When Luck Runs Out

The Talking Caesar Salad

    Obviously no one cared that we were in the middle of a living room, especially one that had windows surrounding it, they made me change into the suit and pants right there, bickering about the way it fit and all of that. I thought I looked pretty good, for someone who was just spit out of the arena like yesterday's bread. The golden material was stunning, but when I moved the fabric shifted and silver appeared, John's impact on the fashion design. It seemed like years ago we went to our interviews, contemplating what would happen in the games and worrying about if we'd make it or not. I was in gold; he was in silver, the dynamic duo of royalty.
"You look beautiful!" Anthea breathed, straightening out the slightly scrunched up pant leg while Mrs. Hudson fixed the collar. Sara smiled proudly, but she seemed a bit preoccupied. Maybe she was just guilty for making Molly spaz out, and wanted to make sure she was alright.
"Sherlock, you look like a Victor." Mrs. Hudson said proudly. I forced a little smile, but knew that I hated the title already. A Victor was the nicest word you could call a murderous traitor. An empty shell of a person who either goes kill crazy or mentally breaks. I was a bit of both unfortunately.
"John would be happy for you Sherlock, don't look so glum." Anthea insisted.
"You don't know what John would think!" I snapped, making her jump back as if I had hit her.
"Sorry, sorry!" she insisted, looking scared, as if I were about to lash out and strangle her like I did Jeanette. "God, everyone is yelling at me today." She muttered, neatly folding the clothes that I had carelessly dropped on the floor. After that I think the people had come to their senses, and decided that I was too unstable at the moment to pretend like nothing was wrong. They skirted around me like I was some bomb and if they so much as bumped me or pushed the wrong button I'd explode. It's not like I wasn't thinking of pushing Anthea down a set of stairs, or locking Sara and Mrs. Hudson into a room, but still I knew that would be a bit of bad press. Sherlock, the murderous psychopath. But no, I wouldn't kill unless I had to, and I was sure I knew my next target.
"Well, let's get hair and makeup tackled, eat a spot of dinner, and then it's show time." Sara planned, clapping her hands together with excitement. I sighed, my eyes trailing over to Molly's closed door, hoping that she would come out and save me from this torture. They didn't make a big fuss about the location; they made do with a leather recliner and a table cloth. At least it was more comfortable than the neck straining torture devices they have at the stylist building. It took a long while for them to do my makeup, I suppose silver and gold was the main theme today, because my eye shadow was golden with a silver edge, with thick silver eyeliner and golden mascara. I probably looked like a bunch of horrible 1800's currency, but they all seemed to love it. Then they did my hair, which wasn't anything different except they put some gel in it, to make sure the curls stayed all puffy and shiny.
"Well, you look like walking riches." Molly announced, walking out in a red dress, her hair tied back into a messy bun. She looked a lot better, she had obviously taken a shower and put on makeup, so I couldn't tell if she was still pale or not. It was such a relief to see her, now I didn't have to be stuck with all of these crazy women who just couldn't agree on an outfit choice.
"Thank god you're here." I muttered as she walked past me to get some dinner.
"You look better already dear!" Mrs. Hudson decided.
"Ya, sorry about that, I was a bit delusional." Molly admitted.
"What happened dear, please tell me you weren't on any sort of drug." Mrs. Hudson insisted.
"No, nothing like that, I just hadn't been taking care of myself, that's all." Molly sighed.
"But you'll be better, right?" Sara asked worriedly.
"Yes, of course I will." Molly agreed, giving us all a reassuring smile. That might have fooled the stylists, but Mrs. Hudson and I knew a genuine Molly smile from a fake, please shut up Molly smile.
"Well, better get going, Sherlock did you eat anything?" Mrs. Hudson asked.
"No." I sighed.
"Have some bread or something, we can't have you pass out on stage." Mrs. Hudson insisted.
"I won't..." I just sighed, not even seeing the point of arguing, and picking up a piece of warm bread, slapping some butter onto it and eating it the best I could without smearing my makeup or getting any crumbs stuck in the lipstick they had put on.
"Alright, come on, come on, we'll be late!" Mrs. Hudson insisted, herding us into the elevator and pressing the lobby button multiple times, as if that would make it go faster or something.
