miss americana and the heartbreak prince | katniss everdeen

the reaping.

THE PROLOGUE
One | The Reaping
•••

THERE WAS NOTHING COMFORTABLE ABOUT LIFE IN DISTRICT ONE. Or at least that's how Fleur Belcourt viewed life in the district. Or perhaps that was just how she viewed life in general now. There was nothing comforting about it. It was a weird thing when you no longer felt safe in your own skin.

Fleur had been the victor of the 69th Hunger Games. She'd been fourteen at the time, but she'd been lethal. She ended the games with the blood of fourteen tributes on her hands. She didn't think much of it at the moment. Instead, she found a way to be comfortable with it because she figured this was how she got out. This was when her life became her own and there was no more worrying about the games or dying. This was how she won.

What Fleur didn't realize was that when the last canon had sounded in the arena, she hadn't won her freedom. She'd simply established herself as a prisoner once more, only now she belonged to something bigger than her District. Something bigger than her.

That was when she realized it was all for nothing. Her training. The lives she took. All of it. Fleur hadn't spilled a tear since she was a baby and didn't know any better, but after the games, it seemed like her tears were never-ending. She cried for the kids that she killed and for their families. She repeated their names over and over, like a mantra. She knew the world would forget as they had for every other fallen tribute, but Fleur refused to let them die. She refused to forget.

So, Fleur Belcourt had no desire to continue on the path of life that she was currently on. Sure, she was wealthy, a frequent guest at Capitol parties, and a Panem icon, but she was also a prisoner. A caged animal that longed for the end.

But Fleur was stubborn and if she was going to go out, it was not going to be like a whisper in the night. She was going to go down taking as many people as she could with her, all she needed was for her captors to leave the cage door open just a little.

Though only in her second year as a full mentor, Fleur found that the games were when she felt the safest. That was when she knew she was truly untouchable because eyes were still on her. Her win was still fresh in the minds of the people, and they still loved her no matter how ruthless she'd been.

Fleur stood thoughtfully by her kitchen sink as she looked out of the window of her home in Victor's Village and watched as two children fought in the street with dulled swords. One boy gets the upper hand and holds the sword to the other boy's throat with a smile on his lips.

Their father had been a victor. It was the reason they lived in the Village. They held him in such high regard that they didn't care what he had done. They simply knew that they were better than everyone else and that fact alone was enough to make them idolize the games.

"Again!" the other boy demands as he slaps away the sword being held at his throat.

Fleur's viewing of the fight was interrupted by a knock on the door which startled her and caused her to drop a glass. She muttered a curse word as she bent down to pick up the broken glass, cutting herself in the process.

She winced slightly and grabbed a nearby towel, pressing it to the wound. The knocking on her door became louder and more aggressive.

"I'm coming," Fleur insisted as she made her way over to the door, yanking it open to meet its assailant. There stood her former mentor and fellow victor, Cashmere. She was tall, her face beautiful. Not a strand of blonde hair out of place. She was the kind of beautiful Fleur had aspired to be until she realized what that beauty would mean.

"You were supposed to come by the academy this morning," Cashmere states as she pushes past Fleur and into her home. Fleur sighed as she closed the door behind Cashmere.