𝐆𝐎𝐋𝐃 𝐑𝐔𝐒𝐇 | Finnick Odair

𝐱𝐯𝐢𝐢. stepping on the last train

Genevieve had gotten hardly any sleep that night, she stayed up till the early hours of the morning watching reruns of old games. She left Finnick's games for last and watched intently as he swung his trident effortlessly, reminding her of just how talented he really was. To win the games so young and with no training at the academy was a tremendous feat. One that would not be replicated easily that was for sure

It had been a while since district four had produced a winner but Genevieve was determined to change that. She was ready to fight for her place as the winner of the 70th Hunger Games.

A suffocating silence hung over the breakfast table like a cloud and even Mags couldn't lighten the atmosphere. Haven looked visibly stressed, her hair framing her face in messy strands that had escaped from her normally neat ponytail.

Daffodil looked visibly anxious as she arrived to guide the two tributes to the hovercraft, her perfectly manicured nails chipped at the edges indicating that she had been chewing on them because of the immense stress she was under. She was dressed in an all black ensemble; a hood pulled over her coiffed hair that Genevieve thought only served to increase her resemblance to the Grim Reaper himself. Her heels clicked against the concrete floor in uniform steps as they were led to the basement of the training centre and into a hangar. They had yet to say goodbye to anyone properly since there were still many preparations they needed to make before they emerged into the arena.

Finnick waited by the door to the catacombs and as they walked past he declared "May the odds be ever in your favour." Daffodil nodded distractedly but as they passed him he leaned down and whispered "I'll see you on the other side," into Genevieve's ear. His utter confidence in her victory caused a smile to creep onto her face, however she was still very aware of the consequences that losing would entail and the fate of Caspian who wouldn't join her if she did succeed.

Daffodil stopped at the end of the hall, tears already collecting in the corner of her eyes and Genevieve could see hers and Caspian's stylist waiting by the hovercraft entrance. Daffodil could barely choke out her goodbyes and Genevieve tried not to let her escort's emotions overwhelm her. She needed to stay logical and level headed for what was about to come. Although secretly she was glad that Daffodil had the sense not to mention anything about the oncoming days. She enveloped both Genevieve and an unwilling Caspian into a tight hug before she headed back towards the elevator, muffled sobs escaping her lips.

They were split up by the time they reached the hovercraft. Deep down Genevieve knew it wouldn't be the last time she sees Caspian but there was always a chance they could be split up in the arena or worse killed, so just before he turned to leave she extended a hand. "For old times sake" she said. Caspian grabbed her hand with his and shook it. "For Genevieve and Caspian. District Four's best." He agrees. She nodded soberly at his declaration and departed in the opposite direction.

Blackout windows clicked into place as she got closer to the incoming arena, and Octavia produced an outfit to change into. Simple black trousers that cinched around her waist perfectly, paired with an underlayer that resembled a wetsuit but was made of more durable material and running shoes to finish off the ensemble. Standard black socks were also provided, strangely they hadn't been given jackets which caused her to assume the temperature would be warm. As they began to land, Octavia styled Genevieve's hair into two bubble braids so that it stayed out of her face in the blood bath.

She felt an almost familial affection towards her stylist who had made up for the lack of a motherly presence in her life ever since she'd arrived at the capital. She would be sad to leave her but if all went well they would see each other again for the victory parade and tour. She departed the hovercraft without looking back and made her way down the spiral steps leading to what must be the catacombs.

Peacekeepers lined the path to the tribute holding chambers, just in case they had any last minute doubts before entering. Genevieve took a moment to compose herself before the door was opened. This is what she had been preparing herself for all her life. Now she just needed to execute it. She pushed the door open wide as the peacekeepers began to grow antsy behind her and stepped inside.

The room was barely big enough to hold both of them, the floor was cobbled and slightly uneven, taking care not to trip as she makes her way to the end of the room. There was a groove in one part of the wall that was taken up by a glass chamber, this would be her last mode of transportation to the arena. The walls were pitch black and marked with the vibrant Panem emblem to remind them of what was to come and who they were fighting for.

Genevieve tied her shoes as tight as she could while Octavia fretted over every little thing. As she finished double knotting her laces, a voice called out from the speakers above for the tributes to enter the cylinders. She watched the glass slide open, and stepped forward up onto the plate without hesitation. Octavia covered her mouth with her hands and tried not to weep as her eyes began to glaze over. "May the odds be ever in your favour." She said so quietly it was almost a whisper.

Before Genevieve could think of a reply the glass door swung to a close, blocking out the sound of her stylists sobs. She tried to stay composed; it would do her no good to get swamped with emotions now.

In the last moment before the launch, her fingers found the pearl dangling from her necklace and she gripped onto it, willing herself to stay focused.

She thought of everyone she was trying to win for : Annie, her Mother, District Four, Haven, Octavia, Mags and Finnick, before she could conjure up any more names the plate began to rise beneath her feet. It was time to enter the arena.