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Lunch at the 75th tribute table was going well.
The Avoxes had just brought out various desserts, everything from biscuits to cakes to trifle. Everyone was digging in, well aware that these were likely their last few days, before beside Peeta, Finnick froze.
If Katniss focused, she could hear footsteps outside, and the murmuring of a crew that likely had cameras, talking about the best shots and whatnot. And Finnick, biscuit still in hand, flung himself under the table in a panic.
"Wha-" Peeta started, before Finnick got out a strangled "I'm not allowed to eat!"
Well that did it. Peeta seamlessly slid into Finnick's chair, sliding the plate under the table with Finnick, while Katniss moved up a seat too. Johanna seemed to be pursing her lips, while one of Mags' hands stayed staunchly under the table, but all of them were silent about this new development.
Even if they didn't like each other, the fact that Finnick was so panicked about being caught with a biscuit in hand meant that Finnick had never been at this table to begin with.
Sure enough, a camera crew came in, all disappointed to find that the favourite wasn't there.
"He said he was on a specific diet his stylist made," Johanna rolled her eyes, "Said he had to take it in his rooms. You upset? Are we not good enough for you?"
She effectively shut up any complaints, and despite the crews attempts to get them to stand up and move elsewhere, everyone stayed staunchly seated and eating, hiding Finnick between their legs. Katniss could see Johanna's hand continuously slipping under the table with treats, and coming back empty, even as she glared at every crew member there.
Eventually, they left, and a shamefaced Finnick came crawling out.
"Sorry about that," he mumbled, both Katniss and Peeta shifting back to their original seats as he sat back down next to Mags. "If I'd been caught..."
"What did you mean, you're not allowed to eat?" Katniss asked, and Finnick just looked even more miserable.
"I'm not allowed to weigh over 60kg," he explained, picking at the sweets on his plate awkwardly. "Technically they don't want me weighing over 50, but they made some adjustments for my muscle mass. So I get punished if I go over it on my weigh days."
"That's bullshit," Johanna snarled, "when's your next?"
"5 days from now. Luckily, I'll be in the arena, so I can actually eat what I want as long as I don't get caught."
"Well," Peeta actually looked angry, "stick by us. We'll hide you if another crew comes in."
And Katniss had to agree.
Katniss had gone hungry before, but it was never really by choice. The Seam didn't necessarily have the most stable supply of food, and even with the tesserae it was more akin to a plaster on a broken leg. Once she started hunting, the only times she had gone badly hungry were when the catch wasn't great, and Prim always got her food first. Even when it was her choice, it was always for Prim's benefit, and Katniss took enough to stay alive so she could keep providing for her.
She couldn't imagine going hungry, not to help Prim and not because there was no food to go around, because some Capitol elite assigned her a number and she had to stick to it. Maybe that was why he was so fond of the sugar cubes - easily smuggle-able, and easy to hide. They probably helped him put off the hunger pangs while he did the exercise required to keep that trim frame, all while eating incredibly little.
Well, maybe she was projecting a little bit. Maybe he had a small stomach, or maybe he could eat more than she anticipated. But Katniss knew, from research when making sure that herself and Prim were a healthy weight after her first games, that a man of Finnick's age should be weighing around 80kg.
It wasn't an insignificant difference.
And as Finnick rejoined the meal, the noise levels rising again now that the crew was gone and all was back to normal, Katniss found herself playing with the trifle in her bowl. She poked and prodded at it, occasionally taking tiny spoonfuls, but not much more than that.
What other secrets lay hidden in the Capitol's dark underbelly?