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    JUPITER had been close to nineteen when she realised she was doomed. She still remembered the event that had cemented it in her that she would never escape what she had done and the cloud that hung over her. She had been a Victor for almost three years, and nothing had changed. No amount of glory or gold could make her glad she had won, and no amount of that would make her feel closer to her father.

    Her name compared to his in the news, her portrait hung on the same wall of the Academy as his, seeing the name Marrow in the Victor's Village again after three years. But Jupiter would never be Saturnus Marrow, and she was more aware of that everyday. She saw him in the one person she wished she didn't– Mars.

    Her brother had still not moved out, and Jupiter dared not ask him to. He came and went when he pleased, and he owned any room he stepped into. Jupiter had long learnt to keep her head down, as her brother said, 'she never had to win again.' It was a thinly-veiled threat that she was not in charge anymore.

    "Why're you looking at me like that?" she had asked that day as she packed her things for the train.

    "Look how excited you are," he had cooed. Jupiter narrowed her eyes but stayed quiet. "This won't last forever, you know?" Don't bite, don't bite, she repeated to herself. Mars moved towards her, and she winced out of reflex. "I'm talking to you," he snapped.

    Jupiter swallowed thickly. "I know."

    "Then look at me when I talk to you," Mars jeered.

    Jupiter looked up at him, not hiding the frown on her face or the way her eyebrows pinched. The expression only seemed to make her brother look more smug, all sharp edges and red eyes in her own bedroom. Someone she felt like the house had its own spirit, turned dark and cold by everything around them– it had never been home.

    "You're the Capitol's bitch until you're not interesting," Mars had told her, looking her straight in the eye. "Just remember that."

    He had said it to taunt her because he was jealous of her apparent success, that she was whisked away often and taken to the Capitol to be gawked at and celebrated simply for existing. Of course it was so much more complicated than that, but she was past begging her brother to shed a single tear over her.

    But it was her father. In that moment he had looked like him, telling her her fate in twisted tongues and with angry eyes. She had cried before the train ride once she had left the house, and her stylist, Lux, who was still new, had no idea how to deal with her.

    Jupiter, as always, had pulled herself together and made nice, she had let herself be pampered and prodded until she was enough for the Capitol, before being sent into the party like a lamb for slaughter.

    Mars' words did not leave her. For so long she had been content in her miserable but predictable routine, but now she wasn't so sure. As she accepted drinks and mingled, all she could do was manage her widest smile and bat her eyelashes. She didn't want to be stuck in that house– she didn't want her brother to win.

    And across the room, her eyes locked onto his. But only so briefly, Finnick was preoccupied with other endeavours– the ones that kept him alive the way her smile did for her. But at that moment, she didn't care.

    She had almost stormed over to him, sprawled across from a Capitol girl. Jupiter's arrival had commanded attention, her Victory still fresh at the time, and her face still plastered around annually. Until you're not interesting.

    "Finnick," she greeted. "Can I talk to you?"

    Her directness got his attention, as he made up some silver excuse to the Capitolite who only shushed him and grinned lazily. Jupiter pulled him away from the seat a little bit, looking up at him with hooded golden eyes and halfway between a frown and a smile at seeing him.

    "What is it?" he asked, sensing her urgency.

    "Can we get out of here?" she said without even hesitating.

    Finnick's eyes widened, and he glanced over his shoulder at the Capitolite. He looked back to her, all doe-eyed and shaking. "Jupiter, I have to–"

    "I'll pay you," she said desperately.

    He looked reluctant and confused. "I can't–"

    "Please," she whispered.

    She saw him swallow thickly, before he placed a hand on her shoulder. "Alright," he murmured. Jupiter watched as he returned to the Capitolite, brushing her off with a sweet kiss as he retrieved his coat. "Let's go," Finnick said quietly as he was back at Jupiter's side, hand on her elbow.

