Our Love Could Be Lethal Act I Re-Write

Act I: Up and At 'Em

I wake up in the morning with a pounding headache, which really should be no surprise to me considering I'd had the terrible concoctions with Haymitch, followed by an excess of champagne with Finnick just hours before. Speaking of him, I look over to find him fast asleep next to me. Even in his dishevelled state, he unfairly still looks perfectly attractive. I try to get up and out of the bed, but I quickly realize that Finnick has somehow looped his arm around mine as we slept.

I slowly and carefully pull my arm out so as not to wake him, and tip-toe towards the tiny kitchen in the room to make some coffee.

I barely get to take a sip before I hear a knock on the door, and Finnick shoots up in the bed like an Academy student on inspection day, and immediately points to me. "You, bathroom, hide, now."

The imposing nature of his voice is unlike anything I've heard come from his mouth before. No hint of sarcasm, charm, or sweetness can be detected. Instead, he sounds like a commander barking orders, and I don't dare not oblige.

The rapping on the door gets louder and more insistent. My legs carry me into the bathroom but as soon as I close the door behind me, I press my ear to listen. "...that's fine Mr. Odair, please step aside." It takes me a moment but I recognize the voice as the man who's been managing my appearances in the Capitol, Plutarch Hevansbee. However, I hear several heavy footsteps enter the room, letting me know it's not just him who's entered. There are more than likely several peacekeepers with him as well. "...I'll just wait here for Ms. Jones to be done. She's in the bathroom doing her morning routine I assume?"

Knowing that there's not really an escape, I decide to at least pretend like I wasn't hiding. I open the tap ever so slightly so I get some water out without making noise and wash the residue from the eye makeup off my face, and dampen my hair so I can at least pretend to have showered.

I emerge a few moments later, and pretend to be shocked at the sight of Plutarch Hevansbee sipping coffee on the couch of our hotel room, and two peacekeepers standing by the door. "Ah, Ms. Jones. Good morning."

I make sure my smile doesn't meet my eyes to give the illusion of trying to hide my shock. "Mr. Hevansbee, to what do I owe the pleasure?"

"Well, as the outgoing victor, you and I have a small last-minute speaking engagement for you."

I narrow my eyes. "And that warrants an early morning visit why?"

Plutarch chuckles and pulls out his pocket watch for me to observe. "It's in two hours, and I would hardly call it early, it's nearly 9."

"I thought Johanna hardly had any injuries? Isn't her replay interview supposed to start at noon?"

"It was but they're encountering some...problems since she's woken up. It happens from time to time. Anyway, we've had to push it back a few hours, and who better to fill the broadcasting gap than last year's victor?"

I narrow my eyes and give a fake smile. "Lucky me."

"Yes indeed, lucky you."

"We need to get you to your prep team ASAP. They'll have a lot of work to do." I scowl, but he's already on to the next person, barking his orders. "Polonius, could you please stay here and wait for a clean-up crew? I don't want the hotel staff seeing the mess made in here." He then turns his attention onto Finnick, as if he somehow forgot he was even here, and snaps his fingers, "Oh, and you, please escort Mr. Odair through the service elevator and back to the Tribute Tower. It's imperative that he's not seen."

One of the Peacekeepers nods. "Right away, sir."

Finnick looks to me like a deer caught in the headlights as the Peacekeepers approach him, I can see it on his face that he wants to say something, wants to protest. But I shake my head. It's only another interview after all, it's not worth Finnick saying something that could potentially get him or one of his cousins back home punished. There's a time and a place to fight back, and now is not it.