Chapter Text
They’re going to regret putting my name in that bowl.
The words stayed with Cari throughout the night, leaving her to anxiously wonder what the latest bout of stupidity her sister had planned. Seeing as Aracel had slammed the door in her face afterwards, Cari hadn’t even had time to provoke an argument.
She tried to remain positive though. At least her sister was still fighting, whereas on the train it had seemed that she was ready to give up. Something about the night had changed Aracel’s mind, though Cari no longer thought it was about the Capitol’s poor reception to her.
With three days of training in front of her, Cari knew there was still time to fix things. Once Aracel saw the abilities of the Careers, she’d have to face the reality of what the next few days and weeks ahead had in store for her. She’d grow to realize that you’d do anything to survive, be anyone, say anything, kill even the closest of friends.
And in the deepest depths of her heart, Cari knew that a minuscule, extraordinarily guilty part of her was glad that finally Aracel would understand.
If only her sister were the only one she had to worry about. Jules was inconsolable on the phone, begging to talk to Aracel as he struggled to understand how this could all be happening once again. “I-I d-don’t un-der-der-stand,” he cried. “W-why c-can’t I-I t-talk t-to h-her?”
“Sweetie,” Cari tried to keep herself from choking up. “It’s not allowed. The Capitol would get her into trouble.”
“W-why a-are t-hey d-doing t-this?” he stammered out.
She felt her heart drop. “I don’t know, Jules. Sometimes these things just happen.”
“I don’t believe that,” he sniffed. “Cari, she has to come home.”
“She will,” Cari promised, tears slipping down her cheeks. “Nothing in this world is going to stop me from bringing her back to you.”
It was easier said than done when Aracel remained moody and unapproachable throughout breakfast, barely listening to Finnick’s advice about training. Monroe had already formed a small strategy of his own - only take in advice when Aracel was around to hear it.
“Both of you, be careful around the Careers,” she told them as they entered the elevator. “They like to intimidate their prey. Show them that you’re not going to be cowed into submission.”
And hopefully, do it together, she added silently, knowing it wouldn’t go down well with either of them.
Afterwards, Cari explained to Finnick what her sister had said the night before. “Maybe this isn’t a bad thing,” he said. “Sometimes, throwing a wrench into things can be rewarded by the Gamemakers. Everybody likes an underdog.”
“But she’s not really one,” Cari pointed out. “Maybe she would be if I hadn’t won last year…”
“Because she’s not really a Career, but she’s also not-not a Career,” Finnick sighed. “Look, you didn’t take the traditional route either. And I thought about pushing you to, but I knew it wouldn’t do you any good. It went against your baser nature to team up when One and Two. You needed to work out your own strategy, and you found a really good one at that.”
Yeah, by subconsciously leading on my ally.
“So maybe let’s give Aracel a chance to come up with her own strategy,” Finnick continued. “She may yet surprise us.”
Cari considered it for a moment before nodding. As reckless and thoughtless as Aracel could be, she wasn’t entirely stupid. Surely there was something brewing in the back of her mind, something beyond simply wanting to stick it to the Gamemakers.
Unfortunately, there wasn’t much more time to give it more thought. The second event of the sponsor circuit was a stuffy, society gathering, with older women swaddled in feather boas, and leering old men wrapped up in silk, cigarette jackets. Only Cari and a smattering of other female victors were dressed the slightest bit provocatively, her velvet gown dropping a tad low on her chest, and exposing a fair bit of her back too.
Sabine insisted on introducing her to her great aunt, a portly woman with flaky, white hair who didn’t seem particularly impressed with either Cari or her great-niece.
“Oh, you’re the winner Sabine has been going on about,” Great Aunt Milonia pursed her lips, as Cari privately thought her name sounded like a venereal disease.
“Pleased to meet you. Sabine has told me such wonderful things about you,” Cari held out her hand.
This wasn’t strictly true. Her escort had told her through various snippets of idle conversation that hers was a large clan, whose identity was baked into the very fabric of the Games. Sabine even had a Gamemaker cousin, who Cari had gathered was the matriarch’s favorite. And while an escort certainly ranked above her cameraman cousin on Flickerman’s set, it was still no grand achievement, even with three victors to her name.
With so many family members working on the Games though, the Sickles weren’t allowed to sign sponsor contracts, leaving Cari to feel like this was a big waste of her time.
