Chapter Text
By this hour in the morning, most of the ships would be absent from the dock. However, today is Reaping Day for the 70th annual Hunger Games.
This might be the last time I see the ocean, Annie Cresta thinks, digging her feet into the sand as she watches sunlight flickering off the water. In past years, she’d watched as older boys and girls volunteered, but this year the Supervisors have finally noticed her. This year, Annie will be the female tribute from District 4. At last, she’ll be able to restore her family’s reputation after her brother’s death.
“Annie, hurry up! We have to leave soon, and you’re still not dressed!” Her mother calls from their cottage.
“Coming!” Annie turns away from the sea and starts up the small, wooden stairs taking her toward her dream. At seventeen, all of Annie’s hard work has paid off. Although she’s barely 5 '6, dwarf-sized for a Career, she’s worked hard to overcome her disadvantage. And finally, she’s been chosen by the training Supervisors to volunteer.
So she marches toward her dream. Toward her destiny.
. . .
The Reaping itself is incredibly dull. Annie volunteers for the trembling thirteen year old whose name is called, just as she’d practiced. The male volunteer is a huge blond boy named Caspian who she barely knows. She wonders how quickly into the Games he will turn on her. As the District 4 sponsor trills on about tradition and honor, her parents beam at her. After the ceremony, they quickly say goodbye. Her father pulls her into a brief but tight hug. Then, two Peacekeepers escort her onto the train.
Immediately, Annie notices how beautiful it is. The ornate gilding on the walls, crystal vases of flowers, and plush red carpet. She is pushed down a hallway leading to a small dining room. Caspian is already there, standing beside Finnick Odair and a stooped, elderly victor she does not know. For a moment, Annie’s breath is taken away by the beauty of Finnick. All the pictures and broadcasts she’d seen of him pale in comparison to how he looks in person.
“Hello Annie,” Finnick smiles. “It’s a pleasure to meet you. I’m Finnick Odair, and this beautiful woman is Mags.” His hand is warm and smooth when she shakes it.
Mags rolls her eyes at Finnick and kisses Annie on the cheek. “Lovely to meet you, dear. Have you two seen your rooms yet?”
Annie watches Finnick carefully, noting his baggy clothes and the faint shadows under his eyes. It’s strange to be seeing him in person, separated from the whispers and rumors that follow him around. As they walk, Mags strikes up a conversation about the Opening Ceremony, but Finnick stays quiet, simply nodding and occasionally offering a few words of advice.
At dinner, they discuss strategy, both for the upcoming interviews and the Games themselves. “I’m not as strong as the tributes from 1 and 2,” Annie says, “but I’m fast in the water and on foot, and I’m good at setting traps.” Mags nods and asks about her weapons ability, but Finnick only looks her up and down with half-lidded eyes, and returns to his food. She feels a spark of indignation. Does he not care?
That night, Annie has a nightmare that the arena is a vast desert, with no water. During the initial bloodbath, she finds a sword by the Cornucopia, but it’s white-hot and sears her skin to the bone. Frozen in place, she watches Caspian stalking towards her, until he wraps his massive hands around her neck and–
She jolts upright in bed, sweat pouring down her. In the hallway outside, she hears footsteps, and a door opening and closing. She doesn’t fall back asleep.
. . .
The Capitol is as colorful and loud as the people that inhabit it. Annie sees women with live snakes on their head, and men with suits made entirely out of gemstones. A girl with her breasts nearly hanging out of her tiny outfit-a handkerchief’s take on a sailor suit-carries a sign that says “I love Finnick Odair,” as do many other Capitol citizens, both male and female. Finnick unbuttons his shirt and leans out of the window, waving and eliciting screams of hysterical excitement. However, when they pass under a bridge, she watches his smile drop in the darkness. He turns and walks away into a different compartment. As sun streams back into the compartment, Caspian and Annie grin timidly at the cheering crowd. She sneaks a look at him, realizing he was peeking at her, and they both burst out laughing. In this perfect moment, the idea that in less than a week they’ll be fighting for their lives seems ridiculous.
When they arrive at the Remake Center, Annie is whisked into a plain white room, sprayed with a mysterious chemical, and removed of all her “aesthetically displeasing” hair, as her prep team calls it. When she looks in the mirror they give her, she realizes her freckles are gone as well. Her teeth are scrubbed with a gritty, foul paste. By the time her stylist arrives with her costume, she’s exhausted. She introduces herself as Mariananya, which is a name Annie imagines is rare, even in the Capitol. “You can call me Ariana for short,” she adds, smiling with dark purple lips. “I must say, I think you’re going to love the design this year! The theme I chose was ‘sea siren.’ ” The design in question is a two-piece set with a long, low riding skirt, and a cropped, tight top that uncomfortably accentuates Annie’s breasts while leaving her stomach bare. The skirt is shimmery and green, while the top is ocean blue. Pieces of fabric sewn to look like seaweed are braided into her hair, and her prep team paints her arms, chest, and stomach with a golden sort of oil that makes them glisten. When Annie looks in the mirror, she does indeed look like a siren from beneath the waves. In fact, she feels like one as well. Caspian is dressed similarly in the pants equivalent of Annie’s skirt, while a golden net is draped over his bare, shining chest. District Four’s chariot is decorated to look like a giant seashell, and the horses are clad in seahorse outfits. As Annie and Caspian are ushered onto the chariot and handed the reins, the crowd begins to stomp and scream as the District One tributes emerge from the tunnel. The chariot lurches forward, and Annie is almost thrown off. Suddenly she feels the weight of the whole entire stadium pressing on her chest. Caspian looks at her, concerned. She can’t catch her breath; she’s gasping for breath but she’s underwater, and the water is burning her lungs and she-
A hand on her arm makes her jump. Finnick is looking up at her worriedly. “Are you alright?”
Annie nods, forcing a grin. “Sorry, I am, I’m just not used to…all this.” She flushes a little from embarrassment at making such a scene.
He smiles. “I remember how that feels. But once you’re halfway down the track, all the nerves are gone. Everyone will be cheering.”
