Prim:
The fluorescent lights in this room start to flicker, bringing on a fiery headache that I think might kill me. Willow has finally stopped shaking and now sits slumped in her chair. Cato has one hand on her shoulder in an effort to comfort... which of them, I actually don't know; he could be using her for comfort or the other way around.
I am sitting, too. The weight of this day is just.. I don't know how much harder it could really get.
"Grandpa?" Willow whispers to herself, following up with a frown.
My panicked eyes lock with Cato. "Low," Cato starts with a sigh. I shake my head. Cato sure knows how to pick nicknames. Low for Willow, Kitten for me. I shudder. I will never not hate (but also endearingly love) that nickname.
"Look-"
"You called him 'Dad', you look just like him. And he said he was my Grandpa. I just met my grandfather."
"Yes, Willow, that was my dad."
"I just met my grandfather and he wants me dead. We've spoken for five minutes and he wants me dead. What did you do?" She's getting angrier, her tone accusatory.
"Just listen."
Willow jumps up, interrupting him. "No, Dad!" She swats his hand from her shoulder.
"Hey!" Cato steps back, stunted at the disrespect. "Don't you ever pull that shit again! What's your problem?"
Willow scoffs. "What's my problem?"
Cato brows go up in shock. "You better take it down a notch," Cato says to her lowly.
Willow crosses her arms in front of her. "Or what?" she says back. Holy...
Cato takes a step toward her, pointing his finger at her. "You have no fucking right to speak to me like this."
"I have every right! You have no right to tell me what to do right now."
Cato is seethingly mad. Willow is just as such. I move to stand between the two of them. We need to stick together.
"Willow Rose, I am your father. I have loved you, I have cared for you, I've given you my all! I'd never hold it against you, and you don't owe me a damn thing for doing that; it was my job, I signed up for it and I'd do it all over again for you. What's most important is that no matter what, I respected you, I treated you like a fucking human first. I was reasonable, I listened to you, I gave you way more freedom than I give your own mother."
I almost laugh, and then frown... and then smile. Cato being overbearing and protective never bothered me. It's the perfect kind of guy for the type of girl who is scared of the world.
"I've earned your fucking respect. So like I said, you have no fucking right."
"You don't have my respect, not anymore. You just lost it!" Willow scowls at him. Cato looks like he's been kicked in the chest. "Do you not have a clue how this could be affecting me or do you not care about how I feel? I turn 16 years old tomorrow! I was supposed to have a birthday party, a gift, a cake with candles. I got this."
Willow points her finger between the two of us. "You lied to me my whole life. You kept secrets; I asked you over and over and over again about my grandfather, and you brushed me off and told me lies, and now that man is here and has his hand directly in the pot that's going to kill me! I've asked you, mom, Uncle Charlie, Gram... all of you lied to me. So yes, you've lost my respect!" she cries at us.
"Willow," I start, but I don't know what to say. We did do those things. We lied to her and then we took her life away. We did.
She turns to me. "No, Mum, just stop. It's not fair! I'm going to die, I'm going to die because of you!"
"You're not going to die!" I cry. "You're not!" She cannot die. She won't die...
"Really?" she asks sarcastically. "Do you really think I'm going to survive against 22 blood thirsty killers? Do you really think I can win against 22 carbon copies of my own dad, Cato the Brute? Are we going to be that naïve?"
I look at her desperately. "Yes, I do!"
"Please," she laughs.
My thoughts scramble in my mind. I'm desperate for anything to get her to stop blaming us, even though we are to blame. I have to do something for her to forgive us. "We could run. We could just go, right now," I tell her. "Tell me what to do, Willow, and I'll do it. I'm here for you," I tell her. I'd do anything for you!
"I think you guys have already done enough," she says coldly, frowning at me.
Now I feel like I've been punched in the chest. She's ultimately wounded me.
"I'm sorry, Willow," I say. "I didn't know. If I did..." I trail off. What could I possibly say? I know I'd never be able to stop this.
"If you didn't know, then what? You'd never have had me?" she asks.
