Splintered

Chapter Fifty-Six: Beauty and Bruises

Crisscrossing lines of people branched out from the justice building steps. They stretched so far that they curled around the corners of alleyways and other buildings. Even when elevated and squinting, the ends were completely invisible.

In the hands of the burbling crowd were the familiar trading cards, along with stuffed animals, clothing, books, magazines, and posters. Children and adults alike jittered in anticipation as they moved up the line.

Hazel and Mags set to work dutifully penning their signatures on whatever they were presented. Though some of the reactions of the people as they did were perplexing. Most showered them with praise and accolades, while others asked questions. Those ranged from benign to invasive.

What was it like to be a Victor?

Who was their favorite ally?

Who was their strongest opponent?

What was Victor's village like?

Were their homes as refined as those in the Capitol?

What did they think the arena would look like next year?

If you didn't win, who do you think would have?

Naturally, Hazel was bombarded with questions about District Seven. One child even asked if there were really monsters, twice the size of a normal man, roaming the northern woods. Despite sharing a continent, each District was mired in mystery and folklore to the others.

But more often than not, people offered their own input, their feelings, their thoughts, and even their theories on how things may have gone differently. Often, these were levelled at them by the Capitol visitors. At least, the people of District Four had the decency to avoid such lines.

Mag's ability to smile and answer without even a hint of anything other than gratitude was admirable, and Hazel did her best to follow the lead of the older Victor.

Working his way up one side of the row, Augustus was canvassing with vigor, smiling and shaking the hands of various patrons. He was easy to spot with his ridiculously vibrant suit. Every so often, he would pause his performance, and his tan stare would slide over the two Victors before returning to his task.

Mags kept her head down while Hazel squirmed, though having Leo hovering behind her gave her a sense of security.

Despite appearances, none of it was overlooked by Snow. He'd made fewer waves, settling into a corner with a select group from the Capitol and Festus.

If Snow was bothered by Augustus's presence, he didn't give it away in the slightest. What he did give away, however, was the attention he openly bestowed on Hazel. A side smile, a tilt of his head when she made a child laugh, and worst of all, the light pattering of his gloved fingers against his lips whenever their eyes met. The cameras devoured all of it like a fatty feast.

He was putting on a different kind of show than Augustus, but it was no less of a production. No less of a strategy.

Hazel might have been impressed if she hadn't been the one caught in the middle of it.

Without fail, questions were leveled at her about Snow. A bubbly young woman blushed as she asked what he smelled like. Another inquired about how she managed to articulate sentences around him with those baby blues. Hazel's face would flame as she dodged such statements, offering vague or coy answers instead.

"Oh, you know." Or "He makes things interesting."

At times, she could get away with a simple bashful smile and no words at all. The people seemed pleased all the same. They would grin knowingly while Hazel's stomach churned, convincing herself she was only playing her part.