Their chariot is moving up again, and Finnick walks beside it, still holding Annie. She’s mystified by this kind side of him; after their first encounter, she’d assumed him to be simply another Capitol wannabe, egotistical and uncaring. The chariot jolts one final time, and now they are up next, and the crowd is deafening. “Good luck District Four,” Finnick murmurs. “Wave and smile. You’ll be great.” He lets go of Annie’s hand, and then their chariot is bursting into the stadium amid screams and cheers, going a million miles an hour. She can see her face projected onto a massive screen, tendrils of red hair blowing wildly. Her lips and eyes are painted dark blue, and for a moment she truly doesn’t recognize herself.
Wave and smile.
She puts on what she hopes is a confident grin, lifting her hand at the crowd tossing roses at them. The chariot jostles along the track, once again almost tossing Annie, but she keeps her smile plastered on her face. Whistles and cheers follow their chariot through the stadium, passing about two hundred below a balcony on which President Snow sits. As they fly past, he offers them a nod. Just like that, it’s over, and as their chariot halts, she sees Finnick come sprinting through the underground tunnel that travels from one side of the arena to the other. He nearly outran the horses. Annie knows that even though most people attribute his winning the 70th Games to his skill with a trident, Finnick is just as deadly in nearly all other areas as well. “How did it go?” He asks breathlessly, helping Annie down from the chariot. “The crowd definitely liked our outfits,” Caspian jokes, which makes Annie wince and wrap her arms around herself. She’d forgotten how exposed she was. Strangely, Finnick’s eyes darken as well, though he hides it quickly. During the ride to the Training Center, he wraps his jacket around her shoulders without a word, before turning away to stare out the window.
Annie’s room is larger than the entire first floor of her cottage in District Four. In the center sits a giant white canopy bed, directly across from a massive wardrobe and vanity. The adjacent bathroom has a shower with hundreds of knobs and dials for water temperature, pressure, soap, bubbles, and a million other amenities. But her bare skin still stings from her prep team’s aggressive efforts, so she chooses the gentlest settings possible. When she emerges from the bathroom wrapped in a towel, she startles at the sight of a small girl bent over her bed. At the sound of Annie’s footsteps, she jumps and utters a little cry, preparing to dart out of the room.
“Oh! It’s alright,” Annie reassures her. “You just…surprised me is all.”
The girl relaxes a little but gestures to the bed, where she was laying out a simple cotton nightgown.
“Thank you…are you…?” Annie means to ask if she is an Avox, one of the tongueless traitors that she’s heard stories of. She had always pictured Avoxes to be slightly deformed, hunched, and much older, but the girl has pretty olive skin and curly black hair. She can’t be older than thirteen. Yet, she nods slightly, nervously clasping her hands. “Well, it’s a pleasure to meet you,” Annie continues. “My name is Annie Cresta, and I’m from District Four. My…well, my brother was deaf, so I know some signs, if you’ve learned any.”
The girl smiles shyly and signs 'I am Mina from District Eleven.'
“It’s nice to meet you, Mina. Have you…I mean, have you lived here long?”
At this, Mina’s face crumples.
“Oh no, I’m sorry!” Annie exclaims, “It wasn’t my place to ask that.”
Mina shakes her head. 'It is okay. I have lived here for five years.'
Annie’s heart breaks a little for her, imagining how lonely and afraid she must be. Mina taps her on the shoulder timidly. 'You volunteer?'
“Yes, I did. I’m going to win the Games.”
At this, Mina smiles a little sadly. 'Good luck, Annie Cresta.'
That night, after Mina is gone, Annie is just about to go to bed when she remembers that she still has Finnick’s jacket. As quietly as possible, she pads down the hallway, wondering which room is his. Hearing the clink of glass, she creeps into the kitchen.
Sure enough, Finnick is hunched over the jewel-toned counter, gripping a liquor bottle with both hands. Annie wonders if she should go back and leave him alone. Clutching the coat in both hands for strength, she steps out of the shadows.
His head jerks up and then drops down again when he sees that it’s her.
“Annie…Cresta,” He mutters, and something about the sound of her name in his mouth makes her stomach drop.
“I came to return your coat,” Annie whispers, placing it on the counter before him. She turns to retreat back into her room.
“Do you...want to get drunk with me?” He looks as though he’s already there.
“If I do, do you promise to get me sponsors?” Annie jokes, which makes Finnick smile a little and nod. She tip toes back over to the counter and slides onto one of the stools, taking a bottle from him. It tastes horribly bitter, and she must’ve made a face because he smiles again, but it quickly disappears.
“Annie, I’m sorry about your brother...Wesley.” She’s been waiting for him to say something about that. Dreading this inevitable conversation, because she knows that she’s going to cry. Wesley died almost four years ago. Finnick, fresh from his own Games, was his mentor.
“Nobody has spoken his name to me since his Reaping,” is all Annie can say, digging her nails into her arms. Don’t cry. Don’t you dare cry.
“I’m sorry Annie,” Finnick pleads. “He was so kind and smart, and it was all my fault…I just want you to know how sorry I am.”
Annie feels a traitorous tear slipping down her cheek. “My parents kept telling me he dishonored us. Bad enough he was born mute, they said, but worse that he volunteered and died without killing anybody.”
Finnick looks devastated. “I’m so sorry. It wasn’t his fault at all. It was my first time mentoring...I didn’t prepare him.”
“I watched him get stabbed from my living room,” Annie whispers. “And right after it happened, after the cannon fired, my parents just turned off the television and moved on. They never…they never spoke about it again.” More tears are running down her cheeks, but she refuses to make a sound.
Finnick doesn’t say anything, and she suddenly regrets what she’s told him. A glance at him reveals that his head is buried in his hands. Silently, she gets up and creeps back to her room. The second the door clicks shut behind her, she falls to her knees and cries into the carpet. Hearing somebody speak her brother’s name after four years is unearthing memories that hurt too much to remember. Her and Wesley, rolling around in the waves as children.
Sticking up for him after other kids made fun of him.
And the day he left, hugging him goodbye and watching his red curls bounce as he strode confidently toward the train, never looking back.
