Impavid

“You’re not a princess anymore,” Bellona instructed, clapping her hands together. Her eyes were focused on me. Finnick was standing next to me, his hands behind his back as he kept his eyes trained forward. “You are no longer a sweetheart of the capitol, understood? You are a queen and you are angry. You will smile and wave at them, but you give them a hard look in your eyes, understand?”

“I think so.” It was easy for me to feel mad, but it was hard to feel like I wasn’t a princess, the way I was dressed. We were exiting the train and it had to be grand. I was dressed in a very pale green dress that gave me volume in my chest and clung to my every curve. It was certainly less modest than what I was used to. “Smile, but do it with my mouth only. Glare with my eyes.”

“Exactly.” Bellona turned to Finnick. He was dressed in light shirt that ended at the elbow, revealing his tanned skin. The shirt was the same pale green at the top until it blended and splash into a dark, ocean green at the bottom. Bellona called it tie-dye, but I had no idea what that meant. It made his eyes glow. “Finnick, you give them that charming smile of yours, though I do think after your questionable behavior at the reaping, most think that smile is for someone else.”

Bellona glanced at me when she said it. Finnick glanced at me too, but I kept my eyes trained on the metal door that was air locked tight. The train was beginning to slow, the vibrations coming to almost a non-existent flutter. “Do I look angry too, Bellona? Or just… charming.”

“I hardly think you can mask the anger you feel.”

“Good, I didn’t plan on it.”

“You both need to be careful, understood? District Twelve already is playing a star-crossed lover story; you cannot follow suit. You need to figure out a different edge, we can’t have you both looking like you want to asphyxiate over the other.”

“I want to asphyxiate over your dress today,” I admitted.

Bellona snapped her mouth shut and despite Finnick’s sour mood, he guffawed in laugh, unclasping his hands behind his back and slapping his leg as he bent over with it. I cracked a smile, feeling only a little guilty. Bellona was dressed in a bright yellow dress looked like it was attempting to capture the essence of a yellow tang, which happened to be Cain’s favorite fish.

Cain. The thought sent me reeling back into business mode, my laughter dying out like deflated lungs. Finnick saw the change in my mood and coughed, ending his laughter and straightening up. He was standing extremely close to me; too close to say we were indifferent, too far to say that we were lovers.

Gradually, the train came to a stop. Bellona stood behind us. Right before the click of the train doors unlocking, Finnick brushed his hand against mine. It was the tiniest of gestures, but in that moment I was so thankful for it. he hadn’t completely given up on me, even though we had hardly spoken since the reaping. That brush told me he was still with me in this.

Thunderous applause and cheers spilled in through the doors. I grinned as we both left the train to stand on a high rise, concrete platform. A sea of colors surged around us, thousands of fish flushing around a coral reef. The sound was unbelievable but bearable. I waved to them, keeping the smile on my face, but I narrowed my eyes. Something told me from the way people bent to whisper in their friend’s ears that my smile looked bloodthirsty and not friendly.

Together, Finnick and I made our way off the platform. Peacekeepers lined the carpet that we walked on, ropes keeping back the people. Flowers of every variation were thrown to us, handkerchiefs, declarations of unrequited love and tokens of dreams and hopes littered our feet.

Once the door shut on the car with the blacked out windows, I let out a breath of air and closed my eyes. I could still hear the screams as the car began to move. “I want them all to burn.”

“They don’t know any better.”

“Neither do I.” I opened my eyes and turned my head to look at Finnick. He was watching me, his face very close to my own. I could feel his breath on my lips. “I don’t know any better than to hate that which makes me feel pain.”

“And what about me?”

I frowned. “What about you?”

“Do I make you feel pain?”

“No. You make me feel… I don’t know.”

One moment I was trying to tell Finnick how he made me feel. I was picking through my thoughts, trying to find the right word to describe it without feeling stupid. The next moment, I was being pushed against the window of the car, his hands grabbing the sides of my neck as his lips attacked my own. It was an instantaneous reaction to tangle my hands in the collar of his shirt, pulling him closer to me and kissing him back full force.

