Finnick Odair's Story: Dark Secrets (The Hunger Games Fanfiction)

Without Her / Without Him

Finnick's POV:

The day after my goodbye to Annie follows the same pattern as it did before I ran away. Wake up, go to the gym, meet some businessmen or do a photo shoot, have a posh dinner with complete strangers and act like I care, get drunk, sleep with someone, go home, have nightmares. The cycle is continuous and painful, and never once do I take my mind off Annie.

I try to stop drinking but everything seems so much worse now. When I'm fucking another person, I try to imagine that it's Annie, but sweet, innocent Annie would never pin me to the wall or put her hands round my neck.

Weeks pass, and I don't even see Johanna. It's just like before, when I searched for ages to find her, except this time it seems as if she has completely vanished. Eli and Tricia don't return either, presumably sacked from their job or relocated elsewhere, as far away from me as possible. In short, I have no one, no one at all.

I won't be mentoring this year's tributes, Snow told me. Relieved, I breathed a sigh of happiness when he informed me that I wasn't really trustworthy enough to be a mentor. Ray and Emerald are going to help the new victims instead. At least Ray's ultimatum was never fulfilled, the Peacekeepers arrived before the two days he gave me were over, so I'm not bitter.

It's my nineteenth birthday soon, and another party is being planned. I don't think I'm going to enjoy it, but this is what the Capitol expects from me. I buy a new blue suit and matching brown brogues, staying clear of any tight-fitting bodysuits that my new stylists try to make me wear.

The night of the party soon arrives in a blur of countless days and sleepless nights. It's as if I'm programmed to autopilot, acting happily and friendly as if by default. Inside, my brain is loud and hurting, but I know I need to try and enjoy myself tonight, under Snow's careful watch.

"Finnick!" calls my new stylist from downstairs. "Time to leave!"

Groaning, I make my way downstairs and follow my prep team out of the house. As I exit, cameras flash in my eyes and make small, glowing dots dance around my vision. Obligingly, I give them one smile before climbing into a new car, bought specially for this event. Champagne glasses, filled to the brim with sparkly, bubbling alcohol, are passed around and I drink mine within twenty seconds, earning me a stern look from my stylist. Light-headed after five more glasses, I'm feeling much more optimistic about the party.

I just wish Annie was here to enjoy it with me.

Politely, I smile and take photos with complete strangers throughout the night. When I eventually manage to escape, I find a quiet corner and sit down, breathing slowly. The music is loud and the bass bounces through my entire body. Everyone is dancing except me, even though I feel very drunk.

"Well, fancy seeing you here, birthday boy," a familiar voice says, and my trance is broken as I look up to see the wicked smile of Johanna gazing down at me.

Overwhelmed, I stand up and hug her tightly, relieved to have one person at the party who I actually know and like. The champagne has definitely muddled up my brain as we sit down together at a solitary table, hoping that no one bothers us.

"Where the fuck have you been?" I ask in amazement. I sent her an invite, but had no idea if it would actually reach her, and she didn't respond.

"Up to the usual antics," she shrugs. "I'm not living with Victor anymore, but he's seen me a few times since. I have my own house, it's fantastic."

She fiddles with her pinned-back hair as she talks. It has been styled in an intricate bun on top of her head. With one swift movement, she pulls out a hair slide and her silky hair falls from the bun into wavy curls across her shoulders. Her dress clings to every pore and as usual, I am captivated by her seemingly never-ending legs.