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“You know, I really respected you.” She sat heavily beside him and really wished she had a drink to make this easier. “You were always the best of us, Finn. It’s a real shame.”
“Oh, don’t be like that, doll.” He leaned into her side, poking and prodding at every button he knew too well. “I’ll always be the best of us.”
Cashmere rolled her eyes. Deep down, she knew it was true. Won at fourteen before he had a chance to really feel like a Career. Always kept immaculate composure no matter what, or who, Snow threw at him. Sacrificed himself to protect others time and time again and always without question. He was nothing like what he should have been and he was better off for it.
“Just promise me, when it all comes down, you’ll make it quick. For both of us.” He didn’t need a single look or change of intonation to understand who the ‘us’ was. Everyone in Panem likely knew that she did anything and everything for Gloss. Most of Panem would never know what that truly entailed. Erasing the disgust that plagued her last eleven years, Cashmere looked over at Finnick. “And don’t give me some hopeful bullshit. I know how this’ll go.”
“It’s different this year.” Finnick’s voice was eerily quiet and far too confident. “Please, just stay out of our way and we’ll leave you alone, too.”
“That’s not how that works.” They may no longer have been allies but Finnick wasn’t stupid enough to think he could get away with trying to game the Careers, was he? She thought of Gloss and Enobaria and even that big fucking asshole Brutus. “We won’t be able to just avoid you, Finn. You know they won’t allow it.”
The ‘they’ was ambiguous and she figured that was on purpose. Not only would Enobaria and Brutus never tolerate a peaceful Career pack, the Gamemakers surely wouldn’t either. Cashmere and Gloss might have been able to pass it off on their own but she didn’t want to lose Enobaria to do it. Brutus was a lost cause as it stood, but still a damn good ally as annoying as it was to realize.
“We’ve got something in the works, Cash.” Finnick turned towards her on their heavy couch, so close she could practically taste toothpaste on his breath. “You just have to trust me.”
I do trust you, she wanted to tell him. After ten years with him in their horrible ‘profession’ in the Capitol, of course she trusted him. She’d never trust him like she could trust Gloss but he was as close to a brother as anyone could be. She trusted his self-preservation over his willingness to save her, though. I can’t trust you when it’s you or me, Finn. You know that. Making a show for Capitolite scum and trusting him to treat her with respect was very different from trusting him to save her in the arena. We aren’t even allies. No, I can’t trust that.
“Are you going to tell me or just throw empty promises my way until I shut up?” Her mind wandered to Gloss. He was saying his goodbyes, she supposed. That was the one good thing about being tributes again, they weren’t allowed to leave the Center and, thus, couldn’t be called to a Capitolite’s bed. “Finn, I’m waiting.”
“We have plans to get more than just one Victor-”
“You really think Snow’s gonna make that mistake again?” She cut him off with a glare. Thinking of Katniss and Peeta, she felt her stomach turn. They’re safe because they’re in love. She wanted to scream and punch and maybe even cry. What if I was in love? What if I wanted to be left alone?
Finnick gave her one of his classic smirks, a wry smile with so much unspoken mischief in his eyes. “Not a Victor, then. But a few survivors? No crowning. Just…an escape.”
She considered those words for a while in silence. He was all too happy to let her. Not a Victor, just survivors. So like every other year? No, she knew that wasn’t what he meant. Multiple survivors. More than one of us out of that arena. It felt stupid to even consider. To even hope for. Since when do we ever get what we deserve?
“What does that mean for us, then?” She scoffed and sat back away from him again. “I don’t know what these fancy plans are but I know they will never include two District One sluts famous for whoring themselves to the Capitol for some basic appreciation. That’s all they know us for Finn. Who’s gonna save that?”
“The Mockingjay might. If you play your cards right.”
The offer hung in the air. Dangling in front of her face and mocking her. Mockingjay, indeed.
