Genesis

We’ve all been subject to a Capitol rumor. The people in this plastic sector of Panem seem more content with gossip than actually acknowledging what the Games really are. So they pretend that they know the truth about Beetee’s sister or Gloss’ bed partners and revel in scandalously telling their friends about what they know.

That seems to be a popular topic of interest for them, though: the Victors romantic partners. I don’t know why. I can’t see why who I sleep with is anything too interesting. When I ask Neve, he says it’s because they want to be in our beds. I only scowled at this.

As I watch Finnick Odair loiter around next to Katniss, though, I can’t help but developing an interest for their relationship. But it’s not because I wonder if she’s sneaking off to be with him. No, I want to know if that sly bastard is planning to recruit the sobbing lovers of Twelve.

I’m at the slingshot station, where I’m attempting to make the weapon. I am failing miserably and know it’s because my attention isn’t fully focused on the project. The instructor over this training booth knows it as well; I suspect that’s why he’s stopped paying attention to me and has moved on to help Blight, Johanna Mason’s district partner.

“Everyone wants them, don’t they?”

I am surprised when the male tribute from Seven begins to speak to me. Johana and I have had our differences and we’ve given each other plenty of black eyes, but Blight and I had never interacted before. He was quiet whereas I was withdrawn. Those two personalities didn’t make for a good conversation.

“Yes, they do,” I quip.

Turning back to my slingshot, I try to ignore the high laughter erupting from Finnick. I furrow my brows and yank the knots of my leather strap tighter.

“You understand why, of course. They’re invaluable.”

“I disagree. I think they’re a liability, a target.”

“Why?” Blight asks.

He has nudged a little closer but I still concentrate on properly making my weapon.

I try not to show the surprise I am feeling at how articulate Johanna’s partner is. Maybe it’s because I’d listed him to be much like her in that regard or a reason of something different entirely, but I hadn’t expected Blight to sound so … smart. But I forget that he had won his own Games. You don’t win a competition like that on just luck, and I needed to remember that more.

“Snow isn’t just doing this for entertainment,” I murmur. “She’s made us all a target, but not bigger than the one she made herself.”

“I hadn’t thought of that,” Blight whispers.

Pausing the braiding I’d begun, I glance over at him before flicking my gaze over to Finnick and Katniss again. The fisherman from Four has seemingly sauntered off to join Mags at the trident station while the Girl on Fire remains at the knots. Katniss wears an expression that comes with flushed cheeks and wide eyes. I also notice that her hands tremble a little as she struggles to finish the noose she was making.

“Maybe Finnick hasn’t either.”

A snort is Blight’s response and I offer him up a stifling smile as I turn back to my slingshot. The instructor has given up and is hunting around for more rope towards the back. This leaves Blight and I to work alone.

“Johanna wants you.”

I don’t snap my head around to stare at Seven, nor do I make any other indication that I have just been offered an alliance with someone who I’ve labeled as a snarky idiot. Instead, I rotate my neck, allowing my gaze to hunt around for Neve. But I can’t spot him and so am unable to signal my partner to start over to us. I will have to reject this offer by myself.

“No,” I simply say.

Blight sighs and scoots closer. I notice that he is almost done with crafting his weapon.

“Hear me out, Kara,” he says. “We know you won’t leave Beetee or Wiress. We’ll help you get them to the end. I promise.”

“And what’s in it for you?” I hiss.

I don’t trust him and I certainly won’t be able to sleep knowing that Johanna Mason is the one keeping guard while we’re in the arena. I can almost feel a hidden agenda here.

“The crowd loved you and Neve, and you know just as well as I do that sponsors are one of the keys to winning this damn thing. And in case you haven’t noticed: Johanna is about as appealing as a Snow’s hair.”

The last part makes me snort and I try to dash his words. However, he’s too in tune with my own thoughts. Sponsors were nearly everything in the Games and I knew that this one would make the Capitol people even more imperative. It’s as if Snow is making us beg their forgiveness while allowing his people to choose who is sincere and who isn’t with their ability to give gifts to us while we’re in the arena.

Because of the parade, though, I don’t think Neve and I will have to do too much begging. Samos had made sure of that beforehand. Now it seemed that my district partner and I had a wide arrange of cards to play. We could go in either direction and be covered by the blind grace of the Capitol citizens. So it makes sense for Blight to seek the two of us out. However, what I don’t understand is why Johanna would let him. She was just as proud as I was, and had Neve and I been cast out like invisible beings during the parade, then I would’ve rather drank my own blood than ask to align with Seven.