    She only nodded, obeying the unspoken rule that it was best not to be seen leaving by too many people. As they got into a car and passed through the flashing lights and towering buildings of the Capitol, Jupiter wondered if she was making the right choice. What she had with Finnick was special and brought her warmth– she'd never forgive herself if she ruined it in one night because she was sad.

    She should have been explicit, she scolded herself. Or maybe just kept quiet, which was a popular opinion back in 2. Now Finnick would expect something from her, and judging by the look in his eye as they travelled in silence, she feared she had made a move too bold.

    The hotel was clearly intended for the Capitolite he had been talking to, as they were escorted to the room which was bathed in red lighting and far from romantic. Finnick hardly seemed fazed, Jupiter figured she was closer with Finnick than any of the people he was forced to be with. And she wanted it to stay that way as she closed the door behind her and stepped past him.

    "Jupe," he said unsurely.

    "Don't call me that," she snapped.

    His face softened, and Jupiter sighed as she turned away, hugging her arms to her chest and looking out the window and over the city. Finnick approached her, but kept his distance, and in the reflection of the glass she knew he was looking down at her.

    "Okay," he murmured. She could feel his breath on her neck. "What's going on?" He had unbuttoned the top three buttons of his shirt. Jupiter watched him in the reflection, shoulders rising and falling rapidly.

    "I have a secret," she told him.

    "Well, usually I take secrets in exchange for a service," Finnick told her simply.

    She finally turned to him. "You're doing a service by listening."

    "Okay," he still sounded unsure.

    Jupiter brushed past him again and into the centre of the room, which was massive, with a canopy bed on a platform, and an en suite fitted with a tub and the same mood lighting. It faltered her thoughts for a moment, the utter set up of one of Finnick's arrangements as he moved past her and slumped on the bed, looking at her gently but expectantly.

    The female Victor made some frantic gestures with her hands, pressing her lips together and wondering where on earth to start. Finnick only looked at her silently, growing more concerned and confused by the minute. In the end, the anger took over and she opened her mouth.

    "I hate it here. I fucking hate it here," she spat, Finnick almost flinching at the venom in her words. But it didn't stop there– as words continued to spill from her mouth as if she had broken a seal.

    "I hate the Capitol and taking the train and dressing up as much as all of us. But Finnick, I hate it at home more. Snow keeps us all pinned by something. He'll take something away from us to control us, to prove that even though we won we didn't win." Finnick only looked desolately at her.

    "You know what he said to me after my games?" Her voice had gone very soft. "He said he would leave me alone, because winning had already ruined my life. I didn't need him to remind me why I needed the Capitol."

    She took a deep breath, feeling like her chest was going to implode. "And it's true," she continued, words she had never uttered to anyone leaving her mouth. "My older brother was the golden child, the one who was supposed to carry on my father's victory legacy. Mars Marrow– a name you wouldn't forget. But he wasn't chosen, he wasn't voted in by the Academy. Someone took his spot the year he took the test, and then he got too old, and time passed him by."

    Jupiter could feel her eyes getting watery, sniffing as she went on, Finnick only listening intently, sea green eyes on her. "And then I came along, sixteen with knives for fingers and performance grades that got me assigned to volunteer for 68. And I won– I survived, but not everyone sees it that way. Most of District 2 hates me. They think I undermined their training and betrayed their methods. I sunk my dad's name even further into the dirt because I took the easy way out just like he did."

    "My mother is dead to the world. She has been ever since my dad slit his wrists but I figured she'd come back around at some point. She feels like a robot these days and Mars–" she cut herself off. She didn't like talking about it. She never talked about it. Talking about it made it real and it made it something outside of sibling rivalry and squabbles.

    "My brother hates me. And I don't mean verbally or- or like siblings do," she got out, choking on the words. "I think he would kill me if he didn't enjoy telling me what to do so much. He thinks I ruined his life and stole his glory and denied him his birthright."

    "Does he hit you?" it was the only time Finnick interrupted her.

