To everyone reading, Take Care and Stay Safe! ~CANGEL

***

District 4

Finnick Odair

     Finnick Odair swam deeper, the cold embrace of the ocean pulling him into its silent depths. With the heat of the sun shining down from above, the water enveloped him like a cocoon, offering a strange comfort. He could feel the weightlessness of his body, the salt seeping into his skin, the familiar push and pull of the current.

     His lungs burned, but he lingered beneath the surface, watching the fractured sunlight dance in the water above him. A myriad of fish swam above him, dancing and swirling, circling and darting around. But even with the activity and the presence of so many creatures surrounding him—the soundless underwater world offered a quiet Finnick couldn't find anywhere else.

     Under the surface of the ocean, there were no eyes watching him. No Capitol whispers and stares, no reminders of the Games waiting to pull him back into their reaching fingers. Only in this place, was Finnick allowed to remain in the background. An observer, rather than being the subject observed.

     Being a Victor felt like swimming with an anchor attached to him. What was once effortless, was now tiring. It tugged at him constantly, dragging him back to the surface, to the world of air and noise and duty. There was a part of him, though, that wondered what would happen if he stayed under—if he let the weight pull him deeper, away from the endless cycles of pleasing his Capitol fans, of mentoring tributes, and witnessing all the death.

     It would be so easy. To let go.

     But Finnick's heart thrummed beneath his skin, echoing loudly in the water around him, his lungs burned in real desperation now, and the temptation to stay under passed. With a powerful kick, he propelled himself upward, breaking through the surface with a gasp as he filled his lungs with much needed oxygen. The sound of the crashing waves greeted him, the sky stretched endlessly above, the familiar weight of the world settling back on his shoulders.

     As he swam toward the rocky shore, cutting through the waves and letting them crest over him, he could see his friend, Annie Cresta, sitting on the familiar outcrop, her legs dangling over the edge, eyes squinting against the bright sun as she scanned the water. She waved when her eyes found him, a wide, genuine smile that was impossible not to return.

     Climbing out of the water, Finnick shook off the briny cold water, running a hand through his wet hair as he climbed the rocky hill and joined Annie on the ledge, sitting beside her.

     "Thought you'd disappeared," she teased, her voice light, though the concern behind her words wasn't lost on him.

     "Almost did." He shrugged off her concern with a chuckle, though a part of him ached at how much he hid from her.

     She didn't ask him what he meant. She never did. Annie had always been that way—simple in the best sense of the word. She was the one constant in his life—the only thing that had remained the same—even when everything else had. Becoming a tribute, the Victor's crown, his mother's death, the Capitol's incessant demands...everything in his life had shifted, but Annie was still the same girl who'd grown up alongside him in the house next door. Even if they no longer lived next door to each other, she had never changed.

     They sat in companionable silence, under the heat of the slowly setting sun, the only sound around them was the seagulls overhead and the steady crash of the waves against the rocks below them. Annie fidgeted with the hem of her dress, her soft brown hair blowing in the wind. She never could sit still for long.

    Finnick glanced at her, wondering, not for the first time, what his life would have been like if things had been different. He could have liked her—in another life, before the Capitol's games twisted everything. But now, the gap was too wide. His life was full of lies, compromises, and buried truths. Hers was still untouched by all that darkness.

     Annie was simple, sweet, and tender-hearted. No Capitol games, no pretenses or hidden agendas. Just a girl from District 4.

     His life now—controlled by the Capitol's whims and unspoken demands would ruin her. The broken bits of himself, hidden beneath his charming smile, would be too much. No.

     Finnick took her hand in his, feeling its softness, so delicate and small, opposite of his. He raised her hand, cupped in his, and brought it to his lips. He kissed the back of her hand tenderly, before letting go.

     Annie was his friend. One he treasured too much to attempt to change. One he couldn't afford to lose.

     "Do you remember the first time we came here?" Finnick asked suddenly, eager to break the heavy silence between them.

     Annie turned toward him, her face breaking out into an easy smile. "Of course I do!" She laughed heartily. "You were so bossy back then!"

     He joined her with a laugh of his own. "You loved me back then."

