Archive of Our Own ^beta

Chapter Text

Capitol parties are never truly fun, and the novelty wears off after the first ten parties. You've seen one, then you've seen them all. I don't care much for parties, but I pretend I do. That's how the Capitol works, you pretend.

The music has slowed, and the slow dancing begins. I briefly curl my lip in disgust, I hate how everyone can just dance without a care in the world. Well, that makes me a hypocrite. I dance and pretend like nothing ever bothers me. As a victor, we are the show ponies of the Capitol. Pets they can play with and dress up, no matter how much we hate it. We smile, we perform, and we degrade ourselves all for monsters. Even if we're drowning inside, we continue to play the game.

I grew up in District 1, the Capitol and its way of life are idolised there. Children are trained young for a chance to become victors in the Hunger Games. To become a victor is a great honor in my District. We're molded to crave attention, to achieve a level of superiority that you'll never quite achieve.The Capitol makes the 'attractive' victors feel wanted, desired, they make them feel like they're special. It's worse when your own parents don't love you, that's what sealed my fate. For a young man whose parents never cared about him, the Capitol were like a godsend for me. But, pretending is what the Capitol does best. Like their make-up conceals their flaws, the flattery conceals a darker side.

I shake my head to get rid of my thoughts, and take another sip of the champagne. It tastes cheap and lifeless, nowhere near enough to create that pleasant tipsy buzz. As expected from the Capitol, nobody would open up their finest bottles for a simple victor celebration party.

"Excuse me?" I look up and see who has spoken. A familiar looking boy is standing next to my table. His sea-green eyes seem to sparkle with a cheerfulness only found in youth.

"Yeah, what do you want?" I could be nicer, but I'm not here to entertain a child.

The teenager, to his credit, is unbothered by my tone. Instead, he just laughs and sticks out his hand.

"I'm Finnick Odair," Finnick grins. I recognise him now, the young man's face has been plastered everywhere in the Capitol since he won this year's Games. I see the playful mischief in his eyes. But, there's pain hidden in the depths, a feeling I've known for a long time now. I decide I might as well get to know him a bit better.

"Zircon," I shake his hand briefly, but I don't bother to tell him my surname. I'm not proud of it. My eyes catch movement, and I glance over to see Mags staring at me. She smirks, and does a small wave. I huff in response with a scowl, I'll have to talk to her later about this. Then, I turn back to Finnick after realising I have zoned out.

"So, did you see my Games?" Finnick puffs out his chest, eerily reminiscent of a peacock showing off. I roll my eyes but indulge him in conversation anyway. It would be rude to ignore him, especially when he was clearly to fit in. Maybe he is lonely, the hidden depths in his eyes certainly suggest loneliness. I know that feeling, to be surrounded by people but remain entirely alone.

"Who hasn't seen them?" I smile at him, trying to make him feel more at ease around me. When he smiles back, I can see that he's glad to be treated in a friendly way. He reminds me of when I was younger, I'm sure Haymitch and Mags would agree with what I put them through. However, I was eighteen so I didn't have youth as an excuse for my mischief.

"True, I wouldn't be surprised if everybody knows me." His bronze hair catches the light of the candles, and seems to shine. Every bit about his well-kept appearance screams 'Capitol stylists'. The thought makes me feel rather ill, mostly due to the way they encourage teenagers and children to look perfect at all times. All to please the wealthy and depraved snobs of the Capitol elite.

"If you're going to stay here," I move over to give him a place to sit. "We might as well have a chat."

"I wasn't going to leave," Finnick grins as he sits down beside me. I have to admit, despite his slight cockiness, he's a little bit endearing. If given different circumstances, the kid could have had a bright future. However, the glamorous life as a victor quickly falls apart, and your own life eventually doesn't even belong to you. I almost want to cry for him, but, I don't. I haven't shed tears for a while now, not while I am sober at least.

"So, what District are you from?" I already know, but I won't deny him a chance to talk to somebody.

"District 4," Finnick sounds proud of his home, I find myself wishing I could say the same about my own District. "Have you ever visited there?"

"Only on my Victory Tour," the memory of that almost makes me shudder. The Victory Tours were awful, especially when you see how many people there are who had their children never come home.

"You should see it sometime, the beach is very beautiful on sunny days." I notice that his face falls for a second, and I realise that there is a lot more depth to him than I thought. Here is a child far from his home, and he has just been thrown to the vultures.

"Do you miss home?" My heart goes out to him, I can understand homesickness.

"Is it wrong to admit that I do, Zircon?" I shake my head, and he relaxes. The poor kid is already submitting to Capitol training. Never speak your mind, keep up appearances, a lesson every victor learns quite quickly.

We sit in silence for a while, I can see he is getting tired and gesture for him to rest his head. As he lays his head on my shoulder, I'm alerted to just how tired Finnick is. However, I don't complain about being a pillow, I did offer for him to do so.

After a moment, all I hear from him is soft breathing near my ear. Chuckling softly, I adjust my position to make it more comfortable for him. As I do, someone approaches us rather quickly. I look up at who it is and smile brightly, it's Mags. With her slightly greying hair and kind smile, she could put anybody at ease.

"I apologise for sending him over to you without asking," I smile at her apology and shake my head.

"He's not so bad." Our voices are low and soft, and we do our best to avoid waking up Finnick. Mags nods and rests a gentle hand on my shoulder, I've always liked Mags. She reminds me of a mother, I wish she was my mother sometimes.

When I look at her, it's hard to imagine that she was once a formidable tribute. With her kind demeanor and calm patience, she does not look like a person who has hurt others. Mags looks at me, and I know that she has something important to say. Her eyes always darken when she is serious about something.

"He will go through what you did," she says hesitantly. My heart aches because I know she is right. Bile rises up in my throat, but I swallow it down before I choke on it. The Capitol will sell Finnick as soon as they can, just as they had done to me and countless others.

Finnick would need someone to talk to, someone who has lived through it. I know that I should take him under my wing, and teach him how to survive the Capitol so reality won't hurt as much.

"I know," the silence is broken by my words. "I'll be there for him."

I glance down at my shoulder, and see that Finnick is still dozing. My lips curl upwards, and I let him sleep for a while longer. Mags sits down on my other side, I know she's also keeping watch over Finnick. At this moment, Mags and I have the same goal. To be there for Finnick, no matter what happens. While I can't save him from his fate, I can still be someone he can rely on when things get tough.

Mags may have been his mentor for the Games, but I'm his mentor for the deadlier arena.

Chapter Text

"So, my victory tour is gonna happen soon." I'm startled from my thoughts as I hear Finnick speak. Of course it would happen, every victor has to visit the Districts to and celebrate their victory. To the Capitol, it's a grand affair and a way for them to show off their newest victors.

The reality of those tours is to isolate victors from the Districts, to sever any bond between them. It dehumanizes the victors to the Districts, causing them to not see the victors as 'one of their own'.

"Oh, yes." I use a teaspoon to swirl my tea, and look at him for a moment. My lips form a small smile, as I try to look happy for him. Finnick doesn't know what I'm really thinking, which is for the best.

"Mags and my prep team are coming with me," Finnick’s sea-green eyes meet mine and he grins broadly. "You're coming too, right?"

