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Finnick and Octavia met on the roof again that night.

It wasn't anything special, just two- friends, if that was even possible, talking about how shitty their life was.

He dropped the girl off at her door, telling her about how he wish he was doing this under different circumstances. She just smiled and kissed his lips, laughing and saying she missed his cheek.

And that was that, and now she lay in her bed, facing the wall where the projection of the galaxy was displayed.

She was just a star in a sea of both smaller and larger ones, an expansive sea of lies and murder and redemption.

With that thought loitering in the back of her mind, Octavia closed her eyes and fell asleep.

_

The next morning was as monotone as all the others. She simply put on a pair of loose beige pants and a blue sweater, wandering out to find Persia perched on a stool.

"Hey," her voice was scratchy, and judging by the empty glass and bottle of scotch next to her, Octavia could guess why.

"Hey," Octavia mumbled back, grabbing an apple and digging around the fridge to find some cheese. She spread it on a piece of bread, and sat down with her meal.

"Don't overeat," Persia warned, taking the bottle of scotch and pouring some into a glass.

The two friends, mentor and tribute, sat in a comfortable silence, until Veah entered the small apartment suite and nodded solemnly at Octavia.

"You know what to do, Octavia. I trust you," Persia said, stumbling slightly on her words. Octavia only smiled, embracing the older woman and walking towards where Veah stood.

_

"It's definately tropical," Veah said,  pinching the fabric of the wetsuit Octavia wore. It clung to every inch of her body, like a second skin. Her hair was tied up into a high ponytail on her head, a single strand braided to give some sort of variety.

"Great, its my games all over again," Octavia mumbled, scoffing as she picked at her nails. Veah swatted her hand away, scolding her about chewing them to the nub.

"No," Veah grabbed her shoulders forcefully, "these are your games. I know what you're doing, what you agreed to and I support you one-hundred percent. But you need to be careful, I did my part in helping you for these interviews and parades, now its time for you to survive, to help her survive."

Veah paused, reaching to gently wipe a tear that flowed down Octavias cheek. Octavia cursed herself, sniffling slightly. This was not the time to get emotional, this was not the time to be weak or feeble.

"Sixty seconds."

She walked towards the tube on shaky feet, running a hand down the glass. Turning to Veah, Octavia ran and embraced her stylist, her friend, for what she assumed would be their last hug, last conversation, last interaction.

"Please, help Adriana if you can, Vee. She'll need a familiar face," was all Octavia offered before stepping warily into the tube as the monotone voice said there was ten seconds left.

Her words were meaningless, though. Because as soon as the glass door closed, confining her to the small tube three peacekeepers barged through, weapons in hand.

"No.. NO!" Octavia cried, her agony echoing. Veah took a blow to the ribs, then the temple until she was nothing but a bloody mess.

Her eyes glasses over as they met Octavias hateful, frenzied expression.

"I'LL KILL YOU! I'LL FUCKING KILL YOU!" She screamed, pounding on the glass doors. She continued screaming until she was brought into the sight of water, the sun beating down on her already exhausted form. She glanced around, seeing Katniss a few pillars down, but no Finnick or Peeta in sight.

She evened her breathing, sucking in a shaky breath before listening to the countdown as it sounded throughout the arena.

5

This isn't a child's game anymore- everyone in this arena has killed, has witnessed killing. She wasn't the tiny  little girl who was stealthy and good with a knife. No, she was little miss Octavia who was forced to raise a little girl, who fell in love with a fellow victor she was now fighting against.

4

She was more than what people viewed her as. She was the girl who spent days throwing household knives at trees and makeshift dummies, the girl who mastered the art of throwing a knife and striking precisely after she survived the games. She was more than what they thought.

3

That is what she knew, what she told herself as the seconds ticked down.

2

For Adriana, for Persia, for her mom, for Johanna, for Finnick, for herself.

1

For a better world.

_

Where was she?

That was the only thought that crossed Finnicks mind as he frantically searched around him.

Of course- she was on the opposite side of the cornucopia. He thought- no, he knew she could hold her own in a fight. It was the fact that the careers despised her, that they would like nothing more than her dead that bothered him.

He readied himself for the no doubt deep, unforgiving water that lurked under him. It was almost as if the arena was made for him.

When the time began to dwindle down to the last ten seconds, he took a deep breath before mumbling something under his breath.

He would give them hell, and he would protect the face of the revolution and the girl he loves all the while.

_

a/n

hi loves, this chapter was a bit boring and short in comparison to the most recent chapters but i love you all. have a good day or night -ave:)

note from future averie!! ive finished prewriting this book. expect it to be completely or almost completely published when we reach 3k reads:)

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