I did it. And I've never felt more defeated.
When the final cannon went off and the fanfare started in that arena, I thought I had been the one that died. None of it felt real, and even after I was inside the hovercraft, I knew things would never be the same.
I don't get to talk much to Haymitch until right before the official broadcast as I'm pretty left in isolation again to heal from my injuries and learn to walk on the new metal leg they gave me, after I had lost mine in the arena. As I'm about to step on the stage, my mentor warns me to play the sympathy card when it comes to Rue's death and my actions following it. Apparently, there were some people who weren't happy at my show towards the Capitol.
As his words run through my head, I'm barely able to pay attention to the footage of the games, so much of which I wasn't privy to. A lot of it is a blur and it doesn't become clear in my own memories until I'm forced to watch the recap with Caesar.
Levy had died in the initial bloodbath. I guess the temptation of the Cornucopia was too much. I came across little Rue from eleven and we became unlikely allies, which I'm sure Haymitch was cursing me for. It didn't stop him from sending me food, which I shared with my little friend.
I squeeze my eyes in pain as I remember her death. We had split up to spoil the Career's food supply. I hadn't wanted to, I thought there was strength in numbers, but Rue insisted, confident that it would work, and it did. What we didn't expect was the Career from one coming across Rue who had gotten caught in one of their traps, tangled in nets. I had tackled him a second too late, the spear flying through the air straight into Rue's stomach. I didn't even think as I strangled the boy. He had struggled under my hold, swinging the knife he grabbed from his belt wildly, cutting my leg, but it didn't stop me. Once he stopped moving, I hurried to Rue as two cannons sounded.
Something inside me broke then. The magnitude of our reality and the unfairness of the Capitol hit me at once. How dare they pit us against each other as if we're each other's enemy? I had to do something to show them that they couldn't fully control us in here. That I refused to be a pawn in their games. I decorated her body in the wildflowers that grew in the nearby field. It was strangely calming, like I was back in the bakery, decorating cakes. How low had I gone, comparing decorating Rue's body to a cake?
Still, it made me feel minutely better that everyone would see what they've made us do. That this innocent, sweet, twelve year old girl lost her life for no reason, regardless of what they tell themselves. I'm sure they'll cut away as soon as they see the flowers, but for at least a moment, they'll see. That knowledge is only further confirmed when District Eleven sends me bread. It's sprinkled with seeds that are only available in their district, and the first time any district has sent another tribute a gift. It must have been meant for Rue.
I thought I was going to die after that, the cut on my leg from the Career deeper than I thought. I was able to drag myself to a small cave, barely concealed from the outside when I passed out. When I came too, all I could feel was pain, and heat. I was used to being warm, it was always warm in the bakery, but this made that feel like the arctic. I tried my best to wipe away the blood to see the damage, but the red and purple streaks that creeped upwards made my heart drop. Blood poisoning. I had heard about it, I had even seen it a couple times in past games, but I never thought that would be how I'd go.
I had all but given up. It was so far in the games now that Haymitch wouldn't be able to afford the kind of medicine I'd need, not that he'd be able to scrounge up the funds in the beginning either. This kind of life-saving medicine would cost a fortune, and now that we're almost towards the end, it would be the most expensive gift any tribute had ever received, even more than Finnick ODair's trident.
Which is why I was sure when I heard the bells of a parachute outside that it must be food or something small, to ease my discomfort to my death. I had never expected to be holding a syringe with a clear liquid inside. Surely it couldn't be what I think it is? My heart beats faster as I use the last of my strength to stab it into my leg and push down, hoping I did it correctly before letting myself drift off.
I wake up feeling infinitely better, and all that's left on my leg is a small pink scar. It takes me a second to actually grasp the miracle that Haymitch somehow pulled off. I wonder how he did it?
I don't know how long I've been out or who's left in the arena, but we must be coming to the end. The stream that had been across from this cave had been drained, which usually means they're drawing us out for the final battle.
