Finnick slumped into his seat in the mentor's section with a sigh. Haymitch looked over at him and laughed.
"Long day?" he asked, and Finnick rubbed a hand over his face.
"You could say that," he groaned and sat up.
"What are your odds?" Haymitch asked. Cashmere grinned as she poked her head between the two of them.
"Mine are pretty good. Both eighteen. Both top of their class. Both lethal," she bragged.
"Mine are a fan of me, so you know they at least have taste," Enobaria said. Finnick groaned. He didn't feel like playing this game today.
"What about you, Odair?" Gloss asked, hopping in on the conversation.
"He's my friend," Finnick said. The other victors fell silent.
"Oh, Finnick," Cashmere sighed, placing her hand on his shoulder. "I'm so sorry."
Ezra plopped down and rubbed his eyes.
"Does it ever get better?" he asked.
"No," they all said together. Ezra glanced over at Finnick.
"Are you okay?" he asked curiously.
"He's friends with his tribute," Haymitch said. Ezra winced.
"I'm so sorry," he said. Finnick rubbed his hands over his face.
"There's nothing I can do about it except mentor him as hard as I can."
"So does that mean no midnight rendezvous with Miss White?" Cashmere smirked. Finnick's head snapped to attention as she giggled. Haymitch raised a brow and turned to Finnick.
"I would also like to know the answer to that," he said.
"Or," Ezra added on, trying to suppress a grin. "Will you be exploiting that relationship?"
"Adrien is meeting Amara because they want to meet each other."
"Talk about her that much?" Enobaria asked.
"She's my friend," Finnick said nonchalantly. "Of course I've mentioned them to one another."
"Just friends?" Haymitch asked.
"Of course," he insisted, but none of them seemed to believe them. "Amara is great, but she's still part of the Capitol."
That seemed to dull the mood.
"So why hang out with her at all? Since she's your enemy?" Enobaria asked.
"She's not my enemy," Finnick snapped. "She just doesn't know any better."
"And you're going to burst that bubble? Get a socialite to side with the districts?" Ezra asked, and everyone shushed him.
"Careful, kid," Cashmere snarled. "Talk like that sounds rebellious, and is a fast way to get you killed."
Enobaria glanced around before nodding to confirm no one was listening.
"Besides," Finnick interrupted the conversation. "I've already been warned off that particular task."
Haymitch and Cashmere glanced at each other cautiously, but everyone's attention was already on the podium where Amara had just made her entrance.
As she started singing, Ezra peaked at Finnick. He was completely transfixed on Amara. It was clear he felt a strong bond for the girl, whether it was a friendship or otherwise.
**
"Training starts tomorrow," Mags said as they all got into the elevator. "Learning how to fight is good, but it's important to focus on the survival elements too."
"Since you've both been training in the academy for years, it is more important to use the time to assess the other tributes," Finnick added.
"Most of what the academy teaches you is all about fighting," she said.
"You want to make yourself invaluable so make sure to fill in on the other tributes' weaknesses. Be the tribute that knows how to track, what berries are poisonous, how to light a fire, or anything else that most people won't know how to do," Finnick said.
Corinne and Adrien glanced at each other as the doors to their floor opened.
"Do you guys always talk like that?" he asked.
"You get used to it," a voice echoed from inside the apartment. They all stepped inside to see Amara standing behind the kitchen counter with a plate of brownies in her hand. Her hair was wet and loosely framing her face, which was free of makeup, and she was wearing comfy clothes. She looked completely at home.
Corinne's jaw dropped. Mags quickly walked over to her and gave her a kiss on the cheek.
"When did you have time to make this?" she asked, taking a whiff of the blanket.
"Y-you..." Corinne lost the ability to speak.
"I booked it here after I went backstage," Amara said. Finnick walked over and pulled her into a tight hug.
"You are incredible," he said. He took a spoon and scooped out a brownie. Mags gasped and hit him with the spatula she had grabbed.
"What is wrong with you?" she asked.
"That is not the right way to eat a brownie," Amara chastised, but Finnick just grinned and ate his spoon before digging in again. Both Mags and Amara groaned and turned away from him.
"You're Amara White," Corinne finally managed to squeak out. It was like they all forgot the tributes were standing there.
"Amara White?" Adrien asked, glancing over at Finnick. A large smirk was slowly spreading across his face and making Finnick increasingly nervous. "This is the girl you're always going on about?"