     "Still do, Finn."

     "I know." He said quietly, looping his arm around her neck and pulling her close. His lips brushed her temple as they both looked out at the sea, on fire with the setting sun. "I know, Annie."

***

The Past

     The sun was high in the sky, casting a warm, golden glow over District 4. The salty sea breeze carried the scent of freshly caught fish, blending with sweet aroma of baked goods from the nearby stalls. Finnick ran ahead through the busy marketplace, his laughter filling the air as he dodged between vendors, his hand tightly clutching Annie's.

     "Hurry up, Annie!" Finnick shouted, just narrowly pulling her around a group of marketgoers, before she collided with them. "You're so slow!" He teased, glancing back at the five-year-old trailing just behind him, her soft brown hair bouncing as she ran, her green eyes were wide with excitement, bright against her reddened skin.

     "I'm not slow!" Annie protested, giggling as she tried to keep pace with him, her small legs working twice as hard to match his speed. With a roll of his eyes, Finnick slowed down, pulling her to a stop. She bent down, hands on her knees as she struggled to catch her breath.

     "If you want to keep coming with us to the Market, then you better learn to keep up!" Finnick scolded her, emphasizing his words with his arms crossed over his chest. "Otherwise, you're going to have to be back by the toddler."

     It was the same thing he said anytime Annie couldn't keep up. She used to go crying to his Mom, but now, Annie just stuck her tongue out at him.

     "Stay close, you two!" Finnick heard his mom call out from behind them. "I'm not chasing either of you through the fish market again."

    He turned around to grin at his mother, who was walking several paces behind them carrying a woven basket with a few goods inside and holding Rio's chubby toddler fingers as he stumbled by her legs. His smile was bright and full of mischief. "Don't worry, Mom, we're right here!"

     Finnick pulled Annie toward a colorful stall where brightly painted seashell trinkets and polished stones were on display.

     Annie's eyes lit up, her fingers brushing over a delicate shell necklace. "Look how pretty it is, Finn!" she exclaimed, her voice filled with wonder.

     Finnick leaned in, examining the necklace with a thoughtful expression far beyond his years, though to him, the necklace was only slightly more interesting than a bucket full of sand. "You should get it," he said, his tone serious. "That one matches your eyes." He pointed to the center shell, tinged green in color.

     Annie giggled, blushing slightly, as she shook her head. "I don't have money for something like that." Finnick felt his eyes narrow in distaste. Money. Why did everything have to cost so much? 

     His mother, Pearl, now standing behind him, knelt down to their level and ruffled Finnick's damp locks with a chuckle. "It's beautiful, isn't it?" She asked softly, her gaze tender as she looked at them. Finnick felt her warmth, as heated as the sun, wash over him. "Maybe one day we'll make our own seashell necklaces."

     Annie's face lit up at the thought, her smile wide. "Really?" Finnick, though, wasn't impressed.

     "Of course," Pearl replied, her voice gentle and warm. "The sea gives us everything we need." Her eyes shifted from Annie to Finnick, noting his grumpy scowl. She gave him a tight squeezing hug which he begrudgingly returned, never able to refuse.

     As she pulled away, grabbing Rio's hand, stopping him from wandering away, she winked at Annie. "You know, the best shells are found deep under the water...I wonder if you know anyone who could get them for us..."

     Annie's eyes turned instantly to Finnick. "Finnick? Would you?"

     His chest puffed up with pride as his hand shot straight up in the air. "I can do it! Mom, I can do it!"

     Pearl laughed as she stood, her hand brushing his hair from his face. "I bet you just could, Finnick."

     His mom passed the vendor a coin, even though they left with nothing from their stand. That was his mother though, passing kindness to everyone around them.

     Finnick took the weaved basket from his mom's hand and took her hand in his, skipping at her side, tugging at her when his pace outmatched her slow one. Annie copied him, as she always did, sending them nearly colliding with many of the people passing in the opposite direction. Finnick and Annie laughed each time, while Pearl lightly chided them, trying to keep herself upright while holding onto a toddler with her other arm.

     "You know what mom?" Finnick asked a little bit later. His legs were a little sore by now, and he couldn't wait to leave the Market.

