Ice Cold Fire// F. Odair

14

Today was the first day of the Victory Tour.

My residual anger from the fight with Finnick days ago had morphed me to have a cold, icy demeanor that caught everyone off guard. I had suddenly lost the once happy smiles and playful attitude, and suddenly I had replaced it with the girl who was in the arena in the games. But I had no time to dwell on much today.

It was the morning of the first day of the Victory Tour.

Everyone was running around, with everyone in a whirlwind of activity, with people bustling around, packing my bags, and orchestrating every detail of the tour. The forced cheerfulness and meticulous attention to appearances only added to my already foul mood. The Capitol, determined to present me as their glittering puppet with stupid colored red eyelashes or the tiniest red streaks waving down my hair, as they squeezed me into a long red dress adorned with thousands of sparkling stones on the bodice. It was way too formal for me to get on a train, but it was Snow's order according to the people who were dressing me up.

Might I add it is a corset bodice with millions of tight straps suffocating my ribcage right now?

As my bags were being loaded onto the car that would take me to the train, a sense of unease settled in the pit of my stomach. I knew that before departing, I would have to meet with President Snow—a meeting that filled me with a mixture of fear and dread. His presence loomed over me like a shadow, like a wolf waiting to catch its prey. It was absolutely overwhelming knowing I had his eyes on me all the time, especially now that the tour was beginning.

As I walked down the hallways towards Snow, his imposing figure was waiting for me in the doorway by the car that would transport me to the train. As I reached the doorway, Snow's cold gaze met mine, "Have fun on the tour with Finnick," he remarked, his tone laced with a hint of malice. "But remember, when you return, it will be time for you to embrace your duties in the Capitol." A cold shiver ran down my spine at the mention of these capital duties again. Finnick had gotten furious at the mention of it, but I was still confused as to why Snow kept repeating it to me so much, as if he were taunting me.

What was so bad about working in the capital? I had already survived the games, which were worse than anything imaginable.

I simply smiled and nodded, then got into the car, as my stylists soon followed behind and got into the huge SUV as well, helping me get my dress inside and making sure I didn't get it dirty. As the door closed behind them and I looked outside, Snow simply had a stone faced smile on his lips, as he nodded and shortly waved goodbye, as the car slowly began to move, Snow's face disappearing from my view.

As I arrived at the train station, the Capitol's people greeted me with a roar of applause and yells. Hundreds of men and women lined the platform with their faces painted with joy and admiration, and their voices rose in a thunderous chorus of cheering.

Stepping out of the car, I was overwhelmed by the crowd's excitement, their applause resonating through the air and sending thrills down my spine. It seemed odd to be greeted with such intense excitement by those who had relished in the spectacle of the Hunger Games. Yet it was all eerie. The way they all were there to see me leave for a tour where I would be talking about the deaths of innocent children I had mostly killed in the arena.

My urge of thrill and slight joy in the attention had left my mind not even as fast as I had even thought of it.

As I passed through the crowd, with my head held high and my gaze fixed straight ahead, I made a concerted effort to ignore the bustle of activity around me. The hands pushing presents and symbols of admiration at me appeared to fade into the background, offering nothing more than diversions in the sea of faces.

I refused to look at the people with their outstretched hands or expectant looks, even as their applause and congratulations went unheard. Behind the appearance of calm, a storm of conflicting emotions and memories raged within me, threatening to engulf me.

As I stood on the train station, surrounded by applauding fans, a rush of rage and resentment rose within me, ready to burst over. Tears of rage welled up in my eyes, blazing with a mute ferocity behind the mask of the fakest grin I'd ever worn. Turning back to enter the train, the open door urging me onward, a single red rose dropped at my feet, my breath suddenly hitching, as my mind flashed to before my games, when I walked down this same path with Clay.

I felt myself shaking in anger and fear.

Stooping down to pick up the rose, I forced a smile despite the terrible taste of betrayal on my lips. As the capital cheers echoed louder at the action, I wordlessly turned and walked inside the train doors, then felt them swiftly close behind me. Looking at the rose in my hand, I slowly felt more angry the more I stared at it, not realizing I was cruising the petals.

Suddenly the petals had fallen off in tiny pieces on the floor and all that was left was the hollow stem. Dropping it on the floor as well, I wordlessly walked down the hallway and to a room that seemed to be my room. Waltzing straight into the room, I angrily screamed and grabbed the nearest object, which was a lamp. Throwing it at the wall, the lamp shattered, as the loud noise echoed in the silent room.

As the broken pieces of glass laid at my feet, the petals in the hall laid on the floor untouched, with the hollow stem broken on the ground.

Flowers are worthless when there's only a hollow stem left. Nothing to fix about tiny broken petals on the cold floor, 

...right? 

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Hello everyone I'm back! I honestly lost all motivation on this book everyone so updates will be very slow. Thank you for 18k!!!