Unlike our first kiss, this one was entirely messy, all heat and no hesitation. It was vicious, to the point where my lips were swelling. Finnick bit down on my lower lip, pulling it between his teeth, my head leaning into him as he pulled away for a moment. But I barely gave him a moment to breath, kissing him fervently.

The privacy window between us and the driver was our saving grace. Because when the car stopped, Finnick pulled back away from me abruptly. He fixed his shirt which was now wrinkled. My hair was now on the fritz and I was brushing the curls, trying to rearrange them desperately.

Despite my panic, Finnick let out a light laugh, and leaned back over, putting strands of my hair in place and kissing me briefly. “I hope that helped you figure out how I make you feel.”

“It did.”

“And?”

“And you make me feel like a hot mess.”

Opening his mouth, it seemed like Finnick was going to respond, but the car door opened, making him lean back. Someone escorted me from the vehicle, holding my hand. Another crowd greeted us as we made our way to the Games Center. It was where everything essential to the games took place. If there was a place that housed all of the miserable people in the world, that building would have been it.

Inside was cool and quieted. Everything was modern, devices that I only had a concept of and staff dressed in garb that I could not even fathom. I could have had all of the bells and whistles of the building with my wealth, but it was overwhelming. District Four certainly was a rich district, but for all our wealth, we enjoyed hand made things.

Hardly a thing had changed on the fourth floor of the building. It almost caused a tidal wave of memories to flood my brain, but I refused to let myself get caught up in the misery of it all. Instead, I quickly got acquainted with the kitchen, managing to eat an apple and a single helping of jello before Bellona beckoned us to the salons.

Though neither one of us mentioned it, Finnick and I both don’t want to go our separate ways to get dressed. Something about knowing that we would spend the entire day apart to get ready to becoming competitors filled me with dread. It was also hard to keep my mouth shut, wanting to ask a million questions about what exactly it was that we were supposed to do to rebel against the capitol.

That’s how our relationship often worked, though. Finnick held the knowledge, I just did what he told me. That’s how it had been our my own games, and that’s how it had been ever since. I wasn’t good at thinking out things. Planning wasn’t something that I knew how to do. It was better to describe my duties than to make them up myself.

The first hour of prep included ripping out every ounce of hair I have save for particular spots on my face and my head. Fighting the urge to smack my stylist, I opted for clenching my teeth every time they put hot wax on my leg, pressing down gauze strips until something told them it was ready, causing them to pull in a quick, sharp gesture. Somewhere at the end of the row someone let out a yelp, probably feeling the same pain.

Brushed, scrubbed, waxed and so clean that my skin was burning, a girl with orange hair escorted me to a private room. Everything inside was metal, including the bed in which a clean, white, paper sheet is pulled over. I could only assume it was for sanitary reasons as I hopped up on it, my feet swinging back and forth, waiting for Violet or Vienna to walk in.

To my surprise, both of them popped into the room, all smiles at me. Bellona also came in behind them, my apathy turning into wariness. Bellona shut the door behind her, clasping her hands. I grit my teeth, waiting. “We want to talk to you about your outfit for the parade.”

“What about it?”

“We decided that because we aren’t presenting you as a delicate flower anymore, we would go full throttle and put you up to par with Finnick.”

My stomach dropped. “Please tell me I’m not going to be naked, Bellona. I swear to go I will kill you.” She hesitated, causing me to realize what I had said. A threat from a practiced killer wasn’t exactly the best thing to receive in the world. “Just please have me in clothes.”

“You’re in clothes. They’re just revealing. And I wanted to make sure I have your full cooperation before leaving you with Violet.”

I sucked my teeth. “Yeah. Whatever.”

Bellona nodded once before letting herself and Vienna out of the door. Violent turned to look at her, giving her a sympathetic smile. “I swear I won’t let anything fall out of it’s place.”

“What? What is there to fall?”

She laughed. “Oh darling, you’re so funny!”

But I was being absolutely serious. As Violet began to work on me, I felt a sense of dread come down on me. And then I began to wonder if this is what Finnick felt like every time they dressed him off and pawned off his looks, charms and his body to the highest bidder.

I had never felt so dirty in my life.