Unsurprisingly, Finnick and I weren't allowed to leave together after the club. I was lucky that they, and by they I suspect I mean Plutarch, allowed for us to show up at the train station to go back home at the same time.

Once out of the prying eyes of the paparazzi, I give Finnick a big long hug. I likely won't see him until my brother's games start.

Finnick pulls out of the hug and holds onto my shoulders. "Hey, don't worry. Once you're back here with your brother we're gonna figure it all out. Got it?"

I nod.

Finnick goes into his back pocket and pulls out a jewelry box.

Is he going to propose? Here?

Finnick must see the look on my face because he laughs. "Oh, c'mon marrying me wouldn't be that bad." He mentions the notion of marriage so casually, that he brushes over it completely, seemingly too excited about what's really in the box. "It's for your brother. He can use it as a token if he wants. I had Plutarch look it over to make sure it would pass the inspection, just to be safe."

Finnick opens the box to reveal a beautiful bracelet. Finnick must've made it because it's the material is an intricately plaited fishing line. But then I look closer and see two marble charms on the bracelet, one with my name and one with my brothers.

"It's beautiful," I tell him.

"I'm glad you like it. I thought of it after you mentioned your brother's trust issues. The fishing line to remind him he's got an ally in me, and then the marble beads with your names on it to represent masonry."

Finnick's Capitolian intern comes over to rush him onto his train. "Good-bye, Knife Girl," he says teasingly, referring to what he had called me to the press the night before.

"See you in a couple of months, Floppy Air," I reply.

Once his intern is satisfied that Finnick is moving in the right direction, he turns around and gives me one last glance, reassuring me that everything is going to be alright.

_______________________________________________________________

I sit on the train intently reading the tabloid as I sip on my water. I always found it entertaining to read what they have to say about my fellow Victors and I whenever we visit. Somehow, reading it on a luxurious train, speeding away from the Capitol, makes it so much more satisfying. Victor's are a popular subject for gossip magazines. Sure, the Capitol has its own home-bred celebrities, but the citizens of the Capitol take an interest in the Victor's lives like their own depend on it. While it can be annoying, I find it interesting that the people of the Capitol have everything they could ever want, but they look up to people from the districts; people who came from having nothing.

Finnick and I made the front page; at this point, it's no surprise. My quote about loving my knives is the top headline. I smile, proud of myself. The picture below is a split photo; my arrival at the club on one side and Finnick's on the other. I flip to the page that contains our story.

As usual, there's a lot of speculation about Finnick and I having a fling. Luckily they don't mention anything about him being at my apartment earlier that day. However, someone snapped a very dark photo of him whispering into my ear. But that picture looks like nothing compared to the photographs of Capitolian women flung over him. However, there's one section that catches my eye. It reads:

Finnick Odair, 23, has been spotted out with several new beaus. While he showed up in a different car than long-time suspected fling Octavia Jones, also 23, the Victor seemed to have no problem flirting with several different women during his night out at the Panem 33 Club. Jones on the other hand, was spotted talking with soon to be three-time Head Game Maker, Seneca Crane, 31. They seemed to be very friendly while speaking together alone on the balcony of the club's exclusive VIP section (picture above). There's speculation as to whether or not Jones was simply talking with Crane for business or if there's a blossoming relationship. Have the two Victors been telling the truth about their "friendship" all along? Or did the couple stage the outing to throw everyone off their scent? Tell us what you think!

The picture of Seneca and I looks convincing, I'll give them that. They got a photo where Seneca's hand was touching my arm. I shiver, remembering how uncomfortable I felt at that moment. But the image was so blurry that you couldn't see the twinge of discomfort on my face. The paparazzi were at an angle that you could only see the edge of the balcony, so they wouldn't have seen Finnick walk in just a few moments later. 

I hope that Finnick hasn't gotten a copy of this paper on his train ride home. He understands that it's part of being a Victor, in-fact he deals with this sort of thing more than me, but that doesn't mean it makes him happy. I don't think anyone could enjoy that sort of thing. I know I don't.

I shake that all out of my mind and decide to flip through the magazine to look for a different story to distract me. I find one about Cashmere and decide to read on. Similar to Finnick and I, Cashmere spends a lot of time in the Capitol and practically lives there, instead of in her home district. But while Cashmere is there regularly, I hardly see her.