“Oh, a rebel plot? So I just have to grovel at Katniss’ feet to save my life? And you think she’ll like us any more than the Capitol? The Capitol sees pretty faces and useful bodies. The Districts? Capitol wannabes who’ll never admit they’re District trash like everyone else. They wouldn’t save us in a million years-”
“They would. If I told them to.” Finnick was so annoyingly naive sometimes. Usually it was endearing but tonight it made Cashmere want to bash his head in. She tried not to imagine it but that Career training was one hell of a drug sometimes. “I’ve got a lot of sway, you know.”
“You think you have a lot of sway, Finn, but you’re still going in that arena, aren’t you?” He pursed his lips and looked away. “What’s the plan, then? You’re gonna try to break out of the arena in your little pack of four? Is Mags gonna just perfectly weave you a net to climb to the top or is Katniss gonna shoot an arrow into the keyhole just right and then-”
Finnick cut her off like he was impatient, sick of her. “We’ve got our plans, okay. But you can be a part of them if you play your part-”
She interrupted him just as quickly. “No, I can’t. I’m not doing anything without Gloss and we can’t get away from Two long enough to be much use. We’re goners, Finn, can’t you see?” He really wanted to argue. She could see it on his creased face and pouting lips that he wanted to argue. But he knew she was right. That was clear as crystal.
They sat in silence for a while. The weight of this week, of reuniting with old friends and new just to realize she’d either have to kill or outlive them if she ever hoped to get out of the arena -something she wouldn’t be able to do without Gloss- was fucking killing her. Having to pretend to be friends with Brutus after everything he’d done to her. Having to act like she wasn’t crushed losing Finn from their alliance. Even being upstaged by Katniss Everdeen, that closed-off little nobody, fucking hurt her.
“I just wanted to say goodbye, Finn. Just promise me you’ll make it quick.” She went to stand but found her feet frozen right beside the strange outdoor couch on the rooftop. “But if you get the chance to take Brutus out, you can make that one hurt.”
He gave her a little smirk as if he was in on her joke but there was a question in his eyes. What did he do to you? The boy, no man, from Four asked in just a look. She shook her head.
“Okay, fine, don’t believe me.” Finnick rose, too, and went to hug her. She embraced him and felt her heart shatter. He smelled like he always did and felt like he always did but this would be the last time she’d ever know that. Ever truly know Finnick Odair. “But just try to make it through night three, okay? No stupid suicides or reckless plans, yeah? You’ll see.”
“Even if it works out how you want on this magical night three,” she started with her hands still firmly around him, “ you’ll see that we won’t be and will never be the priority. Whoever your friends are aren’t going to save to District One whores. Not with our reputations.” And then what? Some of them get rescued and the rest of us are left behind? She found herself wondering if Snow would continue the Games as usual without the other participants. Maybe even throw in some body doubles just to kill them immediately in some suspiciously hard to see ways. She imagined being the last ones left with Brutus, Enobaria, and her own brother. That was a worse fate, she decided.
“Cash. I just…I wanted to thank you. For everything.” He pulled away by just an inch, just enough to meet her eyes. “I wouldn’t have made it without you. Thank you.”
“You had plenty more than just me,” she teased back. She kissed his brow and tried to memorize the smell of his hair one last time. “But I’m glad I could be there to watch you grow up. I’m so proud of you. And I do respect you, you know?” He chuckled, soft and weak. She could hear his heart breaking just like hers was.
“Goodbye, Cashmere.”
“Goodbye, Finnick.”
She left him on the rooftop and went to find the only other person she felt close enough to deserve a true send off. She’d see her in the arena. They were allies, after all. But this was the only time she felt she could truly have this heart-to-heart without Brutus there to ruin it.
He was there to ruin it, if only for a minute. She stepped into Two’s apartment to see him on the couch beside their Mentor. A Mentor for Brutus? She wanted to scoff at the idea. “Is En here?” Both men looked her up and down and saw only a meal. “My eyes are up here, assholes. Is Enobaria in the apartment or not?” She asked it more firmly the second time.
Brutus sighed, called for his district partner who appeared from around the corner Cashmere knew to be her bedroom, and made a face as they hugged. “Not very friendly for someone who’s supposed to have my back,” she spat as she turned to face him. “You can always just use your words, you know? Tell me that big bad Brutus wants to go at it alone and I’ll fucking let you. I’d be happy to, honestly.”
