That Fine Line

Chapter 14 - Poetic

He tilted his head in curiosity. "I'd love to know more, and I'm glad to hear of your outlook on the Capitol as a second home, but I'm afraid it's time for our next tribute's interview. Thank you for gracing us with your absolutely enchanting presence. Give us a little prance on your way out, would you? We'd love to see those frills in action once more."

I nodded, making my way off the stage elegantly yet keeping my steps light at the same time.

"Gosh, it's like she's wading through water."

As I disappeared behind the curtain, Caesar began to introduce Finnick. The second his name was mentioned, screams and wails sounded from the crowd, the majority from females, but a few deeper voices called out to him as well.

After the usual introductions, what with the reminder of how he'd won his Games, the commentary on his outfit, and how he'd been doing so far, something different happened.

"I understand that you have a message for somebody out there- a special somebody." Caesar chuckled heartily. "Can we hear it?"

I watched the screen as Finnick prepared himself, gazing into the camera with as much earnest as he could muster.

"My love," The screaming shattered my eardrums. "You have my heart for all eternity. If I die in that arena, my last thought will be of your lips."

I rolled my eyes. I seriously could not stand this guy. If I had the choice to, I would have just left and went back to the Training Center. But now I had to sit through this and stand next to this fake, manipulative prostitute for the rest of the hour. Just when I'd thought he was a salvageable person outside of condemning me to a life of fishing, he had to remind me why I wanted to kill him in the first place.

Caesar bid his farewells, and Finnick made his way off the stage to stand next to me.

"So," I asked mockingly, "Which one of your customers was that directed to?"

He looked at me gravely. "It wasn't for a customer."

I was surprised by how serious his mood had shifted. It sort of frightened me. "Who was it for?"

He searched my face for a second, then his gaze lingered directly at my eyes. I felt such a strong urge to look away, but I couldn't. I was trapped. 

"Annie."

I stiffened. It felt like my stomach had just fell through my body onto the floor. My whole body felt limp and tense at the same time. Suddenly, I no longer felt beautiful. The dress could have been a garbage bag for all I'd known. If I had looked in the mirror at that instant, I was certain I would have seen an old sea witch staring back at me instead of a gorgeous mermaid out of a fairy tale. What had once been a girl, high on confidence, was now out of supply and suffering through terrible withdrawal symptoms.

"Oh," was all I could say. I stared blankly at him, trying my best to hide the fact that my heart felt like it had been torn apart.

Finnick seemed to notice my disappointment, as regret began to settle on his face. We stood in silence for the rest of the interviews.

Had I secretly hoped his poem was directed towards me? No, that's impossible. Why would I want his public proclamation of love to be for me? I hated this man with my entire being of existence. 

But there was a part of me that wished so badly that his poem had been about a shallow customer of his rather than someone with a name attached. It would have convinced me that I was right about there truly being nothing good about this man, as he was just trying to gain sponsors by through emotional exploitation. Now, it was even more difficult to understand how I felt towards him, knowing that he wasn't as unprincipled as I'd thought he was, and that he genuinely cared about someone.

Too bad that person wasn't me.