The end of the games is all mainly a blur, but I'm forced to watch. Cato and I are chased by mutts and climb to the top of the Cornucopia. Even after one of the mutts bit my leg, deep enough that I now had a prosthetic in place of it, he's in worse shape than I am, which gives me the opening to push him off, leaving him to battle the mutts alone. Similar to last time, you can tell the injury to my leg is bad, and it's a race of who's going to die first. FInally, after a few hours, a cannon fires, and there's a moment where the audience can't tell who's won, until I open my eyes one more time before succumbing to the darkness again.
Caesar congratulates me on my win, and then President Snow comes out to crown me as the Victor. I hold back the shiver from looking into his cold eyes as he smiles. "Seems you've captured the heart of Panem," he tells me. There's something else behind his words that leaves me confused, and honestly, frightened. It's clear he's not happy with me and is trying his best to hide it, but I can still hear his threats. I now understood what people said when they could see evil in the eyes. I thought I had seen it once or twice in my mother, but now I realize that hers is a cold indifference compared to what I see in this man's snake-like gaze.
I'm changed into a more elaborate suit and escorted by Haymitch and Effie to the celebration with all of the sponsors who supported me in the arena. This peaks my attention as I wonder who donated enough for that medicine.
Haymitch leans into me as we wait outside the door to enter. "Stop fidgeting so much. Pretend you're thankful and keep your conversations short. If anyone tries to offer to go somewhere alone, try to get out of it. And if you can't…" He shoves something into my pocket.
I reach down to take a look. "What is-" My eyes widened seeing the foil packets in my hand. I knew what condoms looked like, my brother Rye had somehow gotten his hands on some from some Peacekeepers and tried to give me an embarrassing rendition of "the talk." From what I knew, they were hard to come by in the districts, but I'd imagine that's different here, not that I'd ever needed them. "What the hell? I don't need these, Haymitch." I try to hand them back but he just shoves them back in my pocket.
He just shrugs. "You might. It's hard to say no here." The grim look on his face only makes the dread in my stomach grow. When he won his games, did he have a hard time "saying no?"
What am I walking into?
We enter the room and immediately, a hush falls over it. I scan the crowd, relieved when I don't spot those snake-eyes, I feel the slightest relief, but not much.
Someone, a tall man with a green top hat raises his glass. "Our Victor!" Everyone cheers and I'm pushed into the direction of all the people in the room, passed around for pictures and greetings and congratulations. Many of them tell me about how they knew I'd win from the beginning while others mention they waited for me to prove myself before sponsoring me. Drinks are passed around and I decline them all, choosing to nibble on some pieces of cheese from one of the hors d'oeuvres trays to distract me from the extravagance of it all.
I'm listening to a man go on and on about each of the techniques I supposedly used in that arena, doing my best to politely nod, but I could feel myself becoming nauseous as he recounts the horrific events inside so casually.
"Peeta!" Effie's excited voice catches my attention. I turn my head to see her hurrying towards me. "There are some very important people who would like to meet you!" She apologizes to the man I'm speaking to, tugging on my elbow. I was more than happy to escape. As she leads me through the crowd, she whispers in my ear. "They're very wealthy."
She stops me in front of a group of about four women, who all look older than my mother. Or maybe that's just how they look with the feathers on their lashes and long, claw like nails. They can't stand too close to each other, because their asymmetrical skirts are in the way. They awkwardly turn their bodies so they can stand closer to me, and an unfamiliar scent, like overripe fruit hits me. I crinkle my nose trying to chase out the unpleasant smell.
"Do you have Haymitch's gift?" Effie casually asks, as if it's no big deal. I'm so surprised that nobody else finds this to be completely insane that all I can do is nod. "Good," she says, patting my shoulder, leaving me alone to fend for myself.
"It's such an honor to be in the presence of a Victor," the woman closest to me says. She places her hand on my arm, her nails digging into my skin.
"Especially such a handsome one," the one to her right purrs. Like, actually purrs. I think she's had her voice altered.
"I believe there's a room reserved for us," the first woman says, glancing at the other three. "My sisters and I would love to hear more about how our support helped you in that arena."
