² MANIA ─ catching fire

[ 005 ] queen of hearts

THERE WAS SOMETHING ATLAS HAD KEPT OUT OF THE NARRATIVE INTENTIONALLY. Omitted not out of shame or fear but because it was easier for him to justify how vehemently he needed to protect her. After watching the tape of Alecto's Hunger Games, all the little things he'd tucked away out of convenience seemed to come creeping out through the floorboards of the empty house in the back of his head to haunt him again. Some nights Atlas wondered if she deserved it. He knew what she'd done, what she could do to people, what she did to Iko to achieve her goal. If he allowed such a monster into his home, fed her, clothed her, kept her warm, tucked her into bed every night, what did that say about him? A father must love his daughter, and he did. But did loving her justify excusing her actions? Protecting her like this, constantly sheltering her from consequences, what was he allowing her to become?

As both District 2 tributes entered the ground floor of the Remake Centre in time to join the other tributes and their mentors in the stables, Atlas instantly felt the magnetic effect of gazes gravitating towards them. Only Evander chaperoned them to the opening ceremony. Iko had been whisked away to some fancy Capitol hospital to make full use of their expensive technology to repair her injuries. She'd left them while they were being fussed over by their prep team, and dressed by their stylists, Janus and Rhea. This year, they were dressed as ancient gladiators, gold-plated chest pieces and matching swords and shields to complete the costume. According to Evander, the doctors were saying Iko should be back by tomorrow morning.

In periphery, Atlas spotted last year's victors staring right at Alecto from all the way across the stables. Peeta's face face sheet-white, horror marbling the thinning composure in his gaze. Katniss had one hand on the neck of one of her coal-black horses, her features hardened, hostility sharpening her eyes. They were only two years apart, Atlas realised, with a jolt of unease creeping up his spine. Only seventeen, and Katniss was set to be married—though the wedding was cancelled at the last minute in favour of the Quarter Quell—while Alecto, who'd turned nineteen some months ago, still wouldn't speak one word to anyone. A small pang in his chest almost had him stopped in his tracks. Pushing the urge to hole up in a small closet to fall apart deep down into the abyss of his chest, Atlas pressed on, nodding and waving in acknowledgement at familiar faces as he passed by clusters of tributes and mentors standing by their chariots.

"Atlas!" A familiar voice called delightedly. Atlas turned, and spotted Cashmere in all her glittering and golden glory, rushing over to him with an elated grin. District 1 made its primary living in the manufacturing of luxurious goods. Because of that, Cashmere was quite literally dripping in diamonds and gold chains, light glinted off her parade costume, blinding sparks that burned white spots into his vision when he blinked. Every step she took made an obnoxious tinkling sound, and when she threw her arms around his neck in a fierce hug, the jewels clattered against the metallic chest-plate of his costume, and Atlas couldn't help but wince as the sharp edges of her costume dug into his arms. "Oh, darling, it's been too long! How've you been?"

It'd only been two months since they'd last met up. There had been a massive gala in the Capitol, and one of Alecto's sponsors had invited them to the fancy-dress event. Both dazzlingly young and beautiful, Cashmere and Gloss, inseparable as always, had attended as well. They were a novelty; the only pair of siblings who'd become victors, a truly glorious gene pool. While Atlas and Alecto had no interest in staying until the late hours, and had merely turned up to show face, the pair of twins from District 1 were genuinely having a good time, mingling with all the victors who'd also been invited, as well as handfuls of the Capitol people, flirting with whoever came up to them with drinks and conversation. Atlas chalked their exceptional people skills to their district customs. While District 2 was also a Career district, possibly the most notorious out of the three, their efforts were more heavily concentrated on conditioning their children to be ruthless warriors. Parties, social events, and other non-training activities were considered frivolous and distractions from the big goal. All the District 2 victors tended to be cold and standoffish, albeit, not totally socially inept. They kept to themselves mostly, limiting socialisation to whoever would come up to them first rather than the reverse.