Great Aunt Milonia declined to take Cari’s hand, smoking a cigarette from her engraved silver holder. “Your sister has had a bit of bad luck,” she said nonchalantly.
“Sometimes bad luck runs in families,” Cari shrugged, turning away from her.
Cari caught sight of a very familiar and influential figure in Capitol society. Menelaus Moss, Panem’s Agricultural Minister: responsible for almost as much starvation and misery as President Snow himself. His office gave frequent, bogus updates on record tesserae and crop quotas on Capitol news. Considering that the Mosses had been in the ministry position for so long that it was practically a hereditary title, very few people would hear the name without spitting on the ground in Sieravada.
As much as Cari had the urge to do so, what really stood out to her was that Moss looked to be in an awkward conversation with Genera. Indeed, the more she talked, the more his eyes shifted to the side, as if uncomfortable in her show-stopping presence.
As fit and handsome as her tribute was, District Five would always lack survival skills, let alone the necessary talent in combat and weaponry. That usually made them a long shot, regardless of how jaw-droppingly beautiful Genera was.
Cari had the distinct feeling that any attempts to steal a sponsor wouldn’t go down well. There seemed to be an unspoken rule against interrupting any conversation, at least this early on the sponsor circuit, if the lack of dirty tricks was anything to go by.
Well, Cari had a lot more on the line than the rest of them. She briefly retired to the bathroom, adjusting her dress to show just a tad more cleavage, applied a fresh new layer of lipstick, and combed through her silver, curled hair. She might not have been much competition for Genera on the surface level, but everyone knew that men preferred fresher faces any day of the week.
She walked in with a renewed sense of purpose, eyes flitting about to the sponsors in what she hoped was a flirtatious manner. As she landed on her target, Cari had to stop herself from digging her nails into her fingers. “Apologies for my interruption,” she said as graciously as she could, keenly aware that Genera’s inhuman eyes boiled like molten gold. “I was wondering if I might have a word with you, Minister.”
“Oh, Miss Lacosi,” his entire expression lit up. “Well, of course! I’ve been meaning to meet you, but you know how things are! Life can just get so busy. Genera, you wouldn’t mind if I have a quick word with Miss Lacosi?”
Genera looked like she wanted to sink her teeth into them both. “Not at all, Minister. I look forward to your return.” After a moment, she added, “Enjoy the company, Carmy.”
Cari felt her blood seethe at the nickname, having underestimated how juvenile it could make her seem.
“Thanks for the save,” Moss grinned conspiratorially, once they were a good deal away. For such a ruthless figure, he had a rather jovial disposition to her incredulity. “Genera always wants me to dig into my pockets, but I have to confess, I’m not much of a gambler.”
Cari felt her heart drop. “No?” she asked innocently. “You prefer to walk the straight and narrow, then?”
“Oh yes,” Moss tutted. “District One’s beautiful to be sure, but I fear it might be Two’s year. They haven’t had a winner since Enobaria, and they’ve been nursing sore wounds with all the wins from their fellow Careers. There’s also that big boy from Nine to think about. They’re long overdue for a victor.”
“Not a thought given to District Four?” Cari curved her lips. “Haven’t we surprised you enough?”
“Oh you certainly have, you and Finnick both,” Moss admitted. “That's why I wanted to meet you. Even amidst difficult circumstances, the two of you defied the odds.”
“And I assure you, my sister-“
“Is less likely to defy such odds,” Moss finished with a pleasant smile on his face.
Cari refused to give in. “With the right sponsor, she could go very far. And what a legend that sponsor would be, helping to bring home a beloved pair of successive sisters.”
“She didn’t look so beloved last night,” Moss pointed out.
Cari’s veins ran cold. “There’s still time.”
“Certainly there is,” he agreed. “But I confess, the challenge ahead of you amounts to a miracle.”
It was a struggle to keep her face placid. “And what greater satisfaction can a man have than making a miracle come true?”
For the first time, Moss seemed to be sincerely considering her words. “How about this? Let’s have another chat after the training scores come out. If your girl impresses me, I might find myself willing to loosen some purse strings.”
Cari flashed her teeth. “It’s a deal.”
Not quite the result she had wanted, considering the toes she had stepped on to get it. But it did give Cari a solid idea for her strategy going forward. Most of the upper echelons thought Aracel was doomed going into the Games for one reason or another. Yet, it seemed to strike their ego that they could do the impossible and turn the tide.