I'm panicking now. Is this what Haymitch meant when he said it would be hard to say no? I couldn't insult their so called generosity when they've paid to keep me alive. Did they expect me to compensate for that? "A-all of you?" I choke out, feeling the nausea come back up. I've barely talked to girls, much less… "But people will notice I'm gone," I try to point out, hoping to at the very least put this off.
"We won't be gone long," the third woman, the tallest one of them, says. "You'll still have plenty of time." I can feel the hand grabbing me start to tug, and I feel like I'm trapped.
"Peeta!" Effie's voice is calling me again, and I hope she's here to save me. I hold my breath, waiting for my Capitol escort to reach us, and I feel the woman's grip tighten like she has no plans to let me go.
"Yes, Effie?" I give her my full attention.
"I'm so sorry to pull you away again," she says, actually looking apologetic towards the women. "But someone was very eager to meet you and they just couldn't wait."
"I'm sorry, but we're about to have a private conversation," the woman says.
I couldn't tell which option would be ideal, or even if I had a choice. "Who is it?" I ask, cautiously. Maybe one would still be better than four.
A young woman, no, a girl, really, bounces out from being Effie. She looks to be my age, maybe younger, wearing a simple orange dress, her dark hair in loose curls down her shoulders, pulled back with a bow. She looks plain compared to everyone else here, in a good way, pretty. She seems familiar but I can't quite put my finger on it.
"You're Peeta Mellark!" She says, her entire face lighting up, looking at me like I'm the most exciting thing in the world.
"I am," I give her a smile and a nod, which makes her smile even bigger, if that were possible. I notice that the grip on my arm has loosened significantly, and when I glance over at the other women, they're slack-jawed.
She holds her arms out. "Do you like my dress?"
I feel my brows scrunch. Her dress? She wants to know what I think about her dress? "It's lovely."
She laughs, the sound light and musical. "It's your favorite color," she adds, twirling so her skirt flies out. The gesture is completely childlike but it only amuses me.
"How did you know my favorite color?" I blurt. She was right, her dress was orange, but not even the bright orange that most people assume. It's soft, even ombreing out into yellows and pinks towards the bottom.
"One of your brothers, I think, Graham? He mentioned you liked the color of the sunset during the family interviews."
Right, I had forgotten that once we were down to the last eight, our families were all interviewed. I can't help thinking about my mother. Did she have anything nice to say about me?
But I was even more surprised by this girl, who had remembered my brother's name, even before she knew I would win. Most of the people here couldn't even recall any of the other tribute's names.
"So I had Cinna make a dress in that color," she continues. "He said you would like it." Her eyes are wide, waiting for a confirmation. Cinna made her dress?
"I do," I assure her, partly out of obligation to agree to everything here, and partly because it truly was my favorite color. "You look as beautiful as the sunset itself."
She blushes and tucks her chin, looking down at her feet. She wore flats instead of heels, which again, are out of place. "Thank you."
"We were just about to have some private time with our Victor," one of the women pipes up. I had almost forgotten about them and the dread is back. "So if you would excuse us-"
"Oh, no you can't go!" The girl says, reaching out to grab my other arm. It's not threatening like the woman's, but it still doesn't stop me from feeling like I'm in a game of tug of war. "We were talking. Peeta Mellark," she looks up at me, using my full name again. "Would you like to sit over there with me?" She points to the sofas by the windows. There were still plenty of people around so I didn't think it would lead to a similar situation as with the four women. "Of course, you don't mind," she says to them, rather than ask.
"O-of course not," the one with the altered voice says, nudging the one with the grip on my arm. She immediately drops it.
"Great, let's go!" She says without waiting for me to say anything. She tugs me away from them, and I can't quite grasp what's happening. I didn't know this girl or what her intentions were so I wasn't about to let my guard down. I glance back at Effie who looks excited for some reason, which only adds to my confusion.