Annie falls asleep on the rug, waking up only briefly to a quiet knock on the door that she’s too exhausted to answer.
. . .
Breakfast is a quiet affair. Annie sits with her hands tucked under her thighs and watches Finnick’s empty seat. “He had some business in the Capitol today,” Mags supplies, eventually noticing Annie’s stares. In the corner of the dining room, Mina stands silently, occasionally darting forward to clear away plates or refill glasses. Her and Annie exchange shy smiles each time. She reminds Annie of a little girl she used to look after back in Four.
“Listen, both of you,” Mags clasps her wrinkled hands on the table. “At training today, stick with the other Careers. Make sure they like you so you can form an alliance. Don’t showcase your full range, but do just enough that the other tributes will see you as a contender.”
Annie and Caspian nod, exchanging a glance. The training room is a massive, steel hangar with fighting rings, weapons targets, and a wide variety of stations offering instruction on various skills. The tributes from One are already there, and they introduce themselves as Onyx, a tall, muscular boy who nearly dwarfs Caspian, and Jade, an equally statuesque girl with neon green eyes that Annie guesses are surgical. Hector and Electra are the District Two tributes, and they arrive a few minutes later. Throughout training, Annie sneaks glances at her competition, looking for any possible weakness. As far as she can tell, the only real threats this year are the other Careers. Watching Hector and Caspian spar, she decides to try and speak to Jade, who is chucking knives at a target like it’s personally wronged her.
“How do you like the Capitol?”
Jade startles, whipping around and almost losing one of the knives into Annie’s face. After a moment of silence, she clears her throat awkwardly.
“It’s very beautiful. The food is nice.” Her voice is much higher than Annie expected, given her height.
“I agree. Do you have any siblings in District One?”
“Yeah, three brothers and a sister. How is it, working with Finnick Odair?”
Annie sighs inwardly at the question, but she knows she’ll have to get used to it. “Oh, it’s nice. He’s a very attentive mentor.” She cuts her eyes suggestively, making Jade laugh. She knows this isn’t fair to Finnick, but she’s desperate to guarantee her spot in the Career circle, which is her only shot at surviving the initial bloodbath.
“You’re lucky he’s sexy. Both my mentors are old grouches,” Jade complains, pinning Annie with her unnerving eyes. “I can’t wait for the Games to start, even just so I can get away from that horrible apartment with the two of them watching my every move.”
Annie forces a laugh that she hopes reads as genuine. “Tell me about it. By the way, who do you think we should get rid of first? I mean, out of all the tributes here?”
“District Twelve, Eleven, and Three,” Jade answers without hesitation. “And the male tribute from Five. His partner’s a sickly bitch, but I’ve been watching him set traps over there,” she points to a station on the other side of the room. A boy is bent over, fingers moving quickly over small pieces of wire.
“We shouldn’t let him live.”
Annie nods. “Yeah, I agree.” As she says those words, a small, kind part of her weeps.
. . .
After they finish training, Mags and Finnick, who’s returned from whatever escapade he was on, split them up for interview prep. Finnick offers to go with Annie, which makes Mags smile. He says they should probably practice in Annie’s room, since it’s a relatively familiar setting to learn something unfamiliar. Is it just her imagination, or does he stammer and blush a tiny bit as he’s speaking?
Annie perches on her bed, legs crossed as Finnick sits at her vanity. His face is carefully blank.
“I thought we should start by-”
“Finnick, it’s not your fault.” Annie blurts, unable to stop herself. “I’m sorry I acted like a child last night, running off crying like that. The only one to blame is President Snow, for forcing you to mentor him right after your games. So please don’t be sorry.”
Finnick looks surprised, running a hand through his hair nervously as she speaks.
“Sorry, that was a lot,” Annie apologizes. “I just can’t stand to think of you feeling guilty.”
A sad smile spreads across his beautiful face. “I appreciate you saying that. And we’ve both said sorry more than enough times for today, but I need you to know that I don’t normally drink like I did last night. Something about the Capitol…brings out the worst in me.”
Annie nods. “You’re a depressing drunk.”
He grins, probably shocked that she made a joke. “And you’re any better?”
“I think I’d be a very happy drunk.” Annie retorts.
“You’ve never been drunk?” Finnick asks incredulously.
“I was pretty sheltered growing up…weren’t you?” She immediately feels guilty for asking this. Of course he wasn't.
His eyes sadden a little. “Not after my games, and I was fourteen then…I guess when I was much younger, but I don’t remember.”
Annie doesn’t say anything. When she was fourteen, Wesley died and she trained a lot. She didn’t even have her first kiss until she was sixteen. From the rumors she’s heard, Finnick never had the luxury of time after he won.
“Anyways,” He leafs through a stack of notecards he’s carrying. “We should decide what your strategy is going to be. How you’ll present yourself.”
“Do you know what I’m wearing yet?”
“It’s going to be a fitted, long, blue dress. I tried to get Ariana to give you something less revealing, but she doesn’t have any other designs ready.”
“So I probably can’t take the sweet and innocent angle. ”
“Correct,” Finnick sighs, eyes clouding with an emotion Annie doesn’t recognize. “How about I’ll ask you a question and you just respond to it in the first way that comes into your head?”
Annie nods, and he leans back, propping his arms up on the vanity and putting on his Caesar Flickerman voice. “Tell us Annie, what is your favorite part of the Capitol so far?”
She has to stifle a laugh at the sudden transformation, then remembers she actually needs to respond.
“My shower. It has about a million settings, and sometimes when I get bored, I’ll just go sit in there and play with it.”
Finnick smiles, breaking character. “That was perfect. Do you actually do that?”
“Once or twice,” Annie grins. “Next question.”
“Speaking of playing with things, how is it having Finnick Odair as a mentor?” There’s an amused glint in his eyes.
Annie smiles in what she hopes is a sensual way. “Oh, it’s beyond pleasurable. I-” she nearly chokes. “I feel like we really connect on a deeper level. Quite often, in fact.”
Finnick bursts out laughing. “Please, for the sake of myself and the audience, do not answer like that if he asks you about me.”