"Now, smile, look happy to be there, talk about how gracious the capital is, and don't say anything too harsh about Snow or any of the tributes. In fact, don't say anything about Snow, because you always make that face." Mrs. Hudson decided.
"What face?" I asked with disgust.
"That one." she clarified with a laugh. The doors opened and we all rushed to get to the train, well, they rushed. I kind of speed walk with annoyance, jamming my hands into the rippling pants of my suit.
"Don't wrinkle it!" Anthea insisted, pulling me into the train car and smoothing out the fabric once more.
"It's not like it's going to be straight when I sit down or walk." I insisted, but sighed as they rubbed lint rollers all over the fabric. Molly just laughed, standing with one hand on the railing as if she were going to fall or something. When the train stopped finally we were in a large rooved stadium, rushing into the visitor's entrance, where there were a lot of camera people making sure we were ready. I could hear the theme music playing even as we entered, and knew that we were indeed very late.
"Alright, you got this Sherlock, remember, positive attitude!" Mrs. Hudson insisted.
"Do it for John." Molly decided, and I gave a small, unenthusiastic nod before walking to the wing. Caesar was standing above the chairs, laughing his annoying laugh as the crowd cheered and music started to die down.
"Thank you, thank you very much!" he called out through the crowd. "Now, I'm sure all you lovely people know what you're here for, the crowning for the 75th Hunger Games!" Caesar said loudly, and the crowd roared with excitement, obviously not being able to wait to see me. I wasn't that exciting though, was I?
"Then let's welcome this year's Victor, two times Hunger Games Champion, from District Twelve, I present to you Mr. Sherlock Holmes!" Caesar yelled with excitement, and I walked out onto the stage, hearing the crowd scream and yell, the music blasting into my ears, Caesar standing to welcome me. I hated it, I hated every ounce of it. Caesar met me when I made it to the two chairs, shaking my hand enthusiastically and smiling very happily.
"Sherlock, so nice to see you, so very nice indeed." He decided, gesturing for me to sit, which I did. I forced a smile on my face, trying to look like this was one of the biggest honors in the world when in fact I'd rather die a thousand painful deaths.
"Nice to see you too Caesar, always great to be on the show." I lied.
"Well, I see we're matching." Caesar said, staring at me with a smile to see if I had understood. I just gave him a quizzical look, which he seemed to find hysterical, and the crowd laughed right along with him. But Caesar just gestured at the horrible mass of died golden hair on top of his head, and I had to force a laugh. It was drown out anyway by the crowd, who seemed to think that it was the funniest thing in the world.
"Actually, we're not." I shrugged, moving my arms around to show the silver peeking through.
"Now that is fascinating, fascinating! Your stylists really outdid themselves this year." Caesar insisted.
"They did indeed." I agreed. It was true though, this suit was pretty cool.
"But, Sherlock, this isn't just celebration. Yes, you came out on top, yes, you proved that the underdogs can win multiple times, but with a great cost." Caesar said, his smile fading and his tone dropping. The crowd was silent, and I could hear tears already. I hadn't even said anything and those losers were crying.
"It's a cost I was not willing to pay, I'll admit that much." I said.
"John seemed to have his mind set, but you did also. What made you so determined to throw your life on the line like that?" Caesar asked.
"The things we do for love." I sighed. "John and I knew the moment we both volunteered that there was no happy ending to this story. It was just the matter of who died and who had to live on."
"You say 'had to' like it's some sort of punishment." Caesar observed.
"John sacrificed himself, yes, but now I have to live my life without him. He was my first and only love, and I was stupid enough to let him drive a knife..." I cut my own words off, feeling tears start to boil up behind my eyes. If there was any goal to this little performance, it was not to cry, and I was on the verge. Caesar was dabbing his eyes with a little handkerchief, which I found terribly unnecessary.
"Now, remembering our past interview, you said that you were there to protect John. Do you feel like you did that?" Caesar asked.
"I had succeeded I wouldn't be sitting here right now. It would be him. I did everything I should've, I made sure he had enough food, water, blankets. I protected him from the wolves, I turned my sword on Greg and Jeanette when I thought they were betraying us, I killed Jim and freed him from the ropes. I was just stupid, I let the fear of death get between us, and I closed my eyes. Looking back now, I should never had opened them again." I admitted.