Amara whipped around to look at him.
"Are you, now?" she copied Adrien's smirk. Finnick was quickly turning red.
"You know I talk about you," he said. "I talk about you to each other all the time."
"Yes but apparently you 'go on about me.' Tell me, Adrien, what does he say? Does he talk about my charm and my beauty."
"He has mentioned how pretty you are," Adrien said. Amara gasped and looked at Finnick, who turning increasingly more red.
"And that's enough of that," he said, putting his sink down. "You two have training in the morning. Go to bed."
"But Amara White is standing in our kitchen," Corinne said. Amara glanced at her as if she was seeing her for the first time.
"Hello, Corinne," she said sweetly. Corinne looked like she might faint from Amara's stare.
"It is an honor to meet you," Corinne said. "I am such a big fan of your music."
Corinne started babbling about Amara's latest album, but Finnick just zoned in on Amara's face, admiring the way she lit up when she was talking about her music. Adrien was staring at Finnick, wondering if his friend knew he was falling in love with the woman in front of him. It seemed to be painfully obvious to everyone except each other how the two really felt.
They were both cut out of their thoughts when Amara's voice cut through.
"So you'll join me for dinner tomorrow night?" she asked. Corinne looked like she was going to pass out.
"I'm down," Adrien jumped in. "Especially because I have a competition to win."
Finnick groaned. "You're not winning."
"I so am," Adrien smirked. "Annie and I have been perfecting our necklace for months."
"You've been working with Annie?" Finnick gasps, outraged. "That's cheating."
"You started cheating the moment you started designing a necklace specifically for her tastes. It sways the judge."
Corinne and Mags glanced over to see Amara laughing silently. She was trying so hard to hold it back, and seemed to be failing miserably.
"What is going on?" Corinne asked.
"They're having a competition about who can make the best glass jewelry," Amara explained. "They wanted an impartial judge, and for some reason chose me."
"I didn't realize you and Finnick were so close," Corinne said, surprised. Amara looked over at Finnick and Adrien who were still bickering like children.
"He's my best friend," she said. It was clear that Finnick meant a lot to her, but for some reason, there was a flicker of pain when she said it.
"How do you make that friendship work?" Corinne asked curiously, assuming the distance made their relationship difficult. "I mean, you're here and he's in the districts."
"Letters," Mags said, popping over and handing both of them a brownie. "I deliver at least three letters a week to that boy's room."
Amara raised an eyebrow. "Does he now? We usually write once a month. Finnick!" she called out, getting his attention. "What are these letters I'm hearing about?"
Finnick had the decency to at least turn pink, causing Mags to laugh at his embarrassment.
"He has a lot of admirers," Adrien said, and Finnick whacked him on the back of the head. Amara felt the sudden need to hit something. She didn't want Finnick to have admirers.
"To answer your question from earlier, Amara, we would love to join you for dinner tomorrow." Mags said. "However, I need to get these tributes to bed."
"What?" Adrien pouted. "But I barely got to talk to Amara."
"You can see her tomorrow," Mags said as she dragged the two tributes to their rooms like they were petulant children. She gave Finnick a knowing look, and he went even more red if possible. Amara just laughed.
"C'mon," Finnick said, leading her out of the apartment. "I'll walk you home."
As they got into the elevator, Amara's smiled slowly dropped from her face.
"So I want to hear all about these dates you've been going on--" Finnick started.
"Why didn't you come see me while you were here?" she asked. Finnick glanced down at her, only then noticing how the casual smile she had in the apartment had been replaced with a look of betrayal.
"I tried," he said. Amara stared at him, waiting for him to say more. He didn't.
"And yet I never saw you," she pointed out, fighting the urge to glare at him. All she managed was a tight smile.
"I never knew when Snow would summon me so I could never give you a heads up."
"Not a good excuse," she said in a teasing tone as the exited the elevator. There were a few stragglers in the lobby, including Haymitch. He was leaning against a short woman with ridiculously large hair. The poor woman seemed to be doing everything in her power to hold up the man as she talked to the receptionist.
"Effie?" Amara asked. The woman craned her neck to see them, unable to turn around with the weight of Haymitch on top of her. She sighed in relief when she saw the two of them.
"Amara!" The woman, Effie, crowed. Finnick had never met the woman, but she looked vaguely familiar, and seeing as she was currently lifting up Haymitch, she must have been the District Twelve escort. No one else would put up with hauling him around. Despite that, he still jogged over and helped adjust Haymitch so he was wearing the brunt of his weight. "Thank you," Effie said with a light blush.
