CHAPTER SEVEN
eyes of experience

ELEANOR WONDERED WHY SHE BOTHERED WAKING UP. It wasn't like she had a good night sleep, since most the night she had spent laying on the windowsill, laying her head on the cool glass as she watched the rain fall. Almost a month had passed since that awful party and Eleanor hadn't stepped a foot outside of Victor Village. It was out of choice, an obligation she felt she owed herself. She was ashamed.

Something had changed since that night, things felt different. She thought she had gotten over her crush on Finnick, though clearly she hadn't. She thought hooking up with Claudia Jacobs would solve her teenage angst, maybe allow her to realise she had other options.

But as Claudia wisely said, it would always come back to Finnick.

She still had his shirt. Washed and cleaned, but not given back yet. If she gave it back, she might have to face these feelings head on and Eleanor didn't want that.

Nights in District 4 had grown more cold, since winter had consumed everyone. She had begun to resume a normal shift at St Magdalene Rossetti, along with the stark realisation that she also had a public image she needed to preserve in the eyes of the Capitol.

Lucille had been a great help, sending over dresses for Eleanor to wear whenever Capitol cameras would be involved. None were overwhelmingly extravagant, unlike the dresses Eleanor had been requested to wear while she mentored last year. Her fingers gently stroked the cotton material of the soft green cardigan Lucille had designed. The buttons were shaped as stars, a small token of Lucille within the outfit.

While she couldn't be here, helping Eleanor, the star buttons would be a small substitute for her absence.

Eleanor moved to the bedside cabinet, grabbing the black gloves and pulling them over her hands. She flexed her fingers, looking down at them with a smile. It was nice to not look at her hands bare. It was nice to feel concealed in one aspect, the artificial nature of her hands becoming detestable simply as it reminded her so much of the tragic end of Alina Scaro.

Unfortunately, today was the day that the victor of the 69th Hunger Games visited District 4. Eleanor had no bitter feelings towards the victor of the 69th Hunger Games. He was a small boy called Bradley Lovings, 15 years old with a gaunt, bloodlessly pale face. Unfavourably he was the victor by luck, not skill, not talent, just pure luck. He outlasted everyone by running at every chance he got, outlasting the final tribute simply because the girl had died from exhaustion. No one had really wanted him to win and it seemed as though even Bradley didn't want to win.

None of the victors seemed overly happy, dressed in their best clothes as the mayor read out a pre-written propaganda speech he seemed to always read out. Eleanor fiddled with the hem of her cardigan when she realised that Celine didn't have anyone to stand on the podium. No family to accept the speech presented to them, no family to mourn her.

Her mother must have been the only person left from that family.

Her heart ached at the thought.

"As a victor, I remain in debt to the Capitol and their generosity." Bradley didn't seem to agree with what he was saying. His eyebrows crossed together the more he read, more uncertainty in his voice. It was so obvious he hadn't even read the speech beforehand. Everything was raw, unfiltered. A pure reaction to a censorship. He had a far away look in his eyes.

Almost similar to the far away look her mother used to have and sometimes still had.

Eleanor swallowed back the bile forming in her stomach. She'd have to speak to Odette later, she thought to herself. That was the only thing she could do. She awkwardly shuffled on the spot, mindlessly joining the applause from the crowd along with all the other victors.

"To the families of the fallen, your children's sacrifices remind us everyday that-" Bradley cut himself off as he read on. He looked up from his cards, clenching his jaw. He must've not agreed with what had been written, finally voicing his own opinion. "I'm sorry your children had to be mindlessly slaughtered to pay for the mistakes of our ancestors."

No one clapped at that.

No one had the courage to.

From besides her, Varun was already muttering that 'the kid must have a suicide wish'. He was always so pessimistic, so filled with bitterness that Eleanor wondered how he had survived this long.

Eleanor nudged him, shaking her head at him the moment he glared her way. This wasn't the time or place to cause any arguments, especially with the cameras around them.

They could voice their opinions on this later when the cameras weren't watching their every move.

The awkwardness of cutlery scratching plates was loud, making Eleanor wish she could be swallowed up by the floor. All the victors joined the newest victor at a dinner, not a single soul talking. Eleanor gave a polite smile Odette's way, who returned the gesture.