     "What Finnick?"

     "I'm going to catch the biggest fish today!" He declared, his green eyes sparkling with determination. "And then we'll have a feast!"

     His mother laughed, a light, melodic sound that made everything feel even more perfect. Her brown hair was pulled back into a braid, little whisps framing her face, blew in the breeze. "How about we start with some fresh bread and honey first?" she suggested, pointing toward a bakery stall just a few steps away. "No one can go fishing on an empty stomach—and I have the best place we can go fishing afterwards." She said the last bit as a whisper, a secret that pulled Finnick closer.

    But the prospect of sweet honey bread had both children running again, giggling as they darted between the market-goers, eagerly making their way to the stand.

     At the bakery stall, the vendor—a kindly older man with graying hair and dark weathered skin—greeted them with a grin. "Finnick! Annie! Where's Pear—Oh there you are!" He said as she finally caught up. "Oh, and little Rio too." The older man gave a raised brow look to Finnick's mother, "Quite a handful you've got this week." He chuckled, his voice booming with familiarity. "I've got something special for you all today." He handed over two small loaves of warm bread, each drizzled with golden honey to Annie and Finnick, and one more to Pearl, to share with little Rio.

     Finnick's eyes widened in delight as he eagerly accepted the offering. "Thanks, Mr. Bartley!"

    Annie took the bread carefully, her small hands sticky with honey almost instantly. She bit into it with a satisfied hum, honey dripping down her chin. "It's so good," she mumbled, barely stopping to chew. "Thank you." 

     Finnick, equally messy but just as pleased, laughed at the sight of her. "You've got honey everywhere!" He teased, but then both of them laughed, when they caught sight of Rio, who had his honey bread squeezed in his fist, pressed against his mouth with half the bread on the ground by his feet.

     After an exchange of coin, and another thanks, they wandered away, too occupied with their treat to run and dash away.

     Finnick's mom wiped away the sticky remnants from their chins with a cloth she had tucked into her basket—probably for this very purpose. "You two are a pair of troublemakers," she said in mock exasperation. "Come on, you too, let me show you my favorite place."

      The four of them wandered away from the busy marketplace, finding a quiet spot where they could watch the boats bob in the harbor at a distance. A rocky outcropping that hung high above the crashing waves below. Finnick leaned against his mother's side, his sticky fingers still clutching the last of his bread. Rio sat in his mother's lap, reaching for Finnick's bread, which he kept just out of reach. Annie sat cross-legged beside him, her eyes wide, staring out at the sea.

     "I like it here," Annie said quietly, her voice carrying a soft, wistful tone. "It's peaceful."

     Finnick felt his mother's arm wrap around his shoulder, pulling him close. "It is." She agreed, her voice just as soft. "And it always will be."

     He looked up at his mother, the warmth of her presence grounding him in a way nothing else could. He felt safe, happy—His honey bread ripped from his fingers, pulling Finnick's attention.

     "Rio!" He shouted angrily, snatching his rare treat back. "You already ate yours. This is mine!"

     "Mine!" Rio screamed in response. Then he started crying, his chucky hands stretched out, reaching toward Finnick's bread with thick tears tracking through the dirt and snot earned with a hard days work of walking through the Market.

     "Hey, now." His mother tried to calm Rio. "You can't just take, Rio. That's not fair." She shot Finnick a side-eye. "And you shouldn't yell, Finnick."

     Finnick rolled his eyes, looking at the bread in his hand, all mushed up by his brother's slobbery little fingers. With a deep sigh, he hands his bread back to Rio, who took it without hesitation.

     "Next time," he said, looking at his brother with complete distaste. "Next time let's leave Rio at home."

     Laughter filled the air around him, and soon he was laughing too, his anger dissipating just like that.

     The salty breeze carried the scent of the sea, mingling with the sweet honey on Finnick's lips. The rhythmic crashing of the waves below made everything else feel distant, like they were the only ones in the world.

***

Present

     As Finnick sat on the rocky outcrop, watching the waves crash below, he was struck by how little had changed here over the years. The same salty breeze, the same rhythmic pulse of the ocean. It was almost like time stood still in this one place. And, for a moment, it felt as though his mother was just behind him, laughing, guiding them to her favorite spot.

