Chapter Text
I heard footsteps behind me—fast, heavy. The boys from Districts 1 and 2 were right on my heels. My legs burned, but I couldn’t stop. I couldn’t die like this.
Our arena was suspended in the sky, waterfalls cascading down to smaller islands. Far below, an endless ocean waited to swallow anything that fell.
I heard the waterfall before I saw it, and I made my choice.
Die at their hands, brutal and miserable.
Or jump.
I was a strong swimmer, but there could be rocks below—or worse. It didn’t matter. Whatever was at the bottom was better than what was behind me.
The falls came into view, roaring and endless. I was almost there when one of the boys lunged, grabbing my ankle. I kicked, hard, catching his face. He didn’t let go. I thrashed until finally breaking free, stumbling forward—only for his weight to slam into me again.
Then we were falling.
Falling.
Falling.
We hit the water with crushing force. The waterfall’s current pulled us under, dragging us down, down, down. His hands finally slipped from me. When I opened my eyes, I understood why.
He was impaled on a jagged rock. His eyes—wide, empty, lifeless—stared at me.
Someone was screaming.
I was screaming.
"Hey, hey, you're safe." A voice pulled me back. My eyes flew open. The train. Finnick. His face hovered above mine.
“Sorry," I breathed, my chest heaving as his hand rubbed slow circles on my back.
“I still get them too," he whispered.
I looked into his blue eyes, desperate to steady myself. "I don’t want to go back." My voice barely made a sound.
Finnick sighed. “I know. I’m sorry. The Capitol likes us." He didn’t need to say more. We both knew what that meant. He gave me one last reassuring pat before stepping away.
I sank back onto the plush bed, staring at the ceiling.
I had won the 68th Hunger Games. I’d been just 17, nearly 18. The Capitol had taken a liking to me right away—dragging me to their parties, parading me around like a prized possession. They hadn’t even had to wait long until I was “of age.”
Now, four years later, they’d chosen me and Finnick as mentors for the 72nd Games. The Capitol’s favorites, back in their grasp.
My Games felt like a lifetime ago, though the Capitol never let me forget.
But none of that mattered now. I had two new tributes to keep alive.
I closed my eyes and forced myself to sleep.
XXXX
Alice and Milo were our tributes this year. Finnick was currently coaching them on how to survive their first encounter with the Capitol, instructing them to smile, wave, and lay on the compliments.
That’s how Finnick and I had always survived. *Fake it till you make it.*
Alice was only 14, and Milo 16. In District 4, survival often came down to the arena. If there was water, we had a chance.
We reviewed a few more basics before the train screeched to a stop. As we exited, the familiar roar of Capitol cheers hit us.
Finnick and I stepped out first, facing a sea of glittering, painted faces. Adults and children waved posters of us, pleading for autographs. Women wept over Finnick, and men reached out to grab at me.
“I can’t wait for you to meet our tributes,” I said, my smile glued in place.
“And remember, everyone! Our top female donor gets a date with me!” Finnick added with a wink, sending a woman into a fit of swooning.
I chimed in, the routine second nature by now. “And our top male donor will get a date with me.”
The crowd erupted into cheers as Finnick introduced Alice and Milo. I wanted to shield them from the chaos, but this was part of it. They needed to play their roles, even if it was horrifying.
The teens were quickly whisked away for their "day of beauty"—hair, makeup, and clothing transformations. I hated it.
Meanwhile, Finnick and I were ushered into a lavish room filled with the Capitol elite. I scanned the crowd, recognizing other victors here as mentors.
“The more donations—” Finnick began.
“The better chance one of those kids has to survive,” I finished, my voice flat. My gaze landed on several Capitol men I already knew too well. I would use that familiarity to my advantage.
Finnick leaned in, his voice a whisper. “Stay within hearing distance. Don’t let anyone drag you off. It’s the one time we’re allowed to say no.”
That was the one relief of being a mentor. For now, the Capitol’s attention was on the tributes. Finnick and I didn’t have to entertain them—at least, not with our bodies. It almost felt freeing.
“A drink, beautiful?” A man with blue skin and yellow eyes approached me, his Capitol fashion as garish as always.
I plastered on a pout. “I’m so nervous about my tributes. I don’t know if I can.”
He leaned in eagerly. “Here, let me donate to them. It’ll make you feel better.”
I watched as he pulled out his device, entering a sum of money. But I leaned closer, my voice low. “If you donate a little more, I might find my way to you tonight.”
His eyes lit up as he retyped a larger number, completely unaware that I couldn’t have gone with him even if I’d wanted to.
“Now, let’s get you that drink.” He hooked his arm through mine and led me to the bar. I made polite conversation until my drink was done, then excused myself and moved on to the next man.
Four men. Four large donations. And I needed a break. Their hands had been all over me, petting me like some prized animal.
In the bathroom, I stared at my reflection. On the outside, I was their perfect Capitol doll. Inside, I felt dead.
“Impressive.” The voice startled me, and I jumped. I turned to see Haymitch Abernathy leaning in the doorway. His smirk was as sharp as ever, a cup of whiskey in one hand.
“Don’t bother with that fake smile. I’m a victor, remember?”
I tilted my head innocently. “Excuse me?”
“Your manipulation tactics. They won’t work on me. Don’t worry, we’ve all been there. No need to play games with other Victors.”
I stared at him, unsure how to respond. He took a long sip of his drink, his messy blonde hair and rugged demeanor somehow making him more striking.
“It’s impressive, though,” he continued. “The way you’ve got them eating out of your hand. Going for the record in donations?”
I shrugged. “It’s not hard.”
Haymitch’s smirk faded as he leaned in closer. “Ralph’s been watching you. Don’t go anywhere alone. Do not take any food or drink he offers.”
My stomach twisted. “Ralph?”
“Capitol scum. Likes his victors.”
Realization hit me like a punch. Haymitch was here because he’d noticed me wandering off alone.
“Thank you,” I said quietly.
He nodded toward the main room. “Gold couch. Don’t let him catch you by yourself.”
I followed his gaze, spotting a man lounging on a gold couch. My chest tightened.
“Thank you,” I repeated, more earnestly this time.
Haymitch gave me a small smile, his whiskey glass still in hand. “Stay with Finnick or me the rest of the night.”
I nodded, following him back into the den of vipers.