She had to pitch it slightly differently each time, all too aware that they’d be discussing the crop of attributes and mentors among themselves.
After briefly bouncing the idea off Finnick, the two of them decided to engage as a pair for the rest of the event. He’d lead the conversation, knowing more about each potential sponsor, while she would inject the intimate knowledge about her sister. For the most part, sponsors all had a similar train of thought to Moss: wait and see how she got through the week, and if she had a good showing, then they might be convinced to sign a contract.
Their strategy proved most successful with Harmonia Plexa, an aging, wealthy widow of a former Minister. Following Finnick’s lead, Cari decided that the Games would provide an outlet for her wild, untamed sister to leave behind her youthful follies and emerge as a disciplined, loyal victor, though many more euphemisms were used. Plexa certainly liked the idea, as she brought out a feather-tipped pen at once to sign a sponsorship contract.
“Just two contracts in two days,” Cari groaned as they returned to the Training Center.
“Sponsors are understandably hesitant about signing contracts this early on,” Finnick pointed out. “Besides, Sirena and Sabine are also networking throughout the Capitol. We could get a couple more calls in the afternoon for some follow-up conversations.”
“And how many contracts did you have signed for me this time last year?”
Finnick sighed, “Five.”
Five. Not a whole lot, but still double the number of Aracel’s. “I can’t wait any longer, I need to talk to Friend,” Cari shook her head. “She doesn’t need half-promises; she needs a Feeder sponsor.”
Finnick paused. “Cari, I’m not so sure you’ve thought this out.“
“I have,” she insisted. “She won’t be up for sale, don’t you worry. It’s me they’ll have.”
He looked at her miserably. “Yes, but they already have you.”
“I’ll figure something out,” she waved him off.
Despite this, Finnick’s words stayed with her. He was right; a Feeder sponsor essentially claimed the tribute for the foreseeable future. Seeing as Friend already bought and tagged her, Cari needed something else to give him besides her body. And for that, she’d had to figure out what he truly wanted at heart.
Sabine shot down any discussion of attempting to reach Friend. “You can’t summon the Minister of Defense, Carmen,” she shook her head as if talking to a little child. “Regardless of any previous… entanglements. If you want to see him, you’ll have to wait for him to show up on the circuit. Take heart, he usually shows up at least once a year.”
Usually. Her stomach dropped at the thought. Her best chance at keeping Aracel alive might not even bother to see her before the Games. Just her luck.
Her sister looked as miserable as Cari felt at dinner. “So how did it go?” she asked, barely able to keep a bite down of her favorite garlic-covered shrimp.
“Fine,” Aracel muttered under her breath.
Cari and Finnick exchanged a look. “What stations did you go to?” He cleared his throat.
Aracel’s eyes flicked to Monroe. “Spear-throwing and knife-throwing for the weapons,” she eventually answered. “A bunch of the survival ones like shelter making, fire starting, plant sorting.”
“And you, Monroe?” Sabine asked politely. They thought she might be their one avenue to work their way through his boundaries, less attached to Aracel. It would have been nice to have Sirena in the room too, but as a non-mentor, she was relegated to a block of apartments nearby.
“Just chucked some spears, threw some tridents,” Monroe answered non-committedly.
Cari caught Aracel’s eye. She’d have to wait until after dinner for any real update. “Well, were we correct to think that One and Two are the ones to beat?” she asked after a moment.
Slowly, Aracel nodded. “It’s like they were born to compete. I mean it’s one thing to see it on screen…”
“It’s the ultimate honor for them,” said Finnick. “They live and breathe the Games.”
Monroe patted down his lips, happily clapping his stomach. “Well, I’m beat. I think I’ll have an early night.”
Once he vanished, Cari immediately flashed her eyes towards Finnick. They had discussed this already - it was better than most of their questions came from him. “So, how did things really go?”
Her sister sighed, “He was chummy from the get-go with Two, especially the boy.”
Finnick remained placid. “Then get chummy with the girls, if not the pair from One altogether. The last thing you want to be is the odd one out of the Careers.”
“I can’t,” she shook her head. “Even if I were as strong, I would never be able to make nice with them. I’d be the first one they’d gut.”