    Jupiter only blinked at him. "Yes."

    And, with angry tears in her eyes, she finally plopped down beside Finnick, the frills of her dress getting tangled in her legs. Finnick didn't move, but he watched her, frowning and looking at her in a way she had never seen before.

    "I have this overwhelming feeling of I just want to go home but nowhere is home," she let out between gritted teeth as she fought with her heels to kick them off. "And this will be my life– Mars told me. I'll be the Capitol's bitch until I'm not interesting anymore. And when I'm not interesting, when I fail, Snow will stop inviting me and I'll spend every day in that house."

    Her shoe came loose and she threw it at the wall with a yell. And then the other. And then she sobbed, face in her hands as she tried to block the pitiful sound. Finnick was watching her with wide eyes.

    "Is– I mean, are you okay if I touch–?"

    She nodded and his arm came around her shoulders soon, pulling her close. Jupiter couldn't even feel embarrassed through the slew of emotions that night, slumped against him as a mix of painful and angry tears leaked from her eyes and stained Finnick's suit and the perfect bedspread the room had provided.

    And she continued to talk: she told him of her father, of the treatment she received in District 2, how she had been branded a traitor simply for surviving. How maybe she wished she had died in that arena, if it would have been easier for everyone, including her.

    Finnick was there until the tears dried out and her voice turned croaky, and she was staring into space, processing the breakdown she had just had. Finnick still stayed quiet, pressed against her, as the night grew longer and longer. Jupiter couldn't even muster the energy to thank him, or worry about the consequences for him ditching his arrangement.

    Maybe he'd sell out her secrets and Snow would punish her. Maybe he'd laugh because he knew he was winning over her.

    "I could give you a secret in return," Finnick said abruptly.

    His voice was soft, and Jupiter slowly turned to look at him. She didn't even want to think about what she looked like in the moment– chapped lips, makeup probably ran a mile and red eyes. But Finnick was still looking at her with fondness, and gently brushing her hair back behind her ears, even when it continued to bounce back in curls.

    "You don't have to– really," she said, voice hoarse.

    He shook his head. "No, I want you to know."

    "You do?" she whispered, so surprised he still wanted to talk to her after she had spilt herself in front of him.

    He nodded. "You're the only thing I look forward to in the Capitol."

    Jupiter felt like she might cry again as he pressed a kiss to her forehead and held her close again.

    They had stayed like that for most of the night, wrapped in each other, seeking warmth in a place where there was none. Jupiter's confession came and went, and Finnick continued to gaze down at her like she had put the stars and moon in the sky.

    He talked about District 4, about his version of the Academy and how he had grown up, not dissimilar from her, save for the legacy aspect. How he had won and become the youngest Victor ever, how his life had changed in the years since and his childhood ended the day his name was chosen to volunteer. He talked about leaving it behind, making what he could of his life in a way that Jupiter hadn't understood.

    She played with his hair while they talked, and he traced circles on her back, in tune with the planets she had tattooed there. She felt like she could see into him now, past the exterior everyone else was given and past even the Victor face he put on.

    Finnick had told her more than secrets that night, he told her about him in a way she knew nobody else knew, and in turn, she gave him the same. It was perhaps the night Jupiter had realised what she had with Finnick was more than whispered sweet nothings and brief kisses in the Training Centre pool. It was something that grounded her, reminded her that there were still little things that brought her warmth in a cold routine.

    She could only hope he felt the same, as they inevitably grew tired and fell asleep in each other's arms, sleeping upon a bed made for something so unlike what they had done. But in a way, Jupiter considered it something more intimate. It was the most peaceful sleep had had since her father had been buried.

    And for a brief moment in time, Jupiter simply enjoyed life and Finnick's company, everything around them faint, and her future in the Capitol far from her mind.

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this is my fave chapter so far idc

also finnick's character will get a lot more insight and vulnerability in act 2/the future. for now it's just been setting up jupiter and her issues <3