“Cash…” Enobaria said softly, almost a warning. She’d never been afraid of Brutus, not by a longshot, but she was careful of making him volatile.
“I wish I could, too, doll.” Cashmere rolled her eyes immediately at that fucking pet name. “But you and I are stuck together a little longer. Who knows, maybe I’ll take you out sooner rather than later. Then we won’t have to pretend to like each other for long, huh?”
“Oh, you like plenty of me,” she bit back with ease. “Just didn’t like that I started to say ‘no,’ I guess. Fine, we’re still allies. The least you could do is stop staring at me like that and pretend we get along. Sponsors can read your shitty body language a mile away, you know? They’re not gonna like it if you look more willing to kill me than fight anyone else.”
“What did you come by for?” Enobaria spoke up, driving through the tension like cutting into a block of stone. She seemed just as angry at Cashmere as Brutus and that alone made Cashmere feel betrayed.
She wanted to talk without an audience, though, and held herself together. “Needed to talk. In private.” En obliged immediately. Whether she was happy to be rid of the stress of her two allies fighting so openly or just happy for any distraction on what could be the last night of her life, Cashmere couldn’t tell. She felt the same way, whatever it was.
“What’s up?” Enobaria settled on her bed and Cashmere settled beside her. For once, Rhubae was nowhere to be seen. That might have been concerning if she couldn’t hear a shower running behind the door across from them.
“I’m saying goodbye to anyone who means anything to me.” Cashmere settled beside her and looked the room over. Decorated so perfectly for the persona of Enobaria Fairsmith but not in a way that the real Enobaria would have ever chosen. At least Rhubae likes purple, she wanted to tease. The knives and teeth are definitely overkill for anyone, though. “And I wanted to tell you that I’m rooting for you the most.”
“We have an entire arena to get through before we have to say goodbye,” En said stubbornly. Cashmere made a face, a clear admission that she didn’t see it the same way. “And what do you mean you’re ‘rooting for me?’ You’ve got yourself and Gloss to worry about-”
“And we’re not getting out. We’ve come to terms with it. It’s okay, I promise. But I want you to get out. We’ll do everything we can to make sure of it.”
“Oh, he’s in on this, is he?” The shower cut off in the other room. They only had a few minutes before Cashmere would feel too awkward to truly open up again. She nodded and told Enobaria that they’d agree to it. They’d make it as far as they could just to get her out. “Not rooting for Brutus, I guess?”
Cashmere rolled her eyes and let out a laugh. It wasn’t forced but wasn’t the most natural of laughs either. It felt nice, in a way, though. She felt lighter for a bit. “He’d want you to get out, too, you know?”
“Oh, I know. He won’t shut up about it,” En said, like she was guilty to admit it. “‘If it’s not me, it better be you.’ And going on and on about being so proud to have Mentored with me. Or even Mentored me. All that stuff. He does have a heart, I promise.”
“It’s just buried kinda deep in there, isn’t it?” Cashmere thought about that big, horrible man and wondered how she could have ever tolerated him enough to take him to bed. Drugs, that’s how. He knew it, too. That was the worst part. “Finn told me something kinda important. If we can make it to day three, he said we’d…um, we’d get out.”
Enobaria scoffed so loudly and so quickly she seemed to have startled herself. She recovered, that signature glare setting on her face like it always did in public. Cashmere saw through it like she always did. “Get out? What, do they have an escape plan or something?”
Cashmere’s expression didn’t change. That clued in the Victor from Two well enough. “Oh, and how serious did he sound?” She paused. “You don’t think it could be a trap, do you?”
“Not from Finn,” she said softly. “Maybe if Brutus had told me I would’ve thought that, but not Finn. He sounds very serious. I told him it’s useless for me and Gloss but I didn’t tell him that I’d tell you. You deserve to know.”
Enobaria gave her a look, truly studying her. “If there is an escape plan, we could all get out.”
