1 - Uncharted Waters [Hunger Games]

28 - Crown of Shadows

Chapter 28

"Falling" by Harry Styles

𓆝 𓆟 𓆞

The anthem boomed through the arena, filling Mira's ears as Caesar Flickerman greeted the audience with his signature charm. The crowd erupted into applause as the prep team was introduced, followed by Thalassa, Nixie, Mags, Eldoris, Adrian, and finally, Finnick. Mira noticed how the cheers grew louder when Finnick's name was called, with hoots and whistles echoing above the din. She couldn't help the faint smile tugging at her lips, despite the nerves twisting her stomach.

Before she could fully process the moment, the platform beneath her feet began to rise, lifting her onto the stage.

Blinding lights assaulted her vision, mirroring the moment she was first brought into the arena. The deafening roar of the crowd rattled her nerves, and for a fleeting second, she felt like she was back in the games. She blinked rapidly, steadying herself as Caesar approached, his charm in full swing.

"Ah, our radiant victor, Mira Fairkin!" he exclaimed, taking her hand and planting a theatrical kiss on it. The crowd went wild, their cheers resonating through the stage as he led her to the ornate victor's chair. Mira sat, her movements stiff, her mind racing.

Caesar's lighthearted jokes and compliments washed over her, barely registering. Then, the lights dimmed, and the screen flickered to life. The highlight reel of the Games began.

Mira's heart sank as the film replayed every moment she desperately wanted to forget. The reaping, the interviews, the blood-soaked arena—each scene played out like a cruel reminder. She gripped the arms of the chair so tightly her knuckles turned white. The screams of fallen tributes echoed in her ears, a relentless chorus of torment that refused to let her go.

The camera occasionally panned to her face, broadcasting her reactions to all of Panem. She knew she couldn't show weakness, yet her trembling hands and the sheen of tears in her eyes betrayed her. She felt exposed, her trauma laid bare for the world to see.

When the anthem played again, jolting her back to the present, Mira stood abruptly, her legs unsteady. She barely registered President Snow's approach until he was standing before her, his cold, snake-like gaze boring into her. A girl carrying a cushion with the victor's crown followed him.

Snow placed the crown on her head with a deliberate slowness, his touch chilling. The crowd erupted into cheers, but Mira barely heard them. She offered a mechanical wave, her mind elsewhere as Caesar bid the audience goodnight, reminding them to tune in for the final interviews.

As Mira was escorted off the stage, she instinctively searched for Finnick in the crowd. She spotted him, his green eyes locked on her, offering a small, reassuring smile. It was enough to steady her nerves—if only for a moment.

At the Victory Banquet, Mira felt out of place, suffocated by the opulence and attention. People clamored for photos, their hands constantly brushing her arms and shoulders. She wanted nothing more than to find Finnick and anchor herself to the one familiar face in the crowd.

Eventually, she spotted him near the banquet table, speaking with a female sponsor. Relief washed over her, but it quickly evaporated when she saw the woman lean in and kiss Finnick on the cheek. He responded with his trademark grin, and Mira froze, the air knocked out of her chest. She couldn't explain the sting of jealousy that flared in her, but it burned nonetheless.

Before she could decide whether to approach him, a group of men surrounded her, each vying for her attention. Their flirtations made her skin crawl, but she forced a polite smile, navigating their advances as best she could.