“Not necessarily,” Finnick shook his head. “For one, you could be overlooked, just like I was. Secondly, if District One feels outnumbered, they’ll want someone else on their side. It’s served our tributes well in the past to balance the scales against one side of the Careers.”
“No, I can’t do that,” Aracel snapped. “Every part of me is revolted just to be near them.”
“Revolted?” Sabine interjected. “How could you-“
“Leave it,” Cari said quickly, knowing that this could turn disastrous depending on the next few words out of Sabine’s mouth. “Then what’s your proposed strategy? If you can’t join the pack, is there someone else you’d want to ally with?”
Her sister’s eyes narrowed at her, leaving no doubt as to what she was thinking about. “How about the boys from Five or Nine? They’re looking to be underdog contenders,” Cari suggested. “Right, Finnick?”
“That’s a good option,” he agreed. “Both could rack up a decent number of sponsors if they get good training scores.”
“My strategy is to go in it alone,” Aracel announced. “I’m getting as far as possible from the cornucopia, and then well…I’ll see.”
Cari fought the urge to swat her hand against her forehead. “That’s not a real strategy. It’s barely even a tactic!”
“Cari’s right,” Finnick said a tad more gently. “You need to come better prepared to the arena. So, how about you sit on it a little longer?”
“Fine!” Aracel shot out of her seat, slamming the proverbial door behind her as she vanished into the corridor.
Cari buried her head in her hands. “She’s going to get herself killed within the first day,” she muttered to them. “It’s like she’s living on a different planet.”
“Yes, your sister seems prone to the habit,” Sabine muttered distastefully, pulling out of her own seat. “You need to slap some sense into her.”
“Trust me, I’ve tried,” she said hopelessly to Finnick, once they were alone. Nearly a decade of foolish theatrics had led her sister down this path, the arena as her final destination if she didn’t quickly pull her head out of her ass.
“We’ve still got time,” Finnick reminded her. “She’s not the first tribute to go into a state of shock.”
“Shock?” Cari blinked. “You think this is shock?”
Finnick shrugged. “What else could it be? Nothing about her circumstances seems to actually be dawning on her. Oh, don’t get me wrong, I think she’s aware of how precarious her position is, but I don’t think she’s progressed past that stage. She doesn’t seem to get what it's going to take to come out alive.”
“Then we need to convince her,” Cari agreed. “But how? I mean, if a decade of watching the Games hasn’t done so by now…”
Finnick paused. “For some people, the sheer depth of the Games doesn’t really register. Take Sabine, for instance; she sees it as a sporting event.”
Cari raised a brow, “My sister hardly has a kind word to say about the Games.”
Finnick nodded, “Yes, but what if it’s the opposite for her? What if, in her mind, it’s so steeped in cruelty and bloodthirstness that she feels completely detached from it?”
Cari took a moment to register his train of thought. “She couldn’t understand killing out of survival. Maybe in self-defence if it came down to it. But for pure, selfish gain? The thought doesn’t even register to her.”
“Then that’s what we have to make her understand,” Finnick nodded.
“But she won’t really get it until she gets into that arena,” Cari shook her head.
“Let me talk to her in private,” Finnick said. “You two never really talked about the Games, right? And I don’t mean a few throwaway sentences. I mean detailed descriptions about how you felt in the arena, whether it be about sheer survival or taking a life.”
She shifted uneasily. “No, we didn’t.”
“Well, I’m going to be a lot straighter with her,” he said. “She’s not allowed to use training wheels anymore. Aracel needs to understand that she’s going to give in to her baser nature, no matter how disgusted she is by it.”
Neither Finnick nor Aracel gave any indication of how well their conversation had gone the following morning. And thinking that she’d cause more harm by fruitlessly attempting to reach her sister, Cari kept her mouth tightly shut until Aracel and Monroe left for their second day of training.
Genera’s eyes were on Cari the moment she walked into the day’s sponsor event. This stop on the circuit was a designated “family day” where children of wealthy potential sponsors were allowed a meet and greet with the mentors.
Genera seemed as much at home surrounded by a gaggle of admiring, school-aged children as she did being ogled by elderly Capitol men.
For Cari, the latter strangely felt less confronting. Very quickly, a dozen or so children had encircled her and Finnick, each begging for a photo or to sign some belonging of theirs.
One boy even had something to give her. “I hope you like it, Miss Lacosi,” he shifted on his feet shyly. “I worked really hard on it.”
