𝗟𝗜𝗧𝗧𝗟𝗘 𝗦𝗣𝗔𝗥𝗞 ᐅ 𝙛𝙞𝙣𝙣𝙞𝙘𝙠 𝙤𝙙𝙖𝙞𝙧

𝙀𝙇𝙀𝙑𝙀𝙉

⌌⊱⇱⊶⊷⊶⊷⊶⊷⊶⊷⊷⊶⊰⌍
And even though this was
all an act, I couldn't help
but feel like it was real.
⌎⊱⊶⊷⊶⊷⊶⊷⊶⊷⊷⊶⇲⊰⌏

The ballroom in District Nine was nothing short of magnificent — golden floral decorations adorned the polished stone walls and wrapped around the ceiling in mesmerising shapes and patterns. Large plants were dotted around the room, which calmed me slightly as I walked into the room, my crimson dress hugging my body.

Jameson and Yvette were at my side, and so the dozens of Capitol officials staring at me in awe didn't seem so intimidating anymore. At first, I was inclined to feel overwhelmed, letting the sheer volume of the people grasping for my attention consume me, but now it was an instinct to talk to them. Make small talk. Smile and thank them, even though they did nothing to help me or the struggling children of Panem.

The music was beautiful and slow, a melody that relaxed me as I conversed robotically to a woman with whiskers and a cat tail.

Without meaning to, I started to scan the room for a familiar face; Finnick. Our talk two nights ago completely warped my perspective of him — he wasn't shallow or unempathetic, in fact he was the opposite. The complete opposite. One thing that interaction taught me is that I should never jump to conclusions when I met people. In the arena, that was something I had to do to survive. I had to make decisions in the moment about whether they would kill me. If not, run. If they do, go for the kill.

That behaviour continued after the Games; I decided whether someone was a threat or not at first glance, and of course, Finnick posed a major threat. But now I wasn't so sure about that. And so as I talked to new people, I didn't judge them. I didn't take them at face value and prescribe that as their personality, I simply enjoyed whatever parts of the conversation I could.

And with Finnick, I seemed to enjoy all of it.

I fell into a pool of deep blue as I caught Finnick's gaze from across the room — he'd already been looking at me. He was wearing a pastel yellow suit, which made his bright eyes distinguishable from a mile away. For a reason unknown to me, my posture relaxed as Capitol officials continued to rattle on, but I wasn't focused on them, rather the confusing boy with a smile on his face. I'm not sure how long we held eye contact, but I couldn't bring myself to turn away from him, even when he apologised to the ladies he was speaking to and weaved through the crowds towards me.

"Mind if I steal the Victor?" Finnick asked with a smile which was nothing short of charming.

"Of course not," the man named Xio said with a polite nod of the head before he left.

And now was when I tore my gaze from his and took it upon myself to glance at the twirling dancers in the centre of the floor, spinning with their partners in their arms. Up on the screens dotted around the room were clips from my Games. I didn't look. I didn't want to see Helia, or Caspian or even Beryl. I could still feel her blood splattering across my face; I could still taste the warm metal on my tongue.

And people were pointing and laughing, recalling the events that they witnessed with the sort of childhood nostalgia one might experience with a toy, or a teddy bear.

But standing next to someone I trusted, even though I told myself that trust was out of necessity and not genuine, calmed me. I didn't want to drink to drown out my sorrows, because Finnick grounded me. He reminded me of my purpose. To trick the Capitol. I almost felt smug standing there as they laughed over dead bodies, because I was going to use them to get what I wanted. And in a way, watching them say these horrific things was almost worth it.