I'm insulted. "No! What? Willow, you're out of your mind!"
Willow rolls her eyes. "I'm not out of my mind. I could've just been Willow, your normal daughter living in one of the Districts with a normal life and a normal dad. Instead, I'm Panem's Angel. I'm not going to die as a District tribute. Instead, I'm going to die for the Capitol."
She doesn't give us a moment to respond. Willow turns and stalks toward the door, banging on it angrily.
"Willow." Cato says.
"Dad, please. I just want to go home." Her voice breaks at the end. "I want to sleep in my bed one last time."
I remember what that was like, just wanting to go sleep in my own bed, knowing that it would probably be one of the last times I did. I remember sleeping in the room on the 12th floor wishing I was back at home in my bed. I was so scared, confused, gripping onto what I thought were that last moments of my life. I don't need to imagine what she's feeling right now because I already know.
She's angry, she feels used, but she also feels useless.. because how could a country that claims to honor its people and love its children take her life away so quickly and move on like it was nothing?
Cato purses his lips, but nods once. "Okay," he says, "let's go home."
The door opens and we are met with a group of Peacekeepers. I almost forget that we are here because Willow attempted to kill our President. I won't be shocked if we are heavily guarded until Willow is in the arena. Two Peacekeepers flank us each as we walk one right after another from whatever building we were in. One is in front, guiding us out onto the street, and once we hit the streetlights, we are shoved to the curb.
It's dark, but I immediately recognize where we are. I turn to Cato, and he looks beaten down as he reaches for my hand. I take it shakily, wanting to just rewind time. Our time is running out. I don't want to spend the rest of my time here fighting with Willow or with him. We've already wasted so much time being angry.
Cato runs his thumb across my knuckles, looks at me with eyes filled with regret, and turns to pull me into a crushing hug. I hug him back just as hard, wanting to cry, but willing myself not to. He releases me and turns to Willow, who is facing away from us with her arms crossed.
Cato reaches his other hand out and grabs her arm. Willow snatches herself away again, turning to scowl once more, but Cato ignores it, grabbing her hand anyway. He grips it tight, ignoring her struggles to remove her hand from his, and drops their hands down to his side. She pouts up at him, but struggles no more.
After a beat, we turn around and start walking home silently. There are people on the street, but they don't seem to react to us at all. They all laugh, smile, talk animatedly, waving at cheering us on as we walk slowly.
I look at Cato puzzled. Willow just shot President Snow and no one is reacting at all? Almost everyone who lived in the Capitol was surely at the Parade this morning... what is happening?
"Cato, what-"
Cato shrugs, looking around bewilderedly. He is just as lost as I am. "I have no idea."
I keep a watchful eye on us as we take the five minute walk from Capitol Hall to our building. Willow keeps hold of her dad's hand, but makes sure to look anywhere but at us. I've never seen her so angry, so hurt before. I deserve the pitiful pangs that keep shooting through my heart.
We make it back to the Penthouse in one piece, opening the door to Effie, Haymitch, and Cinna sitting around the kitchen island. I'm shocked they are here.
As the door closes, Willow plucks her hand away from Cato. She stomps forward, ignoring everyone calling her name, and goes to her bedroom, making sure to slam the door loudly behind her.
Haymitch steps forward. "What's her problem?" he asks. He never sees anything but smiles and laughs from her.
Cato moves to the refrigerator, coming back with chilled bourbon and a glass for us all. Normally I would protest drinking; I just don't see the point, and I don't like being so sick after. I think the sick feeling has nothing on this.
"My dad... he's back." Cato pours us all a stiff drink. We all thank him, raise our glasses, though there's nothing to celebrate, and take a sip. It's warm and hits my senses in a flash. I already feel warmer, lighter.
Everyone gasps. I nod. "That's what I was trying to tell you at the parade, Effie. I'd seen him on the balcony when you got me."
Cato looks at me shocked. I nod and shrug. "I didn't have a chance to tell you before." He nods back.
