Don't Forget Me

All For

"A very childlike rage and a very childlike loneliness,"

The 68th Hunger Games were said to be one of the fastest-playing games in the last 20 years.

While technically it lasted three days the sun only set twice and rose once, 23 people dead in less than 36 hours. And the capitol loved every bit of it.

They loved the brutality of tributes, they loved the sacrifices, they loved the alliances.

But mostly they loved the girl from four.

A girl who never knew what monster awaited her at nightfall, whether it be a pity love or an admiration love for winning against him in the end is a 50/50 from all the viewers.

The one thing they didn't like was when the sponsor's system went offline and all the tributes couldn't get any outside help from those who had placed bets.

It was never really in their hands and for the first time in history, no one on the outside could greatly affect the games.

None of that mattered though. What mattered to them as of now was that the president was trying to convict their new sweetheart.

They had heard of the peacekeeper dying as a result of trying to bring the girl back home after the arena collapsed in on itself but no one believed it was actually her fault for there was now no proof. And he had no choice but to let her go before she even knew she was tried.

All of this was told to Cilla as she lay almost catatonic on the hospital bed. Finnick was the only one in the room with her, they thought it best he was to tell her everything.

Only none of it mattered to her.

She didn't care that the capital loved her. She didn't care the sponsors couldn't help her. She didn't care that there was a chance she was almost sentenced to death. She only cared about the other news Finnick had told her.

The arena didn't collapse on itself, outsiders attacked it.

Rebels stole the bodies of all the remaining tributes from the last few moments in the arena. Which meant there was now nothing left of her brother from the last time she saw him, there was nobody to bring home and bury.

Not to mention, Tigris hadn't been seen since she went into the arena.

Finnick tried his best to console the girl but it was no use.

For the next few days, she wouldn't move from that spot on the bed. The hospital staff had to give her IVs as she wouldn't eat or drink.

But the show still needed to go on.

The interviews and the crowning still had to be conducted. Cilla was given a dose of some drug that would make her snap out of the catatonic-like state. And it surprisingly worked, she was up and awake on her way to get styled for her showing. Her mind was buzzing as everything was hazy around her, nothing quite making sense to her.

The next few hours passed by so slowly.

Cilla was dragged around by stylists, her hair was curled and somewhat put up into some extravagant hairstyle, two thick braids on either side of her head that fell into the rest. Her dress was fixed with some last-minute changes that erased what Tigris had made. She had tried to add more depth to the dress but Snow cut it off- he didn't want a reminder in his face of what he had done.

Cilla was going to remind him either way.

The way she moved, the way she spoke, hell, even then the way her hair naturally fell reminded him of her.