𝐌𝐀𝐃 𝐖𝐎𝐌𝐀𝐍, finnick odair

― 𝐭𝐰𝐨

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chapter two: i'm not threatened by your so-called skills

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𝐀𝐓 𝐋𝐀𝐒𝐓, 𝐑𝐄𝐀𝐏𝐈𝐍𝐆 𝐃𝐀𝐘 𝐅𝐎𝐑 𝐓𝐇𝐄 𝟔𝟖𝐓𝐇 𝐇𝐔𝐍𝐆𝐄𝐑 𝐆𝐀𝐌𝐄𝐒 𝐈𝐒 𝐇𝐄𝐑𝐄. Visha had been waiting for this day for the past two years. Ever since her brother had been murdered in the 66th Hunger Games, by his own ally nonetheless, the fire for revenge was been bright in her otherwise cold heart. 

For the past two years, she listened to the ever-creative taunts and insults her peers at the Academy had hurled at her. She took all of their jabs at her brother, biting her tongue and just waiting for the opportunity to show them. For the past two years, Visha had been training non-stop and pushing herself for this year's games. 

Visha was sixteen this year, the same age Mayan had been when he had volunteered for the games that had ended his life. When she volunteered for the games this year, she was going to give everyone in Panem a show. They were nearly all on her hit list, being responsible for the death of her brother. 

Dressed in her prettiest maroon dress with lace flowers on the sleeves and on the topmost layer of her skirt, Visha never felt more prepared. She has her mission— avenging her brother, she has her game plan and she has her training. There was nothing else she needs. 

She lifts her chin and joins the horde of teenagers, entering the roped-off sections in District Two's town square. As she stands with the other elder teenagers after getting her blood drawn, Visha cannot stop her heart from stuttering in her chest. 

It's like every part of her body was on high alert: she can feel the blood pumping to her head, ears, everywhere, she can feel the beat of her heart against her ribcage, she can feel her stomach tossing and turning with nerves. 

Visha clenches her hands into fists at her side, and fights hard to maintain her calm demeanor. 

"Oi, Devi!" A boy a year or two older than her calls from behind. Visha whirls around to see Blake Damon's lips twist into a vicious smirk. "I can't wait until District Two gets it's third victory in a row. Oh wait— we won't because your brother couldn't kill a little girl from One." 

Rolling her dark brown eyes, Visha turns back to face the stage. Blake Damon's words had stopped affecting her ages ago. And by ages, she means a few months after her brother's death. 

A girl in Visha's row scoffs, saying, "It's all your brother's fault that our reputation crumbled. He couldn't kill an upstart from district one!"