❝ THE FALL ◐ the hunger games.

❝ CHAPTER FIVE .

Make an impression.

Roman's words echoed in Denari's mind like a command. This was the Capitol's first real look at the tributes, and in the twisted world of the Hunger Games, first impressions could mean everything.

As the District 3 carriage emerged from the shadows of the backstage area, Denari was struck by the stark contrast of light and noise. The crowd roared, their cheers and applause bouncing off the walls of the stadium, and the golden sunlight poured over her. The warmth would have been comforting if not for the sunburn prickling her skin beneath the layers of fabric. At least her costume had spared her from further misery.

She raised her chin and gripped the side of the carriage, her knuckles tightening as the uneven road jostled her footing. Beneath them, the gravel crunched with every step of the horses pulling the chariot forward. Denari's stoic expression didn't falter—this was her armor. Cameras broadcasted every movement of the tribute parade, projecting their faces onto massive screens for all of Panem to see.

To her side, Kade's lips curved into a hollow, toothless smile. He played the part with unsettling ease, and the Capitol, as naïve as they were vain, seemed to eat it up. Denari's brow twitched in irritation. She couldn't fathom why Kade, of all people, would engage in these theatrics. He despised the Capitol and had never made any attempt to hide it—until now.

She glanced at the screens again. Viktor, a fellow District 3 tribute, was soaking up the attention with effortless charm, tossing waves and smiles that felt dangerously authentic. Roses rained toward the carriage, while Alina, the other tribute, offered an approving nod. The crowd adored Viktor's confidence, his mastery of their affections.

Denari turned back to Kade, narrowing her eyes. Why was he doing this? Was it fear? Strategy? Her lip curled slightly, frustration bubbling under the surface. Kade had never been one to perform for anyone, much less for the Capitol elite.

And then, like the snap of a twig, it clicked.

The realization sent a chill down Denari's spine. Her eyes darted back to the screens, and the image of Kade—of his false smile—burned into her vision. The noise of the crowd shifted abruptly, faint gasps and murmurs slowly replacing cheers.

They knew.

Kade's betrayal of the Capitol wasn't just a story whispered among officials; it was public knowledge. The Capitol citizens weren't blindly adoring him—they were questioning him, scrutinizing every move. And the consequences? Those could fall not only on Kade but on all four of District 3's tributes.

Denari turned to him, urgency etched into her features. "Give me your hand," she murmured, her voice barely audible over the fading applause.

Kade glanced at her, his brow furrowing as the same realization dawned on him. He hesitated for only a moment before sliding his hand into hers.

Her fingers interlocked with his, steadying both of them as the carriage lurched forward. The gesture wasn't foreign—she'd held his hand countless times, back when he was dragged around District 3 in the early days of the two becoming housemates. But this was different.

She looked out into the crowd, scanning their garish, painted faces and brightly colored outfits that blurred into a kaleidoscope of privilege. They were fools, all of them. Fools who revered past victors like Katniss and Peeta for their defiant displays of unity, who cheered for rebellion only to later cower in its aftermath.

With a deliberate swing, Denari and Kade lift their joined hands high, for all to see. Alina and Viktor notice first, their heads turning in sync, their eyes burning holes through the connection. Denari feels it, and she's sure Kade does too.