"Now Sherlock, tell us, what exactly happened when you killed Jeanette? What sparked that violence in you, the violence that propelled you to kill one of your own?" Caesar asked. I sighed, looking down at the floor and clenching one of my fists, really not wanting to talk about something like this in front of a live audience.
"I was protecting him, as I said before. She was so daring as to kiss him, even though she knew that we were together, and she had to be stopped. But when she started to fight back, I don't know, anger just took over, I was going to protect what was mine and defend my love with my life. She just happened to come out on the bottom." I admitted. Caesar smiled sadly, nodding in agreement.
"And after that, as I'm sure the audience can agree to, my heart stopped. When John turned away from you, my favorite couple, I thought all hope was lost! How exactly did you feel when he left you out there, tied to that pipe?" Caesar asked.
"I felt like an unwanted dog thrown to the streets. But I deserved it. I had done a horrible thing, even if it was for the reasons that seemed right to me. If John was willing to punish me like that, it was obvious that I deserved it." I insisted.
"You seem to think that anything John said was Gospel." Caesar decided.
"He was the love of my life, there was nothing I wouldn't deny him. And if that meant starving for a day and freezing the night, I would do it if he thought it was fit." I insisted.
"Such a caring boyfriend." Caesar muttered. "Men, take notice!" he laughed, and the crowd's somber silence was broken once more by hysterical laughter. I managed to crack a smile, but didn't find it amusing at all.
"Now, during the games, the second or third night, honestly my memory is failing me right now, when you two had a little bit of unintentional public affection..." Caesar pointed out.
"Aw come on, you're killing me!" I defended, feeling my cheeks burn hotter than the stage lights beating down on us. Caesar just laughed, shrugging his arms innocently and smiling out at the laughing crowd.
"I have to admit, when I was watching the one eye was closed and one eye was practically glued to the screen, I couldn't look away as much as I wanted to respect your privacy." He admitted.
"Oh, well, that's...creepy..." I muttered. Caesar laughed so loudly that I wanted to cover my ears, and he gave the crowd a bit of time to recover from this comical genius.
"Thinking as that was the last true moment between you and Mr. Watson, how do you feel about having ended it so early?" Caesar asked. I was now blushing horribly, knowing that if John was watching this from his seats in the clouds, he would be glowing as well.
"I um, I haven't really given that much thought to be honest. But now that I'm looking back, knowing that John and I will never be able to have a moment like that again, I think that we should've possibly, um, done something like that earlier...wow that just sounds wrong." I groaned, and the crowd was laughing. Caesar, for some reason, didn't look uncomfortable at all, but I'm sure that the viewers at home were covering their children's ears.
"Wait, was that the first time you two had kissed?" Caesar asked with dramatic gasp.
"No, god no I'm not that much of a loser!" I insisted.
"Well, I can't just get an answer like that and not ask for the details, come on, out with it, share with the class." Caesar insisted, resting his head on his hands like an excited little child paying undisturbed attention. The crowd was screaming it's approval, how much they all wanted to dig in my personal life, it was disturbing, it really was. I just laughed nervously, looking from Caesar to the yelling and screaming crowd.
"Oh, well, if you insist. I'm sure John wouldn't mind too much." I muttered, glancing to the ceiling as if I could see straight through it to Heaven, where a blushing John probably sat with all of the fat little cherubs. It hurt me to think of him up there, not in the wings with Mrs. Hudson and Molly, but in Heaven, smiling down on me, but never so see me smile back.
"Alright, alright, when was the first time you two kissed?" Caesar asked. I opened my mouth to speak, but was cut off by Caesar holding an extremely large microphone, holding it very close to my face with a look of pure determination.
"Oh, sorry, who put that there?" he muttered, giving the crowd a guilty expression and stuffing the microphone back under his chair. There were roars of laughter, and even I had to crack a small smile at the absolute idiocy of the Capital citizens.
"Well, um, the first time we kissed was before he went into the games, his games, and I had to say goodbye. I thought it would be my last chance, and I was already so taken with him, I couldn't let him go in there and die without me expressing my feelings." I muttered, taking a deep breath to try to stifle my shaking arms. I hated talking about John this way; I hated dumping all of our personal information on live TV, John would hate me for it, I was sure of it. But if I wanted the people's support, if Molly and I really were going to inflict our rage onto the Capital, we'll need all of the help we can get.