Blinking, Cari took the offered sheet of paper and turned it over. She barely managed to keep her face straight as she took in the crude drawing. A silver-haired girl was standing in the middle of a snow-covered forest, a knife in one hand and a spear in the other.
“Thank you,” she told the boy, utterly disturbed. “You’re very talented. I’ll be sure to frame this and take it back home to my office.”
It didn’t get easier from there. Some of the kids wanted her to tell them about what her arena had been like, begging for details about the cold and the mutts and everything she had tried so hard to forget about it.
Halfway through the day, she found herself in a bathroom stall, her teeth clamping down on her palm. Cari wasn’t sure how much longer of this she could take. She knew that if she made a favorable impression, then some of the brats might just nag their parents had enough to earn Aracel a bit more sponsor money. Still, the next kid to ask her about which day in the arena was her favorite was going to get their bejewelled purse slammed into their face.
Cashmere Hearst was reapplying powder to her cheeks when she caught sight of Cari exiting the stall. “There you are,” she looked rather bemused. “You’ve been in there so long, Finnick was wondering if you had made a break for it. He’s in terrible shape, all the moms have descended upon him like he’s a Queen bee.”
Cari made a face at the analogy. “I just needed a minute,” she managed to get out.
“It was more than a minute,” Cashmere said. “Don’t worry, I get it. Oh, how I’d love to pinch their flabby little ears.”
Cari’s eyes immediately snapped from one end of the room to the other, gratefully finding that they were alone in the bathroom.
“Don’t worry, all the other parents have slipped out to smoke,” Cashmere rolled her eyes. “Only the ones truly desperate for their children’s affection have lingered. One of Canville’s more torturous ideas.”
Canville coming up with family day was just about the least surprising thing she could think of. “Well, you have to give it to him,” Cari said. “The man knows how to make one hell of a punishment.”
Cashmere snorted, “I wonder what inspired his…fascination with us? Do you think a victor turned him down in his youth?”
Cari’s lips twitched, “That would explain it. He’s been nursing a grudge ever since.”
“I bet it was Porter,” Cashmere snapped her fingers. “They’d be about the same age, and men always love the idea of tending to wounded women. It’s just another way to inflate their egos.”
Cari considered her words for a moment, thinking of how Dylan had comforted Blye in her grief. “Maybe,” she shrugged. “I think I’d better get back though. Before the moms start tearing Finnick to pieces.”
Cashmere sighed, “Yes, I suppose I’ve left Jasper out there alone long enough. This was much easier when it was just me and Gloss. He actually enjoyed being mommy bait…Anyway, let’s talk later, Carmy.”
She forced herself not to react to that stupid nickname. Genera, it seemed, had been busy in more ways than one.
The fact that Cashmere had spoken so…blasè towards her, preoccupied Cari as the rest of the day wore on. For one, she was one of the last people Cari had expected to express dismay at the Capitol children. For another, Cashmere had almost spoken to her as if they were…friends of sorts.
She thought back to the pitying look Cashmere had given her at the Tribute Parade and wondered just how real they had been.
Cari was just about ready to collapse when they finally returned to the Tribute Center, instantly barrelling herself into the shower to clean off the layer of snot that had been sprayed on her skin.
Afterwards, she and Finnick spent a few hours going over their strategy and outlining potential sponsorships. They had two more events before the interviews: tomorrow’s talent showcase and a formal ball the night before the interviews. Cari couldn’t decide which she was dreading more, even as she desperately hoped Friend would show up to at least one of the events. Then at least, Aracel would have a fighting chance.
When her sister and Monroe returned from training that day, Aracel was still in a poor mood. She sat cross-armed throughout dinner, barely touching her meal, while Monroe ravenously scoffed down a broad selection of foods. Well, at least that part of his strategy was known.
Neither of them gave anything more than a mundane report of the day’s training session. At the very least, Cari could glean that Monroe was indeed teaming up with the Careers while Aracel remained steadfast in her decision to go at it alone.
Deciding that picking another fight wasn’t worth it, Cari instead spent the remainder of her night going over her designs for tomorrow’s showcase. She hastily came up with some last-minute ones, hoping to pique the interest of some developer that might be willing to sponsor Aracel.
Her efforts were pretty fruitless. One by one, the mentors showed off their talents (or at least those who bothered to show up), but it was clear from the onset that Jasper Embrey was the Capitol favorite on this front. Most attendees were more interested in asking him to play a favorite piece of theirs rather than talking to any of the other mentors.
