The End of Innocence: The 72nd Annual Hunger Games

Crowning The Victor

"This year's Hunger Games, has produced our Great Nation's youngest Victor..." The President's voice booms throughout The Avenue Of The Tributes. We're up on the balcony where he thanked us for our sacrifice only two weeks ago. The crowd below us stays silent. These are words that go down in history every year. I'm behind him, his back is to me. Mandrel, Treena, Ami and Lesa's stylists all stand to the left and right of me. They were all given small medallions for helping The Victor through this year's event. All The President did was shake their hands and nod. He hasn't made eye contact with me yet, he has to save it for The Crowning.

Beside him, is a pillar with a pillow that has my Crown on it. A symbol to show my success. I wonder if The President even cares that he has given this Crown to over 70 Tributes. Broken, tired, depressed Victors. Will I be one? I say that's a bet people will have at home, considering half of District 9's Victors are Morphlings or addicted to drink, or even worse. Of course, they're all forgotten about so they don't have to look good for the cameras. The Capitol has given up on them. When will I be given up on?

"... This year, we have seen... So many faces step forward and take their friend's or family's place for this years Games. But in the end, only one brave face triumphed. Let us all rise, and give our thanks, and love, for this years Victor, Max Reynald!"

Mandrel pushes me slightly to walk forward. My Token swings slightly left to right as I walk with a confident stride towards him, he still doesn't look back. The crowd belows below us and I can feel their voices echoing throughout the entire city. This time, for my final Public Show, I'm wearing a nice "laid back cardigan, to show them that you knew you'd come out as Victor" as Ami said, and comfortable jeans. Nothing major, enough to tell him that I don't really care. Despite herself and Treena wearing ridiculous outfits, they insisted I must be done up appropriately for this event. This is the last event till the Victory Tour. Then of course a few months later, the Games begin again.

The crowd below me hollers harder than they did at the Interviews, over fifty-thousand people are here to see me getting a simple crown on my head. That's it. The ticket cost is beyond any price I'd think to offer for something as simple as this. Each step I take, I make sure I do it with precision. For the first time ever, The President lays eyes with me.

The sense of calmness comes across him, but it's hidden behind that poker face mask of his. His beard resembles snow, which is why I get people think it's ironic. He finally smiles, his perfect teeth show, teeth he clearly got done up. His face is pulled back too, nothing about him is natural. He is over 80 years old but somehow resembles someone in their late 50/60's. He puts his palm out and I'm forced to shake it. His sturdy grip against my weak hand questions my cockiness and false sense of dominance above everyone else. 

"Congratulations." He whispers to me. His deep voice is almost hypnotic. "It looked like you tried your best in that Arena, hmm?"

"I did, sir. Thank you." I say calmly.

I walk up right beside him and overlook the crowd. They all put their fists in the air and throw flowers that land nowhere near where I am. He smiles again and then walks over to the podium that holds my crown. He walks back to me and places the crown on my head. The crowd scream even harder. "I bet your District is very proud of you for having the youngest Victor to date."

"I'm sure they are, sir. Thank you for this opportunity." I smile, and I know he knows this tone and attitude towards him is fake.

He leans in close to my ear and I wince because I think he's going to hit me. The smell of roses overpowers me, and his breath smells like death. "Make sure you do not step out of line, Mr Reynald. Please, for your own sake, do not think you are untouchable."