She all but yanks me down onto the sofa, slipping off her shoes and curling up next me, resting both of her hands on my arm closest to her, looking up at me with another huge smile.
"I'm sorry, I didn't catch your name," I say, not wanting to come off as rude, especially when she's gotten me out of whatever situation that was earlier.
"Katniss," she tells me, scooting closer. It's a little too close for acquaintances, her shoulder brushing mine.
"It's nice to meet you, Katniss." I keep my tone polite, hoping Haymitch might come and get me soon.
"I like your hair," she says. "It reminds me of corn."
I laugh out loud before I can stop myself. What an out-of-pocket thing to say!
"Can I touch it?" She asks, looking up at me with those big eyes again.
"Um, sure?" What else can I say? It was a weird request but certainly a mild one.
She reaches up with fascination and runs her slender hand through my hair. My eyes flutter closed for just a moment, surprised by how nice it feels. "It's really soft."
"Thanks to my prep team, I'm sure," I say, trying to get some of the attention off of me. She nods, retracting her hand, and I'm surprised at my initial reaction of missing her warmth. It comes to rest on my arm again.
"It was really kind of you to comfort Levy when she was chosen as a tribute," she says, her voice full of awe. "I think that's what caught my attention."
There's a bubble of anger in the way she words the reaping, as if it's not the worst thing to happen to a kid in the districts. But I tamper it down because I'm sure I'm being watched. "I just did what anyone else would have done."
"No you didn't," she remarks so casually. "Actually, I have something for you!" She reaches into her skirt, which looks to have a pocket and pulls something out. It's a brown leather cuff with a gold symbol etched into the center. I feel like I've seen that symbol somewhere before. "Will you wear it?"
I can't do anything but agree, and stick out my wrist as she excitedly snaps the gold buttons on either side. The whole thing is making me a bit uncomfortable and I let my eyes wander around the room, finally spotting the person I've been trying to find again.
"There you are, my boy!" Haymitch approaches me. He notices the girl hanging onto my arm, and shock flitters across his face before he schools it back into a calm expression.
I don't expect Katniss to look so elated to see my mentor, but she does, and she jumps up, throwing her arms around the grumpy man. "Haymitch! I haven't seen you in months!"
He awkwardly pats her back, although I think I see some fondness in his eyes that I've never seen before. I was even more intrigued by who this girl was. "How are you, sweetheart?"
"I'm wonderful. I got to meet Peeta Mellark!" She tells him happily.
"Just Peeta," I say. I don't think I've heard my full name said so many times in a row before.
"Just Peeta," she smiles. "I have something for you too, Haymitch," she says, her hand disappearing into her dress. "It has pockets," she explains to him, and the corner of Haymitch's mouth quirks up.
"You and your little presents. You should really stop, sweetheart," Haymitch grumbles.
"You wouldn't refuse my gift, would you?" Katniss pouts, and Haymitch practically melts. Who is this man and where did my ill-tempered mentor go?
"No," he agrees.
"For you," Katniss presents the object in her hand with a flourish. In her palm lies a small gold figurine.
I lean closer. "Is that a goose?"
Katniss bobs her head. "Effie mentioned you were thinking about getting pet geese. I thought I could give you your first one. Do you like it? I can get you a real one if you prefer! Oh, I should have thought of that!"
"No, no," Haymitch hurriedly takes the figurine from her hand, holding it up in thanks. "This is great. Love it. Thanks, sweetheart." He attempts a smile but it looks weird on his face.
Katniss' shoulders visibly relax. "Oh good. It took me two whole weeks to make."
"You made that?" I closely study the figuring in Haymitch's hand. It's remarkable and flawless.
"I did!" Katniss looks at me again. "Do you want one? I can make you one!" She offers quickly.
"No, it's okay," I tell her, sure I won't see her much after this anyway. But her disappointment makes me uncomfortable so I add, "You can if you want to."
"I will," she promises, the smile never leaving her face. How is one person so happy all the time? Is this what it must be like to live in the Capitol and not worry about what tomorrow would bring?