I'm lost for words at the question, for a moment all I can do is just stare blankly at him. Me? Attending Finnick's victory tour? To my knowledge, that hasn't happened before. Typically the tours are taken by the victors, their mentors and their prep teams. However, Finnick seems to be under the impression that I would be going too.

"Me? I'm not sure if that's allowed." While it may never have been done before, there was no guarantee that it would be against the rules to do so.

"But I want you on the tour as well." Finnick seems quite set on the idea. "I can tell them that I'm going through changes, and that I feel more comfortable asking another guy about it."

It's a clever idea, I'm almost proud of how quickly he thought it up. As ridiculous as it sounds at first, it's a plausible excuse. As I think more about it, I chuckle at the idea. It would certainly cause a stir amongst the Capitol, but for the right reasons.

Yes, this could work in the Capitol's favor. Allowing a victor to invite someone who wasn't a part of their games could benefit their image. It would show the Districts that the Capitol is accommodating and that they care about the victors. In reality, all it would do is stroke their egos.

"Well, we'll talk to the organizers about it. They have the final say." Finnick's eyes light up, and I find myself genuinely smiling in response. From the brief amount of time that I've known him, I enjoy his company. 

Finnick has a sense of humor that never fails to make someone chuckle, and underneath his confidence is a genuinely kind-hearted person. That is rare to find amongst other victors, even rarer to find in the Capitol itself. If having me accompany him on his victory tour is what he wants, I'll do my best to make it happen. Maybe I can talk to Mags and ask for her opinion on the situation.

"Hey, Zircon? Zircon!" My attention immediately focuses on Finnick, who is staring at me in concern. A sigh escapes my lips, I have been lost in my own thoughts again. I really should work on that, it's rude to ignore someone even unintentionally.

"Sorry, I'm a bit out of it today." I try to ease the awkward tension with a chuckle, thankfully Finnick also laughs.

"Don't worry. I get it," Finnick's eyes meet mine, and I see the cheerful sparkle which I hope never disappears. I ruffle his hair, and earn a grunt of annoyance as he swats my hand away. I laugh, almost embarrassingly loudly, it's fun to play around with him like this. It's been too long since I have had somebody that I genuinely have a good time with.

"So, are you ready for your first Victor’s Meeting?" The Victor’s Meeting is an unofficial get together usually attended by previous victors of the Hunger Games. It's a time for victors to catch up with others every month or so, it also happens whenever a new victor wins the Hunger Games.

"I'm a bit nervous," Finnick admits after a moment. "I mean, I've never met these people and what if they don’t like me?" I pause whatever I was about to say to think about his concerns, I had felt that way once. Indifference to what other victors think was a key aspect of survival in the Capitol. You have to show everyone that their opinions don't bother you, it's time that I give Finnick my first lesson in how to act in the Capitol.

"Who cares what they think?" I realise that I didn't have my tea earlier, and try to take a sip from the teacup. It's cold now, and I put it back on the table.

"What do you mean?" Finnick looks at me, similar to a confused puppy, and I remember that Finnick is still young. Young people are self-conscious and care too much about other people’s opinions. I'll be the first to admit it, I was in the same position at his age.

"What I mean is, don't worry about what others think of you." I smile as I talk, hoping that he catches on to what I'm trying to say. "People will like you, people will hate you, and nothing can really change their minds about it." Finnick frowns slightly, but then he seems to catch on to my unspoken message.

"So, I have to just ignore what they say?"

"Yes, you need to make them think that you don't care about their opinions." Finnick nods, and I smile at him. He learns quickly, and adaptability is one of the best weapons for survival. My eyes drift towards a clock on the wall, the meeting will be starting about two hours from now.

"What should I wear?" My attention is once again drawn to Finnick, who seems eager to hear my opinion. As if I knew what clothes he should wear, I don't even know what kind of clothes he owns.

"Whatever you feel comfortable in, we might be there a while." I hope we won't be there long, I can't stand most of the attendees that would be there.

"Will Mags be going?" Finnick's question makes me chuckle, but I nod.

"Yeah, she'll be there." There is no way Mags would leave Finnick by himself at the meeting. Well, he'll have me there too, but Mags knows him better. She had been Finnick's mentor, which was a bond not easily broken. Well, that's how it should be anyway. Not everybody gets mentors who care.

I watch as Finnick goes into a room to get changed. Now alone, I can finally just have some time to myself. The cold tea needs to be dealt with, so I grab the teacup and head towards the sink. Pouring the liquid down the drain, I let myself think about my own mentor, Sterling.

Now that I'm older, I know that she is a damaged woman who suffered through the Games as well. However, I can never forgive her for what she did. I wish someone would have been there to support me after my victory, I had to learn everything about life as a victor on my own.

She doesn't give a damn about anybody outside of herself, and often left any winning tributes that she mentored to fend for themselves. I place the empty teacup down after I feel my grip starting to tighten. The last thing I need is shards of ceramic everywhere, or getting blood all over the nice clean bench.

In a way, I'm a little envious of Finnick. He has Mags who actually cares about him, and he has me in his corner as well. I never had that, but I try not to dwell on it. The past is the past, nothing can change that.

"Zircon!" Finnick breaks my concentration, and I turn my head to see him. The outfit he's wearing is both stylish but practical, a form fitting green shirt with blue slacks and comfortable shoes.

"Yeah, that's a good outfit for the meeting." Shrugging off my jacket, I toss it to him. He catches it, as expected from someone with fast reflexes.

"You're letting me borrow this?"

"The air conditioner gets cold in those meetings." With a quick appraisal, I notice that the jacket pairs nicely with the shirt. Well, black went with most colors. The smile I receive in return for my generosity is infectious, and my own lips curve upwards slightly.

"Thanks," Finnick looks up at me, and I realise that he's probably going to have a growth spurt soon. He better not get taller than me, that would be humiliating.

It has been two hours since Finnick and I had gotten ready, and we arrive at the Victor's Meeting roughly on time. Looking around, I see that some of the attendees are already in little groups.

"Good to see you, Zircon!" I grin and turn around to hug Chisel. He won the Games a year after mine, and we've been friends ever since. Chisel hugs back tightly, then we break apart. While we're not the best of friends, he's the oldest friend I have here.

"Chisel, this is the newest victor Finnick." I smirk as I see Finnick's eyes widen in awe, it reminds me of when I first met other victors.

"You did well in your games," Chisel says to Finnick. "Youngest ever victor? That's a great achievement." Brown eyes meet my own briefly, and we share a silent agreement to not dampen Finnick's spirits today. It was better to praise him than make comments about how kids shouldn't have to kill each other.

"It was mostly the sponsors who helped out," Finnick pretends to be modest. It was a good strategy in case we are being monitored, you praise the Capitol and make it seem like your efforts were because of their aid.

As they talk, I look around to see if anybody else has arrived. There are a few faces I recognise, but then there's one I didn't expect. Sterling, what is she doing here? I try to look away before she realises I saw her, but she sees me. Forcing myself to smile, I offer a polite wave. To my relief, she just nods and turns away from me.

A few more people show up, and Chisel calls my name.

