"they say 'such a shame i turned out this way, a maniac' well yeah i get manic when i cause a panic."
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Valentina
I ENVY KATNISS EVERDEEN for receiving the happy ending I could not achieve, the one I deserved with Alexander, and the one she got with Peeta. Anyone who looks at them can tell they truly love each other, but Finnick has been making comments the entire day, he simply does not believe it's real love. How can I look at any love and call it fake after deceiving the nation and myself?
I met her briefly, just after the chariots rode on the introduction night where President Snow announced the games.
I was helping our tributes out of the chariot and wiping sweat off the back of my head when she approached me.
"Valentina Irvine." She spoke like it was a question, but we both knew it was a statement, and she took one look at my tributes before looking at me. I truly never would've guessed she'd have won, or that she'd have any chance of winning.
"I watched your games last year-"
"So did I." I let out a laugh, and saw Finnick coming towards us in the corner of my eye. "Patrol is arriving." I mutter to myself, and she looked taken aback.
"I was hoping to talk to you about your strategy, how you-"
"Haymitch!" I call out, seeing him approach from behind, and Katniss immediately steps aside for Haymitch and I to embrace, laughing and hugging like we'd been friends for decades.
"Oh man! Katniss, was it? You've gotta meet this guy." Haymitch and I part, and he bursts into laughter.
"Nothing but space between your ears, Val." He pats me on the back, and Katniss gives me a distasteful look before Finnick separated me from the pair.
If I truly thought I'd see her again, perhaps I'd have given her more advice, or actually talked to her, but it didn't matter now. She's everywhere and I cannot escape Katniss Everdeen.
I'm tired of seeing her face, her and her lovers' faces all over my television, all over the screens, always at the parties. I sit by the bar and drink until I forget who they both are.
When I look at my television, I am overcome with grief. They are everywhere. They're on my screen when I have my breakfast and when I drink my nightcap, I cannot escape them when I am out for lunch, and they are all my neighbours talk about. It's not that I'm not happy for Katniss and Peeta, it's that I'm jealous of them. They get to have the happy ending I fought so hard for, the one I lost my lover for. Why wasn't I given such a result?
The 74th Hunger Games, however, were rebellious. The first signs of an outbreak of rebellion in decades. Who was I to want a rebellion, though? To overthrow the Capitol?