Finnick was particularly ticked off by this as they huddled in a forgotten corner of the room. “It went exactly the same last year. I thought they would have moved on from him, but nope, darling Embrey has captured their hearts all over again.”
Cari snorted. “You sound a bit jealous.”
“Not in the way you’re thinking,” Finnick rolled his eyes at the teary-eyed audience. “God, he’s hardly saving any lives here.”
“Well, he’s very good,” Cari pointed out.
“I can see that,” he scoffed. “Still, it’s just piano playing.”
“I think the crowd here understands that he’s got a genuine talent on his hands,” Cari said. “Not our engineered ones. No offence, you’re no great poet and I’m certainly not a groundbreaking architect.”
Finnick paused. “You think they care about anything…genuine here?”
“Maybe not consciously,” she admitted. “But I think even the most gauche Capitol idiot could recognise a true artist like Embrey.”
“I see they’re not the only ones who have been enchanted-“
“Not in the way you’re thinking,” she repeated. “Come on, let’s get back out there. There’s surely someone we could wrangle away…“
Cari trailed off at the sight of a familiar, new attendee. Ice flooded her veins, that spot on her shoulder feeling like a blister against her dress.
Antonius Friend had made a surprise show halfway through the day, accompanied by a ruby-haired woman. Many of the other mentors quickly glanced his way, leaving Cari to stomach down her discomfort and immediately make a beeline for him.
“Minister,” Cari greeted him with an inclination of her head. “It’s wonderful to see you again.”
Friend’s eyes, which had been wandering across the hall, only briefly glanced towards her. “Miss Lacosi, how lovely…Might I introduce my wife, Vispania?”
A wave of revulsion flew through her. The ruby-haired woman was his wife…of course she was his wife. Somehow, she has never given a thought to whether he had a family or not. Which would make Cari something of his mistress.
If Vispania Friend had ever been much of a beauty, it was well hidden by the numerous surgical enhancements across her face and body. Cari thought she might have been about her husband’s age, judging by the way her marble face sat, but in truth, she could have been twenty years his senior or junior for all she knew.
“It’s a pleasure to meet you,” Cari held out her hand. Vispania shook it only momentarily, her touch cool and coarse.
“And you,” she nodded politely, her gaze drifting towards Jasper on stage.
Cari’s lips had suddenly gone very dry as the three of them stood awkwardly silent. Barreling towards them without any real plan, as memories of that night lingered, hadn’t been her best move.
“Well, I-I was wondering if the two of you had any spare time, if you would like to come see some of my designs?” Cari barely got the words out without tripping over herself, neither Friend nor his wife looking particularly enthusiastic about the idea.
Vispania looked coolly resigned, “Well, if you insist.”
“Only if you want to,” Cari spat out quickly. “No pressure at all.”
“It’s no burden,” Friend sighed, his eyes still searching the crowd. “Shall we?”
It was clear their attention remained elsewhere as she spent a few minutes babbling on about her latest works, Friend’s gaze anxiously moving across the room in clear search of someone. Vispania was obviously more interested in Jasper’s piano playing, leaving her to feel that she would have done less damage than if she had simply stayed away.
“There she is!” Friend snapped her attention to a fair-headed girl about her own age who had just emerged from the crowd. “Julia, Julia, Julia!”
The young woman darted away from Friend’s calls as onlookers looked greedily interested in a new piece of gossip.
“Oh, for heaven's sake,” Vispania pressed her hand against her forehead. “I knew this was a bad idea.”
Cari couldn’t help but arch a brow. “Is everything okay?”
Vispania blinked as if she was just remembering Cari was there. “It’s nothing really. Just Antonius…he’s a gentle soul who does love to dote on his dear Julia. She’s the only daughter of his beloved sister, you see, whereas I’ve only been able to push a pair of twin boys out.” That last part came out rather bitterly, clueing Cari into a long-held grudge.
“We took her in when she was very small, her parents dying in a tragic accident. We did our best to raise her as our own, and well, truth be told, she was such a daddy’s girl growing up. But this past she’s been acting out, and he’s been taking it so hard. A few nights ago, they had such a terrible fight, saying all sorts of dreadful things, and she left to stay at a friend's place. We weren’t going to come today, but he heard that she was attending and well…you see how he is. Trailing after her like a little duckling.” Vispania’s bitter tone turned to one of disgust. “But I suppose it’s in a father's nature to adore his daughter more than the rest.”