"Zircon! Meeting's about to start." Chisel gestures to a seat between him and Finnick, so I take that one. Mostly to keep an eye on Finnick, but I do enjoy sitting next to Chisel. He sneaks me extra cupcakes when they’re served.

This month's host is, to my horror and surprise, Sterling. Chisel nudges me, and I softly swat him on the arm in return. Today's meeting will be even more tedious for me now.

"Good morning, everyone. To start with, I would like to say that this meeting is to welcome Finnick Odair to our ranks." Everyone turns to look at Finnick, and I notice him puff his chest out proudly as they applaud him.

"Thank you, I'm glad to be here.” Finnick smiles and I see the other victors all relax a little, some even smile back. So far so good. Mags looks proud as well, she is sitting on Finnick's other side with a twinkle in her eyes.

"With that out of the way," Sterling's eyes sweep the room for a moment before she continues. "I would also like to thank the staff who have generously provided the refreshments for today." I almost scoff at the fake sincerity she shows, but that will draw unwanted attention to me.

"Right, let's all eat the refreshments and relax a little." Chisel spoke up, and others agreed with murmurs or nods. Sterling looks annoyed that somebody else took the spotlight from her. Which is good, because she talks too much. People get up from the table, and go back to mingling with one another.

Someone tugs on my sleeve, and I see Finnick staring at me intently.

"Do you know her?" I raise my eyebrow, unsure of who he's talking about. He points at somebody, and I look over. He's pointing at Sterling, and I fight the urge to groan. Do I really have to tell Finnick about her?

"Yes," I sigh, I just can't hide my disdain for the situation. "That’s Sterling, she’s from District 1." Finnick smirks, and I realise the thoughts going on in his head.

"Was she your girlfriend?" The retch that comes out of my mouth could not be held back. Chisel laughs and I shoot him a glare that he ignores. I would rather gouge out my eyes and eat them than consider Sterling as a partner.

"No," the word comes out faster than I can process what I am saying. "Sterling was my mentor." I should not have told him that, because his expression turns from mocking to curious.

"She's your mentor?” Finnick asks. "Can I meet her?" I glance at Chisel, silently begging for his help. Instead, he just grins and wanders off.

"I'm sure Sterling is quite busy," I hope that I'm right. "Maybe some other time, okay?" The disappointment on his face makes me feel a bit guilty. However, I refuse to submit to my guilt. Life is full of disappointments, Finnick needs to get used to them.

"You're Finnick, right?" I scowl when I see who decided to interrupt our conversation. I'd recognise the blonde hair, pouty lips, and bad style anywhere. Anemone.

"Yeah," Finnick's attention is now solely on Anemone, which is both a blessing and a curse. She smiles, but it isn't reaching her eyes. Fake, like almost every other person here.

"Good to see a District 4 victor, instead of the usual winning Districts." Anemone shoots me a sly glance over Finnick's head, and I roll my eyes in response. She always has been childish, and never seemed to grow out of her teenage years.

"Do you know Zircon?" Finnick asks her, and I feel my blood run cold. Why is he bringing me into the discussion? The last thing I want is to be associated with Anemone.

"We know each other, but that's all." Anemone's tone is polite, but I know her. I see it in her eyes, she despises me. "We never quite saw eye-to-eye." That's a nicer way of saying that we can't stand each other.

"Well, I should introduce Finnick to some of the other victors." I decide to try and end the interaction as soon as I can, and hopefully get away from her. "Have a good day, Anemone." As I guide Finnick over to where Mags was talking with Haymitch, I feel Anemone's gaze on my back.

I know for a fact that she hasn't gotten over everything that happened, not that I expect her to. I just want to forget about that part of my life.

"You don't like her much, do you?" Finnick's question surprises me, and I turn to look at him.

"What?"

"I could feel some tension between you two, what happened?" There was no way I was going to talk about what happened with Finnick, not here anyway.

"Sometimes people don't get along and are on bad terms." I really don't want to tell him about how Anemone hated me from the start. I also don't want to mention her bitterness towards my successes.

"If you want my opinion, good call not liking her." His comment makes me laugh, Finnick was definitely right about that one.

"I guess so."

After the meeting was over, I meet up with Chisel again before I have to leave. He smiles at me, and I smile back. I can see the amusement in his eyes, and sigh to myself.

"Well, that meeting must have been a fun one for you.” I shake my head with a scoff, that was the understatement of the century.

“Yeah, between Anemone and Sterling I almost wanted to stab a fork into my neck." I laugh at my own joke, and he does too. It had been a somewhat awkward meeting, but least I had his and Finnick's company during it. Otherwsie I probably would have gone mad.

"Keep in touch, alright?" Chisel grabs my hand and shakes it. I nod and offer a smile.

"I will," it's an empty promise. Chisel often goes back to District 2, we only really talk when he visits the Capitol. Those times are quite rare, but I don't blame him for never visiting. I never leave this place, mostly due to my own choice, but I can understand why he does. After a brief wave, he turns away from me and leaves for the train station.

After he leaves, I try to find Finnick and Mags. I see Mags talking to a Capitol official, someone in charge of the victory tours by the looks of things. When I reach them, Finnick grins and waves as the official leaves.

"Mags asked one of the organizers if you are allowed to come on my victory tour."

"Really? Well, what did they say?" Hopefully they agreed, otherwise I am sure I'd have to deal with Finnick complaining about it. Mags looks over at me and smiles, so I assume that means I am allowed to attend.

"They said you can come with us," Mags says cheerfully. "Although, this hasn't happened before." I smile at her observation, she's right of course.

"Well, I guess there's a first time for everything." My words make them both chuckle.

Like every victory tour, this one would likely be a miserable experience for everyone involved. Just thinking about it makes me remember my own victory tour. You never forget it, and the memory stays with you no matter how long you live.

Finnick will have his first taste of what a victor's life is like, and that taste will be bitter.

Chapter Text

As I am laying down on my bed, I hear the sound of somebody losing their lunch. Or, more specifically, their sweets. The groan can be heard from the other side of the train, and I grimace at the sound.

I warned him, but he didn't listen. There's someone gargling what I hope is mouthwash in the other room, then footsteps approach my door.

"I threw up."

The look on Finnick's face can only be described as 'pathetic'. His eyes stare helplessly at me, pleading with me to help him. With a resigned sigh, I sit up and gesture for him to come over.

Finnick walks over, and I study him for a moment. This was not just caused by eating too fast, no, he's anxious.

"I suppose you want to stay here for a bit?" The question barely has time to hang in the air when he clambers onto my bed. He stretches out beside me, and smiles.

"Aw, how nice of you!" As if I have a choice in the matter. I struggle to hide my amusement, Finnick was a funny guy. Sometimes.

"Just stay on your side," I warn him despite my smirk. "Or else." Finnick's eyes glint with what I can only describe as playful malice. He shuffles closer, then rolls over so he's on his side. My mouth drops open in shock, the little shit has decided to take my words literally.

