𝐌𝐚𝐧𝐢𝐩𝐮𝐥𝐚𝐭𝐨𝐫, Finnick Odair

𝑻𝒉𝒆 𝑺𝒕𝒐𝒓𝒚

As they exited their chariots and entered the tribute center, a heavy dread began to settle over Aphrodite. The bright lights and the overwhelming buzz of the Capitol did nothing to ease the storm brewing in her mind. Hours of forced manipulation, of carefully sculpted performances for the cameras, still echoed in her head. Her mother's voice rang louder than ever, demanding perfection, demanding she play the game as it was meant to be played. She had spent so long crafting a persona—one that would make her the Capitol's darling, the one to watch. But now, here she was, thinking about someone else, thinking about Ash.

The realization hit her hard. She'd been pushing him, trying to get him to act for the Capitol to boost her. But now...all she could think about was her at 11 years old sobbing from being forced to play pretend. So from now on she would support him instead of forcing him. She would be fine if she didn't manipulate one person.

Her mother would be furious. If she could hear Aphrodite's thoughts, she would throw a tantrum, demand that her daughter focus on winning, on herself, and not waste energy on a lost cause. "Don't be weak," her mother would snap. "You have to be ruthless, Aphrodite. Only one can win."

But at this moment, Aphrodite didn't care. She had to make her own decision. She would not become another pawn in her mother's game. Helping Ash—keeping his trust, supporting him in whatever way she could—felt like the right choice.

"Good job, you guys!" Finnick says as he and Candelaria approach, Finnick's trademark smirk making her stomach tighten.

The moment her eyes landed on his face, she was reminded of the most crucial lesson her mother had ever taught her.

"It's said that mentors choose one tribute to focus on, the one they use sponsor money on the one they believe will win, And in the end, only one can claim victory. That must be you, Aphrodite."

Her mother's words echoed in her mind, sharp and unwavering. Aphrodite watched Finnick's confident stride, his gaze sweeping over her and Ash. The unspoken competition between them lingered in the air and Ash didn't even know it. She did not doubt that Finnick would zero in on the tribute he deemed most likely to survive the Games. And she needed to be that tribute.

She had no intention of abandoning Ash. She could still support him, even from the shadows. But if she was to ensure her survival, she had to make Finnick see her as the victor. She needed him to believe in her above all else.

She couldn't let him choose Ash. She couldn't let anyone stand in her way of going home.

She had to be the Victor.

"It was wonderful, my little sugar crumbs!" Candelaria squeals, wrapping them both in a tight hug breaking her out of her thoughts. One of the many flowers in her hair pokes Aphrodite in the face, making her flinch slightly, but she quickly recovers, brushing it away with a smile.

Finnick watches, amused, and Aphrodite takes a small step back to regain her composure.

"Thank you, Candelaria," she says warmly, "for all your help today. You really know how to keep things together." She offers a polite, appreciative smile to Candelaria.

Candelaria beams, clearly thrilled. But Aphrodite shifts her focus to Finnick, her gaze steady, her voice calm.

"Finnick," she begins, offering a genuine compliment but keeping it grounded, "I have to say, I was impressed by how you handled everything today. You know how to capture attention without pushing too hard. It's not easy to do, but you make it look effortless."

Finnick's smirk softens, clearly pleased, but he doesn't let it go to his head. He nods a hint of pride in his eyes. "It's all about understanding the moment," he says with a shrug. "Knowing when to make an impression and when to hold back."