They keep all the Victors who spend a lot of time there in different apartment buildings, which I found odd. Why wouldn't they want us in one convenient place to keep an eye on all of us at the same time? But then I realized that they don't want a bunch of Victors to be in the same place for too long. Sure we're all together in the games, but we're divided by pitting us against one another, competing to see whose protegees would live. The Capitol thinks we're dangerous when we're together, and that's something I always make sure to keep in the back of my mind.

Like I said though, Cashmere isn't one who I would want to hang out with, and I'm pretty sure feeling is mutual. I feel bad for her because she's in the same position as Finnick, but she seems to project her hatred of what she's forced to do onto Finnick. She somehow mistakes his flirty and confident demeanour as a confirmation that he enjoys being prostituted when in actuality, that's far from the truth. I think she's aggravated by the fact that Finnick tries to act un-bothered, even though she acts the same way.

But I digress. Cashmere and I could perhaps, have been friends, had she not had such a vendetta for my boyfriend. And thus, she's left all alone, with no Victors or people who understand what she's going through. I pity her, but not enough to put Finnick through the strain of being criticized for every little quirk and smirk.

Having enough of the tabloid, I put it down and decide to look out the window instead. I stare at the beautiful scenery. The mountains mean that I'm getting close to home. I go and change into my academy uniform, to make sure I'm ready for when the train stops.

Once I disembark the train, I take pleasure in the fact that I'm going to get to be home for the next few months. I can't think of a time since Annie's games that I've been home for that long.

I head straight to the centre, knowing that the other Victor's are most likely debating about who to allow to volunteer this very minute. The centre seems awfully quiet, but not unusual for this time of year. The deliberations meant that there were fewer trainers to supervise the children. At first, I dumbly thought it was because you can't have children alone with weapons, but then I remembered where I was. Those rules were in place to make sure they didn't try and take out one another.

As I approach the door of the meeting room, I hear shouting coming from inside the room. I open the door to see that everyone is in a heated debate, but they're all speaking so loud that I can't discern what any one person is saying.

"Octavia, glad you're here, maybe you can talk some sense into everyone here," says Brutus. Lyme gives him a glare from across the room and I wonder what that's about.

"What seems to be the problem?" I ask.

"The problem is they all want to make your brother go this year," says Lyme, gesturing across the table to the committee members who seem to be in favour of sending my brother.

I look between the two sides. On the one hand, I knew my brother was going to go this year, he made sure of that himself, but on the other, did I really stand a chance of convincing all of these people not to send him when he's the clear choice?

"Her brother is the only clear choice for the males! He's in the 18-year old cohort and he outscores them in every weapons category," argues Brutus back to Lyme.

"Well, what about the 17-year-olds?" asks Lyme. "There's some good ones in there--"

Brutus huffs in annoyance. "Have you seen them? They're even worse than this years! Our next hope is in our 15-year-olds, but there's no way we can send any of them!"

"You're just biased because your his trainer!" accuses Lyme. I've never seen her so, so... emotional.

"You're right, I have trained him," says Brutus confidently. "I've spent enough time around that kid to know that he's got the skills and the guts to go all the way. Not a single other student has come close to beating him in combat this year. Not one."

There's a chorus of agreement between the committee members. With or without my vote it seems that my brother is going to be the academy's choice for volunteer.

"Brutus is right," says Enobaria. "Cato's our best bet for male tribute if we want back to back victories."

Everyone nods again, including the few committee members who had been on Lyme's side when I walked in. Brutus senses his side has won out and calls for the official vote.

"All in favour of sending Cato say aye," says Brutus.

I panic for a moment. Do I say yes or no? Cato will be going with or without my vote. But should I? If Cato were to find out that I voted against him then he would be furious; he might even refuse to speak to me altogether. And knowing Brutus, he can accidentally let things slip when he's angry, and me not showing support after I personally asked him to train my brother would be seen as an insult. And when Cato's angry, he's not focused. Being mad at me could be a more significant distraction then my brother needs and could prove to be fatal.

What a backwards place this is. A place where I need to vote to send my brother to an arena of death... to protect him?

I vote aye.

I mentally note to leave this part out when I go to tell Finnick, or anyone else. Voting to send my own brother into the games is not something they would be able to understand. Only someone born into this life would be able to see how my voting no could hurt my brother.

