Our Love Could Be Lethal Act I Re-Write

Act I: Rebel Buster

As we ascend to our room in the elevator. I come to the very sudden realization, that this time, there will be no silver lining. No. Instead, it's lined with poison. It won't kill you outright, but it will eat away at you until you wish you were.

I haven't stopped anyone from buying a victor, or put away a future Gamemaker, or owner of a company that exploits the districts. I put someone away that was siphoning money for a rebellion. I'll be responsible for the death of a Capitol citizen—maybe the only one like him who ever existed—who wanted to help kids like me and put an end to the Games.

And now that they have him, and have seized his funds, he'll disappear. The Peacekeepers will make sure of that. They're quite used to that kind of work.

In that moment, my brain feels like it's being snapped by a rubber band as if to remind me that my kill count has just clicked up from eight to ten. I am responsible for the deaths of ten people.

But a question plugs at the back of my mind, how many more people will have to die so I can live? Another voice answers back, as many as it takes.

Both Theseus and I enter the room, but to my surprise, no one else is there with us. I start to panic. Is this it? Is this how it happens? Snow and Plutarch lure you in with false alternatives and trick you?

My entire body tenses up and my head starts to do calculations. I'm closer to the door than he is, and I'm probably much faster too. I know I could make it out into the hallway, but there's no way I'd make it anywhere far without a Peacekeeper cornering me. The other exit option is the window. We're a good number of floors up, so if you jump Octavia, you're going to die, I tell myself. Or maybe I stay here and try to endure it all?

He takes off his shoes and his suit jacket, and I take an instinctive step backward. "Relax," he says as he undoes his tie. "You're not my type. And even if you were, you're way too young for me."

I blink in surprise. "I—what?"

"My type looks a lot more like that Peacekeeper of yours, Ast or whatever his name is?"

My face flushes with relief. "Oh."

"I think it would also be awkward to do it in front of my uncle."

"Wait—wha—"

He opens an adjoining door to reveal Plutarch and the others on the other side, including all the Peacekeepers. We catch the tail end of him saying something to the Peacekeepers in particular.

"....you will be putting in your reports exactly what I tell you too. This is the security level 11 clearance, and no one in the districts has free access clearance to anything remotely near that high, so if people start digging around about this, you bring it directly to me. Understood?"

"Understood, sir," they chorus. I catch a glimpse of Aleksander's eye to find that he's looking me over in concern before he catches me looking at him and averts his eyes.

Plutarch finally turns to acknowledge us entering. "Ah, there they are. The star of the show....and my nephew."

If I was drinking something, I would've had to spit it out. The way Theseus' face deflates at Plutarch's comment makes me want to figure out how to get under his skin like that.

Plutarch walks over to shake my hand and then snubs his nephew, instead walking away to go back to his tablet on the desk. I resist the urge to give Theseus a smug look and rub it in until I hear him let out a short huff, at which point I let it out.

I look around the room to see Crysana and Poppy chatting away in the corner; they both look a little star-struck because every so often one of them will peek over their shoulders to take a quick look at him before turning away. It makes sense; he probably is a sort of celebrity to them as a former Gamemmaker.