“I make no promises,” Annie mumbles jokingly, watching Finnick play with a small bandage on his finger. Noticing her stare, he sits up and shifts back into Caesar Flickerman.
“Miss Cresta, what makes you a true threat in the arena?”
She has to pause to consider this one, but only briefly.
“I’m fast in the water and on land. And I’m good at setting traps.”
Finnick nods solemnly, Caesar forgotten once again. “Annie, I’m going to be honest with you. You’re probably the smallest Career I’ve ever seen. You won’t be able to overwhelm most of the other tributes with strength, but you’re right. You are incredibly fast. In battle and on your feet. I believe in you, Annie. You can win this whole thing.”
Annie doesn’t say anything, but inside her heart is glowing and dancing and cartwheeling as she thinks of how proud her parents would be to hear those words. How proud she’s going to make them.
How proud she’s going to make Finnick.
. . .
The following morning, Annie doesn’t see Finnick before she leaves for training, and when she returns, Mags says that he still hasn’t returned. More business to attend to, she says. It’s strange to Annie that she can miss a person she barely knows. Finnick Odair is the kind of man that it’s impossible to dislike, even if she tried. The more she finds out about him, the more she can’t imagine any of the rumors about him being true.
That evening, she’s lying in bed when she hears soft footsteps and the snick of a door closing. Running water. Moments later, a loud thud follows. Annie jolts up in bed, heart racing. She listens for more footsteps, but is met by silence. After a few seconds she climbs out of bed and hurries into the dimly lit hallway, where she’s met with three identical doors.
Which one is it? She wonders anxiously. Pressing her ear to the smooth, cool wood of the first, she’s met with faint snoring. The second one is totally silent, but through the third one she can hear running water. Gently, she pushes it open and slips inside.
Finnick is sprawled facedown on the carpet in nothing but a shiny gold robe. He’s quiet, only breathing faintly.
“Finnick?” Annie whispers. Panic grips her heart. She kneels down next to him and gently rolls him over. His eyes open slowly, but she can immediately tell something is wrong. His pupils are huge as he looks at her, dazed. Annie’s hands feel wet from touching him, and she looks down to find red smears along her palms and her nightgown.
All along Finnick’s chest are bloody lacerations, and when she pulls down the robe she finds them on his arms and back as well.
“Finnick. What happened?”
He watches her somberly. “Annie, I really don’t want to talk about this.” His voice is quiet. She watches him clench and unclench his fists, playing with the ties on the robe. “I…I’m about to get in the shower.” He tries to rise to his feet and fails.
“Finnick, please just tell me. I’m going to help you no matter what, and if you say no this time I’ll never ask again, but I’m really afraid right now.”
After a few moments, he nods, shifting back so he can lean against the bed. Annie tucks her legs against her chest and watches him.
“I was fourteen when I became a Victor. People credit my win to my skills with a trident, but truth is, I had a massive amount of sponsors. What I didn’t know was that when they sent me things in the arena…they viewed it as an investment. I was oblivious to everything then. All I knew was that I was alive, I was loved, and me and my mother were living in Victor’s Village with more money than we could ever spend. She raised me by herself, and she was so, so proud. But then, after a few months…Snow paid me a visit. Sat at my table and told me that as a continuing aspect of the Games, I was expected to go to the Capitol and…spend time with certain people who’d pay him money for me. I said no immediately. He warned me that there would be consequences, but I couldn’t imagine anything worse than…than that, so I said it was fine.” Finnick is staring at his lap.
“Then...he killed my mother. He made it look like an accident, but I knew. I had no idea he would go that far. He told me that Mags would have an ‘accident’ next, so I went. The first time, I did a horrible job. It…it was my first time ever,” He’s trying not to cry, Annie can tell. “And I was terrified. The client was at least three times my age, and…then Mags had a seizure because I didn’t do well. Snow made sure she recovered, but only so he could still threaten me with her. Every year for the Games, I go and sleep with whoever Snow wants.”
Finnick refuses to look at her. He’s chewing on his bottom lip so hard it’s starting to bleed, and his hands are shaking.
“Oh.” Annie's heart is breaking for him. “What happened today…is that normal?”
“Yes, it’s usually drugs and torture in addition to…Capitol drugs are…” He trails off.
“Powerful?” Annie guesses.
“Horrible.” He shudders violently.
“Finnick?”
He finally looks up, throat bobbing. His brilliant green eyes, so much softer and warmer than Jade’s, are glassy.
“Do you want me to help you now?”
“Please.”
Annie offers him her hands to pull himself up, then loops her arm under his waist. They stagger to the bathroom, barely keeping him upright due to their height difference. Thankfully, the shower isn’t too hot. She helps Finnick discard his robe, then lets him lean forwards onto her while she carefully washes his back and arms. She props him against the marbled wall to clean the cuts on his chest. Throughout the entire process, he hangs his head, like he’s ashamed.
Annie pretends not to notice his shoulders shaking. Instead, she starts singing softly to him a District Four song she remembers from her childhood.
Come home my darling, come home to me
Remember my love for you here by the sea
The ships in the sky will watch over you now
I see you in ev’ry single one of the clouds
Come home my darling, come home to me
Sleep in the ocean, forever free
Her voice is barely audible over the pouring water, but she feels Finnick relax slightly, and he leans his head onto her shoulder.
By the time she finishes, she’s turned off the water and dried him gently, smoothing ointment over his cuts. She determinedly avoids looking any further down than his lean, bare abdomen as she helps him into a shirt and shorts. Whatever drug they gave him must be starting to wear off, because he’s able to stagger into bed. Annie pulls the covers up to his chin, then, against her better judgement, kisses his forehead. His wet hair smells like lavender, which reminds her of the dried bunches that people in Four hang inside their homes. She turns to leave.
“Wait, Annie?” Finnick is sitting up in bed, fiddling with his hands again.
“Yeah?”
“Thank you. You didn’t have to do that.”
Annie smiles sadly at the pain in Finnick’s voice.
“I’d do it again.”