"I am on my side." The grin I'm getting is almost infuriating. Almost, but, deep down I'm glad to see that he's happy. I know all too well how stressful the Victor's Tour can be. The happier he is then the happier we'll all be. I study him for a moment and despite the mischief in his eyes, there's also worry. I realize then that he needs me to comfort him. I just have to do so in a subtle way so he doesn't realize it.

"You know what I meant, Little Fish." My tongue clicks in playful disapproval as I speak. I know that nickname will make him annoyed, he hates it.

"I'm not a fish!"

"But you are little." Before I can do anything, I feel a heavy weight plonking itself down on me. In retaliation for my teasing, Finnick has decided to crush my organs instead. Fine, two can play at that game. My instincts from my time as a tribute told me to overpower him, but I don't do that. This is play fighting , I tell myself.

Restraining myself, I continue to roughhouse with Finnick. The thought of him potentially throwing up on me briefly crosses my mind, but he seems better now. He's surprisingly strong, but that's to be expected from what I know about his Games.

"Give up!" Finnick tries his best to hold me down, it's almost like a kitten trying to pin down a wolf. I can throw him off easily, but I let him have his small victory.

"Ah, yes. I can't fight anymore, you win." My voice is sarcastic, but I try to add some humor into my tone.

"Liar," Finnick calls my bluff. "Don't hold back." The thought flashes across my mind before I answer.

"If I don't hold back, you'll be injured." Not only that, but Mags would be angry with me. Nobody wants her angry at them, Haymitch had learned that lesson long ago. Finnick seems to recognise the warning in my voice, and backs down.

"It's a draw, okay? I didn't lose!"

"Yeah, a draw." We both look at each other for a moment, and then burst into laughter. It feels good to just relax and enjoy things, times like this are something to treasure. The laughter dies down, and we lay in a comfortable silence. My gaze drifts to the clock beside my bed, it wouldn't be long before we arrived at District 12.

Finnick eventually settles down, getting under the covers. He glances at me, then says something I didn't expect.

"I can still stay in here with you, right?" I don't have the heart to refuse him.

"Alright, but remember, stay on your side." Finnick nods and smiles at me. Then, he closes his eyes and starts to doze off. With a sigh, I too get under the covers to try and get some sleep. The deep and even breathing I hear beside me tells me that Finnick is asleep.

I close my eyes, trying to focus on the sound of my own breathing. In truth, I'm just as anxious as he must be. District 12, we'll be arriving there soon. The thought unsettles me, the place was depressing and a stark reminder of how the Capitol sees the Districts as trash. Finnick will be in for a shock, and I am not looking forward to that fallout. He thinks that being a victor is something to be proud of, that the Districts will celebrate with him.

What should I do? The thought enters my mind quickly. How do I stop this from crushing him? The truth is simple, I can't. The illusion of grandeur he might have will be fractured once he sees what the lower Districts are like.

It's no good dwelling on it, there's nothing I can do to stop anything. A victor has to learn the truth sooner or later, I just hope that he's strong enough to withstand it.

After a horrible attempt at meditation, I feel my mind starting to slow down. Sleep, at last. As soon as I doze off, something invades my personal space. I open my eyes and see Finnick, he seems so anxious in his sleep. It feels like I'm a parent, allowing their child to hug them after a bad dream.

It doesn't feel awful, and the only thing I feel is sympathy for him. Finnick's just a kid, he doesn't deserve what has happened to him. He doesn't deserve what will happen to him in the future, either. For now, I can offer him a brief sanctuary from the world. Begrudgingly, I rest my arm over him comfortingly. He better not breathe a word of this to anybody.

When I wake up, I feel that Finnick is still pressed against me. I can hear his snoring near my ears, it would be comical if it wasn't so loud. I try to move, but know that doing so would disturb him. Someone's gaze is on me, and I look up to see Mags in the doorway. She smiles, her eyes twinkling with amusement. I playfully scowl at her, and she just shrugs then leaves. I look at the time, and realize that it has been two hours. Fuck.

"Okay, get up." I decide to wake Finnick, nudging him with my shoulder. Finnick groaned and rolled over, almost falling out of the bed. I grab him before he does, and he glares at me.

"What was that for?"

"We're almost at District 12. Time for you to have a shower and get changed." Finnick rolls his eyes, but nods and gets up. I chuckle at how disgruntled he looks. That expression soon changes into a softer expression, he looks like he wants to say something important.

"Hey, Zircon?" Finnick's voice was uncharacteristically soft.

"Yeah?"

"Thanks for letting me stay here with you." I smile, knowing that I would have done that and more for him if I had to.

"Anytime," and I mean it. Though, I wonder if he truly understands the implication behind my words. He can come to me to tell me anything, no matter what. Finnick smiles and leaves, and I lay in my bed for a moment longer. Staring up at the ceiling, I let out a tired sigh. No, I'm not tired. Just feeling old. Is this what Mags feels like all the time?

Forcing myself to get up from my bed, I walk to my room's wardrobe and look through it. Eventually something catches my eye, a blue poet shirt with black slacks. It was a simple outfit, but still had some elegance. Not that I care much about fashion anymore. I will look presentable but won't take the attention away from Finnick. With any luck, I won't be noticed at all. As I put on my clothes, I can't help but think back to my own tour. Seeing the lower districts had been a shock, but back then I didn't really care too much. Selfishness is a common trait in some victors, and I had plenty of it. Deciding that I can't keep getting stuck in my own head, I walk to the bathroom sink. After turning on the tap, I splash my face with the icy water.

"Zircon! Train's about to stop!" Finnick's voice shouts at me from across the train, he sounds excited. Poor kid, he has no idea what's coming to him. I leave my room and make my way over to where the others are waiting. When I get there, Finnick flashes me that impish grin that always seems to be glued to his face.

"Ready for your big moment?" Mags asks him with a smile.

"I just have to read the speech they gave me, right?" Finnick looks down at the crumpled paper in his hands. I chuckle as I remember how boring the speeches were, repeating the same thing in each District. I hope he packed some throat medicine, he'll need it.

"Read the speech and smile," my advice comes naturally before I even put thought into it. My own mentor had told me the same thing, that was how you survive the Capitol. 

You have to play along and smile, no matter what.

Chapter Text

"On behalf of the Capitol, and myself, I would like to send my condolences to the families of the tributes who were lost…" Finnick's voice is sincere, but I can hear the slight wavering tone.

He's unsettled, and he has every reason to be. The lower Districts are never quite fond of Victors from Districts like 4 or 1. Every year, most of their tributes die quite early on. I hear Finnick rambling on with the speech, but I tune out most of the words. I've heard it all before, always the same thing.

So, I turn my focus onto watching the crowd that has gathered. They all look miserable, but some are trying to put on polite smiles as they listen to the empty Capitol words. I glance at Finnick, and see his expression fall slightly. He's upset he's not receiving a triumphant welcome, he's not a hero to these people. No, he's a reminder of what they've lost.

"Thank you all for being here, I appreciate the time you have given me." Finnick finishes the speech, and I watch the crowd again. Insincere and miserable, that's what these people are. The Capitol escort, whose name I didn't bother to learn, eventually wraps up the spectacle after the applause.

Finnick goes over to Mags with a troubled look on his face. Knowing I'll be needed, I head over to them. Mags is rubbing Finnick's back comfortingly, and I have to say something.

