ghosts that we knew: A mockingjay fanfiction

Chapter 6

•Peeta is in the capitol•

Disclaimer: I own nothing!

Chapter 6

Peeta

The lights on the stage dim, the pre-recorded applause dies down, and Caesar Flickerman's smile dissipates. He massages his jaw, tense from all of the years of smiling and Capitol-made enhancements, and sends me a wink. For a brief moment, I am able to see beneath the veneer of the beloved talk-show host and into how truly tiring his job can be.

Yes, pity him, the cynic inside of me chides, because being happy all the time when you're really just tired is the hardest job among the people in this room.

"Nicely done, Peeta," Caesar says quietly.

"Thank you, Caesar," I reply cordially. We both know that what I have just performed was far from "nice".

Caesar sends me a flash of his blinding white teeth in a sincere smile before disappearing from the studio. He is replaced by two daunting Peacekeepers who grab my arms and abrasively shove them behind my back. Doing things "nicely" here, I realize as I am dragged down the drab halls of the Capitol's prison, is precisely how the Capitol mentality works. You can do everything in your power to make sure your job is done "nicely", but "nice" will only ever translate to "adequate and nothing more", and no amount of trying can change that fact. Nothing I do will ever meet the expectations of the Capitol.

My imprisonment has been the very definition of the word "nice". I have been fed daily with generous Capitol meals, slept in a bed, had access to recreational activities, and worn clothes that were reminiscent my late stylist, Portia's, design. Technically, I am a prisoner of this war, but to anyone watching in District Thirteen, it looks like I am on the Capitol's side. That is the only explanation, I have concluded, for why the Capitol is treating me with such dignity and respect despite the fact that I could very well be working for the rebels.

The "niceness" of my stay will reach its expiration date as more news of these rebels emerges and continues to slander the Capitol, and my role in the matter will certainly evolve as the Capitol is faced with the struggle of trying to use me against Thirteen all while believing that I am working for the rebels. How it will change, I do not know. The power lies completely in the Capitol's hands.

I am exactly what I vowed to never become: a pawn in this twisted game.

I had heard nothing of the rebels until a hand-written message from Snow described them to me. When I first discovered that Haymitch, Finnick, Plutarch Heavensbee, and Katniss were all safe in the once-fabled District Thirteen, my emotions ran the gamut. A small part of me was hurt, confused, and upset that I had not been important enough to save in the grand scheme of the rebellion. But the majority of me was relieved that she was at least far away from where I was.

Also detailed in Snow's letter was the news that many of the tributes involved in the Third Quarter Quell were informed of the rebellion against the Capitol, and Katniss and I were no exception given the alliance we were involved in. In an interview with Caesar, I was to honestly admit everything I knew about the rebellion before and during the Quell, as well as expose Katniss' knowledge to the world. I was aware that Caesar would ask me to verbalize a message to send to Thirteen. Snow had also detailed this message in his letter, which I had memorized word for word.

He gave me a week to come up with a performance that would "convince him that Katniss and I were the innocent tributes we claimed to be, as well as come up with a logical response to Caesar's final question so that Thirteen may know where the Capitol stands" and he "certainly hoped I would not let him down".