During the course of the 69th Hunger Games, Eleanor and Odette had formed a friendship, practically forcing Finnick to third wheel. They had spent every moment together, crying with one another at any point during the games. Odette had been the one to comfort Eleanor when Celine had died during the blood bath, while Eleanor had been the one who held Odette as she cried from joy at finally having a successful tribute.

So, it was no surprise that Eleanor found Odette lurking outside with a cigarette in hand, practically throwing herself onto the girl the moment she stepped outside.

"Wanna drag?"

Eleanor shrugged, taking the cigarette out of Odette's grip. She inhaled, relishing in the smoke. She passed the bud back to Odette, who flicked at the bottom with her thumb. "You do realise you ought to quit?"

Odette laughed. "As if! Us victors gotta have our poison. I have my cigarettes, Haymitch has his booze, we all got our poison."

"Then what's mine?" Eleanor playfully crossed her arms over her chest, tilting her head to the side with an amused smile.

Odette shrugged. "Emotion repression." She laughed, nudging Eleanor with her elbow. "How have you been, by the way? Finnick doesn't half talk my ear off when he calls me. You need to phone me more too."

She gave a small smile, shaking her head side to side. "I would, but I don't like my phone."

"Why? It picking a fight with you?"

Eleanor shook her head. "Just don't wanna use it, I guess." She had a dark feeling that the phone lines were rigged. Unless proven otherwise, she refused to phone or answer a single person. Eleanor let out a sigh. "How's Bradley handling everything?"

There was a moment of brief hesitation, filled out with a sigh escaping Odette's cherry coloured lips. "Not good," Odette said, letting out a small huff as her shoulders hunched. She brought the cigarette to her lips, inhaling, She coughed as she exhaled. "He's quiet, not talking to anyone."

"You ought to check his house for needles," Eleanor whispered. "That boy shakes like a leaf and I know damn well that it ain't from nerves."

After all, Bradley didn't shake like that during his interview with Caesar Flickerman. He wasn't stage fright. He said it himself, he loved the camera.

"Needles?" Odette looked at Eleanor with confusion. She was blessed with the ignorance Eleanor lacked. Eleanor sighed heavily. "Why would Bradley have needles?"

"Morphling," She clicked her tongue as if the word was poison. "wouldn't surprise me if that's his poison." Eleanor remarked, grabbing her cigarette and taking another soft inhale. She breathed the smoke out, dropping the bud on the floor and putting it out with her foot. Odette didn't seem to care, she had many other ones. "You better make sure he isn't overusing. It's fatal, even if he goes over the daily amount by a tad bit."

"How do you know?"

"My Ma was addicted." Eleanor said casually, looking away momentarily. "Ruined my childhood, but at least I know the signs."

Odette averted her eyes away from Eleanor. "Sorry, I should've not asked."

"You didn't know." Eleanor replied, not bothered whatsoever. She looked away from Odette's intense stare, focusing on the outskirts. "Ma quit. She got off the morphling about ten months ago. She's clean."

Eleanor turned back, getting a glimpse of a Odette as she smiled. It was a nice sight, Odette was too young to look so old.  "That's good," the straight black haired girl played with the sleeves of her long dress. She fiddled endlessly. "Do you think I should get Bradley off it?"

Eleanor didn't know what to say. In an ideal world, she would've listed each way Odette could ween the newest victor off his addiction. But, this world was far from ideal. Bradley needed his poison, but he needed to be careful.

"Just..." She trailed off nervously. "Keep an eye on him, yeah?"

Odette nodded, though she didn't seem too thrilled. It was like she expected Eleanor to say something different, something actually useful.

But when had Eleanor ever been useful?

UM HELLO? id like to apologise to everyone who's been patiently waiting for a chapter. believe me, i'm trying to write but rn my main focus is revision for my a level exams.

i'm so excited for them to be over with bc that means i can write more of this and have more frequent updates. even if this is a monthly thing, this story will gradually be posted.

i'm so sorry for the delays

and thank you all for the patience and the growth we have had <3 i am so beyond elated.