of them."
The playful banter and silly introductions between the two drew Melo's attention, and he watched with keen interest. He glanced back and forth between them, his brow furrowing further as time passed. Something was off about them. He was sure.