HOW THE DEMONS WEEP | CATCHING FIRE

02.

CHAPTER TWO

MORNING CAME QUICKLY and Cecelia now sat on a stool in her kitchen, having woken up only minutes ago after a restless night. She stared mindlessly at the wall opposite her, thoughts of the games and the Capitol plaguing her mind as her fingers toyed with the bandages wrapped around her knuckles.

She started the day with yet another phone call, except this time not from a voice she wanted to hear. She remembered having to fight the urge to let the tears fall as she listened, once again being reminded of her inevitable fate by the overly enthusiastic voice of one of her trainers.

She was informed that training for the games would start early the next morning. And at the end of the day, they would choose the volunteers for that year's games. Because even though the reaping was months away, District One needed to drill their tributes into the ground with exercises and training to ensure yet another win.

Cecelia realized there really was no escape from the Capitol and the games and the glory. Because everyone got reeled back in eventually, whether they choose to or not. It was all just a part of Snow's little game, his torture to secure his hold on Panem. It all just went around and around in an endless cycle.

She knew she wasn't supposed to think like that. Because everyone had to like and follow President Coriolanus Snow's every word. Anything else was treason.

It only fueled her hatred. For Snow. For the Capitol. It was hatred she kept bottled up, that never saw the light of day. Because of course, she couldn't let anyone know. She's always been in the Capitol's spotlight, but after her games, she'd quickly become one of the Capitol's finest gems, constantly in the limelight, being analyzed under the microscope. Any wrong move and Snow would have her head.

So, she played the part. She followed his orders, lived quietly in the district then played the glamourous role she was forced into in the Capitol. Her lean physique, soft and rounded features, raven hair, and stark emerald green eyes deemed desirable to Capitol citizens, men and women alike. She was passed from client to client, night after night, because Snow merely saw her as a business opportunity.

The one thing she could count on, the one person she knew she could go to for comfort, was Finnick. Because he was in the same position as her, an object for Capitol wealth to merely play with at their disposal. She needed him, and he needed her. After a long day, no matter how uneventful or rough, either were welcome to visit the other. That soon turned into every night, both becoming accustomed to having the other as somewhat of a security blanket in the overwhelming world that was the Capitol.

As Cecelia got up to make some tea, she thought back to when she first won her games, when Snow first approached her. She'd been at one of the countless Capitol parties she attended as a celebration of her win when a man had approached her, tapping on her shoulder and telling her a 'special someone' wanted to speak to her. She'd blindly followed the man deep into the president's mansion, where the party was being held, until they approached a large door at the end of the hall.

She still remembered the overwhelming smell of roses that attacked her senses as she walked into the room only to find the president himself, sitting at his desk. He had his usual white rose tucked in his shirt pocket and devious, seemingly polite, smile that held secrets she could only imagine.

She also remembered the way his lips curled around his teeth as he greeted her with a smile that didn't reach his eyes. He'd entertained small talk, inquiring about her days on the tour and time in the Capitol, before asking her if she would be interested in 'entertaining' a few of his Capitol guests that night for a considerable payment in return. She politely declined his offer, after much negotiating, and excused herself to return to the party downstairs.