"You alright?" My question sounds so informal, but it gets to the point.

"Why are they so miserable?" Finnick sounds lost, confused even. "I'm from the Districts as well, surely they'd be happy I won?" It's time someone taught Finnick about the complexity of relations between Districts.

"Well…" How do I explain this without sounding stuck up or prejudiced? "Lower Districts are not fond of our Districts. You see, to them, it's unfair that most of our tributes win every year."

"So, they hate us? They hate me?" Finnick's voice wavers again, and I realize he is about to cry. Shit. I quickly grab him and pull him into a firm hug.

"Not us in particular." Yes actually, every victor who isn't their own. "But who cares what they think? You're a survivor, and you won fair and square. They're bitter, but that's not your fault." My lips form a small smile, and I hope it helps him feel a little bit better.

Finnick looks up at me, nods and then hides his face again. My shirt is at risk of getting drenched, but it's a small price to pay.

"Finnick," Mags finally speaks up after her long silence. "No matter where you go on this tour, there will be people who may not like you. But that is not your issue, so try not to take it to heart."

"Because they're bitter," Finnick says after a moment, briefly looking at Mags. "Is that right?" Mags gives me a sharp look, and I know I have to try and explain it properly.

"I didn't mean to phrase it like that," I'm trying to figure out a way to properly navigate this conversation. Mags is not helping at all, which is fair enough because I'm the one that got myself into this mess.

"You're not good at explaining, are you?" Finnick's voice is muffled from his face being buried into my shirt again.

"I'm bad at wording things sometimes. What I meant to say was this; If a victor is not from their District, then they're going to be disappointed. They're not happy that you won, but that's got nothing to do with you." Mag's stern look softens slightly, and I let out a soft sigh of relief. Crisis averted.

"So, it's not my fault?" Finnick's green eyes look up at me for reassurance, his lower lip trembling slightly.

"No, they'd react the same way if you had been someone else." I remove one of my arms from around him, and ruffle his hair. The action earns me a faint chuckle, at least he's feeling a bit better.

Soon footsteps approach, and I turn my head to see who made them. A well-dressed man, by District 12 standards anyway, makes his way towards us on the podium. I let go of Finnick, and he wipes at his eyes to compose himself. I spare a quick look at my shirt, surprisingly there isn't a wet patch.

"Mr Odair?" The man addresses Finnick formally, and Finnick quickly smiles at him. "We're ready to begin the tour."

"Alright, lead the way!" Oh, poor Finnick has no idea what he's in for. I share a knowing glance with Mags, and she shakes her head slightly. I agree, it's best Finnick finds out what District 12 is like for himself. Seeing something so shocking builds character, it's a rite of passage that all victors must go through.

As we walk with the mayor and the prep team, I glance around at the surroundings. Even the so-called 'Merchant District' looks subpar at best. I don't feel bad for thinking it, I'm sure most other career victors would agree. Anybody would agree, except the Capitol who don't care at all. Sometimes I wonder if the Capitol even knows about the conditions that the lower Districts like 12 or 11 have to deal with.

Finnick is silent, and I glance over to check on him. While his expression is neutral, I can see the subtle discomfort in his mannerisms. Feeling slightly concerned about him, I make sure to walk a bit closer to him. In response, Finnick gives me a small smile which lets me know that he's grateful for the reassurance

"Here is our Justice Building," the mayor's voice cuts into my thoughts. I scowl slightly at the interruption, in truth I had forgotten he was there until now. The Justice Building looks quite similar to District 1's building. I guess the Capitol, despite what they want us to believe, lacks creativity.

"Can we explore that place?" Finnick asks the mayor, after gesturing to the direction of the Seam. The mayor shakes his head and chuckles as if Finnick told him a joke.

"Ah, regrettably we don't have time for that at the moment. We'll show you your lodgings." Excuses, the mayor just wants to save face by not showing us the Seam. As if he thinks what we see now is a 'good' impression of District 12.

As we are escorted to where we will be staying, I notice a couple of people staring at us. I lean in and decide to instruct Finnick on what to do.

"People are looking at you. Big smile, wave." Finnick looks over at the people and waves, his grin almost blindingly white. They awkwardly wave back, looking more uncomfortable than pleased. But, then again, anybody would look uncomfortable if they lived in this District.

When we finally reach our lodgings, the first thing I notice is the lack of available rooms.

"Do we have to bunk together?" Finnick asks me.

"Guess so," I look around the room that Finnick and I will be staying in. The decorations are minimal, a very stark contrast from the Capitol's typical decor. I prefer this, minimal is better than crowded.

"I call dibs on the left side!" Finnick rushes in before I can react to what he just said. I'm left staring blankly after him, blinking a few times. I wonder where he gets his energy from? As he flops onto the bed and stretches out, I try to figure out where we can store our clothes. A small wardrobe is in the room, and I get to work placing my own outfits in there.

"If you're done lazing about, put your clothes away." I say as I glance at him. Finnick smirks at me and reclines further on the bed.

"Nah, you'd do it better than me." I roll my eyes and finish putting away my clothes.

"I'm not your maid, put your clothes away ." I shake my head at him, showing my disapproval of his laziness. Not that I think he cares about that.

"What's a maid?"

He's joking, right? Finnick looks at me, and I realise he's not joking.

"A maid is somebody who is paid to clean a family's house and cook food for them." Thankfully, I somehow manage to not sound like an asshole while I explain.

"That's a thing?" Finnick asks, sounding as if he doesn't believe me.

"Yeah, it is. My family has a maid, it's fairly common amongst wealthy families." Or at least, families that have slightly more money than their peers.

"Oh, okay." Finnick doesn't seem bothered about the concept of maids. "Is your maid nice?"

I think back to Velvet, she has always been a kindly woman. Although, I stop myself from thinking too much about my childhood and growing up. That period of my life is unimportant anyway. Or so I tell myself.

"Yes, she is." He doesn't ask any further questions, thankfully. However, Finnick still makes no move to put his clothes away. Frowning slightly, I cross my arms and hope he gets the message.

"What are you staring at?" Finnick asks with a small smirk.

"Put your damn clothes away. Like I told you." I get an exaggerated sigh in response, but he does as he's told. Teenagers are insufferable, but, I suppose I was the same at his age. Probably worse, actually. Taking off my shoes, I finally lay down on the bed. It's a firm mattress, but not in the 'healthy for your back' way. However, it's better than standing on my feet all day.

"Okay, the clothes are away. Can we do something fun now?" Finnick's voice disturbs me from my attempt at relaxing. Fun? There's nothing 'fun' to do on these tours. Sighing, I sit up to look at him properly.

"I have a fun thing to do."

"Really?"

"Yeah. It's called the Quiet Game ." Surely he isn't gullible enough to fall for this.

"My mother and I played that once," Finnick says. "I lost. So, I wanna play a game where I win." I can't tell if he's being serious or not, but I don't say anything. Nodding, I lie back down on the bed. Like a shadow, he copies my exact movement which makes me chuckle.

"How about I tell you a story?" Finnick stares at me with a look of indignance.