“Oh, so you finally got that Capitol punch out of your system?” Cashmere laughed and hoped it wouldn’t sound too cruel. “You actually want to do something other than win? That’s new.”
“That shit’s been out of me since the first night Snow gave me to whoever the fuck Minister of whatever the fuck. He could’ve had a perfect little jabberjay to spout whatever propaganda he wanted if he just acted like he cared instead of constantly trying to knock me down. I learned my lessons and I still got more and more of them. Doesn’t exactly inspire loyalty, now does it?”
“That it does not.” Cashmere scoffed at the idea of President Snow. “I don’t think we’ll get that far, him and I, but we’re going to make damn sure you do. I told Finn as much…kinda.” The mystery lingered between them. Rhubae came out in a fluffy purple robe, hair toweled up on her head, scowling at the sight of them. “She’s not my type, stop trying to act like I’m gonna steal her.”
The Victor from the year before Enobaria’s narrowed her eyes. Almost as soon as she had, though, she was smiling with that perfect mix of danger and flirtation. “Oh, I’m not worried. I know your type, Cash,” she sing-songed as she settled into the bed beside Enobaria. Cashmere found her lips pursing, refusing to truly acknowledge that statement. I have no type, she wanted to correct, just one brother that I really wish I could love normally again. She didn’t want to think about all of that. Sighing, she moved off of the bed. “What, did I chase you off with that? Sorry if that was too much but, come on, you’re a fucking Victor!”
“No, it’s not you. I just said what I needed to say and now I’ve got to go. I’ve got a few more goodbyes to get through tonight.” Cashmere went for the door and tried not to look back. I’ll see En tomorrow in whatever that arena ends up being. But we won’t get to be honest ever again, not really. “Goodbye, Rhubae. Can you tell my mom I love her when you get back?”
“Of course.” Rhubae faltered, silent. She seemed to take a while to compose herself. “Or maybe you can tell her when you get back, huh?” The room was eager to ignore the implications of that sentence. If Cashmere got back, as far as Rhubae knew, that would mean Enobaria hadn’t. None of them could afford to truly think about winning.
“I’m not coming back without Gloss.” Cashmere reached for the door’s handle and felt the cold metal against the pads of her fingers. It brought her back for just a flash of her first year. Trying to run from some terrifying pair of men Snow had sicked upon her like dogs. She’d reached for a doorknob just like this one but she hadn’t be allowed to leave until they were done with her that night. “I’m getting your girl out, though. I promise.”
With that she left. She couldn’t bear to argue another time about the fact that she refused to win a second crown if she had to do it without Gloss. That would never happen and she’d never want it to. Brutus and his Mentor buddy, fuck if she could remember his name, watched her leave. She could have sworn she heard at least one of them make a comment about her outfit, not that she really cared.
Haymitch was walking across Two’s balcony at record speed. She was caught only briefly thinking it was entirely strange behavior before she decided to blame it on the alcohol. Or the rebel plot. She almost laughed out loud at the idea. If anyone had a reason to betray Snow, it was the Victor from Twelve who’d lost everything despite trying his hardest to appease his President and the Capitol at large.
“Abernathy,” she called out a bit too softly. She called out a second time. The man was stark sober for maybe the first time she’d ever witnessed with her own eyes. He smiled awkwardly at her, like he wasn’t sure what to say. “I’m making the rounds, saying goodbye and all.”
“That’s very sweet of you,” he said in return. He almost sounded patronizing until she saw that broken-hearted look in his eyes. “I guess there’s a goodbye for me, too?”
Instead of replying, she was drawn to hugging him. He’d been the first person she’d seen after her sister’s murder in the arena that followed hers. He’d held her so carefully as she bawled for her siblings and realized it was all her fault that they were suffering. He’d even had the grace to lie to her face and tell her she was wrong.
“I just wanted to thank you,” she said into his shoulder. “I really appreciate it all.”
“You know it’s easy to take care of a girl like you, right?” A girl like me? She froze up at the line. How many times had she been called something similar. A girl like me. What? A whore? A try-hard? A brain-dead, brother-fucking, slut from the wannabe district? “I’m saying you’re very sweet, Cash. Easy to love.”
