And so it begins.

Every day, Cato and I arrive in a new district. We do it properly this time, holding hands and kissing and saying all the stupid lines our escorts have written.

I hate it. I hate every moment. And he does too. And deep down, I know we are not convincing Snow. We can barely hide our contempt as we kiss, our lips cold against each other's, and every other interaction is awkward at best, loathing at worst.

"Sage and I want to share with you our victory, and our gratitude to the Capitol, for bringing us together," Cato says in Nine, not looking at either of the projections of the fallen from there. "It was the bond of love, forged in the crucible of the games, that was our greatest prize."

Our kisses are sour because we perform so many of them, his lips dry and cracked. And the audience is about as convinced as Snow, looking up at us with scowls and frowns.

"For it is love, and true love, that forces us to bear our hardships, and mend the heart that banishes loneliness and gives meaning to our lives."

In Seven, I am reading from the cards when it happens.

"We also want to share with you the sorrows of our losses. The tributes of this district were-" I slow to a stop as two people, a man and a woman, put their three fingers up, and peacekeepers march through the crowd to them. I look sideways at Haymitch, who just purses his lips. I understand the message. I have to continue if I want to have any hope of convincing them.

"The tributes of this district were brave and noble warriors. They brought honour to their families and pride to their district," I continue to read, seemingly unperturbed. Inside, I am dying. "We are all of us united, both victors and vanquished, in serving a common purpose."

In Four, I recieve a bouquet from a young girl with flowers of the same variety in her hair.

"Thank you," I say with a smile.

She looks back at me with equal joy. "When I'm older, I'm gonna volunteer, just like you did."

A spike of dread impales my heart, because as I turn to the audience with my bouquet, I can't help but think of how bad an influence I've been on young girls in career districts.

The nightmares still come, of course. In fact, I wake screaming from one that night, sweat pouring down my face, my whole body shaking. My mind is in turmoil as I scream, my whole body moving in different directions.

My throat is raw and dry by the time I stop screaming, and it is only then that I hear the footsteps, and hear the door click open. I turn, not really knowing what on earth to expect, and see Cato in the doorway, looking at me with a mixture of pity and anger.

"Go away," I snap, wiping my tears as I look at him.

Cato crosses his arms, his blue eyes glinting in the moonlight. "Did you have a nightmare?"

"None of your business."

"Are you alright?"

"Go away, Cato."

He looks at me, his eyes flicking over my shaking body, my teary eyes, my quivering lips. I look at him, as well. His tensed frame, his sparkling eyes, his blonde hair that somehow still looks perfect.

He looks so beautiful. I hate him for it.

"Okay," he said, turning around. "Night."

Half of me wants to call out to him. To reach for him in the darkness. To stop him from going away ever again. To ask him to stay tonight, to hold me, to help me sleep. My better half.

But I have another half that hates him, and myself too. And I decide to listen to it.

"Night."

That is the first and only night he comes to my room. And the next morning, we don't speak about it.

And it's that day that I get a true glimpse of the rebellion, in Three. I am reading the usual crap from the cards with a smile on my face, trying to make the people believe it, when I am interrupted.

"PUT DOWN THE CARDS!"

"YEAH TELL US WHAT YOU REALLY THINK!"

"Panem today, Panem tomorrow, Panem forever," I finish, trying to ignore them.

The crowd are screaming and shouting as we finish, pushing forwards whilst the peacekeepers try to stop them advancing. Fear is instilled within me.

Cato and I aren't convincing them.

And if we aren't, then a lot of lives are on the line.

Neither being ours.

☦︎☦︎☦︎

We're going to Two next. The whole prospect of going to Cato's home district is scaring me more than I can imagine, because what if we can't even convince them?

On the train to said district, Haymitch sits Cato and I down in the compartment, saying firmly. "Snow is watching us. If he wants you to pacify the districts, I promise you, he's not happy. Instead of being in love, you two sound like you're reciting from a drilling manual."

"You try writing that stuff that Effie and Salcilia write us," Cato muttered viciously.

"Tell that to President Snow when you see him, two days from now!" Haymitch raises his voice.

"I'm open to suggestions," Cato fights back.

"We could get married."

It was me that uttered that, but in the silence that follows, I almost wish I didn't. I'm sitting, my body closed off and my eyes trained on the ground, as I clench my hands together tightly.

"That's not helping," is all Haymitch tells me.

"Do you think I'm kidding?" I ask, raising my voice slightly as I look up at him. "If, like you said, we're on this train forever, it's gonna happen eventually. Why not now?"

"And we could do it in Two," Cato nods along, sending me a scathing yet somewhat envious look. "In front of the crowd."

Haymitch just stares between us, chuckling. "It does make a statement, I'll give you that."

"Then let's do it," Cato's voice is a breathy sigh as he stands up, leaving the compartment without another word.

I sit there for a total of two seconds before I get up, too, and head in the opposite direction.

☦︎☦︎☦︎

Two is different.

Obviously, it has as much right as Twelve to be celebrating. One of the victors is from there, and they train kids from when they're ten all the way until eighteen to volunteer, go into the games and win. They should be celebrating, really.

But not as much as they are.

The crowd greeting us as we get off the train is not like the one greeting Cato; my family and a camera crew. It's basically the whole fucking district. And they're all screaming and yelling and whooping and laughing, and it's just a lot.

And they don't even know that he's going to propose to me tonight, on stage in front of them.