"I'm not a baby!" You are to me , the words almost leave my mouth. For a moment, I'm unsure of what I can do to entertain him. My last major interaction with a teenager, who wasn't Finnick, was ten years ago in the Arena. Back then, I had slit their throat. Probably not the best way to interact with others.

"Fine," I sigh once more and examine my nails. "I guess you don't want to hear about the incident ." There is no real incident, I just want to mess with him.

" The incident ?" The intrigue in his voice almost makes me laugh.

"I lied, there was no incident. Got you interested in a story though, huh?" He frowns at me after he hears my laugh, which almost makes me laugh harder. His nose is scrunched up, and the glare he has is almost adorable. Like a toddler having a tantrum.

Boy am I glad I'm not dealing with a real toddler.

"Jerk," Finnick mutters under his breath. He thinks I can't hear him, how cute. Humoring him, I pretend I didn't hear anything.

"Lighten up, you have a dinner to get ready for soon."

"Yeah, but it's not dinner time now." I sit there for a moment, the audacity he has to talk back to me is unbelievable.

"You still have to get ready and make yourself presentable." He pouts, and I may or may not have a fight on my hands.

"I am presentable!" I can't disagree, he does look somewhat presentable. Enough to impress District 12 anyway, but that's not hard to do. I could just give up now and let him win, but that's not in my nature.

"Don't you dare make me call Rufus to come in here." Rufus is Finnick's stylist, and he's insufferable. That seems to make Finnick lose his bravado, thankfully.

"You wouldn't."

"Won't I?"

Finnick is silent for a moment, then lets out a frustrated groan.

"I hate playing dress up! Why can't I wear what I want?" Because you don't get choices as a victor. That's what he needs to learn, that he doesn't get a choice in what happens to him. How do I explain this to him in a way he'll understand?

"Unfortunately, there's rules we have to follow. Which includes being dressed up." That's the most kid-friendly way I can explain it.

"But I don't like the outfits Rufus makes for me!" I don't like them either, Rufus makes Finnick show too much skin. Finnick is a child, there's no reason to make him wear such revealing attire. I feel my temper starting to rise, and try to control it.

"What don't you like about them?" I decide to ask him about it.

"If I tell you, will you get mad at me?" No, no I won't.

"Of course not. If you're uncomfortable or something's bothering you, you can always tell me about it."

"I don't like how tight they are," Finnick says after a moment of silence. "I can't really move my legs much, and it feels weird in some areas."

He doesn't have to explain what areas they are, I can guess.

"If you find those clothes uncomfortable, you tell him that." I say, trying to show him that he should stand up for himself.

"He'll be upset."

"Maybe, but your comfort matters more." I place my hand on his shoulder. "If you don't like what he makes you wear, you don’t have to wear them." Finnick's eyes glance at the ground, then flick back up to meet mine.

"It feels weird, telling somebody who worked hard on the outfits that I don't like them." So Finnick is the type to care about hurting someone's feelings? I didn't have such empathy at his age.

"How about this, I'll tell him on your behalf. Okay?" Finnick smiles at the suggestion, looking a bit more like his usual happy self.

"Thank you." His arms wrap around me, and I hug him back.

"Okay, okay. Let go, and we'll get ready for the feast." I feel the vice-like grip around my body loosen, and Finnick grins at me.

"What kind of food will be there?"

Knowing District 12, nothing spectacular.

"I don't know, I guess we'll find out."

Chapter Text

The dinner is, as I expected, nothing special. Mostly just all of us eating in silence, with occasional small talk. Despite my better judgment, I can't help but glance at Rufus. What Finnick told me earlier is still living rent free in my head.

His outfits are making the kid uncomfortable, and I know I should do something about it. Mags would disapprove, I'm sure of it. However, Finnick needs someone to stand up for him. That person is me. Rufus glances back at me, and I decide to look away. My body remains tense, but I make a conscious effort to loosen my grip on the glass in my hand.

I'll deal with him later, right now I should focus on Finnick.

Finnick, to his credit, seems to be handling things well. He's smiling and seems to be interested in whatever the mayor is saying. However, I notice that his eyes are glazed over. He's just as bored as I am.

While I take another bite of the meat, Mags leans in close.

"We need to talk," she says. "After dinner, come find me." For a moment I'm confused, what does she want to talk to me about?

"Am I in trouble, Mags?" I ask with a chuckle. Mags raises her eyebrow, and I know that I am.

"As I said, we'll talk later." I nod, not willing to argue. Arguing with Mags would end in tears, but not hers. As the dinner continues, my mind once again drifts towards the situation with Rufus. The anger from earlier is still here inside me, and it needs an outlet. 

It makes my skin crawl, how young victors are sexualised and the Capitol encourages it. Stylists seem to make it their life goal to make victors, no, children look as appealing as possible to the Capitol. It's enough to make my stomach churn.

I look over at Finnick, and my anger falters for a moment. He's only fourteen, how can anybody look at him and think he should wear revealing clothes? I've lost my appetite, and I look down at my plate. All that remains is some potato and a few more bites of meat.

Briefly, I check my surroundings to see if anybody is watching me. Nothing, almost everyone seemed focused on something else. Except for Mags, I swear that woman has some kind of psychic ability to know when something's bothering someone.

"How are you finding your tour, Mr Odair?" The mayor has started talking again, fantastic.

"It's fun having both my mentor Mags, and Zircon here with me," Finnick replies, still grinning. I wonder if his face hurts from grinning so much tonight?

"It's most unusual," Rufus commented. I narrow my eyes at the tone of his voice, fake just like the make-up concealing the flaws of his face.

"Maybe so," Mags spoke up after a brief silence. "But it's important for Finnick to be comfortable on this tour. It's a lot to go through for someone his age."

"Zircon's cool, he let me keep this platinum watch." Finnick's wrist flashes, and I see my watch that was a gift from my mentor Sterling. I had not, in fact, let him keep it.

"Just for tonight," I say with a chuckle. The betrayal on Finnick's face almost makes me laugh. That's what you get for stealing, Little Fish. I'm sure he'll get over it though, he doesn't seem the type to hold grudges.

The rest of the dinner goes smoothly, and I try not to let my previous thoughts earlier in the evening dampen my mood. The key word is try.

We're soon allowed to head back to our rooms, but something catches my eye. Rufus, he's talking to Finnick about something. I study Finnick's body language, trying to figure out if I should intervene.

It's then I notice that the kid has the makings of a fantastic actor, I can barely see any discomfort. Except for his eyes, they're looking at everything but Rufus. They lock onto mine, and my feet instinctively carry me over to them.

"Ah, do you mind?" Rufus asks as I get there. "This is a private conversation about styling. It does not concern you, Mr Summersong." Whatever common decency I had in me evaporates, it's time to put him in his place.

"It does concern me," my voice is firm. "Mags and I are Finnick's guardians on this tour." Finnick listens to my unspoken hint, and quickly walks back to our room.

"Shall we discuss this further, then?" Rufus' smug look reminds me that I'm dealing with an out-of-touch Capitol drone.

"We should." We walk to a more secluded area, away from prying eyes. This will make what I want to do so much easier without witnesses.

"What is your problem?" Rufus crossed his arms, those beady hazel eyes stare intently at me.

