The Mentor. (Cato Hadley)

Chapter Eight.

Mags Flanagan was sixteen when she won the Eleventh Annual Hunger Games, and also the first one of us Victors who had to suffer through a Victory Tour. Not only that, she was also the first one who got the reward of a home in Victor's Village.

Finnick has always spoken highly of Mags, and I wish I had known her before she had a stroke. She is an incredibly sweet, selfless woman, who volunteered for the Third Quarter Quell to save Finnick's girlfriend Annie. Mags is also a huge reason that Career tributes were developed, although not in the way one may think.

Mags' original idea - as voiced to me by Finnick - was that the tributes who volunteered were doing so for the younger tributes. Much like what Katniss did, for Prim. Like everything else, Snow took that theory and twisted it so that it benefited the Capitol. That led to the brainwashing, the antics that which we know of today where Districts One and Two (sometimes Four, but not as heavily) strive to compete in the Game.

As I sit here beside this woman watching the Games of every Victor here at the Quell, I can't help but think of what her life must have been like. She lived through the First Rebellion, she saw it all. She was five years old when The Hunger Games began.

"I think Brutus knows I'm not on his side," I sigh heavily, knowing that means I have a target on my back. "He knows of my loyalty to you, and he knows that outweighs anything I have with him. He's going to try and kill me first."

Finnick puts an arm around my shoulder as Mags taps my knee gently. "Well, then I guess we need to make sure he doesn't get to you. Do you really think he could kill you?"

"Yes Finnick, I really do. In his Games, he killed his own girlfriend because they came down to final two. He is more than capable of killing me."

The presence of Finnick and Mags comforts me, but I know that the comfort is going to end as I make my way to my own floor. Brutus sits in the living area, the bottles that the avoxes have been giving me on the coffee table in front of him. He knows.

"You quit drinking," he says blankly, not even looking at me. "Looks like you're going to be quite the competition this year."

"Gotta be if I wanna make it out alive," I match his tone, stepping into the suite and closing the door behind me.

He scoffs, rolling his eyes. "You think you have the chance to beat me, to beat all of us?" He's speaking of him, Cashmere, and Gloss. Little does he know, I'm almost positive Cashmere and Gloss are in on the Rebellion as well - just not to the extent of Finnick and I.

"I won my Game at fourteen, Brutus," I yell, refusing to back down to him. "Fourteen years old! I have just as much of a chance as everyone else."

He steps up, standing toe to toe with me in an effort to scare me. Nobody scares me anymore. I maintain my stance, staring up at him with rage. I could feel the old Marblyn coming back, killer Marblyn. The intensity of my urge to be the one to kill Brutus just to prove a point is overwhelming. "You're gonna be 24th."

I know exactly what that means. He's going to make me the biggest target in the arena because while he feels betrayed, he will never let me live because of it. Just as quickly as I enter Suite Two, I leave.

This time, instead of hitting the elevator button for Four, I slam the button for Twelve. A surprise visit never hurt anybody, Katniss might shit her pants though. She doesn't seem to like being in my presence all that much.

When I enter District Twelve's Suite without so much as a knock, I see Katniss on the floor trying to pick up something. An Avox is close by, picking up what I presume is the same. I recognize him though. Where do I recognize him from?

Darius. He had been friends with my older brother back in Two, but I hadn't known what happened to him after he graduated from the Peacekeeper Academy. The way Katniss looked at him with familiarity, their fingers clearly intertwined underneath the table. Darius was sent to District Twelve, where something happened that led him to becoming an Avox.

"Katniss, that isn't your job!" Effie, District Twelve's escort, scolds her and causes the two to jump away from each other. As the girl moves away from the Avox, her eyes meet mine.

"What are you doing here?" She questions roughly, quickly standing quickly. "This isn't your floor."

"I'm aware," I roll my eyes as the four people who do belong in this suite stare me down, curiosity crossing their faces. "I know what district I'm from."

"So what are you doing here?" The things I have heard about Katniss Everdeen since the very beginning are proven to be true. She most definitely is not very likeable.

Instead of answering her question, I sit in an empty chair around the mahogany dining table. Peeta doesn't say a word, neither does Haymitch and Effie. The only one who seems absolutely insulted by my actions in Katniss, staring at me in disbelief.

"So, my district partner wants to kill me which is why I figured I would just chill here for a bit." My tone comes off nonchalantly, shrugging as the people of District Twelve are at a loss for words. "You know, can't risk him getting the job done before I'm ready to fight in the game."

"Well, that's one of the normal things I've heard today," Haymitch takes a swig of his white whiskey, offering me a sip to which I politely decline. Haymitch is a mentor, he doesn't have to face the wrath of the Third Quarter Quell. I, however, have to hopefully try and make it out alive.

"Aren't you friends with Finnick?" Peeta asks, his tone slightly friendlier than Katniss'. Although, I can't say I blame her for her standoffish attitude. If I were in her shoes, and I had to deal with me on this level, I would have an attitude too. "Can't you hide out on his floor?"

"I could," I smirk at the District Twelve boy, someone I find very underlooked when it comes to the Games. People don't realize that the camouflage skill that practically saved his life last year is impeccable, not to mention his strength. Peeta isn't a force to be reckoned with. "But I'd much rather stay here and get to know the newest Victors."

"What good is that when one of us will be dead soon?" Katniss scoffs, her annoyance over this Quarter Quell something we have in common.

It only takes a short amount of time before they stop resisting my presence, just accepting the inevitable. Of course, Katniss in particular wasn't exactly happy to watch the opening ceremonies with me, but I didn't necessarily give her the option.

"Haymitch," I ask as I watch the Chariot rides from a different perspective rather than first hand. The thought crosses my mind for a moment, thinking about how I maybe shouldn't ask such an intrusive question. Instead, I decide to ask the question, in the hopes that he will answer. "You've mentored in the Hunger Games for twenty-five years, with forty-eight tributes. How do you handle it? How do you deal with the loss?"

To anybody in the room who wasn't me, the question may seem to not make any sense. Haymitch and I, however, have the understanding of mentors. Effie views the fallen tributes as expendable, just purposeful for entertainment. Katniss and Peeta probably were just happy that it wasn't them called to the Games in previous years. The only one who truly knows the pain of what I went through last year - although I do put on a convincing front that I'm only annoyed we didn't win - is Haymitch.

"After awhile, you just learn to stop expecting something good to happen." I see what he means, even if he's not using full words. He stopped getting close to the tributes, stopped holding out hope for a win. Exactly how I treated Janelle.

I nod silently, realizing exactly what the man is telling me. Accept the inevitable.

A/N: two things! I really don't wanna kill Finnick so I wanna try and find a way around that, AND after I finish Catching Fire and Mockingjay I thinkkkk I may make a short story of Marblyn's games and where exactly her view of the Capitol changed. Would anybody be interested in that? Love you guys, thank you for sticking with me for ten years 🖤