     Of course his mother wasn't there with us, and it had been many years since that peaceful day in the Market Place. Though that was the only time his mother had taken him there, it remained one of Finnick's most treasured places. A place where he went—sometimes alone, sometimes with Annie—when he wanted a quiet place to think or a place to feel close to his mother.

     After a long silence between them, Annie's soft voice broke through. "Two weeks..."

     Finnick's chest tightened at the words. Two weeks until the Reaping took place. Until the next Hunger Games was upon them. Two weeks until he had to watch another set of tributes, in all likelihood, die.

     But with the upcoming Reaping, it wasn't just the past tributes—and his past failures—that haunted him—it was dread that that sat in a pit of his stomach each and every year since his name had been called. Annie's name would be in that glass bowl, as it had been for the last 2 years. And this year, Rio's would be too. His brother's first time.

     "I know," Finnick muttered, his voice hoarse with the weight of it all. "I know."

     Annie hesitated, her eyes on the horizon, her fidgeting fingers tangled in a lock of her hair drawing his attention. "You don't think...Do you think either of us will be picked?" Her voice was soft, but the fear laced in it was unmistakable.

     His heart lurched against his chest. Images of past games ran through his head, the dead tributes from District 4 replaced with images of Annie and Rio...He shook his head, forcing the images away. "No," he said, his voice rougher than he had intended. "You're not going to be picked, Annie. And neither is Rio."

     "She gave a weak smile, but it didn't reach her eyes. "It's my third year in the Reaping, Finn...Rio's first..." Her voice trembled at his brother's name, and Finnick could tell she was trying to be brave for him. For herself. "I know I've been lucky so far, but luck runs out...You were reaped in your second year..."

     Her voice trailed off, and Finnick stiffened next to her. Yes, he had been reaped during his second year. His name had only been two, in millions of names in that bowl. He had shit luck that day. But if Annie could try to be brave for him, then he could be brave for her.

     "Annie, you know what happened to me was once in a lifetime. It's a chance of three out of millions. And Rio's chances are even fewer. You know how many kids have their names entered more than you?" Finnick's voice was steady—positive even—but felt hollow to his ears. Every parent reassured their child of the same things—Finnick's mother had said the same words to him the night before each Reaping—but each year they all witnessed another child being ripped away from their family. It didn't matter how low the odds were, anyone's name could be called.

     But his words seemed to comfort Annie, calming most of her worries away, but still some uncertainty lingered. She hugged her knees to her chest, staring out at the sea. "I know the odds, Finnick. But it's hard not to think about—I'm not strong like you—"

     "You're going to be fine, Annie." Finnick said, cutting her off with a harshness he rarely used against her. He couldn't help it, her words hurt him. The thought of seeing her in that Arena...

     "And if I'm not?"

     Finnick swallowed hard, his jaw clenched. His heart pounded in his ears. "Then I'll bring you home." His voice was raw with emotion. "I swear it, Annie. I'll bring you home."

     But even as he said it, the familiar doubt crept in. He'd failed tributes before. What if he failed again? What if this time it was Annie or Rio standing in front of him, with the Capitol waiting to rip them apart? The thought made his blood run cold.

     Annie smiled softly, as if trying to reassure him, though her own fear was barely masked. "You've always been there for me, Finn."

     He tried to return the smile, but it came out strained. "You make it sound like I'm some kind of hero."

     "You are to me."

     Finnick looked away, back out at the ocean. He didn't feel like a hero. Not with the Capitol's eyes always watching, waiting for him to slip. He was just... tired. And the worst part was, he knew the Games would never end. They'd keep coming, year after year, taking more from them.

     In two weeks, he'd be back in the Capitol. Back in the arena, in a way. He'd face the weight of mentoring again, the endless pressure to keep his tributes alive. The fear of failing once more. The fear that Annie or Rio might be the next ones ripped away.

     He wanted to stay here, in District 4, where the waves were the only thing that could drown him. He wanted to forget the Capitol existed, forget the Games and the horror that came with them. But the reality was always there, just on the edge of every moment of peace.

