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 was 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.