"What happened?" Amara asked, leaning in to kiss the woman on both cheeks.
"Nothing needs to happen for Haymitch to be in this state," Effie sighed dramatically. Finnick adjusted Haymitch's weight again.
"I'm going to take him up to his room," he announced.
"Oh, thank you, Finnick," Effie said. Haymitch let out an undignified groan.
"C'mon," Finnick muttered before lugging his dead-weight body back to the elevator.
Amara turned back to Effie to see the woman smiling dangerously.
"So where are you and Finnick off to tonight?" she asked with a sly smirk that did not go unnoticed by Amara.
"You know we're just friends," she said. "He's just walking me back to my place."
"The new one I haven't seen yet?" Effie gasped. "Consider me jealous. We need to have a girls night and catch up on everything going on. What are you doing during the games? We can watch together."
Amara hesitated, and Effie raised one of her pink brows.
"Finnick and I watch it together. It's a bit of a tradition."
She wondered if that was still the case this year.
Effie hummed. "And you're sure you're just friends?" she asked.
"Yes," Amara assured her, even if she was spending most of her brain capacity assuring herself. "After all, haven't you been paying attention? Finnick is happily dating anyone he can get his hands on."
Effie frowned at the clip in the girl's tone.
"But not you," she said, realizing why she was feeling awkward.
"He doesn't seem to have much time for me," Amara smiled sadly. Amara wasn't sure what about Effie made her feel comfortable enough to spill her guts like she was currently doing. Maybe she was just tired, or maybe there was something about seeing Effie and Haymitch that made her realize Effie would understand the life of a victor a little more than the others.
Effie's heart hurt for the girl. It was true that in the last year, Finnick had been making more and more trips to the Capitol, and had earned quite the reputation for being a ladies' man.
"He's my friend," she reminded both herself and Effie.
"Yes, but you're Amara White," Effie said. "If anyone can help him refocus his priorities, it would be you."
"I don't want to help him refocus his priorities," Amara said. "I want him to value me without me pressuring him too."
Amara thought back to the conversation in the elevator, how he kept saying that it was Snow that summoned him, but that couldn't possibly be the case. He was going to all these fancy events. Clearly he had the time to come meet her. He just didn't use it.
And yes, she knew that one of the many times he was in town, he tried to come see her. It wasn't his fault that she wasn't home that night, but according to the tabloids, he was here once a month since the last games. Surely he could have found a way to tell her he was around.
Amara also found it odd that Finnick never mentioned what happened when he was in town in any of his letters. He talked about Adrien and Annie, going fishing with Mags, and did mention when he would go to the Capitol, but he never mentioned anything about his time here.
It seemed that she was able to find out more about his life from the tabloids and Caesar than anything else.
The Capitol was falling in love with Finnick. His charm, his flirty nature, his stunning smile. But it seemed the more they fell in love with him, the less she really knew.
"How are you feeling about Twelve this year?" Amara asked when Effie didn't respond to her admittedly desperate sounding statement. Effie sighed dramatically.
"I wish I could be transferred to any other district. I want tributes with grit! I need some excitement in my life. Heaven forbid someone actually smile in that horrible place. I would love to see a volunteer, but we all know that will never happen"
"Has Twelve ever had a volunteer?" Amara asked, and Effie shook her head, sighing.
"No," she said. "And I'm hoping they move me to another district before they do. I am done putting up with those depressing faces every year. Not to mention, I have to deal with Haymitch."
"I thought you liked him," Amara asked. Effie shrugged.
"I like him enough when he's sober."
"And how often is that?"
"Rarely ever," Finnick butted in. They watched as the doors to the elevator closed behind him. "And I don't believe I've had the honor," Finnick said, turning to Effie and holding out a hand.
"Effie Trinket. I'm the escort for District Twelve."
"Finnick Odair," he said, smirking as he inclined his head to kiss the back of her hand. Despite her best efforts, Effie went red. "Would you mind terribly if I stole Miss White?"
"N-not at all," Effie stuttered. Finnick grinned and winked at the woman.
"I'm looking forward to seeing you again, Effie," he said. Amara had to smother her desire to strangle him as Finnick held out his arm. Effie turned away before quickly walking toward the elevator, fanning herself as she walked.