      Annie leaned her head on his shoulder, her presence warm and familiar. Safe. She didn't say anything else, and neither did he. They just sat there together, the sun sinking lower into the horizon, casting the sea in shades of gold and crimson. It was quiet here, on the rocks, the ocean waves filling the space where their fears couldn't be spoken aloud.

     She never demanded anything more from him apart from his company—it's apart of what made her so easy to be around. She was accepting of all of him—even the parts he despised. Unlike Rio and his father, she didn't judge. She trusted who he was—despite the reputation that surrounded him.

     The Capitol loved him for his charm, for his looks, for playing the perfect role they'd crafted for him. But they didn't care about the scars the Games left on him. On any of them. Scarlet Wolfe might be new to mentoring, but he wondered how long it would take before she realized what it really meant. She might be able to mentor a tribute with the same coldness she fought with, but what would happen when she realized no amount of skill or wickedness could change the Capitol's rules?

     "What are you thinking about?"

     Her voice drew him away from his thoughts, and he gave her half a smile. One that said he was okay, but inside, he ached.

     "Going to the Capitol. Mentoring the new tributes."

     "And the new Victor?" Annie teased lightly.

     Finnick scoffed, feeling his ears turn red at being called out. He rolled his eyes as she laughed, but soon he found himself laughing along with her.

     "Fine, yes." He admitted. "I'm hoping she'll show some restraint in the Capitol this time. Mentoring is different than being a tribute."

     "I kind of liked her, though." Annie said with a soft smile.

     Finnick shook his head with a light groan. "No, not you, too." At her raised brow, Finnick sighed. "Cricket's practically in love with her."

      Annie laughed. "Cricket loves every new Victor." That, at least, was true—though normally the fascination ended with the end of the Victory Tour. Cricket had yet to lose her fascination with Scarlet. "Besides, you didn't seem to mind being around her when she visited here."

     "Scarlet's..." Finnick thought for a moment, tasting her name on his tongue, trying to find the right words to describe the conflicting feelings inside of him. "Complicated." He said finally.

     "I think she's brave. And strong."

     "I agree. She's also honest. And that's nice." He sighed. "But that's the problem, Annie. Honesty and the Capitol?" He shook his head, dread curling in his gut. She was going to suffer as a mentor—or her tributes were. Scarlet was strong—but could anyone—especially someone like her—withstand failing so miserably?

     "You know, sometimes I wish I was more like her."

     "No, Annie." He said quietly. He admired Scarlet. But he could only imagine how she had suffered in the past. And how she would suffer in the future. He didn't want Annie to ever go through anything like that. "You shouldn't be anything like her. That girl invites trouble onto herself."

     "Oh, Finnick." Annie let out a small sigh of her own. "Trouble comes invited or not—she's strong though—and she'll only get stronger. I admire her resilience."

     At the mention of trouble, Finnick's brows furrowed. Worry for Scarlet's future was replaced by worry for Annie's present. "Is that May—"

     "—No. No, Finnick." She answered, her eyes meeting his as she shook her head. He read the truth in her eyes, and slowly, his body relaxed. "He's kept his distance from me ever since you had that little chat with him. I have no idea what you said, but it worked."

     "Good." He said with a frown. He'd about lost it when he found out she was being harassed by that two-faced bastard. When Finnick was here, he could make sure that Annie was treated right—it was reassuring to know that the Mayor had taken his words to heart and kept his distance even when Finnick left the District. Still... "But you'll tell me if anything ever changes, Annie." He said, because sometimes she liked to keep secrets, too worried about bothering him, to let him help. "I mean it."

     "I promise, Finnick." She said seriously, eyes meeting his. "I wish someone could protect you the way you protect everyone else." Her voice was barely a whisper, laced with a tenderness that made his heart clench.

     Finnick's lips curved up in a sardonic grin, tasting the lie well before the words left his mouth. "Please. Whatever would I need protection from?"

     The truth wouldn't comfort her though. And Finnick had no solution. He knew better than anyone that the Capitol was an enemy no one could shield him from, not even himself.

---------

THE END OF BOOK 1