𝐀𝐌𝐄𝐑𝐈𝐂𝐀𝐍 𝐏𝐈𝐄 ━━ finnick odair ✓

𝐭𝐡𝐢𝐫𝐭𝐞𝐞𝐧. ( philosophy interrupted )

 Over the course of the next few days, Finnick helps me to craft a camera-ready personality from the husk I've been presenting lately. We prepare my house in victor's village for the cameras. He says it won't do to show my father's home off, it'll seem ungrateful to the Capitol. The mayor was kind enough to send the piano over to the property, which makes the plain decor a bit less dreary. Finnick's asked that I at least attempt to sleep there, but I can't bring myself to enter the empty house past sunset.

And though she's reassured me that she'll be able to manage alone, I feel terrible for leaving Piper at the shop without help every day. So instead of making my usual trek to victor's village in the morning, I pull off the typical path early to head to the store. When I push open the glass door, the small bell rings at the top and I hear Piper call a muffled "Just a second," from the back room.

When she sees it's me she crosses her arms in a comical presentation of a scolding mother. "I thought you needed to be practicing piano." She moves to tidy up a pile of fabrics on the counter.

"Yeah, but you obviously need me here to clean up after you." I assist her in picking up the scraps on the floor.

"Fine, but don't blame me when you can hardly play Mary had a Little Lamb for the cameras on Monday," she says, shaking a roll of felt at me.

"I'll practice later. I just needed a break from the constant tour prepping. It's almost as if I'd been raised in a barn the way Finnick's coaching me." I snort, pushing the plaid pieces into the proper bin.

"I'd give anything to be prepped by that man." Piper sighs, fanning her face in an exaggerated manner.

"You can have him!" I say "He's nothing but a thorn in my side right now. Stand up straight Faraday, don't mumble when you speak, you look like a child when you get worked up." I imitate his smooth voice.

"You do look like a child when you get all worked up, he's right."

"Can't you be mad with me for just a moment?" I beg.

"Fine, it's so awful that you have to spend your days with the tall, tan, handsome, famed victor from District 4." She dashes out of the way when I aim a yarn bundle at her head. "I know it's been hard on you. But just think, it'll all be over soon. You'll be back to working here with me in this dusty old place, eating fish for breakfast every morning. You'll be able to comfortably fade into your peaceful retirement."

Her voice is soothing, but I feel anything but reassured. She's wrong. That may have been what my mother was allowed to do, but I won't be able to fade from the public eye until I'm deemed so undesirable that nobody wants me around anymore.

Will Piper see what I'll become over the next few years? Will she resent me for my new lifestyle? I hope she understands that I'll do what I must to survive, to keep her and my father alive. My eyes prickle with the beginnings of tears, so I rush back to the storage room with a quick shout that I'll be organizing if she needs me.

Deciding to go all in this time, I tear all of the bins out from the shelves and begin sorting through them. Every so often I find a loose spool of thread tucked among the mixed fabrics, so I begin to make a pile of them. After an hour, my pile of thread has grown to look like a large, colorful anthill. When the bins are repacked onto the shelves, I bundle the bobbins into the loose material of my shirt. The squeeze back to the thread cabinet is much slower than usual with my extra caution not to drop any thread onto the floor.

When I finally reach the open recess, I let out a sigh of relief. I begin to tread towards the cabinet, but stop when a familiar fabric catches my eye. I turn in full to stare at the mannequin wearing the short coral dress. It's the dress Audrey wore to the interviews. Then it's Audrey standing there, spinning to show her distaste for the outfit. Her delicate frame moves just the way I remember, like a small fawn bounding through the forest. My breath catches in my throat and the thread comes tumbling out of my grasp.