Seafoam and Stars

▬▬ 𝟎𝟔 ∙ 𝗙𝗮𝗶𝗿𝘆𝘁𝗮❙𝗲

･ ｡ﾟ☆: *.☽

˚✩ ⋆｡ ✩┊ 𝐒𝐞𝐚𝐟𝐨𝐚𝐦 𝐚𝐧𝐝 𝐒𝐭𝐚𝐫𝐬 ┊✦ ˚ · .

▬▬ 06 ∙ 𝙵𝚊𝚒𝚛𝚢𝚝𝚊𝚕𝚎

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WE BEGIN to talk strategy at breakfast, going over how to charm the crowds and draw in sponsors during the Tribute Parade. Brennan and Nova stop eating, even though I can tell it pains Brennan to have to stop mid-way through consuming what's probably his sixth pastry.

We—and by we, I most definitely don't mean we—start with angles, since that's important from the minute they step out of the train into the Capitol to the moment they leave the arena. If they become a victor, their persona follows them long after their win, throughout their lives until the Capitol forgets you or until you die.

And if you die in the arena...

Finnick's much better at explaining this than I am, not to mention I would have probably cracked seeing their faces when we told them how they had to act at all times while the cameras are on them.

Brennan would take the usual route for younger tributes—innocent, but still a force to be reckoned with, still fighting to get home even with their young age.

But Nova... Nova's the same age I was when I was reaped, the same age I was when I had my innocence taken away from me, when I won my Games and was enchained to the Capitol for the rest of my life. Part of me doesn't want her to suffer the same fate as me, but that would mean not living. That would mean setting her up to die in the arena so she doesn't have a life in the Capitol after it.

Even if Finnick's her main mentor, sometimes we work together to make decisions, and angles are usually one of them. I can't do that to a child. I can't pretend that I don't loathe the fact that she would be like me—or worse, like Johanna, bitter and alone—if she won. I also can't pretend that I won't do everything in my power to give them both a fighting chance and get one of them out. If that means sitting quietly while Finnick suggests the fate placed upon all of the desirable tributes, if I have to hold myself back from hugging her as she nods, lips trembling like she's trying not to cry, then so be it.

So be it...

Sometimes we must do whatever it takes. But sometimes, whatever it takes is too much to ask.

✯✯✯

There are three things that I look forward to every year during the Games—seeing Aqua, talking to Johanna, and being alone with Finnick. Now that Aqua's been replaced by a new stylist and I can hardly stand being in the same room as Finnick, I'm more excited to see Johanna than usual. Sure, the other victors are also my friends and we also talk, but not nearly as much as Johanna.

Plus, she never fails to find a new way to amuse me.

I wait in my room as everyone else gets ready to go and the Capitolites are ready for us, pacing. My hands itch to dial the phone, but she's either sleeping or in the Capitol already, and I wouldn't want to wake her up if it is the former. If there's one thing I know, it's that victors never get the sleep they should. I wring my hands, wondering if it would hurt if I yanked my fingers out, then try. I find that I can't, but it's a good activity for my hands to do that isn't self-destructive.

Moxie calls everyone to the exit half an hour later, and the platform that was previously empty is now filled with the usual Capitolites pushing and shoving each other to get a glimpse of us as we approach the windows. Peacekeepers stand on the sides, ready to break up any fights, but they're much more lenient than the Peacekeepers in the districts would have been had they seen such a tumultuous crowd forming.