00. Victory Tour

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  DOVE STARED BLANKLY AT the plain white wall in front of her. Images of the games flashed in and out of her mind, the brutality she was capable of, and the blood of her best friend on her hands. Meanwhile, her face was being made presentable before her speech to District nine. "Chin up, dear," Her stylist, Mira, politely instructed. Dove did so silently and after a few more strokes of her brush, she was done. "There," Mira backed away, a smile on her face. "A masterpiece." 

"Great..." Dove rolled her eyes, moving to stand up. She stretched stiffly, having been in that chair for an hour. 

Her mentor, Sorrel, and her escort Dee made their way toward her. Dove tried her best, but unlike with the stylists, she couldn't hide her feelings from them. The pain and sadness were clear as day as her eyes began to water. "Hey, it's okay," Sorrel cooed as she wrapped an arm around Dove's shoulders, pulling her in tightly. "Only four more after this and then you're all done."

"What's the point?" Dove shook her head, looking away from her. "'I'm sorry I brutally murdered your tribute, now watch me spew some nonsense about the Capitol?'" She mocked. "They hate me. All of Panem does."

"That's not true," Dee spoke up. "The Capitol loves you. And what about the cheers you got from Districts one and two?"

"You mean the districts that are practically the Capitol?" Dove pulled herself out from under Sorrel's arm. "That meant nothing. When we get to my district and I have to explain why I killed my best friend, when I have to look his family in the eyes and tell them how much he meant to me, how do you think they're gonna respond? Not with cheers and claps, I'll tell you that much."

Dee crossed his arms over his chest and muttered something under his breath. Sorrel shook her head, a piece of her perfect blonde hair falling out of place. "Dove, you have to do this. You know what will happen if you refuse."

"What? Snow will kill me? There's nothing left to kill. My soul died that day with Reed, all that's left is a hunk of flesh," Her voice was scratchy and ruff as tears stung her brown eyes. 

Sorrel's face darkened and she lowered her voice. "Do you really have so little compassion for your siblings? Ivy and Heath are young, Dove. Too young for the Games and too young to be publicly executed by Peacemakers."

Dove's voice caught in her throat and her stomach dropped at the mention of her younger brother and sister. "He wouldn't..." Oh, but he would. President Snow was ruthless and cold and cutthroat. He feels no remorse for sending children into the arena, so what's public execution? Dove shook her head. "Let's just get this over with."

"That's the spirit!" Dee clapped his hands together. His perfectly manicured hands grabbed hold of her shoulders and turned her towards the door that separated her from almost the entirety of District nine. "Keep your head high, smile wide, and remember your speech!" He began to push her forward and Dove looked back over her shoulder at him nervously. 

"A-Already?" 

"There's no time to waste!" He insisted. 

And with one more nervous glance back at Sorrel, the doors opened and sunlight flooded in. Blinking, Dove stepped forward and Dee's hands released her shoulders. A few people clapped politely as she made her way toward the microphone. "Good day, District nine. It's good to see your faces," She began reciting the speech that Dee had written, trying her best not to sound robotic. "When I was a tribute in the Games, I thought I would die that first night. I was terrified, as was every other tribute. But I had my best friend...Reed," Her voice cracked as she mentioned his name. "He kept me grounded when I nearly lost my mind and we stayed together until the very end. We had to make a choice..."

Dove's throat suddenly became dry. She paused, her chest heaving. The crowd was mumbling, whispering to each other as they all stared. "I wanted to be the one. I wanted to die. Reed had his whole life ahead of him and I stole that. I can never forgive myself and no amount of money will ever change that. He should be the one standing here, not me. Thank you."

Quickly, Dove turned on her heel and practically ran off stage. She ignored Dee's ramblings about her going off-script and kept going, away from Sorrel, away from all of them. She pushed the back doors of whatever building they were in, grabbed hold of the stair railing and vomited onto the dusty ground below. She stayed there, forehead pressing against the cool iron railing, swaying. Exploiting her trauma for the pleasure of the Capitol literally made her sick to her stomach. How could she ever face District Ten with that bullshit speech?

A slow clap startled her. Shakily, she raised her head in the direction of the noise. At the bottom of the small staircase was a boy about her age with dark brown hair and fair skin. He had a lopsided smirk as he clapped for her. Dove narrowed her eyes. "What the hell do you want?"

"Nothing," The boy chuckled, his clapping ceasing as he leaned against the red brick outer wall of the building. "That was some speech. Powerful." 

Dove laughed bitterly, looking away from him to spit the remaining bile from her mouth, the flavour still tainting her tongue. "Thanks. I guess killing your best friend makes for good entertainment." 

