lover/fighter - Finnick Odair

Chapter 6 - How waves meet the shore

Finnick Odair

Victor, playboy and darling of the Capitol.

His name has been haunting Rhea's mind since morning. Of course she knows who he is, as presumably does everyone in Panem. How could she not, when since his victory at the games seven years ago it is almost impossible to take even three steps without seeing his grinning face somewhere. On every screen and probably every free space big enough to put a poster on, she is haunted by the sight of him. His presence in the Capitol's television program is so immense that he might as well start sharing a flat with Caesar Flickerman.

God knows it's nothing new that people in the Capitol are pretty obsessed with the victors, but with Finnick a whole new level was reached. No other victor was as universally popular as he was, especially not for such a long time. Since then, there have been seven more games, seven new winners, but the Capitol's main attention continued to cling to the blond pretty boy from District 4.

She couldn't even define exactly what it was about him that bothered her so much. After all, she has spent her whole life in the Capitol and was used to endure the escapades of the Capitolites. She should be able to ignore it all, but something about him just always seems to rub her the wrong way.

It wasn't like that from the beginning. She remembers the 65th Hunger Games, and the first time she saw him very clearly. On the small flickering screen of the completely outdated television on the counter of the small restaurant where she was working at that time, her gaze had lingered on him during the opening ceremony. She hardly dares to say it now, but then she had felt something almost like admiration when she saw him on the carriage, confident and in a strange way sublime. She had been fascinated by him, for this boy was not even a year older than she was then, quite the opposite of most of the other tributes that year, most of whom were older than he was. Rhea knew the rough statistics, the average age of winners is 17, the youngest winner ever crowned was fifteen and a half at the time of his games. You could say the odds were clearly not in his favor, and yet he stood there with his head held high as if he had no doubts about his victory. But at that moment, nothing about him had seemed haughty or boastful, and she has to admit to herself that at 13 years old, she had wished him victory above all others.

But all that was a long time ago and the boy she admired so much back then no longer exists. He never came back from the arena. Instead, there is now this insufferable womanizer who seems to have made it his personal goal to explore the bed of every rich woman in the Capitol, or man for that matter, at least once. The whole Capitol seems to be at his feet and Rhea can almost no longer stand the infatuated gushing. It is unbelievable what she has had to listen to, because apparently the mere sight of him causes even people Rhea doesn't consider completely stupid, which includes very few individuals in the Capitol, to suddenly lose all control over their bodies and minds.

But she doesn't when he comes strolling into her office that evening. It's just after six o'clock and he's late, which upsets Rhea more than it should but she's had a hard and already far too long day. An exhausting evening followed by a far too short night, torn out of sleep by Snow's henchwoman, practically forced to agree to work as a private doctor for one of his precious victors, and to top it all off, the very man was supposed to introduce himself to her that same evening. Since she had gotten up, she had not had a real break. When she arrived at the office after her meeting with Snow, the usual drama of weekends at the Capitol was already waiting for her. All the stress was now making itself felt in her mood, and she prayed Finnick wouldn't make it harder than it needed to be. She just wanted to get this over with as quickly as possible and then the day would finally be over. She had just busied herself with some leftover paperwork when his voice suddenly startled her.

"Good evening my dear."

Her office door is always open when no patient is with her, so it's clear how he got in, but it's admittedly impressive how he managed to sneak up on her like that without even the slightest noise that would have alerted her to his presence. But she probably shouldn't be surprised, after all, he hadn't won the Hunger Games out of pure luck. At that moment, she can't help but think about whether the tributes felt the same way then as she does now, when Finnick Odair suddenly stood before them.