“Oh.” She tried to relax back into his grip, to enjoy the rest of her hug, but she’d ruined it for herself. “I know you can’t betray your tributes or anything, but can you just promise one thing?”
He hesitated, pulled away, and told her, “anything.”
“If it comes down to it, can you just make it quick? For Gloss and I. We’re not getting out but that doesn’t mean we want to suffer, you know?”
“I don’t know about that one.” He made a show of considering it, practically mocking her misfortune to her face. “I’d say your odds are just as ‘in favor’ as anyone else’s.”
“No, they’re not.”
“Yes, they are,” he argued as quickly as she had. “I’m sure Finn’s talked to you. You’re not stupid, Cash. No matter what they try to act like, I know you’re one smart fucking cookie. You know what you know and you know what you need to do. Leave it at that. I’m not making that call for you.” Oh, you’re in on it, too? She wanted to be angry but something about that revelation gave her pause. Good, that means it’s true. En can get out.
Haymitch was watching her closely as she watched him. Studying her as she studied him. “Who’s behind it? Can you tell me that, at least? To help me believe in that fairytale?”
She was incredibly and impressively good at speaking in coded phrases. Usually they were used to cover up something incriminating about a patron or something she didn’t want to quite confess about herself. Today, it was treason and she liked that. “Most of the Districts. All thirteen.”
She scoffed. Immediately, Cashmere wanted to walk away from him, maybe yell over her shoulder that he was an asshole, and forget the farewell entirely. She stayed. Maybe it was stupid of her but she stayed. “Not One, though?”
“Yes, One, too. You’d be surprised how tired people are.” Haymitch gave her a wry smile that rivaled Finnick’s Capitol persona. She couldn’t let herself think about Finn again. “I’m sure you can bet which ones haven’t been invited. Guess they’re just not that tired, yet.” She absolutely could. Nodding and turning her attention to the balcony overlooking her own apartment floor below, she wanted nothing more than to hold Gloss again.
“I’ll keep it in mind. See if your tributes can’t spare a lowly One slut like me while you’re tucking them into bed, then, I guess.” She looked back at Haymitch and offered him a smile of her own. “And if they can’t, make them promise to make it quick. Goodbye, Abernathy.”
“Goodbye, darling.” He hugged her with impressive finality, scooping her up and letting her go with such perfect efficiency that she could hardly react. Like that, they parted.
Cashmere walked down the flight of stairs to her floor, afraid to see anyone else for the night. Her goodbyes were over. Maybe she could have said goodbye to Johanna, too. She supposed she should have. But Johanna probably wouldn’t want to talk to her, she reasoned. She punched me a few years ago and still never apologized, Cashmere though with a smile, doubt she’d play nice long enough for a farewell. That left only a few Victors she would even want to see before they were dropped in the arena. Mags needed to rest and Cecilia would undoubtedly be too much of a wreck to speak. Katniss was too stand-offish and Peeta too attached to his supposed lover. If it weren’t for the baby. It was a stroke of genius but not good enough.
Gloss was sitting, almost impatient, on the couch in the living room. Their Mentor was still up with Enobaria and their annoying district escort was nowhere to be seen. Good.
“Did you get it all out?” He patted the seat beside her with a heavy sigh.
“And then some,” she joked back. She settled beside him, curled into his side like a kid, and wept for the first time since their father’s murder. She’d been crying for herself that day. No one should mourn a monster like him after the things he’d done to her, to his wife, to everyone else. No, she’d cried realizing she only had Gloss and her mother to rely on. That her mother would undoubtedly be the next to be killed if she fucked up. “We just have to make it to day four.”
“We’re not getting out, Cash,” Gloss argued softly, “why does it matter what day?”
She shook her head. Not in this room, she decided. She looked around and tried to imagine where the microphones would be hidden. Beetee had been the one to tell her that only a select few areas in more public settings were ever recording video. Not enough eyes to constantly survey. Everywhere else that was bugged was only listening. That had been a small comfort to learn.