"I didn't say entertaining," He corrected. "I said powerful. It's too bad you can't make a speech like that when you get to the Capitol."

"I'm sorry, but who are you?" Dove whipped around, her patience with him snapping. 

The boy chuckled once again and he bowed his head. "Andor Farberg. Last year's victor."

"Oh..." Dove's eyes widened and she felt a little silly. "Sorry."

"No, it's okay," Andor shrugged casually, pushing himself with his shoulder off of the wall and making his way up the stairs two steps at a time. When he reached Dove, he stuck his hand out. "I get what you're going through, so if you ever need a friend..."

Dove rose from the railing, still feeling weak from vomiting. She shook his callused hand and sighed. "Thanks. I'll keep that in mind."

  "This is the end of your victory tour, Dove, so remember to smile!" Dee held her hands tightly as they waited for Dove to be called on stage. "This interview must go well!"

Her stomach did a flip at the sound of a roaring crowd. "I can't go out there..."

Sorrel came up to her side. "Caesar is harmless. You have nothing to worry about."

"I have a lot to worry about," Dove countered nervously. 

"You've done this before, you'll be fine," Sorrel soothed. "Just go out there and be yourself. The Capitol loves you."

Dove sighed shakily, her eyes drifting to the sliver of the stage she could see. Caesar Flickerman was prancing about, laughing enthusiastically. She took note of his new hair colour, a bright red instead of the pastel purple it was before the games. He did his regular showboating before he called her name and the crowd went wild. 

"That's your cue," Dee nudged her forward. 

Dove tried the swallow down the lump in her throat as her feet began to move. The familiar feeling of nausea returned to her stomach as her shoes touched the stage and her eyes became blinded by the intense lights. More cheers and screams came from the audience. "Dove!" Caesar's voice demanded her attention. Her gaze snapped to him and she pulled down the mask, a wide and warm smile making its way onto her face. Her strides became more confident as she made her way toward the host and when they reached, they quickly embraced.

"It's lovely to see you, Caesar!" She said in her best sing-songy voice.

"Oh, and there's that smile!" He placed his hand over his heart and swooned dramatically. "Dove Mildfall, ladies and gentlemen!" Once again, the crowd cheered. "Come, come. Sit," Caesar softly took her hand and led Dove over to center stage where two velvet chairs were waiting. 

"Caesar, I am loving the new hair!" She complimented as she sat down. 

Once again, Caesar dramatically swooned in the chair across from her. "Such a sweetheart! I thank you, Dove," He leaned forward as if to whisper to her. "A little out of my comfort zone, if I do say so myself." He laughed hysterically at his own joke, as did the audience. 

Dove laughed softly along with him. "I'm sure!" 

And in classic Caesar fashion, he snapped back into his serious interview mode. "Now, Dove...tell us, how does it feel to have won the Hunger Games?"

Her stomach did a little flip as she answered. "Unreal..."

"I'm sure, I'm sure," Caesar nodded thoughtfully. "And may I be honest? Many here in the Capitol didn't think you would make it," His eyes watched her carefully. "In fact, many thought it would be Reed to be crowned the victor." 

Dove stiffened, her back straightening and her mouth dried. She nodded. "As did I." 

Caesar and the audience awed. "That must have been hard." He didn't elaborate. 

Dove's nausea returned full force and she nearly doubled over right there on the stage. "If I knew it was going to come down to that, I might've...taken my own life. Reed deserved to win, he deserved to be here. Not me."

The audience was stunned into silence. Ceasar tilted his head. "Aren't you grateful? You lived, others...weren't so lucky."

Grateful. The word replayed in Dove's mind. Her next words were meant to be in her head. "Grateful for what? Murdering my best friend because some rich bastard said so?"

A roar of anger soon followed her remark. The interview was over after that. Caesar shook his head sadly as she was removed from the stage by Dee and Mira. "What were you thinking?" Dee exploded. 

"Easy, Dee," Sorrel took Dove from his hands. "She had every right to say that."

"She will be executed!" Dee exclaimed, throwing his arms up in frustration. 

"Then so be it," Dove snapped at him. "I'm tired of being a puppet to the Capitol. I just want to go home..." Her voice cracked on the last word. 

Sorrel looked down at her softly. "We'll get you on the next train out of here, okay?" 

Dove nodded. "Okay..." 

When she returned home to District ten's Victor Village, her father, mother, and siblings were waiting. She didn't need any words to tell them how she was feeling. She simply fell into their arms and cried the tears she had been holding in since she killed Reed and they didn't stop. They never could because she would never run out of tears for taking the life of her best friend. 

AUTHORS NOTE
hehehehe this was fun to write. stay tuned for the next chapter!

(sign off gif by @tzar-of-torture)