"You ain't seen nothing yet, kid."
Peacekeepers escort me to Finnick , waiting by a glass elevator, who will take me down to the chariots for the parade. He's wearing tight black dress trousers and a white tunic , several of the top buttons undone. When his eyes catch mine , he does a double take , and I glance behind me to see if anyone else is coming . It's just me.
He meets the Peacekeepers halfway , nodding to them , and they walk back down the corridor. He glances at me , and looks me up and down, observing my outfit.
"Well don't you look," he pauses , looking up at my headpiece, "powerful."
I smile, but with tight lips. I feel as though I could throw up at any moment, and the extra imbalance from my heeled shoes isn't helping my growing nausea. I'm definitely going to puke.
Finnick sees my discomfort , and begins to circle me, like everyone else today. I'm starting to feel like a sculpture in a museum instead of a person. "Did they add that green tinge to your face , or is that just you?" he almost laughs at my near-pained expression.
"Very funny. Just take me down so I can get this over with" I take careful steps toward the elevator, and I feel like my feet may fall off.
We get in the elevator and Finnick presses a button at the bottom of the door , and the doors slide closed. The space is small , so our shoulders are practically touching.
"You nervous?" he asks. His hands rest behind his back.
"Oh , not at all. You know , just about to present myself to thousands of people. People that could determine whether or not I live. Normal stuff." My hands wring together, and i pick at the skin around my thumbs, an anxious habit of mine.
He laughs and tilts his head toward me.
"They're barely real people , Orla. No more intelligence than trout. They don't determine anything out there," he turns , fully facing me now, and points a finger to my chest , "you do."
We stare at each other for a few seconds, ocean gazing into ocean, until the door opens and we step back from one another. He steps out , walking ahead of me to where I can see Ivara , Tiernan and his stylist, and Moss waiting for us. "Walk straight , O'Conner."
Our small posse stands by our chariot , blue and decorated with the same green ribbon that's on my arms. Tiernan looks dashing , in a blue navy suit and royal mantle that matches my dress. We look like a young King and Queen, rulers of a nation deep under the sea. Moss approaches us , a small black remote in his hand. It has one button in the centre.
"Both of you can swim , right?" he says , Tiernan and I giving him confused looks.
"Oh no , not at all. Not like those District Seven kids." I say playfully.
Moss tuts, and hands the remote to me.
"Just press that whenever you're ready. You'll love it."
We're hoisted into the chariot, and the anthem begins as the wide doors of the remake centre open , revealing the packed streets of the Capital. The parade lasts twenty minutes ,and ends in the city circle , where will be transported to the Tribute Centre, our home until the games.
The tributes from District One roll out in a snow white chariot pulled by white horses. They look stunning, their skin painted silver and covered head to toe in jewels. District one makes luxury items and supplies them to the Capital. The street roars for them. They are always crowd favourites. District Two follows them , their tributes in gold tunics and headpieces , imitating gods. Once again , the Careers have won the crowd in less than a minute.
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𝐌𝐞𝐦𝐨𝐫𝐢𝐞𝐬; 𝐅𝐢𝐧𝐧𝐢𝐜𝐤 𝐎𝐝𝐚𝐢𝐫.
Fanfiction"It takes ten times as long to put yourself back together as it does to fall apart." Every victor of the Hunger Games has been a mentor to the tributes of their district , preparing them for a fight to the death. Having Finnick Odair as a mentor had...
