Living Lies ✜ Hunger Games x Reader

Maybe

You feel like screaming at the screen.

Now that you know that it is Katniss, you can't help but feel the irony at your different reaction. If Peeta would have admitted his feelings back in District 12, you would have squealed right along with your best friend and helped her get ready to go out with him.

But here? Now?

You feel resentment.

Now that you know that he reciprocates your best friend's feelings, how can you let him get killed—or worse, kill him yourself? Will this revelation hurt Katniss more than your deaths? You want to keep your promise to your friend, to always be her friend, but you also made a promise, to your mom, to Prim—to Gale. Is it more important than Katniss' feelings?

More importantly, is Peeta more important to Katniss than you are?

Questions, questions, questions.

You never asked for the Hunger Games, but now you're worried that your resolve to escape them will falter based on this newfound information. Infuriated at your sudden doubt, you spin on your ridiculous heels and storm off to intercept Peeta from the stage exit.

Shoes clicking on the shiny floor, you spot him exiting the stage and quickly swerve to the side towards him. Grabbing his arm, you spin him around to face you and shove him off balance against the wall. Holding your arm across his neck, you corner him and start you onslaught of questions.

"What the hell was that? Is this why you didn't want us to train together? So you could pull this stunt? Are you trying to hurt my friend? Do you have any idea how hard of place you've put me in with that stupid confession?"

Suddenly a hand grips your shoulder and pulls you away from Peeta. You spin around, ready to slap whoever pulled you away. Unfortunately, it's Haymitch, so you can't slap him. At least not on the face.

Effie and Portia help Peeta away from the wall—or, more specifically, away from you—as Haymitch pulls you aside. "Why did you—"

"You helped him, didn't you? You seem to just want to help anybody and everybody except me," you slap his hand away, cutting him off. "Now I look like an idiot! What kind of person would make somebody else choose between their best friend and their own life? Katniss is why I'm here in the first place—I was protecting her!"

"You are an idiot," Haymitch scoffs. "He just helped you."

"How so? It makes me look like a monster if I don't help Peeta out of here so he can be with Katniss!"

Haymitch hesitates for a brief second before responding. "He gave people a reason to root for you," he replies. "You were about as friendly as dirt until he made you look like his lover's good friend. People are already calling  Katniss and Peeta the 'star-crossed lovers from District 12', and you, well, you're their matchmaker."

You sigh in frustration, rubbing your forehead. "This is insane!" you blurt out.

"People are already rooting for you to save him," Haymitch says bluntly. "It's a show. Entertain them. He said he wouldn't win if it meant killing you. He made you look like a good friend, now all you have to do is carry it through. You two need to get your act together and stick together if you want to live. If anything, he gave you some of his own sponsors."

Somewhere deep inside you, you know what he's saying makes sense. Not that he's necessarily right—shoot, none of this is right—but it's the only way you could possibly come out alive.

"You could, at the least, told me whatever you were planning," you say finally, feeling irritated for a new reason, "so that way I wouldn't be screaming on the inside with indecision and betrayal. I feel like an idiot."