I see Lyme give me a death glare from across the table, as she and one other are the only ones to not vote yes.

"Then it's settled," says Brutus. "Now, onto the girls."

"I think it should be Clove," says Zenobia, the Victor of the 56th Games.

I shake my head. I don't want my brother to have to go up against one of his closest friends. "She should be saved for next year. It doesn't make sense to send her and Cato in the same year."

"She might be right," says Enobaria. "If Clove goes next year then we have a good shot at a three-peat, which would make history."

"Who do you propose we send instead then?" asks Brutus, intently listening to what I have to say.

"Hadriana is 18 this year. If she doesn't go this year then she'll never get to," I reply. Hadriana is a student who is good with throwing knives. She's talented, but I also can't help to selfishly think that she's someone my brother could take on if he needed to.

Zenobia nods. "Hadriana is good with a knife. And I agree, if we leave Clove to mature and train one more year, we have a good chance at three in a row."

"Yea, thanks for getting us started on that," says Brutus, giving a friendly punch to Augustus, who won last year.

With no one else voicing objections, we decide to vote again. Hadriana gains a full majority, cementing District 2's attempt to make history by winning three times in a row. I am a little relieved that I have at least done my brother the favour of not having to kill one of his closest friends in the arena. This small victory would have to be enough for today.

I stay and chat with Brutus, Enobaria, and Augustus for a while. I hadn't gotten the chance to really meet with Augustus since he won, so it's nice to finally meet him. He seems to be a career through and through, but not as devout as Enobaria or as traditional as Brutus.

I leave the room walk down the hallways, towards the exit, mentally making a list of things I need to do before the Announcing tomorrow. But then I see Lyme standing in the foyer. She sees me approaching and shakes her head at me.

What's this about?

Her eyes look teary yet cold at the same time. I wonder, what's happened to cause this? "You shouldn't have given your brother over to Brutus to be trained. It should've been me, you should have left him with me."

I don't know exactly what to say. "I—"

"No, you listen to me little girl, you're out there playing the perfect career in the Capitol, while Brutus has been here brainwashing your brother to think that these games are some glory and gore-filled dream come true."

I scoff. "And tell me exactly why you would've been so much better, hm? He's still in an academy filled with bloodthirsty lunatics either way! I gave him the best chance he has!"

Something I said seems to piss Lyme off even more. "That's exactly what's wrong with you," she says, pointing her finger dangerously close to my face. "You think you're above the bloodthirst and games around here, but you aren't. You're cut from the same cloth as everyone else in this building, you are the definition of a career," she says, her tone accusing.

"You know, I used to think you were different, after what your grandmother and mother did to you, but I was wrong. You're just a naive, stupid little girl whose going to get herself killed playing games with forces she can't understand and chasing after boys with their shirts off," Lyme says venomously.

Lyme storms off out the door.

My brain is frozen as if Lyme's words caused a malfunction. I can't even begin to digest all that she's said.

"Sounds like someone forgot to take their pills," says Enobaria snidely, disrupting me from my thoughts. I see Brutus behind her as well. Lyme never got along with Brutus and Enobaria well; I think Lyme saw them as too radical for her taste. I used to think the same way too, but once I got to know them better... well I changed my mind.

"Don't worry about her kid. She was probably just jealous that she didn't train him and that she's not going to get trainer of the year this year," says Brutus, comically pointing to himself when he mentions trainer of the year.

Enobaria and I laugh. "Oh, and what makes you think you'll get it?" asks Enobaria teasingly.

"Because I trained Cato," says Brutus as a matter of factly.

"Octavia trained him too you know. They might give it to her because she's his sister who trained him," supposes Enobaria.

The look on Brutus' face is priceless. Enobaria and I cackle at his dropped expression as she slings an arm around me and we walk towards the door.

"Wait but you guys don't think that will actually happen right?" says Brutus hopefully. When we don't answer he calls out again. "Guys?"

Enobaria and I laugh again. "You're so gullible," she tells him.

_________________________________________________

I walk into the house to find my brother sitting on my couch and watching something on the television. He sees me walk in and his eyes light up as if he were a child again. "Octavia, you're back!" he exclaims, jumping over the couch to come and greet me. He used to greet me like this every time I came home, and since he's gotten older, he only does it when he wants something from me.