She sees something in his expression that she doesn’t recognize as she shuts the door behind her and returns to her own, colder room. That night, she dreams that she’s standing on the docks in District Four, watching Finnick bleed out in the water. When she tries to dive in to save him, the water turns into hundreds of tiny glass shards and shreds her skin. She wakes up crying in the middle of the night, legs tangled in her sheets.
. . .
Evaluation passes in a surreal, terrifying blur. Annie sits quietly by herself as the other Careers are called. She catches the eye of a petite, blonde-haired girl from Twelve who offers her a tentative smile. Annie turns away before she can smile back, knowing that if she reciprocates it will make it that much harder to kill her. Even so, that sweet, innocent smile haunts her as she slashes and hacks at the dummies during her allotted time, whirling between targets so fast her braid smacks her face.
Mags and Finnick had advised her to only showcase her fighting, and not her trap setting skills. “Your speed and power are enough to get you an 8 or 9,” Finnick told her. “But you shouldn’t score much higher than that. You don’t want to become a target to the other Careers. You know, like I was.” He smiles a little at this, which brings out the dimples that Annie’s grown attached to.
As Annie tears through the dummies, she allows herself to imagine what it would be like if she did win the games. The Victory tour, the adoration of the Capitol, her parents’ pride and love.
After her time slot is up, she finds Caspian waiting outside the door for her, and they walk to the elevator together. “How was it for you?” Caspian asks.
“It went well, I think,” Annie grins. “How about you?”
“Same. I don’t know if they liked me all that much though.” On their way out of the Training Center, they pass the girl from Twelve again, and Annie scowls in her direction.
When they get back to their apartment, they find Mags and Finnick sitting on the couch together, television already turned on and set to the Hunger Games channel. The score announcements won’t air until 22:00, so highlights of previous games are being shown instead. The entire prep team, Ariana included, seems to have surfaced from their rooms on the other end of the floor. Someone has brought out champagne and it’s clear that most of the assistants are well on their way to blacking out.
With Evaluation and her encounter with the little girl replaying in her mind, Annie slips onto the balcony after greeting Mags and Finnick quietly. The setting sun bathes the glowing Capitol in orange and pink, reminding her of the sunsets she watched in Four. People are scattered through the streets like grains of sand. Celebrating the Games, no doubt. Annie closes her eyes against the faint, perfumed breeze and imagines she’s back at home. Standing on the docks with Wesley, watching the ships dock as the sun dips down beneath the horizon.
"I missed you, Wes."
He laughs, elbowing her. 'Don’t be so serious,' he signs.
"No, I-"
“Annie? Annie, are you there?”
She flinches at a hand on her shoulder, but she’s relieved to see it’s just Finnick, looking worried. To her surprise, the moon is out. Rather than one shade of sunset orange, the Capitol is lit up in a million different shades of neon.
“The results from Evaluation are on,” He runs a hand through his hair. “Are you alright?”
Annie flushes, catching a glimpse of her disheveled reflection in the glass sliding door. “Yes, sorry, I was just thinking.”
Onyx and Jade from One receive an eleven and a ten, respectively. Hector and Electra both get nines, which surprises Annie, since she thought that neither of them was particularly good for being a Career.
As the symbol of District Four flashes on the screen, Finnick quietly reaches over and interlaces their fingers. Caspian gets a nine. “Better than I thought.” He smiles bitterly at congratulations from Ariana and the others. Finnick is gripping Annie’s hand like his life depends on it.
Annie’s heart is beating rapidly as her picture is shown, and then her number flashes onto the screen.
Ten.
“Well done darling,” Mags hobbles over to embrace her, while Finnick lets go of Annie and shakes Caspian’s hand, congratulating them both. The prep team is applauding, and the tattooed man who waxed Annie’s eyebrows is bringing out even more liquor.
She beams, imagining how proud her parents must be, watching on their small, staticky television at home. A twitch of movement catches her eye. Mina is standing in the kitchen doorway, waving at Annie. 'Congratulations friend,' she signs, grinning shyly.
'Thank you friend,' Annie replies happily, before she’s swept into Finnick’s tight hug.
“I’m proud of you.” He whispers in her ear before letting go. Annie hangs around for a few more minutes, then excuses herself to her room, head buzzing from the conversation and all the ways Finnick had touched her. How his warm hands encircled her waist, nearly dipping lower. How his breath felt against the sensitive skin of her ear.
Annie takes a freezing cold shower.
. . .
The next morning, she wakes up early to watch the sunrise. Curled up on a couch atop the balcony, she imagines repeating this process from a tree in the arena. If there are trees in the arena. As one thought leads to another, suddenly Annie finds herself with an unfamiliar question. If she won, would she be sold like Finnick?
At breakfast, she can’t bring herself to eat. Mags acts worried, and Finnick is away again. Now that Annie knows what happens to him, she can barely function. During interview practice with Mags, she flinches at every creak of the apartment. Afterwards, she’s exhausted from answering empty questions with even emptier responses, so she hides in her room and falls asleep with sunlight streaming through the curtains.
She awakens what feels like hours later, to the click of the elevator closing. As she opens her door, she finds Finnick halfway down the hallway. He jumps at the sound of her footsteps, but Annie is too busy scanning him for new cuts to apologize. After a few seconds, he catches on and smiles a little. “I’m fine, Annie. You don’t need to worry.” Despite this, the shadows under his eyes have returned, and he’s twisting his hands again. Eyes blurring, Annie walks toward him and pulls him into her. He gives in immediately, leaning down to rest his head on her shoulder. They stay that way for a while.
. . .
Annie’s dress for interviews is the tightest thing she’s ever worn. When Ariana brings it for her to try on the morning of, she takes a single step and falls over. She spends most of the day practicing walking around her room. Annie’s just grateful she doesn’t have to wear heels. Really, if it weren’t for the fit, she’d love the dress. It’s long, shimmery, and the color of the ocean at dusk. She wonders if Caspian has a matching suit.
As afternoon comes, her prep team all but bangs down her door as they set about getting her ready for the night. Thankfully, Annie’s godforsaken hair hasn’t yet started to grow back, so they simply do her hair and makeup and tape her breasts to stay up in the dress. She has to give them credit, because when she looks in her vanity mirror she looks beautiful, even by Capitol standards. Her eyelashes are lined with kohl, making her eyes pop out, and her lips have been painted red. Her ginger hair falls in soft waves across her chest and back, which is laced up to accentuate her curves.