"Finnick is uncomfortable with the outfits you design." Straight to the point, exactly how matters like this should be dealt with. With no fake Capitol passive aggression, no fancy words.

"What? Those outfits are my best work." The stylist's almost as self-absorbed as I once used to be. "They make him look good, and you of all people know that's how you get the Capitol's attention."

"It's not necessary to design such tight clothing for him. Especially around that area, are pants like that necessary for a child?" My words will fall on deaf ears, that much I know all too well.

"Many victors wear outfits that flatter their body, Finnick is a victor. Should he not show off what he's got?" Before I can think clearly, I'm blocking him against the wall.

"I may not be able to fire you directly," I lower my voice as I talk. "But make no mistake, you're never going to style him again." While it's not explicit, my tone carried the implication of a threat. This is a promise, not a warning. 

Rufus trembles but gives me a shaky nod, and I know that I've won. It's been a decade since somebody's been truly afraid of me. Some part of me, a part I had forgotten, enjoyed it. Rufus quickly makes his exit, and I don't stop him.

Now that I'm alone, I can think properly. That's when it hits me, I fucked up. Now it's me who's trembling, and my heart starts to thump in my chest. I threatened a Capitol citizen. I threatened a Capitol citizen. I can't go back to my room in this state, doing that will cause Finnick to worry.

Stumbling, I manage to find my way to the bathroom and into a cubicle. Locking the door, I fumble for my communication device. Despite being barely able to focus, the number I need to call starts ringing. 

One ring, two rings… Please pick up.

"Hello?" That voice, oh, I've missed that voice.

"I fucked up," I'm ashamed at how weak I sound.

"What happened?"

With a shaky inhale and exhale, I tell him everything. From Finnick's discomfort with the clothing, all the way to now.

"I threatened Rufus," the words leave my mouth quickly. "Not directly, but I'm sure he could guess what I meant." The trembling starts up again, and my gut starts to writhe. I'm done for if anybody finds out.

"Breathe, Zircon." His voice is gentle, and my heart starts to slow down. I breathe in and out, making sure to focus on what he is telling me.

"Okay, I'm breathing."

"Good. Don't worry, I might know how to deal with this." That reassures me, and I'm sure he knows that it does.

"How?"

"That's for me to know, my love. Please don't fret over what could happen."

"I wish you didn't have to do damage control. It's just…" My voice wavers, and all the emotions from earlier are back in my mind again.

"Zircon, talk to me. I'm here."

"The clothes he makes Finnick wear, it's disgusting." It takes all I have not to go on a rant about it.

"Sadly it's all too common. You're right though." His voice is calm, soothing almost. I can also hear faint music in the background, he always loves classical music.

"Finnick told me he was uncomfortable, and I took that to heart. It's not okay to sexualise a child like that." 

It wasn't okay when it happened to me either, I was eighteen. Not quite a child like Finnick, but still young. However, that's not something I really want to remember right now.

"You have a right to feel angry, to feel helpless. I feel that too, angry and helpless. But you stood up for Finnick, you did what you thought was right."

I feel warm after that, and I realize how deeply I miss Lysander. Even though we're talking right now, I miss being with him.

"I want to come home."

"Finnick needs you and his mentor right now. It's only eleven more Districts. I'll be waiting for you."

"With your rose tea?"

"I'll make a special batch just for us to celebrate."

"I love you, Lysander."

"I love you too. Now, please get some rest."

The call ends, and I let out the breath I was holding. Everything will be okay, I'm sure of it. Glancing at the time, I let out a small curse. It's late, and I should go check on Finnick. Unlocking the door, I make my way back to the room I'm sharing with Finnick.

When I get there, I notice Mags sitting on a chair next to the bed. Finnick's asleep, and I remember that Mags wanted to talk to me earlier.

I'm not quite in the mood to talk, I have a lot to think about. Her eyes soften as she looks at me, and my hand touches my face. There's warmth just under my eyes. I've been crying.

Mags stands up, and makes her way over.

"Come," she says. "Walk with me for a while." I spare one last glance at Finnick, then turn my attention back to Mags. Nodding, I walk with her out of the room and the door clicks behind us.

Chapter Text

As I walk with Mags, we end up in her room. With a gentle touch to my shoulder, Mags guides me to sit down on a chair. It's hard, and nowhere near as soft as Capitol furniture. However, it feels sturdy as if it could support anything that sat on it.

"I wanted to speak to you about your attitude when we arrived at District 12." Fighting the urge to roll my eyes, I meet her gaze evenly.

"I know, I was dismissive and said something bad about them in front of Finnick."

"Zircon, you're supposed to be one of the people who sets a good example for him. However, now is not the time to address that." Mags sighs and holds my hand with her own.

"Mags?" My voice is wavering, and I take the small comfort of her hand holding mine.

"You're upset, and don't say that you aren't." Her expression shifts to one of concern. "You can tell me as much or as little as you want."

Do I tell her about Rufus? I know I should, she's also Finnick's guardian. Mags has more of a right than anybody to know what happened.

"Finnick told me that the outfits Rufus makes for him are uncomfortable." My hand clenches slightly at the memory, but then I wipe the dampness from under my eyes with it.

"It bothers you," Mags said. "But something else happened tonight, didn't it?" I hesitate to reply before eventually nodding, she has to know.

"I confronted Rufus, and it was messy." Even though I hadn't hit the bastard, it was still a mess. Mag's eyes softened, and I know she isn't judging my actions.

"Did you threaten to hurt him?"

"Not directly, but, the tone was there. I told him he'd never style Finnick again." Against my better judgment, I keep talking. "Mags, I'm taking this situation so personally. I've never felt anything so strongly before."

"Because it's happening to someone you care about," Mags says. "And, that's rare for you, isn't it?"

It is rare, my whole life I've never cared about anybody except Lysander after I met him. However, now I am caring about Finnick. Mags is worming her way past my walls too. No, not worming, that sounds awful. No, more like I'm warming up to her. It's all such new territory, and I'm afraid.

"You remember what I was like when I first became a victor, don't you?"

She chuckles at my question, which eases my nerves a bit. It makes the situation less heavy for me, even if it's only a little.

"You thought so highly of yourself, as most victors from District 1 and 2 do." Internally, I flinch from the awkward memories of my youth.

Mags has seen many victors before, I would have just been yet another young hotshot who thought he was the best. For a long time, I thought that I was.

"Yeah, I was an ass." There's no shame in admitting my shortcomings. Or, that's what I'm trying to tell myself anyway. A deeper part of me is begging for me to stop this, to just stop being open about myself.

"Zircon, do you think that your past still shapes your actions today?" Her question hits hard, and I know she's referring to my classist remarks and dismissive attitude towards District 12. On some level, I know that I have hang ups from my past. However, it doesn't mean I like to admit it.

I nod, unable to bring myself to say it out loud. Anything I could say to explain myself would sound like excusing my actions, I'm sure of it.

Pathetic. The thought gets into my head. Using your past to absolve yourself of your actions. My hands tremble slightly, and I feel my eyes starting to sting. Tears, I'm about to cry again. Furiously, I wipe at my eyes to try and stop it.