When Finnick turned back around, Amara was gone, and the door to the building was closing behind her. Finnick ran after her, skirting around the building just when he caught a glimpse of her hand just as she turned the corner.
"Amara!" he called out, but she only picked up her pace. He had to jog to keep up with her. She only made it a block before he grabbed her hand. She faltered for a moment before yanking it away.
"What?" she snapped, whirling around to face him. He jerked back, surprised by her sudden outburst.
"What just happened?" he asked.
"I don't understand you," she said bluntly. Finnick felt completely lost. One moment, everything seemed to be fine between them, and the next, she was suddenly mad at him. What happened?
She was able to pretend that everything was fine when they were standing in his apartment together. She was hoping that everything would go back to exactly as it was. Being pen-pals with someone could be tricky.
But seeing him flirt with Effie...
The painful part was that he didn't even realize the effect he had on her. He didn't realize that he seemed to be prioritizing everyone but her. It was like he was two totally different people. Last time he was here, he told her he wanted her to be real, but he didn't even have the decency to do the same.
"That makes two of us," he said.
"Why didn't you come see me?" she asked, feeling a lump rise in her throat.
"I-I told you," Finnick said, suddenly realizing this was something very important. Hopefully he hadn't screwed it up already. "I never knew when Snow would summon me."
Amara scoffed, running her hand through her still wet hair and down her face.
"That's not good enough," she said. "You think I haven't seen the tabloids or seen what is being said about you?"
Finnick didn't even realize he was gaining that kind of public attention.
"I don't even know what's being said about me," he admitted. He didn't want to know.
"You say you're here to see Snow, but all I do is see these pictures of you at these grand parties. You have women begging for your attention. And I don't want to be one of them."
"What are you talking about?" Finnick asked. "Of course you're not."
"Really? Because it seems like I am. You had every opportunity to reach out while you were here. You were at countless parties. There were so many ways you could get in contact with me, but you never did. You're my best friend, Finnick, so why do I feel like one of your fans? I've learned more about your last year than from Caesar. And you stopped responding to my last letters. I sent four in a row with no response."
Finnick's mind went blank as she continued to ramble. He wanted to tell her everything. She was asking him to. She was asking him to be real with her, but how could he when he couldn't tell her. He had no way of telling her. Snow had given him explicit instructions that if she found out about their arrangement- or anyone- that she would be pulled into it.
He didn't know there would be so much publicity around his Capitol activities, but how could he explain that he was told he had to attend these parties to keep up a public persona that would feed the image Snow wanted?
How was he supposed to explain the parties and the women? Here was one of the few people that meant everything to him, and she felt completely betrayed.
And he couldn't tell her.
He wanted to. Oh, how he wanted to. He wanted to tell her about the late nights, about the horrors that he's had to endure over the last year, how he's woken up in the middle of the night by horrible dreams that cause him to throw up in horror. He wanted to talk about how he was being used and abused, but he couldn't.
He had to protect her.
How was he supposed to explain it all?
"I didn't..." Finnick trailed off. "I'm sorry."
Amara frowned and leaned forward like she was expecting more.
"That's it?" she finally asked. Finnick's mind was racing. He had to say something. Anything.
He was going to lose her if he didn't. Say something.
"I wanted to," he said. But he hated what he had to do while he was here. He didn't want to taint his memories with her because of the memories of what else happened on these trips.
"Last year, you told me that you could tell there were things I was holding back. You told me you wanted something real. The problem is, I don't know if you recognize real anymore because I can't tell who the real Finnick is."
"What are you talking about?" Finnick asked, taking a few steps closer to her. He wanted to tell her everything. "I'm me. I've always been me."
"No," Amara shook her head. "There's the fun, easy-going person that I consider to be my best friend, and there's the Capitol flirt that can't stop partying and doesn't deem me important enough to prioritize. So which one are you?"
"I'm yours," Finnick whispered. "I've always been yours."
She pursed her lips and looked him up and down.
"I don't believe you," she said quietly. She took a few steps back until she was too far out of his reach for him to grab her hand again. "Don't worry about dinner tomorrow. I'm not interested in a friendship where you hide who you are and what you want. I'm a very busy woman and I don't have time for people who don't have time for me. I would have canceled concerts for you, Finnick, and you won't bother to send me a note telling me when you're in town."
"Amara--" but she shook her had and backed away from him.
"I won't be your backup plan, Finnick."