“I suppose,” Cari agreed noncommittally.
“Did yours?” Vipsania's question threw her off.
“My younger sister was the apple of his eye,” she eventually decided after a moment’s hesitation.
Vispania gave her a knowing look. “I know how that feels. Well then, how much are you asking for?
“Eh, sorry?”
Vispania looked rather bemused. “For your sister? I suppose you want me and my husband to sponsor her?”
“Oh right,” Cari blinked. “That would be wonderful-“
“I’ll talk to Antonius then, once he can think of anything more than Julia. Well, I’m sure we’ll see each other at the ball. That’s one event I don’t think I’ll be getting out of this year. Now, if you excuse me, I'd like to get a closer look at Mr. Embrey.”
The whole confusing encounter with the Friends had left Cari feeling that she was off her game. She retired soon after to the private victor’s lounge to get her bearings. A few of those who had skipped the showcase were hiding out here, guzzling down drinks with obvious proficiency.
Ignoring her fellow victors, Cari ordered a beer at the bar, hoping to calm her rapid heartbeat. Now that some distance had been put between her and Friend, it had settled in just how much his presence had unnerved her. Those too-high cheekbones and grotesquely powdered hands triggered memories of that pink slip and good girl, and everything that had come afterwards.
“It’s a little too early to be throwing in the towel, don’t you think?
A foul stench invaded her senses as Cari craned her neck up to find Haymitch Abernathy sitting to the left of her.
Trying not to breathe through her nose, Cari replied, “I’m just taking a breather.”
“Carmy, you need to be made of stronger stuff if you’re going to get through the week,” Haymitch said. “That or order something a little stronger than piss water.”
“It’s Carmen,” she said without thinking.
Haymitch looked amused. “I’m sure it is. And in any case, it’s not a good look for a victor as young as yourself to be back here so early.”
“I assume you haven’t left at all today?”
“My talents lie elsewhere than a glorified show and tell.”
“They should let the sponsors back here. I’m sure you could really show them something special if you put your mind to it,” she gestured to the empty glass in his hand.
Haymitch paid her no mind, ordering another scotch. “So where’s your drinking buddy?” Cari finally asked him. “I thought Chaff would be hanging around you for sure.”
“Oh, he’ll show up when the mood strikes, don’t you worry,” Haymitch assured her.
“Look, what do you want from me?” she finally spat out. “I don’t like playing games like this.”
Haymitch’s shrewd eyes shifted a tad. “Would you believe me if I said I didn’t want anything from you and only wanted to give you my condolences for your sister?”
“No, I wouldn’t,” Cari answered bluntly. “And I don’t need your condolences. My sister’s going to be just fine.”
Haymitch was silent for a moment before holding up his already half-empty glass. “Well then, in that case, let’s toast to another exciting Hunger Games.”
“Go to hell.” Cari slumped off the bar and returned to the revelries without another look at Haymitch Abernathy.
It was a fruitless endeavor though. With the training scores being announced that night, no one was feeling up to opening up their purses.
The only silver lining was that the day had distracted her enough from worrying over how Aracel’s private training session had gone. Indeed, even after Cari returned to find her locked in her room, her thoughts continued to linger on her conversation with Vispania Friend.
It seemed frankly bizarre that Vispania would offer so much private information on a silver platter for her, leaving Cari to wonder just how deep the enmity between her and her husband lay.
Had Vispania guessed that her husband had bought her? Surely such a large sum of money given to her in the Games hadn’t gone unnoticed. Was this simply Vispania’s way of getting back at her husband for being unfaithful?
Friend himself had confused her. She would have expected him to at least slyly ogle her whenever his wife wasn’t looking. But he had given no indication that he had ever been interested in Cari, too busy moping over his fraught relationship with his niece.
To her surprise, Monroe and Aracel both looked rather pleased at dinner that night. Neither was willing to offer any information about how training went, with Aracel cryptically telling her, “You’ll see,” when Cari briefly pulled her aside.
