The Life Of A Victor

CHAPTER 5

Something strange is happening. I feel it, sense it. And I'm not the only one. Katniss, seated between Peeta and Haymitch, keeps glancing up and turning her head from side to side, completely distracted from the conversation the visitors from 6 are having with the governors of 12.

Mayor Undersee sends me a sad smile every time our eyes meet. It's been like this since that day. The same with his wife, just like Madge. I remember those evenings dining at their house, before the Reaping, and a few times after my victory. I remember how they tried to cheer me up. And now none of us knows how to. We barely engage in the trivial conversation at this table.

The Victors are here. And they shouldn't be. I even thought I saw Cashmere, Gloss, Alexander, and another victor from District 1. Katniss's gaze meets mine, and we share the same expression of intrigue and unease. Something in the air smells strange. Something about all these reeks of a potent rose scent that awakens our deepest fears.

"Are you always this quiet?" asks the voice to my left.

I turn to see a timid and smiling Theresa, who gently places her hand on my shoulder in an exceedingly sweet gesture. Just minutes ago, she was engrossed in a conversation with her Capitol companion, Thadeus Igpetus, a middle-aged man with piercing red eyes and hair of the same striking colour, but who seems jovial and kind. She was so engrossed that I decided not to disturb her.

"You seem more outgoing on TV," she continues.

"I think that's something we have in common," I say, slightly lifting my glass.

"Yet, you're just as, if not more, pleasant," she says sincerely.

I can't help but blush slightly at the comment. I'm used to compliments, but not when there's no camera in front. For months, the only glances I've exchanged are with the people of my district, who often nervously look away from me. I don't feel as amiable as she says. Maybe I was before, but I no longer know if I have the strength for it.

"Thank you," I say, somewhat awkwardly - "I try. Although you have more to admire than I do."

"I don't believe that" she says, smiling.

"Believe it," I tell her - "I know the tour isn't easy, being paraded around like a zoo animal. And yet you still manage to smile at everyone all the time, and it always seems so genuine."

"I try to make it genuine," she says, losing her gaze in her glass for a moment.

"You should have seen Effie's face when I went to the final gala in the Capitol on my victory tour," I tell her - "I couldn't help but gape at one of the guests' outfits, it was simply terrible... the cameras caught a close-up of my face. Apparently, I held it for so long that I'm still signing photos with the screenshot of that moment. Effie almost killed me."

"I suppose that's your charm, isn't it?" she says when she finally stops laughing - "you're not afraid to express what you feel."

"How strange," I say with a smile - "from what I saw this morning, I would have attributed that virtue more to you than to me."

Theresa smiles, and soon we are engaged in a conversation about District 6. Flashes of my visit on my Victory Tour pass through my head. Its long, greyish buildings. Very different from the little houses of 12, but far from the luxurious and modern towers of the Capitol. The hovercrafts ascending and descending at all times. Trains crossing its multitude of tracks. The transportation district.

Theresa tells me her father is an engineer in a hovercraft workshop. He's been at it since he was ten years old. She started working there too a few years ago in the same place. Her mother no longer works, due to an injury that left her without part of her right leg in the parts factory. That partly caused the large number of tesserae the girl had to ask for to help feed the rest of her siblings.