𝐝𝐫𝐨𝐰𝐧𝐢𝐧𝐠 · 𝐛𝐨𝐨𝐤 𝐈

𝐜𝐡𝐚𝐩𝐭𝐞𝐫 𝐨𝐧𝐞, 𝐩𝐚𝐫𝐭 𝐭𝐰𝐨.

˜"*°•.˜"*°• chapter one •°*"˜.•°*"˜

"

ₛᵢₓ ₘₒₙₜₕₛ ₗₐₜₑᵣ

"

My eyes are stuck to the window as my home passes by in a blur. I catch glimpses of blue before it's all suddenly gone. 

We've left District Four.

The six months after I returned home from the Hunger Games passed by tauntingly slow, but not nearly slow enough. Every night, I see the games again and again. And now I'm back on the train that led me to them.

First stop: District Twelve. Finnick says its harder when you were the ones to actually kill them. Lucky for me, I wasn't the one to do the honors in this case. I remember them, though. They were both undersized, and on the younger end of the spectrum. If I had to guess, they were probably around fourteen. I only learned their names when I memorized my speeches. 

Abi Barrera. The girl. Ignatian Minero. The boy.

The speech that has been pre-written for me is careful. Conservative; completely without emotion or any real meaning. It is all just formality and fake condolences. And I hate it.

I hate how I have to do this. How I'm stuck being a puppet for the Capitol for the entirety of the rest of my life. I should know. The Games never truly end. Once you get on the train, it never stops. Each year, back for the games, whether as a mentor or a spectator. Featured all across the news during replays of the Hunger Games, year-round. 

Another thing.

Each Victor is required to choose a "talent", which is basically just a hobby that the Capitol can showcase and use for content. For example, Mags does art work. Or used to, anyway. She can't quite do anything anymore, after her stroke, what with being partially paralyzed. Matthew writes poetry. It's all quite dark. I don't think the Capitol shows any of his actual work. They write much happier things that (of course) glorify the Capitol and the Hunger Games and showcase it as Matthew's. 

Finnick, however, is a model. That's his talent. Sitting pretty for the camera, sometimes about eighty percent naked. As a matter of fact, I don't think I've ever really seen a picture of him with a shirt. 

Lucky for me, I get to join him in this escapade. I wasn't quite given a choice. It makes sense, anyway, that I'd be forced to do this, with Finnick as my brother. Doesn't mean I'm going to appreciate the opportunity, but I did see it coming.

I tear my eyes away from the window and stand up, joining Finnick and Matthew at the table. Mags has been having health issues lately, and had to stay home.

"Done moping?" Matthew asks, sounding bored.

I press my lips together.

"Matthew, give her a break," Finnick says, sounding tired.

Matthew glares at Finnick, but stays quiet after an extended and exaggerated sigh. After a moment, he says, "She at least has her speeches memorized, doesn't she?"

I give a huff and skate over Finnick. "Its been drilled into my head for the last four months. Trust me when I say I could give the speeches in my sleep."

Matthew gives a grunt and pours himself another glass of whiskey.

"Matthew, it's been thirty minutes." Finnick says, a hint of warning lacing his voice.

"Your ability to keep time is shocking. Who knew the golden boy also has a golden brain?!" Matthew asks sarcastically.

"Not me," I say under my breath.

Finnick shoots me a glare but ignores my comment. "That's your, what, fourth glass? Fifth?"

"Doesn't really matter, does it? You know, since it's none of your buisness?"

"Matthew, I would really prefer to not have to deal with you drunk this early on."

Matthew stares Finnick directly in the eyes while he throws back his whiskey in one drink. 

"Fucking hell, Matthew," Finnick snaps, snatching the glass from Matthew's grip. "Can't you just not for one fucking day?"

"I think I know my limits better than you, boy, " Matthew snarls, getting up and leaving the room surprisingly quickly for an eighty year old man.

Finnick's head thumps down on the table.

Linden walks in as Matthew leaves, bumping shoulders with him. His eyes immediately fall on Finnick. "What did I miss?"

"They both had temper tantrums," I say, rolling my eyes.

≋~≋~≋~≋~≋~≋

hey again

omg this sucks but its okay im writing again itll get better i swear

xx

maddie 

love u all