"What did he want?" Cinna asks.
Cato shakes his head, taking a gulp of his drink.
"He's the new Head Gamemaker, and because of what Willow did, he's got a special edition of the Hunger Games planned for this year."
"Special edition? We only host special Games for the Quarter Quell!" Effie says.
"I know. But not this time around." I brief them on the return of the devil himself, on how they were explaining President Snow's sudden 'illness', Willow staying as a Tribute under the ruse to 'honor' her President, the Games that Willow and Jackson will be in, their fellow Tributes, and the ultimatum: if she dies, we all do. They listen closely, but their expressions are ones of pure horror.
Once I finish, we all take a moment and down our drinks. Cato makes haste to refill them. We need to drink.
"So her grandfather has essentially just signed her death certificate," Haymitch resolves. "There's no way they will let her live. Even if she kills every single one of those Careers, she will never be the victor."
Cato sighs. He knows it's the truth. We all do.
"What do we do?" Effie asks.
I shake my head. I have no idea what we should do. I want to run... but I know that's not possible either. We wouldn't get far. No one does.
"We have to take them down, once and for all. We have to take down President Snow."
"Willow already tried that, Cato," I say, turning to him. "And there's no way we will be able to get to him to even try. They're probably watching us now."
"They're not watching us. I have this place secured like a fortress, it's one of the many benefits of being Gamemaker to a bunch of nerdy, but incredibly skilled technologists."
"Okay, but still, we won't get anywhere. We can't get to Snow."
"We may not even need to. There's been whispers of a rebellion in the districts. It's been in the making for years, but they've had trouble gaining support from some districts. I'd been thinking about this all night. If we leaked the truth about what's happening, it may be just enough to rally everyone up."
I'm stunned to hear of this. Cato has never talked about an uprising or of overthrowing our President before recently.
Haymitch seems to be mulling the idea over in his head. "How would we get them here?" he asks.
Cato shrugs. "We'd have to figure out how to mobilize them, how we could get a task force or something to work."
"I may know of something," Cinna speaks up. We all turn to look at him surprised.
"You?" Effie asks him. "What do you know?"
He looks between us all, almost guiltily, but more so afraid. His eyes linger on Cato. "This place is a fortress?" Cato nods, looking concerned. "You're sure?"
"On my honor," Cato says. I recognize the saying as something he's learned from District 2. It means you can trust him more than anything. Apparently it's only said between men.
Cinna nods, and then sighs. "You know how everyone believed that after the rebellion, District 13 was burned to the ground?" We all nod. "Well, that may not be so true."
My mouth drops open. "Cinna, are you actually alleging that District 13 still exists? I've seen the footage of the rubble."
"It exists. On my honor," he says, looking at Cato. "I've been. They have the ability, they just needed the means. Willow, as the face of the revolution, that angel in that room.. She's exactly what we've needed all along."
"District 13?" Effie places a hand on her heart.
Haymitch finishes his second glass. Cato does as well and hurriedly refills their glasses so that they can throw those back as well. I stare at Cato in bewilderment. He's gonna be drunk tonight.
I take another sip, too. My world is constantly being turned upside down.
"Cinna, can you work your contacts and get something to them? I have something I could give you that could work."
Cinna nods. If not for the warmth spreading through me from the bourbon, I'd shiver. This is scary... what we are talking about. We could be hung in the Square for this back home. This could mean something terrible for us all.
"We can talk more about this tomorrow. Right now, I want to drink, be with you guys, and pretend that life is okay and that my daughter doesn't fucking hate me." Cato raises his glass with a chuckle, but I don't miss the absolutely destructed look in his eyes.
We all take another drink and pretend that everything is okay, and that our daughter doesn't fucking hate us.
—
Hello everyone, happy March! As I'm sure you're all hopeless romantics like me, I hope that you had a lovely Valentine's Day, whether you celebrated or not!
I'll see you soon! Keep an eye out for the bonus scenes, and check out the Prato playlist that I made, linked as my website on my profile.
Yours, lovingly,
M x