BOMBSHELL - Finnick Odair

15

Ember

Breakfast was silent.

The only sound throughout the apartment was metal spoons and forks scraping against the fancy, ceramic bowls.

It reminded me of the last time I seen Wes.

Just thinking of him made my heart sting, the fear of the unknown future between the two of us sitting heavy on it.

"Eat, Em," Felix said, voice rough and hard.

I looked up from my picked at plate and narrowed my eyes at him, "I'm trying."

The man furrowed his brows together in annoyance. "Well, try harder!" He shouted, his voice vibrating off the walls.

Aero paused mid-sip of his mimosa, eyes widening over the rim of the glass, then tipping the rest of the drink back.

My mentor's outburst didn't phase me though. We were all on edge because of Plutarch's plan. Too many what ifs and chances being counted on.

I twirled the fork in between my fingers as I stared at my breakfast. This could be the last real meal I had for awhile. And I couldn't even stomach it.

My mind kept racing over what was expected of me. Find Finnick. Alliance with Katniss and Peeta. Take shelter.

No one would expect Finnick and I to separate. Plutarch assigned us to lay low with the pair until we can carry out the next part of the plan with the others.

Johanna wasn't pleased with her "B Team" status. Or so she called it.

I picked up the fancy, glass cup and downed the rest of my water, knowing my access to it could be limited.

"So, Ember..." Aero interrupted. "Have you decided on a plan?"

I shrugged as I sat the empty glass back down. "Mainly just to stay alive."

My stylist rolled his eyes at my answer. With a shake of his head he muttered under his breath, "Don't know what I expected."

Annoying him brought me some kind of joy, a sly smile creeping up onto my face. Not that it really took much to accomplish.

Markus, oblivious, continued munching on the bacon he hoarded on his plate.

I rolled my eyes at my district partner. There was a reason his part of the plan was to stay out of the action.

We finished breakfast up shortly after and then it was time to be escorted to my own private aircraft.

Felix accompanied me on the walk over, his arms wrapped around my shoulders tightly.

"I know you're not much of a kid anymore," he started, "but you were the closest I ever got to having one."

I paused mid-stride, bringing us both to a halt. There were no amount of words that could express my gratitude in the way that he deserved. So, I instead pulled him in, wrapping my arms tightly around his neck.

He responded in hugging me back, the sleeve of my t-shirt dampening as his grip turned tighter.

"Hey," I said, pulling away, but keeping my grip on his shoulders. "I'll be back soon."

Felix scoffed, despite the tear rolling down his cheek. "There's that optimism I love so much," he said sarcastically, ruffling my hair.

I laughed, knowing the both of us we were far from it.

The shuffling of peacekeepers tore us out of the moment we shared and they began to escort me to the aircraft.

"Think of this as a see you soon," I smiled, squeezing his hand as they pulled me away.

I stared over my shoulder at the man who stood grimly, hands shoveled deep into his pockets. I managed a small wave, to which he returned, as the door sealed shut.

Now that I was alone, that anxious sickly feeling returned. The previous smile I held for the sake of Felix dropped, replaced with a blank stare.

"Your arm."

I rolled my eyes, holding my forearm out to the nurse, "I know the drill."

The tracker flashed white, stinging my veins as it shot underneath my skin. I couldn't help myself but to flinch at the uncomfortable feeling. It was something that I never expected to feel again. A smirk rose to my face, knowing I would eventually get to rip it out.

The hovercraft flew smoothly, the lights onboard flashing every few minutes. My eyelids fluttered close as I tried to take deep breaths to calm my racing mind. A habit I picked up on before every performance.

And I was about to give my best one.

The peacekeepers surrounded either side of me on the walk throughout the catacombs beneath of the arena.

My stylist was waiting for my arrival, an article of clothing lying in her arms. "Ember," she said sadly, holding it out in front of her. "I'm afraid the arena is going to be tropical."

I narrowed my eyes at the sleek one piece. "It's thin, be prepared for something hot."

She held it out for me to take and I snatched it as I said, "Yeah, me."

The woman threw her hand up to her mouth, stifling a laugh. "This is not a joking matter," she scolded, her giggles proving otherwise.

I shrugged, pulling the outfit on and muttering, "Have to cope somehow."

The material stuck to my skin and it took the help of my stylist to get all the wrinkles out, allowing the suit to lay properly.

I held my arms out and wiggled them to make sure I could really move in it. "Feels okay," I told her.

The woman pulled me into a short-hug and held me at arms length, her manicured fingernails pressed into the skin of my shoulders.

"I believe we've been here before, haven't we?"

I stared at the woman blankly, none of it feeling real.

"ONE MINUTE"

I felt like that terrified, sixteen year old girl again.  And just like then, my mind fluttered around with every possible outcome.

But it shouted one thing very clearly.

Wes.

I sucked in a deep breath, letting it out slowly. My stylist and I weren't very close, but I enjoyed the quieter company.

"Goodbye, Evelyn," I whispered.

She let her hands drop from my shoulders, mouth pressed into a thin line.

"Goodbye, Ember."