When she steps out of her room to join the others, she sees Finnick’s eyes widen slightly. He quickly glances down, blushing. Annie pretends not to notice, but inwardly her heart is jumping.
The backstage area is packed so tightly that Annie is pressed up against a wall until a coordinator hurries over and yanks her into a line of tributes ordered by districts. Caspian, who is indeed wearing a matching suit, leans over and whispers in Annie’s ear. “What’s your strategy for tonight?”
“Oh, you know,” Annie jokes. “Sexy Career. Traditional, I suppose. You?”
“The same. They should really think of a new strategy.” Annie laughs at this, although she's beginning to feel ill.
The line dwindles alarmingly fast, and her heart begins pounding as the male tribute from District 3 is called. The audience laughs at some parts, applauds at others. All too soon, she’s hearing her name. Walking out on stage feels like a dream, and the audience whistles and claps loudly, although they all look hazy under the glaring lights. Her hand is sweaty when Caesar Flickerman shakes it, but he graciously pretends not to notice, and they sit down. Annie crosses her legs and leans slightly toward Caesar, just as she imagined it in her head.
“So, Annie Cresta. The mysterious sea siren.” At this, the Capitol citizens burst into cheers again, and Caesar has to wait a moment before continuing. “You looked quite lovely on camera, but what was going through your head during the Opening Ceremonies?”
Annie smiles bashfully. “Really, I was trying not to fall off the chariot.” Laughter.
“Well, we never would have known,” Caesar says kindly. “Now, we know how you felt about the parade, but how have you…enjoyed having Finnick as a mentor?” The crowd collectively whistles and oohs.
“Well…” Annie takes her time responding, feeling the audience hang onto her every word. “He’s very caring. And very talented as well.” She’s confused when the crowd screams with laughter. She wasn’t trying to be suggestive or sexy. Feeling her stomach sink, she smirks into the lights, wishing she’d disappear so she could finally take the stupid smile off her face. The rest of the interview blurs past, but by the end of it her face aches. Somewhere in the middle, Caesar gets up and twirls her around to show off her dress, and Annie gets a vague sense of foreboding and deja vu. As she waltzes offstage, she waves and blows a kiss to the crowd amid the applause. Thousands of hands–tattooed, pierced, and dyed, reach out to catch it.
. . .
She nearly cries from relief when she sees Finnick standing in a corner, talking with Mags. They both turn to her, smiling widely, and wrap her in a hug. She closes her eyes and breathes in the scent of District Four.
“Oh, Annie, you did wonderful!” Mags crows when they finally break apart. “You did. They love you,” Finnick adds.
“You’re not mad?” She questions. “That I said that, and the audience took it the wrong way?”
He looks confused.
“About you…as a mentor.”
Understanding flickers across his face, and then he smiles at her. “Sweet Annie. Not at all. Even if you’d meant it, I wouldn’t be upset.”
He looks as though he’s going to say more, but then Caspian joins them and the conversation shifts to his interview. Annie is happy to melt into the shadows, exhausted. That night, she falls asleep as soon as she climbs into bed. She has a dream about winning and returning to District Four with Finnick and Mags. Wesley is alive and living in the Victor’s Village, too–he won his Games after all. Every day they walk along the beach and watch the sun set in the pink sky, and Annie is happy.
When she wakes up there are tears running down her cheeks.
. . .
The next morning is foggy and dark as Annie dresses in an oversized shirt and pants. They’ll be provided with clothes for the arena. She twists her hair into a crown, never having been good at braids. As she’s tying her bun, she hears a quiet knock on the door. With a sigh, she lets her hair fall down her back as she goes to answer it.
Finnick stands in the doorway, twisting his hands. He’s dressed in his typical revealing Capitol clothing, although he’s wrapped a blanket around his shoulders.
“Hey.” He looks strained. Annie tries to smile, but it comes off more as a grimace. They both stand in silence for a moment, each occupied by their own thoughts. Finnick is the one who breaks it. “Do you…want me to help with your hair?”
“Please.” She smiles more genuinely now, and moves to sit at the edge of her bed, with him cross-legged behind her. Closing her eyes, she feels his hands gently unravel her halfhearted attempts and begin again. He works very carefully, and Annie doesn’t feel a single pinch or tug. After a few minutes, she puts a hand to her hand and lightly caresses the beginnings of an intricately braided crown.
“How…?” She marvels, forgetting momentarily that in a few short hours she’ll be fighting for her life.
“Well, I grew up with just my mother, as I’ve told you,” He explains quietly. “So I didn’t have very much time for the typical full-day Career training. I mostly worked on our boat–fishing–which is how I got good with knots and a trident. Braiding translated well, and my mom…I used to do her hair.”
Annie doesn’t say anything as he finishes. Once he’s done, she looks in the mirror and gasps a little. In addition to the beautiful crown on her head, he’s tied her hair off with a long, elaborate braid.
“Oh Finnick. It’s perfect.”
He smiles sadly. “Consider it your token for the arena.”
“I’ll think of you and Mags.”
Outside the Training Center, her and Caspian take turns saying goodbye to the mentors. Mags kisses Annie, as she had when they first met, which almost makes her cry. Finnick pulls her into a hug so tight that it nearly hurts. “I’ll be with you every minute,” he whispers. “Be brave.”
As soon as he pulls away, Peacekeepers are there to march them to a part of the Training Center Annie has never seen before. A grated floor slopes upwards to an alcove holding exactly twenty-four seats that several of the tributes already occupy. Annie and Jade share a smirk as they sit down and buckle the attached seatbelts. Her stomach is churning with nerves, and she almost shrieks as a metal door slams shut inches from her feet. The cubicle lurches, then slowly begins to rise. It must be a hovercraft to transport them to the arena. A boy towards the end of the row is sick, and his breakfast splatters in stripes on the floor. Onyx groans loudly from the other side, and all the Careers giggle.