Cato and I are standing on the platform, hands intertwined as we smile down at the crowd a if we are not deathly afraid of them. Haymitch, Andrew, Effie and Salcilia stand beside us, all of us with the same expression as the cameras flash and click.

Then, finally, a voice that isn't screaming about us or yelling stupid things.

"Cato!" It yells, full of excitement and, well, love. "Cato! Cato!"

And then a blur of blue eyes and blonde hair is running at Cato, and embracing him, and Cato is laughing, and he looks genuinely happy, as the boy pulls back and he ruffles his hair.

I don't know what to feel. Cato and I haven't had a genuinely happy interaction in ages, and I don't know

The boy is an almost identical copy of his brother, just slightly younger. But he still had the blue eyes and the blonde hair. He still had the trademark smirk.

"Hey, Carse!" Cato grins, his voice the lightest I've ever heard.

"Hey!" The boy grins up at him, before turning, unexpectedly, to me. "Hey, I'm Carson, I'm Cato's-"

"Brother," I nod, smiling down at him. "He told me about you."

The full sentence is 'he told me about you when he was explaining your asshat father', but I don't think Carson, nor the cameras, nor the population of Two, will want to hear that.

"I'm Sage," I smile down at him. He's practically my height, but slightly smaller.

"Nice to meet you," Carson grinned, before we go in for an embrace. You'll love that one, Snow, along with the fucking engagement, I think bitterly as we pull apart, both still smiling. Mine fake, his genuine.

At that, the awkward pause begins. We have no clue what to say or do, yet we must keep talking, because we kind of have an audience.

Then, finally, Cato speaks. "Is, er... is dad coming, Carse?"

Carson looks down, pursing his lips.

"No," he finally answers. "He's... he's not."

I frown. Cato's arsehole father is the reason he went into the games in the first place, because he wanted a stupid victor to win over his brother with. But now he's finally got his perfect little victor, he's not even coming to see him? His own son?

It's then, looking between the tense looks Cato and Carson direct at each other, that I realise the former hasn't talked once about his family, or even his father, since the reunion at the station. Maybe, in fact, definitely, there's more to it.

"But he told me to wish you both well," Carson smiles up at us, then he turns to me. "Is it really true you can hit anything with a knife? And you never miss?"

I chuckle, I can't help it. Because this boy must be around ten, meaning he's never had to face a reaping or the unfairness of this word yet, and his childhood hasn't been taken from him. All he cares about is how much I can hit with a knife.

"Yeah," I shrug, genuinely grinning down at him. Yeah, Snow. "But the 'never miss' is debatable."

"No it's not," Cato smiles beside me, taking my hand. And when I look into his eyes, I see a genuine smile on his face as well.

Then I blink, and it's fake again. A fake smile, a fake love.

"Right, come on then," Haymitch's voice beside me startles me, but I don't jump. "Let's get you two to the justice building."

The justice building. The place I don't want to go to. The place I will get engaged.

The one place in the world that could make my situation worse than it already is.

☦︎☦︎☦︎

The crowd in Two isn't like the others.

They're still yelling and screaming, but they're also smiling, and clapping. None of them seem at all unhappy. To be fair, with how much kissing ass they do to the Capitol, I'm not surprised they're not on the brink of an uprising. Of all the districts, Two is definitely the most stable right now.

Cato and I are stood up on the stage, hands intertwined and raised high in the air as the crowds clap and cheer. I grin, or feign grinning, as Cato roars in glee, a huge smile plastered on his face.

I'm more than terrified.

In the speech that will come, Cato will get down on one knee and ask me to marry him. To be his forever.

And I won't ever be allowed to be free again.

"Thank you," Cato says into his microphone as the clapping comes to a stop, finally. Then he begins with the usual crap. "Sage and I want to share with you our victory, and our gratitude to the Capitol, for bringing us together. It was the bond of love, forged in the crucible of the games, that was our greatest prize."

It's then that he glances at me, and then back down at the cards. And by the look on his face, I know this is the moment he's going to go off script.

"Sage," he says, turning to me, looking me in the eye. I don't know whether the look of love he gives me is fake or real, I don't know if any of this is fake or real, but what I do know is that I hate all of this, as he takes my hand. "I love you, so much. I'm so thankful that I get to be here with you, and make no mistake, I would've rather died in that arena than live without you."

I look up at him, smiling slightly, trying to look in love, as the audience take a collective gasp.

"So I want to never be in doubt again," Cato says, voice shaky. "I want to spend forever with you, Sage Everdeen, I want to make new memories with you, and most of all make you happy. So..." he feigns nervousness, as if he doesn't know what I'm going to say as he gets down on one knee, taking a ring box out his pocket and flicking it open. "Sage, will you marry me?"

And the audience is screaming and clapping, and the ring is almost blinding me; the huge diamond upon it reflecting the sun. I told Haymitch I wanted an emerald, but the Capitol don't consider them fancy enough, so I had to settle for a diamond instead.

I'm so trapped in my thoughts I realise I haven't answered his question yet.

I gasp, bringing my hands up to cover my mouth as I muster up some tears in my eyes, before smiling and saying. "Yes, Cato, a thousand times, yes!"

He stands up, slotting the ring right onto my finger before taking my face in his hands and kissing me hard. I don't think I've ever kissed him this passionately before.

The crowd is still screaming as we part, and I try to smile as I look into those blue eyes I always thought would be my undoing.

We're engaged. It's official.

Just let it be enough to convince Snow.