Mags moves, and suddenly I'm pulled into a warm hug. A hug, like one from a mother. My willnto remain strong breaks, and I desperately hug back.

"My whole life, I've been told I'm better than others." I know that I'm far from better, but old lessons are hard to unlearn. "When I was a child, my family idolized the Capitol. They wanted me to become a Victor, to bring pride to the family. So, they made sure to spoil me more than the average child."

"Ah, it starts at the roots then." Mags says, but her voice is soft and understanding.

"Thing is, I was never taught to care about others. I just didn't know how. When I was reaped…" The memory comes back to me, the joy and the excitement. All of it seems tragic now, I should have been scared or disgusted. Not happy.

I have to continue before I get lost in my head. Mags remains quiet while I try to gather my thoughts and form a proper explanation.

"When I was reaped, I was happy." Mags just nods to show me she's listening. "I finally had a chance to be better, a chance to be the best of the best." I had been chosen out of all the other potential young men of District 1.

Luck, or bad luck depending on one's point of view, is the main cause of a tribute being chosen. I know it had nothing to do with my skills personally, but fate had chosen me. Not that prick from school named Rhine, not my cousin Agate, me.

"Please, continue. Something tells me that you want the weight of your story to be lifted." Mags is too perceptive, must be the wisdom that comes with age.

"My mentor, Sterling… She was distant, only doing what she had to do." My lack of close relationships can be traced back to childhood, but Sterling carries some blame too.

"You weren't close?"

"No. She was distant, I did everything I could to get her attention. To show her I was worth her time, her attention." Desperately clinging to some hope that someone would truly take an interest in me. To show me the adoration I craved.

"You said your family spoiled you," Mags tilts her head slightly. "Surely they gave you their attention?"

Spoiling was not the same as genuine attention or care. I was a means to an end, my only value was my looks and increasing my family's status. There was no actual love, even my eating habits were criticized.

"I was never… I never had someone care about me ." That is the truth, I didn't have anybody. That's why I craved what the Capitol offered to me. Fame, wealth, adoration. Everything I needed, everything I wanted.

Mags' voice interrupts my thoughts.

"If you'll indulge me, I would like to tell you something that you should have been told long ago."

"What is it?" I'm willing to listen, but it seems so out of place to say something like that. Especially in the middle of my self-pitying life story.

"Even the smallest fish means everything to the ocean. It does not matter if your scales shine, or if they're dull. Every fish has worth, you do not need to be the biggest fish to be important." Mags smiles, and I know this is her own way of trying to connect to me and my inner self.

"Maybe so," I say. "But dull scales are not as noticeable. Nobody takes the time to look at those fish." Another thing from my life that haunted every step I took, my appearance. I didn't just rely on my wits and abilities in that arena, no. No sponsors would be content with just that.

"Your scales do shine, Zircon. Quite brightly, in fact. However, do you know what happens to the fish that draws attention?"

I shake my head.

"No, not really. I've never thought much about fish or other things."

"They're the first to be hunted." That sounds familiar, too close for comfort. I am beautiful, I have been told as such by many people. It was my looks that secured me the 'admiration' of the Capitol. I have an image that I have done my best to maintain.

"I was desired, my looks gained me my status." Was desired? I still am, if Lysander hadn't intervened… I'd be back in the beds of Capitolites who'd shower me with gifts or money. Attention I once craved so deeply, now I'm sickened by it all.

"The Capitol's adoration is insincere, you know that. As a victor, you have to live by their rules. But you don't have to have their mindset." Mags holds me just a little bit tighter.

"But I do have it."

"If you truly do think like them," Mags looks at me again. "You would not be here, would you?" She's right.

"Mags, I…" the words almost refuse to come out of my mouth. "You know I don't look down on you or Finnick, right?" Her smile tells me that she knows.

"I know," Mags replies softly. "Now try not looking down on other Districts. You know as well as I do that there's a hierarchy, but we're all the same."

"I'll try, for myself and for you." Her hand cradles my face, and wipes the last stubborn tears away. I briefly think back to my childhood, the only person who ever dried my tears was our house maid. Even then, it was probably part of her job, to try and shut the me up… It doesn't matter now, Mags is comforting me.

That's more than enough for me.

"Now, it's late and you should go to bed." Mags lets go of me and taps my nose with her finger. "No arguments. Bed." I chuckle and nod in agreement.

Yeah, I'm tired.

"Good night, Mags."

"Good night." Her hand pats me on the head, but I have to bend down so she can reach.

I slowly make my way back to the room that I'm supposed to stay in. When I reach the door, my hand grips the doorknob. But I hesitate for a moment. Finnick will be asleep by now, it'd be rude to wake him up. Sighing softly, my hand twists the doorknob. The door gives way and I walk into the room.

There's a lamp on, lighting up the room as best it can despite how dim it is. Closing the door, I get changed into a simple shirt and sweatpants. My eyes rest on Finnick, he's on his side and letting out what sounds like soft snores. Oh well, it's not loud so I'll be able to deal with it.

Stretching, I consider my options. Getting into my side of the bed is preferable, but I might wake the poor kid. My other option is to take one of the pillows and a blanket, then lay on the floor. My decision is made when Finnick stirs from sleep.

"Hm… Who's there?" Finnick's voice is groggy, his hair sticking up from where he had rested on his pillow.

"Just me," I say. No point in trying to be silent now that he's awake. Unfocused green eyes turn towards me, and he yawns.

"Where'd you go?"

"I just had to talk with Mags about something," it isn't entirely a lie. I did talk with Mags about something . I'm just choosing not to go into detail about what we spoke about  "Did I wake you?" Finnick shakes his head and sits up slightly.

"Nah, are you gonna get some sleep too?"

"Maybe later." The silence afterwards isn't an awkward one, thankfully. Finnick stares at me for a heartbeat longer, then lays back down. Eventually he rolls back onto his side.

"Suit yourself." The casual, dismissive way he says that genuinely makes me laugh. Finnick rolls back over and looks stunned.

"Did you just laugh?"

"Yeah, I guess I did." My smile is real too, and I feel a bit better. Rufus, the open talk with Mags, all of that fades in one brief moment. Finnick's expression shifts from stunned to smug.

"You've gotta tell Mags that I made you laugh. She won't believe me otherwise."

"Okay, okay. I'll tell her." Seeing him so proud of himself was, in a way, adorable. Of course, I'll never say that out loud. Our eyes meet again, and I can't help but smile.

"You look awful," I laugh again at Finnick's observation about me. He's not wrong, I probably do look like shit after tonight. I get onto the bed and ruffle his hair, earning an indignant squeak as he tries to get away. When he manages to evade me, I go to the wardrobe and begin to change into my pyjamas.

When I'm dressed, I get into my side of the bed. Finnick scoots over to give me room, and my head meets the pillow. It's surprisingly soft, and I close my eyes.

"Good night, Finnick."

"Good night," Finnick mumbles back. "Don't let the sea mites bite." I chuckle and do my best to fall asleep.Although a question is bugging me. What are sea mites?

Tomorrow will be a new day, hopefully an uneventful one. Maybe I'll also find out what sea mites are.