The other kids watch in silence. District Three looks especially nervous to be sandwiched in between them. When the hovercraft lands after a few minutes–Annie’s heard that Capitol travel is incredibly fast–Peacekeepers immediately pull each tribute to separate rooms. She’s handed her uniform: a fitted cotton shirt, brown cargo pants, calf-high boots, and a thin jacket. She's disappointed at the revelation that the arena will be mostly wooded. She was hoping there’d be a beach, although she knows it would be an unfair advantage.
As if in a dream, the Peacekeepers return to lead her to an adjoining room. In the center is the launch tube: a wide, glass cylinder. Heart thumping, she moves to stand inside it, wiping her sweaty hands on her pants. The Peacekeepers leave the room. The platform abruptly surges upward, driving Annie to her knees. Gasping for breath, she forces herself to stand and look calm as she emerges into the arena. The first thing she notices is that they’re standing in a giant bowl. A temperate forest stretches past their small clearing in all directions, but the entire arena thing seems to be set inside of a massive valley. The faint sound of rushing water tickles Annie’s ears and gives her some hope. Squinting, she’s able to make out a faint gray structure at the end of a winding river. A dam. Annie’s perplexed by this, but all thoughts eddy out of her head as a cool female voice begins a countdown she’s become familiar with.
“Sixty. Fifty-nine. Fifty-eight.”
Every simulation. Every training session. It’s all led to this.
“Fourty-one. Forty.”
She notices Onyx and Electra next to each other, all the way across the circle. Hector and Caspian are positioned similarly nearby. Only her and Jade are isolated from the other Careers, and Annie realizes that it means they’ll have to fight their way to the Cornucopia.
“Ten. Nine. Eight.” Is it her imagination, or is the voice speeding up? She positions her feet to sprint, hoping that she can get her hands on a weapon rather than participate in hand-to-hand combat. There’s a good chance she won’t win against one of the bigger boys, and if she’s pinned down it’s over.
Come on Annie. Be brave.
“Three. Two. One.”
There’s a brief pause.
“Welcome to the 70th Annual Hunger Games.” And the horn plays.
Annie’s feet fly through the long grass, arms pumping. Out of the corner of her eye, she sees other tributes running toward the Cornucopia, though some choose to flee. Skidding to a stop before she reaches the golden horn, she snatches up a sword, and slides a dagger through the fabric of her pants. A glance reveals to her that none of the other tributes have reached the Cornucopia. When the tributes closest to her see that she’s armed, they all turn and flee. Behind her, she hears one of the Careers, maybe Hector, shouting. “Get them! We’re coming!”
So she sprints towards the closest boy, who wears a Ten on his back. In a few seconds she’s caught up to him, and he turns around at her footsteps. He’s crying. As her blade severs his neck, she realizes he’s the boy who threw up on the hovercraft. The cannon sounds, and she’s chasing down the next tribute from Seven. Other cannons are beginning to echo through the valley.
The girl’s blood sprays the grass. Boom.
Too late, Annie turns at approaching footsteps and her sword barely parries the powerful blow of an axe. It’s thrown several feet away, and she ducks to avoid the next swing from the District Seven boy. Lumber. She considers running, but she knows he’d easily cut her down. Instead, she waits until he swings a third time, aiming for her neck. She dives under the blow, slipping the dagger from her pocket and burying it in his stomach. He lets out an agonized scream and tries to grab Annie, but she darts out of his grasp and behind him. Before he can turn, she wraps her hands around his massive neck and twists, as she’s practiced hundreds of times.
The crack is nothing like she imagined. His body goes limp and she lets it flop to one side. The cannon goes off. In the distance, she watches the other Careers slash through any tributes stupid enough to try and fight them. She wipes her sword and dagger on the grass and walks over to them as they finish.
“How many did you get?” Electra calls.
“Three.” Annie wants to say more, but her throat is constricting strangely and she’s afraid she’s about to cry, which is insane. This is her whole purpose. This is how she’s going to win the Games.
“Nice,” Onyx grins callously. “We got seven. I think most of the remaining ones went towards the dam, so we can get them tomorrow. Let’s get more stuff before we leave.”
They all nod and trek back towards the Cornucopia to gather up whatever supplies they need. Another cannon goes off. Annie takes a dark green backpack that holds a few small packages and a tin of dried meat. A neat little print labels it beef, which Annie’s never tried. Only the Victors and wealthy families could afford to order it back in Four. Jade notices her curiosity.
“It’s good,” she grins. “Kind of salty though.” She’s carrying three huge backpacks: One in front, one in back, and one dangling from her rippling arm as they venture into the woods to set up camp.
After a few minutes of walking, Hector points out a gap in the trees ahead, indicating a clearing. Caspian suggests making a fire, but everyone else shoots him down.
“Not until after the male from District Five is dead,” Onyx adds with finality.
The temperature of the arena has dropped from pleasant to freezing, so Annie’s thankful to find that one of the mysterious packages is a sleeping bag. Caspian volunteers to take the first watch, and the other Careers lie down and curl up.
“Annie,” Jade whispers, breath steaming.
“Yeah?”
“Nice job today. I didn't know–” She stops talking, turning her glowing green eyes upwards as music rises. The anthem of Panem. Ghostly projections of the fallen tributes begin lighting up the sky. Annie counts the dead on her fingers. The pair from Three, the girl from Five, both from Six, the boy from Seven, the boy from Eight, the girl from Nine, both from Ten, and the girl from Eleven.
Eleven dead on the first day. Nearly half. A small part of Annie wonders if Finnick is watching right now. If he’s proud. As she’s trying to fall asleep, she replays her killings over and over. Her heart thumps in her chest like she’s fighting beneath the Cornucopia again. It takes a long time for her to drift off.
. . .
She wakes up to screaming. The sky is still shrouded in darkness, and she feels something wet and warm all over her body. Beside her, Jade is shrieking and Onyx is lunging for his sword. Hands clutch at Annie, and she nearly uses her dagger before realizing it’s Jade. It takes a moment for her eyes to adjust, but once they do she can see clearly the massive pool of blood and the gaping, gushing wound in Jade’s stomach.
