The Youngest Victor

The Parade

Your eyes follow the tribute from twelve until your carriage had rolled completely out of prep area.

You had to admit, you were a little thrown off by Peeta's compliment but you try not to dwell on it.

It was probably just his technique of psyching you out before the games had even begun, and it was surprisingly good and was definitely working.

You find yourself wincing as the horse drawn chariot wheels onto a pristine white road, blinded by the sudden noise and light.

You do your best to smile politely at the audience as you pass the 'loving' capitol, remembering to blow them kisses, that was the immediate path to adoration.

Or so that was what your mentor said.

As you rode, you couldn't help but glance back at the district twelve carriage, and to your shock, the people weren't staring at their ferocious fiery costumes but instead their eyes were glued to you.

Their faces lit up simply at the sight of your stunning outfit.

Now, as the carriages pull into the circle for the presidents speech, you could see why.

It seemed that the scrap material that you had picked up from the floor were parts of the other tribute's costumes that you had managed to incorporate into one stylish piece of artwork.

Lost in thoughts, you barely noticed the anthem ringing out as President Snow stepped up to the podium, about to deliver his well thought out speech.

He always ended up looking down on the tributes and it made your blood boil.

As you felt his steely glare target you particularly, you realised that you hated him and the game makers more than you hated the concept of the games themselves.

You were sure that the tributes were stronger than the capitol, they just haven't been given the chance to prove it.

Your mind wanders as the speech ends and the chariots wheel back into the prep area where everyone appeared to be pleased that the parade was over.

You had a free evening to spend however you wanted..

Well.. it wasn't exactly free.

You knew your mentor and stylists would want a word with you and who knew how long that would last.

You sigh, jumping from from the carriage and walking past Finnick and Katniss as you stride confidently.

As you move, Finnick catches your eye and takes the opportunity to ask you a quick question.

"Hey Y/n!" He speaks, casually.

"Yeah" You answer, at this point you could let your guard down, thinking of Finnick as a friend, associate or maybe even an ally.

"Do you wan to maybe hang out on the roof tonight with me, Katniss and a couple of others?"

You contemplate it for minute, wondering what their hidden motives could be.

But eventually, you simply just tell yourself to live a little, knowing that the chances of you being alive after the next couple of weeks were slim.

"Oh screw it, why not!" You grin before stepping out of view.

At least you had an excuse to get way from your most likely raging stylist.