Chapter Text
Edina and August didn’t have much to say about their time with the gamemakers after the fact, and Effie for the life of her could not pry more information out of them to even try to craft a compelling story for potential sponsors. Apparently, Edina had crafted a meager campfire, and August had tried and failed to decapitate a training dummy with a longsword.
“Not that it would’ve mattered,” Edina defended him, her stormcloud eyes flashing with anger. “The gamemakers weren’t even paying attention.”
“I am sure they paid enough attention to assign you both a reasonable score,” Effie said, trying to reassure her.
“They’ll probably roll a dice,” Haymitch offered with a shrug.
“Haymitch,” Effie objected with a huff, though she couldn’t remember anyone from 12 scoring higher than a 6 in recent years.
“That gives you better odds than most,” Haymitch continued, undeterred. “Twenty four kids trying to show off, it’s a long day. They tend to give the middle districts lower scores, ever notice? After the careers, it drops off, then gets sort of random towards the end. The gamemakers’ attention doesn’t matter. You know whose attention you need, and you’ll get your chance tomorrow night.”
Edina nodded, her anger steadied into something focused and utilitarian before Effie’s eyes. August sighed quietly before digging into his roast vegetables. The boy’s appetite came in waves, she’d noticed. Like his worries and adrenaline kept him from indulging until the very last moment, when his hunger won out. She’d only ever known excess, of both food and time. She pondered if she might behave similarly, in his position.
The tributes sipped hot chocolate as the scores were presented, and Effie suspected this may have been an annual tradition of Haymitch’s to keep the morale alive. As expected, the careers scored highest, then a couple standouts from the District 5 female and the District 8 male. Edina scored a 4, and August a measly 2. Despite all the buzz after their showing at the tribute parade, it did seem that the gamemakers’ attention had lapsed towards the end.
Effie wondered, with a pit in her stomach, if she would be able to find any more sponsors in the coming days. Still, she kept her tone cheery as they discussed the potential in tomorrow’s Flickerman interviews. If Effie had learned anything in her time as an atelier’s apprentice, it was how to clean a stain, how to polish, how to embellish.
Pyrite was nowhere to be found when the tributes retired to sleep, so Effie resolved to bring food and litter the next day. She didn’t realize how strange that would look to Crimson or any of the Capitol citizens they passed on the way to the tribute center in the morning. A good Capitol girl, packed up and moving in with the District trash. Somehow, she didn’t think it would help to explain to them it was only her cat cohabitating with the barbarians.
The elevator door opened to Edina and August eating breakfast alone and talking in hushed tones. Effie paused in the doorframe, then set Pyrite’s luggage down quietly, trying not to disrupt them with her presence.
“Do you think you have enough marshmallows?” Edina teased, clinking her mug of hot chocolate against the younger boy’s.
“When Haymitch told me they had different flavors, I wanted to try all of them,” August defended himself, plucking a sky blue pillow from the top of the pile. “The blueberry ones remind me of the taffy at the sweet shop down the block growing up. When I was eight, I had the biggest crush on one of the girls behind the counter, so I’d go inside every day after school, but I never bought anything, just walked around trying to think of something to make her laugh.”
“You would have a crush on Merrilee Donner,” Edina commented with a chortle.
“What does that mean?” August asked with a grin.
“Just that the rainbows, sunshine, smiley one would be your type,” Edina explained, fending off August’s rapid objections. “No, no, my first year of school I was way behind the others because nobody in the seam ever taught me to read, and Merrilee took it upon herself to be my tutor. No one asked her to, she just showed up at my lunch table one day with a grammar book and a sheet of stickers from the Hob, promising me all cheerfully that reading unlocks new opportunities. Like I ever had any opportunities.”
“You’re just allergic to kindness,” August countered before sucking down a large gulp of his hot chocolate.
“Kindness never saved us,” Edina replied with a shrug, and August looked like he wanted to argue a moment before conceding the point. “I was much more into her sister,” she continued with a shy smile. “When I was eleven, she told me my hair looked like a vulture’s nest before offering to give me a trim.”
“I never realized they were twins behind the counter at the sweet shop,” August said with a chuckle. “They always wore the same clothes, so I thought some days Merrilee was just really unhappy with me for loitering.” Edina laughed loudly at that, and Effie thought she might have the loveliest laugh of anyone she’d ever heard, or perhaps it was just so rare it felt precious to her.
“The sweets were good, though, better than these marshmallows,” August noted. “My dad used to get us a bag of taffy every year on the first day of school, at least before it closed down.”
“I never got any treats,” Edina lamented, stealing a star-shaped marshmallow from his mug. “My treat was that I didn’t have to be at home all day anymore, taking care of my ma.”
August frowned and pushed the mug closer to her, less a gesture of pity than a gesture of understanding, like they’d talked about this before, perhaps the first night on the train. “I wish I could write to my folks, tell them to look out for yours. They’ll have one less mouth to feed after all this. Maybe something good could come from it.”
“I wish I didn’t worry about her, after everything,” Edina whispered, her voice straining with the threat of tears, and Effie felt her chest tighten. “I should hate her, you know?”
“I know,” August replied. “Hard to hold onto that right now, though. Like with the end so close, you can only carry so much.”
Effie swallowed hard, like that could dissipate any of the shame rising in her throat. This was not a conversation she was meant to hear. It was the most she’d heard either of them say since the reaping, and it made her disgusted with herself to be a voyeur to such vulnerability.
She’d watched kids like this die year after year. She’d seen them cry on television and laughed with her friends about it. How could she ever be so callous? Of course these kids had crushes and bullies and difficult classes at school. Of course they had complicated families to worry about. Of course they dreaded the end. She should’ve known all along, and she didn’t deserve to realize it now, after all this time.
She carefully excused herself without a sound and found her way woozily up the stairwell to the rooftop garden, where the Capitol skyline suddenly seemed so small. She picked up a fallen rose and let out a strained breath as she let the familiar separation pull her away from her skin. It was the only way she could bear the blow.
Effie hadn’t overheard anything. Of course not. They were just district kids, too dull and inept to do anything but cower. Effie would never cower. She was nothing like them. She would never be in their position. In fact, she was good to offer her assistance like this. She was safe, and she was nothing like them. She tucked the wilted rose back into the bush.