“Johanna knows you’re doing this?” I eventually ask.

“She… Yes, she knows,” Blight murmurs.

I peak at him out of the corner of my eye, carefully observing his facial expression. He appears as if we’re talking in passing about how to braid rope rather than trying to pick partners who could help us survive death and, instead, give that black gift to someone else.

I turn back to my own slingshot. It’s finished and I test it out with a walnut that I found in a bowl at the booth. The nut smacks the back wall before crumbling into a dust of pieces. When the instructor turns to acknowledge me again, I ignore him once more.

Gently, I nudge Blight’s shoulder while departing the station.

“I’ll get back to you,” I tell him.

I pass him by while starting for the fire making station. I still can’t find Neve, but suspect he’s hidden away with Beetee. Lately they have been rummaging off by themselves a lot more. When I ask Neve once we return to our floor about what they were doing, he brushes it off as nothing. I trust him wholeheartedly, as well as Beetee, but I’m beginning to grow paranoid. Why won’t they let me crowd around with them wherever they’re hiding? Why am I being excluded from my own alliance?

I don’t think it’s a good sign. Usually people who were planning to bust off together in the Games spend time at stations where they carry-on hushed conversations and send others cautious looks. That’s what’s started to happen with everyone else, at least. However, I am not being privileged with having such obvious displays. I’m being left out and it’s beginning to singe my thin strip of patience.

Someone nearly knocks me over as they come to wait in line for the fire station as well. The blunt force dislodges me from my deep thinking and I only just catch myself. I knock into a morphling from Six, though. I apologize to them briefly before whirling around.

“Hello, peach,” grins Finnick.

A deep breath slips out through my nose and only steadies me a bit. I reach for more patience because I’m at risk of slapping him in that pretty face of his.

I ignore him. Whirling around, I slide over to the booth furthest away from everyone else working and begin to assemble my teepee of kindling and small sticks.

“Not so social today, are we?”

Again, I ignore him and, again, he persists. He lets out a snicker while coming closer.

“You’re doing it wrong, darling,” he says. “You have to use more shavings.”

“I know how to start a fire,” I hiss.

He grins at me when I look over at him.

“I’m not saying you don’t, my little peach. But I think you need more wood shavings.”

“And I think you need to fuck off.”

For a few seconds, Finnick studies me. I try to keep glare on but only manage to just stop it from turning it into a snarl.

He walks away—or I think he does and go back to fixing my wood pile. But then I feel a strong body curling around me from behind and immediately freeze. Finnick slides his toned arms up around my waist before resting his hands on my hips. He pulls me against him rather roughly, then poises his chin on my shoulder.

“I could get rid of all this tension for your, love,” he whispers.

As he speaks, he trails a fingertip up my side. In my mind, I see myself punching him squarely in that pretty face of his. But outwardly all I’m able to do is remain stalk still.

“I know the perfect thing to fix you and it happens to involve no clothes. Doesn’t that sound fun?”

And that helps everything clicks into place. I almost realize what’s happening so fast that it makes me dizzy. In an instant, I figure out all of it.

Finnick doesn’t give a shit about bedding me. True, he had many people who slipped into his bed and he’d hinted at me joining him there a few times before, but this was something else entirely. This wasn’t because he liked to see me scowl at him or hear me curse his offers down into the ground. No, Finnick Odair wasn’t trying to seduce me because he had grown fond of me. He was doing it because Johanna Mason would be able to recruit me a lot more easily if she had the persuasion of a handsome God-like thing such as Finnick. And I’d seen him trying to get close to Katniss earlier; he hadn’t been doing that because he’d liked how Peeta had gotten red with jealousy.

I suspect Johanna and Finnick had already picked their group to help them survive and now they were going for them at all costs. Only I don’t think that either Katniss or I were going to come to them as willingly as they had thought.

“You’re a real piece of shit, aren’t you?” I chuckle.

I pull out of his hold and turn to face him. He’s smirking confidently, but his eyes are roving over me too fast for him to really be calm.

“Has the Capitol really made you think that fucking people is the only way you can get what you want? I mean, is that all you have to offer? A good fucking? Don’t you have anything else?” I pause here, beginning to chuckle a bit. “Are you even good for anything else?”

And then Finnick cracks a little. I see how that cocky grin falters and the way his jaw tightens. Now it’s my turn to smirk at him and I enjoy every bit of it. My body fills up with so much glee that I can only nearly contain myself.

I let out a tinkling little giggle while sliding closer to him.

“Whores really aren’t good at much else, are they?”

With that, I turn back around to my teepee of sticks.