𝐌𝐚𝐧𝐢𝐩𝐮𝐥𝐚𝐭𝐨𝐫, Finnick Odair

𝑻𝒉𝒆 𝑭𝒊𝒓𝒔𝒕 𝑺𝒕𝒐𝒑

Aphrodite sat on the plush velvet seat by the train's window, staring out at the endless stretch of trees and mountains that blurred by. The Victory Tour train was far grander than anything she'd ever been on, with dark mahogany wood and luxurious blue and gold decor. Next to her sat Finnick, occasionally glancing her way with a mix of concern and an attempt at forced cheer. Across from them, Candelaria, her overly vibrant escort, was talking excitedly about the tour's itinerary, seemingly unaware of the tension hanging in the air.

"So, District Twelve first!" Candelaria chirped, a grin plastered on her face as if she were announcing a lavish vacation and not a journey dredging up painful memories for Aphrodite. "We'll start at the top and work our way down through each District, and then..." Her eyes sparkled as she clapped her hands together. "We end in the Capitol with the grand celebration!"

Aphrodite felt her stomach twist at the thought of the Capitol's revelry over her Games. A party celebrating her victory meant celebrating the deaths of everyone else. She nodded mechanically, keeping her gaze fixed out the window, not trusting her voice to respond without a tremor. Beside her, Finnick leaned forward slightly, as if he were about to say something, but Candelaria's next words cut him off.

"Oh, and Aphrodite, your room is just across the hall from mine, so if you need anything at all, you just come and knock," Candelaria said, her voice a bit softer, the warmth surprisingly genuine.

Aphrodite forced a small smile and muttered, "Thank you, Candelaria." She knew Candelaria meant well, but the idea of needing anyone's help felt suffocating.

When it was time for dinner, they made their way to the dining car, where a lavish spread of Capitol food awaited them, all delicate meats and sauces she could barely stomach. But before they could settle in, Aphrodite excused herself, mumbling something about being tired. She saw the disappointment flicker in Candelaria's eyes but turned away, needing the solitude more than she could explain.

Her room on the train was as lavish as the rest—soft sheets, golden trimmings, a window with thick curtains she could close to shut out the world. She lay down, her mind buzzing with memories she didn't want. She tried to focus on the softness of the bed, on the rhythmic rumble of the train, but sleep didn't come easy.

When it did, her dreams twisted into a nightmare that felt all too real.

She was back in the arena, running through the forest, her heart pounding as darkness closed in around her. She could hear faint whispers—Ash's voice, calling her name in a raspy, broken way that made her throat ache. She stumbled, falling to her knees, and when she looked up, Venus was standing in front of her, blood trickling down her temple, a twisted smile on her face.

"Aphrodite," Venus whispered, her voice echoing in the suffocating darkness. "Is this what you wanted? Is this victory enough?"

Aphrodite backed away, but the shadows stretched, surrounding her, trapping her. She felt a hand on her shoulder and spun around to see Sam, his face contorted with fear and betrayal. "You left me," he whispered, his eyes glassy and distant. "You left me to die."

"I didn't... I didn't mean to..." Aphrodite's voice was barely a whimper, but the shadows were thickening, clawing at her, pulling her back to the arena where the cries of the fallen echoed in a haunting symphony.

Suddenly, she was in the dark forest again, the same forest from her final battle. She could see Ridge's lifeless eyes staring at her, his blood staining the ground, spreading and pooling until it was up to her ankles, pulling her down, suffocating her. Her chest tightened as the forest seemed to grow darker, the shadows morphing into hands that grabbed at her, pulling her under the ground, and burying her alive.