Standing, she offered a shower. Gloss didn’t hesitate to accept. Whatever the Capitol thought of them together didn’t matter anymore. It hadn’t in ten years since they’d first been forced to do it together. The Capitol would choose to believe what it wanted and the siblings would know what they knew. That was all that mattered.
They stepped in in silence, hot water against his back to shield her from it. She always preferred cold showers but he liked the heat so, when they showered together, they showered in warmth. “Finn says there’s a plan to get us out.” She turned her back away from her brother after speaking, letting him run a soapy cloth down her back. “I think I believe him.”
“Who’s behind it?” He came incredibly close to be sure no lingering bugs could pick up their voices under the stream of water. She shrugged.
“Haymitch said they all were. All but Two. I don’t know if I believe that as much, but I do trust Finn.”
Her brother went silent. She turned around and looked up to meet his eyes. His were watering. If she didn’t feel so broken herself, she might have been tempted to chastise away those tears. She took his chin into her hands and put her forehead to his. The spray of water enveloped them. They felt truly and wholly as one.
“I think we have to try,” her brother said in that small space between them. “There’s nothing to lose if it goes awry. We’re dead anyways, right?” Always were. She nodded and tried not to feel so hopelessly defeated by the life she’d lived. Been forced to live. She told Gloss that she’d made everyone she’d talked to tonight promise to make it quick for them if it came to that. He seemed to appreciate that in a quiet, brooding sort of way. “Let’s just hope it doesn’t come to that, huh?”
“No stupid plans and no suicide missions. Not until day four, at least.” He chuckled at that.
For the rest of the shower, they were silent. He helped her wash her hair and she helped with his back. He kissed admiration into her shoulders and she wrapped adoration around his waist when she embraced him. They moved on from that like nothing was amiss. Like it was any other night after any number of housecalls that had asked everything of them including their dignity.
They settled into his, their, bed in comfortable silence. She’d always liked silence with him. It came naturally. Granted, there had been periods where the silence had been painful. After their first call together, when neither knew how to look at the other without rolling in guilt and disgust, they were silent. After what their father had done to them only a few months ago, they were incredibly silent. Disgust and guilt bred silence, she found. She turned to him in the darkness and traced his cheekbones with a ghosting finger.
“I still have my doubts,” she said vaguely into the black around them, “but we’re going to try. We have to.” Mom’s still home, she realized almost too slowly. Please, tell me she won’t lose the last of her family tomorrow. First a daughter, then a shit husband, now her last two kids? Please, no.
She was crying before she could stop herself. Gloss pulled her close and let her cry hot tears into his sleeping shirt. All she could manage between choking sobs was a pathetic ‘mom’ here and there. He knew exactly what she meant. He rolled on top of her with that expert skill she’d come to love. With anyone else, it would have felt sensual. A floodgate to open a world of seduction and sex she didn’t want. With him, it just meant he’d let his weight force out those tears just how she needed. He did just that.
Finally, the crying stopped. He stayed on top of her, every inch of him pressed against everything inch of her. It felt so right and she hated herself for thinking that. Still, she breathed him in until everything but started to hurt. She tapped his shoulder twice and he rolled away.
“I think I should say goodbye tonight. Just in case.” She kissed what she could reach of him, a hand pulled to her lips. “I love you, Gloss.”
“We’re not saying goodbye,” her brother said stubbornly. He even pulled his hand out of hers to make the point. She hated the emptiness she felt. Desperately, like a child clawing for a bottle, she grabbed it and brought it back to her head. “I’m not allowing it. If it’s in the arena, that’s one thing. But otherwise? Not yet, please.” She nodded despite knowing he couldn’t see. Fine, we’ll say goodbye in the arena. Let the Capitol see two ruined Victors who never got to love or be loved how they deserved. Let them see two victims of the system they created.
“We’re going down together or not at all, you hear me?” He pulled her to his side, so close she was convinced she could feel his steady heartbeat in her arm. Nodding again, she realized he wouldn’t see. “I love you, Cash.”
“Like the moon loves the stars,” she echoed like their mother used to tell them.
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