She couldn’t keep anxiety in check as they congregated in the lounge room, constantly fidgeting in her seat and barely keeping herself from biting chunks off as they waited for Flickerman to announce the training scores. She wasn’t the only one who was nervous, with Finnick, Sabine and the stylists all visibly sharing her doubts. It was almost unnerving to realize that the tributes were the most confident among them, leading Cari to blanch at the thought of what they had shown the Gamemakers.
Maybe Aracel has turned over a new leaf, she told herself. Maybe whatever Finnick said to her was just the dose of reality she so desperately needed.
And yet when Flickerman finally appeared on screen, the hint of a smile graced Aracel’s features, sending a sinking feeling through her. None of Aracel’s smiles in the past year had ever meant anything good.
“Well, we are starting things off strong tonight, ladies and gentlemen,” Flickerman bristled. “From District One, Auden Pryce: 10.”
Well, no surprise there. Auden looked as if he had been genetically engineered to become a victor.
“…Tilda Varine: 9.” Another strong showing from One. All those sponsors from today would be tripping over themselves to call Jasper and bet their life savings on his tributes.
“From District Two, Atlas Heius: 11.” Cari blinked at the score. While not unheard of, an eleven wasn’t commonly given out to tributes. Either Atlas had held back in training or, more likely, Aracel and Monroe had both sold him short in their post-training debriefs.
“When’s the last time anyone’s gotten an eleven?” Cari whispered to Finnick as a “10” was announced for Drusa Pulver.
“Enobaria,” he exhaled.
Cari clenched her jaw, “Well, no doubt she’s thrilled.”
“From District Three, Zepto Britt: 7.” Cari’s eyes flashed back to Aracel. Just a few more scores and she’d know just how much damage her sister had done.
“…Keeks Meitner: 4.”
“Ouch,” Monroe whistled, a very satisfied look sitting across his face. “That’s got to hurt.”
As his face flashed on screen, he sat up straighter as Cari gritted her teeth. “From District Four, Monroe Colris: 10.”
Sabine and his stylist, Tullus, burst into immediate applause as Cari, Hypatia and Finnick exchanged heavy looks.
“Well done," Finnick said after a second as Cari murmured a half-hearted congratulations. Well, if we ever convince them to team up, at least he’ll know what he’s doing.
“From District Four, Aracel Lacosi,” Flickerman began, with a hint of eagerness on his stale features. “6.”
Cari’s stomach fell through the floor.
“Six?” Aracel repeated, breaking the stunned silence that had enveloped the room. The hint of a smile had long vanished from her features. “How did I get a six?”
Finnick had immediately gotten to his feet. “Are you saying that you were underscored?”
“Finnick!” Sabine looked scandalized at the very thought. “How dare you even insinuate-“
Cari’s eyes flashed back towards the screen where Link Paxton had earned himself an “8.”
“They didn’t underscore me,” Aracel snapped. “They overscored me!”
Hypatia let out a strangled laugh, “What? How could the Gamemakers overscore you?”
“Yeah, with only a six too?” Monroe snorted.
“What could you have possibly done to earn less than a six?” Finnick’s hands were clasped tightly, as if he was holding himself back from launching himself at Aracel. Behind him, Flickerman had reached Hudson Grey from District Six, who had earned himself a pathetic “5”.
“Absolutely nothing,” Aracel said. “I sat there and refused to do a goddamn thing.”
“You did what?” Now Sabine was on her feet, her voice having taken on a hysterical tone. “What do you mean by that?”
“I mean that I wasn’t going to play the part of a dancing circus monkey,” Aracel said, her arms wrapped tightly together.
Cari suddenly felt dizzy, her vision clouding as she barely made out the girl from Seven on her screen.
“You stupid, foolish girl!” Sabine roared as the stylists exchanged horrified looks, while Monroe shook with silent laughter. “How dare you- how dare you-“
“How dare I? How dare I?” Aracel repeated amid the rising noise.
“ENOUGH!” Finnick snapped. “All of you, just shut up!” Finally, he turned to her. “Cari, what do you-“
But Cari was no longer listening to him. In fact, a sudden ringing in her ears made it hard to discern any sound at all. Instead, she ignored the others and practically dragged herself back to quarters, borderline collapsing over the toilet.
And yet it wasn’t Aracel she thought of as she puked her guts out. Rather, it was Antonius Friend that filled her head; his powdered fingers, that frilly pink slip, that spot on her shoulder, him calling her good girl over and over again, him trailing after his niece-
He wants a daughter.