“Help me Annie” She sobs hysterically. “Please I don’t wanna die.”
Annie’s frozen in place as Onyx slices into a dark figure trying to escape. Caspian is yelling something nearby, maybe an apology.
With a jolt of clarity, Annie realizes he fell asleep on watch.
A cannon goes off, and the figure falls to the ground. The black "Five" on his back is obscured by a dark stain.
“H-help,” Jade whimpers again, and Annie crawls over to her and puts her hands atop the wound, trying to stem the blood flow, although she knows it’s no use. Jade's intestines are spilling out. She’s going to die in a few minutes.
“Sh, it’s alright,” Annie soothes. “It’s not as bad as it looks. Just go back to sleep and when you wake up it’ll be all better.” Hot blood is slipping through her fingers, hot tears from her eyes.
“Did I win?” Jade sniffles.
“You did, you won, you won and we’re all so proud of you.” Now Onyx is sprinting over, pushing Annie aside and gently cradling Jade’s mutilated body. A quiet chuckle emanates from the bloody girl.
“Mama, I w-won.”
“No, Jade, don’t leave. Please don’t leave.” Onyx’s tall form is bent over her body, shaking with sobs. Annie watches his futile resuscitations, feels Jade’s blood drying all over her body. The sun is rising. The cannon sounds. Caspian is crying close by, continuing his chorus of apology, mingling with bird song.
After a few minutes or hours or days Onyx delicately lays his district partner’s body back on her sleeping bag. Then he seizes his sword and stalks toward Caspian, wrath written along every line of his face. Hector and Electra, forgotten until now, attempt to reason with him. He tosses them both out of the way like dolls. Eyes swollen by tears, Caspian croaks out a final “I’m sorry” before his head and body are separated by a stroke of steel so powerful it sends drops of blood flying in a wide arc. One lands in Annie’s mouth. A single bead of iron that reverberates through her throat, burning through the roof of her mouth.
The cannon goes off.
Suddenly she’s running through the forest, sprinting past the Cornucopia. She crashes through a river, slicing her leg on a sharp stone. Red blood billows in the rushing green water. Jade water.
'I’ll be with you every minute.'
Annie’s vision gets dim.
'Be brave.'
When she wakes up, the sky is dark and she’s lying in a small cave set inside a steep, grassy hill. The river runs beneath it.
Annie is not brave.
When the national anthem plays, she cries and covers her eyes so she doesn’t have to see their faces.
. . .
Annie sleeps and sleeps and doesn’t leave the cave. Occasionally the cannon goes off. After a few days, a little white parcel alights on the ledge outside the cave mouth. Inside is a bottle of water and a loaf of bread. She drinks the water greedily, not realizing how thirsty she was until that instant. Unable to walk properly, she falls down the hill and drinks from the river on her hands and knees. As quickly as she swallowed it, it comes back up, burning her throat. She crawls back to her cave and curls into a trembling ball.
. . .
The next morning it’s pouring rain. Annie eats a small piece of bread and wonders numbly if Finnick is watching her right now. If he’s ashamed to have such weak tributes. Of course, this reminds her of Caspian, which makes her throw up again, although her stomach is mostly empty. That afternoon the rain worsens, pounding above her head like it’s trying to crush her. She goes to sleep again, waking up to an awful cracking sound. At first she thinks the cave is falling in on her, but quickly realizes the sound is coming from outside.
Leaning heavily on the stones clustered outside, she squints at the far edge of the arena where the cracking is growing louder and louder. There, at the very edge.
The dam.
A wall of churning brown water is surging through the forest, toppling small trees and carrying debris across the arena.
It’s headed straight for her, faster than she can blink. Heart pounding, Annie scrambles up the hill on all fours. Desperately trying to delay the inevitable. But when she reaches the top, there’s nowhere else to go. No trees to climb. Nothing to save her. And the wall is getting closer.
'Be brave.'
Two cannons go off, one after the other.
Annie closes her eyes as she’s swept off her feet by the raging floodwaters. She can’t see, hear, or think. All she can do is kick and flail to stay afloat as she’s buffeted in every direction. Her limbs search for something to grab onto, but nothing is within her reach. She’s beginning to tire from fighting the current, arms and legs burning, and she wonders what drowning would feel like.
She silently apologizes to Finnick and her parents for not being stronger.
Just as she gives up, something huge slams into her stomach and knocks the air out of her, but she hangs onto it with all her strength as her head finally pops out of the water. Gasping for oxygen, she realizes she was hit by a massive tree limb. The destroyed arena flashes by as she’s swept along. She sees a small head bobbing in the current. Another cannon.
She wonders if the Gamemakers planned for this to happen.
Up ahead, several tall trees loom, thick trunks offering safety from the flood. Annie’s branch is pushed up against them, held in place by the pressure of the current. Mustering all her strength, she tries to pull herself up but fails. She turns at a massive crack behind her to see an even larger tree limb hurtling towards her.
She’s going to be crushed. With one final, desperate burst of strength, she yanks herself halfway onto her branch, lying on her stomach with one leg still dangling. She can’t pull it up fast enough. The massive tree crushes her limb from the knee down. White-hot agony shoots up her entire body, and Annie screams, though it is lost in the roaring of the water. She tugs but can’t free her mangled leg from between the trees. The water flowing past is stained red. Another cannon goes off, and she wonders dimly if it’s for her as her vision goes black.
. . .
When she wakes up, the water has gone down slightly and the current’s less brutal. The sky above is dark, no signs of the death toll. She wonders if the Gamemakers planned for the arena to flood. Something lands a little further down the log, and she strains forward to reach it. Her leg pulses in pain at the motion, and her hands shake badly as she’s unwrapping the small package. A bottle of pills. Annie figures they must be painkillers, and takes a handful. She passes out again.
Suddenly a light is blinding her eyes and metal claws are shifting the tree branch and the water is gone and Annie’s being lifted up up up
“Ladies and gentlemen, I am honored to present the victor of the 70th Annual Hunger Games!”
And then she’s laughing deliriously but also crying, because this must be a dream. She must be dead or dreaming, because she is not a Victor.
She is not a Victor.
She is not