"Isn't it getting late, sweetheart?" Haymitch says, glancing at the large clock on the wall. I'm surprised it's already been several hours. A quick look around tells me most of the attendees are drunk and some have already started to leave.
"Oh, yes!" Katniss said with a frown. The first I've seen on her face. "I'm sure Grandfather will be worried. I promised I would only stay enough to meet Peeta M- Just Peeta. I guess I just got a little carried away!"
"It happens," Haymitch says. "I should probably get the boy to sleep too. Early day tomorrow."
"Right!" Katniss says. "You're leaving tomorrow, right? To go back home?" She looks upset at the thought.
"Yeah. I'm sure my family and friends will be missing me," I say, hoping that will earn me some sympathy.
"And your girlfriend?" Katniss asks, looking down at her feet again.
I could lie. Say that there's a girl waiting for me back home. That would hopefully put an end to her supposed infatuation but I can't do it.
"I don't have a girlfriend," I admit, and Haymitch pinches my elbow. Whether that was the right or wrong answer, I'm not sure, but Katniss brightens up.
"Oh." The blush is back on her cheeks and I squeeze my fingers to keep from reaching out to touch it. What the hell, Mellark? "I wish I could see the districts."
Why would anyone want to see the districts, I want to say. Perhaps they romanticize us the way we do the Capitol. After all, their Victors, their celebrities are from the districts. "Maybe you can someday," I say, hoping that's enough.
Katniss gives me a hopeful look. "Maybe."
Haymitch coughs. "We should go. Nice to see you sweetheart. Thanks for the duck."
"It's a goose," Katniss corrects. "It was nice to see you too." She hugs Haymitch again before she turns to me. "It was very nice to meet you Peeta." She throws her arms around my neck, lifting up on her toes to kiss my cheek. "Thank you for wearing the cuff."
"Of course," I tell her, but I almost can't wait to leave and take it and any other reminder of the Capitol off.
"I'll see you soon," she says, before blinking a couple of times, remembering there are other people here. "Oh, you too, Haymitch. Goodbye!" She finally releases me and skips through the crowds until she disappears.
Haymitch sighs and rubs his head.
"What-"
He cuts me off. "I'll explain later." He doesn't leave my side while we go to find Effie
"Ah, Peeta! I was just coming to find you! How was your time with-oh." Her eyes land on the cuff on my wrist. She looks at Haymitch who gives a one-shoulder shrug. "That's wonderful!"
"What is?"
"Not here," Haymitch reminds me, so I keep my mouth shut until we're back in the penthouse Levy and I stayed in prior to the games.
"Now will you tell me what's going on?" I huff, frustrated at feeling like Haymitch was hiding something from me.
"I didn't realize you had made such a good impression on Katniss Snow!" Effie says, clapping her hands.
"Katniss…S-snow?" A flash of a young child on a broadcast I saw years ago come to mind, but it couldn't possibly be the same girl. I feel the blood draining from my face, and I grip the counter to keep myself from buckling. "No. You mean-"
"Sweet girl, isn't she?" Effie says. "Oh! I'll send her flowers on your behalf," she decides, hustling out of the room while trying to decide between roses or tulips.
"Snow, Haymitch?" I think about the man who could easily make my life hell and what he has said to me earlier.
You've captured the heart of Panem. The heart… oh shit.
I was hoping to lay as low as possible but now… "Is she his daughter or something?"
"Granddaughter," he says. "I wouldn't worry too much. She's practically harmless and there's not much going on in that pretty little head if you know what I mean."
For some reason that makes me frown. Sure, she seemed a little ditzy, maybe. But to imply she's not smart at all?
"You won't see her again for a while. Cheer up, you're going home," Haymitch hits my shoulder with the bottle he somehow got a hold of during our conversation. "But uh, I would keep that on in case she watches the broadcasts," he says, pointing at the cuff that now feels like prison chains.
I would just have to hope to keep my distance. Even if Haymitch said she was harmless, she was related to Snow, and I couldn't afford to anger him any more than my actions in the arena already had.