Obviously, he wants me to tell him the results of the vote. "Okay, spit it out. Ask me," I say dryly. He's going to ask me anyway, so I figure I would just cut to the chase.

"Did I get it? Did I get the vote?" he asks in excitement and nervousness.

He looks down at me, eagerly waiting for me to tell him. Technically, I'm not allowed to tell anyone. But I've never been one to be above nepotism. "Cato Maximilian Smith... you've been selected to volunteer!" I say, trying to add excitement to my voice. If he thinks I'm not happy that he's selected, I'll never hear the end of it.

He bear hugs me with such force, I'm almost knocked to the ground. "Thank you, thank you, thank you!" After a brief pause, his voice is softer as if his next words are coming from the heart. "Ever since I was little...this is all I've ever wanted."

My heart breaks at that statement. I know what the games are like. If this is all he's ever wanted, I've failed as a sister miserably. The games are more like a nightmare come true than a dream. Maybe this is what Lyme was referring to before?

Cato tries to pull away from the hug, but I hold him in. I don't want him to see the tears welling around my eyes.

But I only met him when he was 11, right? Going into the games was already his dream when I met him. And that was something I knew would happen from the day we met. But why now, when it's actually happening, does it seem so hard to let go?

Cato forces the hug apart and sees my welling eyes. "Aw, I didn't know you'd be so happy about this," says Cato, misinterpreting the reason there're tears in my eyes. "What about Clove? Did she get it?"

I shake my head.

Cato clicks his tongue in displeasure. "That's too bad. We wanted to go at the same time to boost our odds."

"But only one of you can win?" I say as more of a question than a statement.

Cato shrugs. "Better one of us win then neither, right?"

I have so many questions for him, but I decide that I don't have time to unpack all of that. Wanting to change the subject, I ask Cato what he's been watching on the TV.

"Finnick's games," he replies casually.

My eyes widen. While I had seen Finnick's games as they happened, watching his games again was not something high on my to-do list.

Cato grabs the remote off of the coffee table and points up to the screen. "He's really good you know."

I sit down onto the couch. "Yea, I know. What are you doing watching them though?"

"I just wanted to see who I'm going to be helped by that's all. A pretty good pick if I do say so myself."

I laugh menacingly. "I like to think he's a pretty good pick myself."

"Okay, ew, ew, ew, I do not wanna hear any dating stuff from you," he says, shoving a pillow in my face. He turns the TV off, not wanting to look at Finnick after that.

We both sit in comfortable silence before he turns to me and asks, "Wait, is my middle name really Maximilian?"

_________________________________

The next day the academy calls all its students and trainers into the largest training room. The Selection Committee, which includes me, stares out into the sea of children waiting to hear who will be chosen to volunteer. Augustus gives the introductory speech since he's the most recent Victor, also marking my first year not presenting it since my games.

Augustus is finally over with the introductions, and he opens the envelope in his hands. "The male tribute selected by the Committee to volunteer for the 74th Annual Hunger Games is... Cato Smith!"

The Horn of Plenty plays on our speakers and Cato rises from his seat with his cohort as his peers pat him on the back and shake his hand. Once he reaches the podium, he shakes Augustus's hand and takes his place beside them.

I'm handed an envelope and I go up to the podium. As the most recent female Victor I get to announce the female selection. "And the female tribute selected by the Committee to volunteer for the 74th Annual Hunger Games is... Hadriana Lee!"

Hadriana makes her way up in a similar fashion to Cato and shakes my hand. I can see a disappointed looking Clove in the crowd who looks like she's thinking up a storm. I hope she doesn't try to do something stupid on reaping day.

Brutus takes the mic stand next. He thanks the many graduates who were never selected for the games for their time and dedication. Some graduates cry while others seem to be happy for the experience. Brutus finishes his speech with the Hunger Games slogan. "May the odds be ever in your favour."

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

That's all until Reaping Day Folks!

As always, thank you to my lovley beta ParadoxicalMoose  for helping out, and if you'd like to become a beta too, PM me!

Chapterly Memes for people who read the author's section:

Cato: Look dad it's the good kush.
Brutus, unimpressed: This is the dollar store, how good can it be.

Finnick: People always ask me what it's like to be a sexy- *falls putting his knee up and hits his head*

Octavia filming:
Finnick: Road work ahead? Uh, yea I sure hope it does.