𝐃𝐄𝐄𝐏 𝐏𝐈𝐍𝐊 ... 𝗽𝗲𝗲𝘁𝗮 𝗺𝗲𝗹𝗹𝗮𝗿𝗸

𝐩𝐫𝐨𝐥𝐨𝐠𝐮𝐞

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𝘱𝘳𝘰𝘭𝘰𝘨𝘶𝘦 : 𝘵𝘩𝘦 𝘱𝘳𝘦𝘴𝘪𝘥𝘦𝘯𝘵'𝘴 𝘥𝘢𝘶𝘨𝘩𝘵𝘦𝘳
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harriet 'hattie' fire stood in her bedroom with the news streaming on in the background as she stuffed her duffel bag full of clothes and necessities. rounds of applauses would spontaneously fill hattie's ears as she tried to shove her favorite combat boots tightly beside some of her socks. "i swear to god—" she mumbled to herself, before finally pushing the boots into the tight spot and successfully zipping up the bag.

"and the baker boy." hattie had finally looked up at her screen and saw peeta mellark walk out of his home. he glanced to the camera with a grateful smile, and went to hug katniss everdeen, throwing in an obvious motion to make them fall onto the ground. "oh ! trouble in paradise." caesar commentated.

katniss everdeen and peeta mellark. the first duel victors to ever come out of the hunger games. and, apparently, star-written lovers.

hattie didn't buy it.

katniss was tough and blunt, and peeta was thoughtful and a team player, from what hattie had watched the previous year. though she could be wrong, she had a knack for reading past TV personalities and going for the jugular. which also lead hattie to believe that peeta and katniss weren't in love. crazy theory. but completely believable. hattie was most likely the only person in the whole capitol, besides her father, to think that their love was false.

but, it wasn't her business. for now, at least. "so taciturn all of a sudden, peeta, give me some— !" hattie pointed the remote to the TV and it immediately shut off. she did not need to see that. she did not want to see that. she looked up at the ceiling and took a deep breath, her stomach starting to churn. she tried to tell it to shut up.

hattie was an abnormally beautiful girl. in her country, she didn't meet the beauty standards, she was the standard. her curly hair reached the bottom of her shoulder blades, and her height reached up to a storming 5'0. her skin was a warm brown, never needing any makeup other than the occasional mascara. hattie was kind and reliable, and tried her best to be optimistic every waking moment. even if it didn't always work.

"which one..." hattie tapped her chin, looking between the two machetes laying on her bed, both in sheathes. "don't fix what's not broken." she eventually picked up her dark pink-sheathed sword and packed it in the front pocket of her bag. the bedside phone started to ring, and she quickly picked it up.

"hello?" "hey, kid, it's just me." hattie had immediately recognized the voice as haymitch. like a second father, personally first father, as she saw it, to her. drunk father, but better dad than her biological father had ever been. "oh, hey, 'mitch. what's up?" "wanted to know if you saw katniss' and peeta's interview. check if it was any good." "it was alright. the push to the floor peeta pulled was kind of obvious but otherwise, it was okay." "just okay?" he asked. "as far as i watched it. i turned it off right before caesar even asked a question." she rolled her eyes, tapping her foot. "of course you did. well, just thought i'd check. oh, also wanted to remind you i'm picking you up the afternoon after the reaping to get on the train." "alright. tell the victors i say hi. or don't." a laugh from the other line rung through the phone, before it went dead.

the presidents daughter as a hunger games mentor. never heard of, and never wanted. but, hattie had her personal reasons, and she planned to keep them personal for as long as she could. she had done 13 years of fencing and 6 years of combat and knife training. she could've been a mentor years ago if she had wanted to.