Chapter 24

The familiar sound of the anthem plays, but this time when I hear it, my heart leaps with eager anticipation. I hear the crowd cheer as Caesar Flickerman emerges. He tells a few jokes to warm them up before introducing the prep teams. They must be giddy with excitement. I imagine them doing ridiculous curtsies, blowing kisses to the audience, and feigning humility with folded hands across their chests. Next, Effie is presented. I actually can't help but feel happy for her. She has waited so long to have a victor, and now she has two. For her, this is a once in a lifetime, unimaginable triumph. And, say what you like about her, Effie Trinket really did do everything in her power to help us. When Portia and Cinna are introduced, the crowd goes absolutely wild with applause. I'm thrilled that their brilliant work receives the recognition it deserves. The effort they put into creating such mesmerising, unforgettable costumes for Katniss and me could have even made the difference between life and death for the two of us. We will be indebted to them for the rest of our lives. Haymitch is last, and to my astonishment, receives a round of cheering, whistling, and stomping that goes on for at least five minutes. I guess everyone loves a transformation story – useless drunk turned successful mentor to not one, but two victors, and from District 12 no less.

And then it's our turn. The platform beneath my feet jolts into motion, sending a ripple of excitement surging through my body. For a moment, I'm blinded and deafened by the bright lights and roar of the crowd. Before I can register my surroundings, Katniss flings herself into my arms, causing me to stumble back and lose my balance. I catch myself before I fall, holding onto Katniss with one hand and using the cane to steady myself with the other. We cling tightly to one another for a long while the audience goes berserk. She's alive, she's safe, and she's in my arms and I'm never letting go. I pull back just enough so that I can kiss her. She presses into me with real passion. It's the first time we kiss when we are not sick, dying, or being hunted. It feels incredible. The sound of the crowd fades from my consciousness and all I can take in is the sensation of her lips and the feel of our bodies wrapped around each other. For a few moments, it's like the world doesn't exist and it's just me and Katniss, alone together.

When we finally break apart, we just stand there, gazing at one another as if our eyes were seeing for the first time. She looks incredible. Her flickering yellow dress is reflected on her perfect face, causing it to light up like the sun. The effect is intoxicating. So when Caesar taps me on the shoulder to tell me it's time to start the show, I push him away without even shifting my focus from Katniss. I kiss her again, ignoring the excited howls and whistles of the crowd.

Finally, Haymitch gets himself between us and shoves us toward the victor's chair, which this year, is actually a small red velvet couch, just large enough to accommodate two people. I position myself carefully on one side and Katniss sits close beside me. She then kicks off her black leather sandals, tucks her feet up, and leans her head against my shoulder. I wrap my arms around her and give the top of her head a gentle kiss.

Caesar makes a few more jokes and then announces that it's time to start the show. As the lights dim and the Capitol seal is broadcast on the screen, my stomach clenches into a tight knot and I feel sick. I had been so fixated on getting to see Katniss again that I forgot to prepare myself for what will be a gruelling three-hour review of the Games. Being forced to relive each horrifying moment, every brutal killing in close-up, gruesome detail feels like a special kind of torture that only a few would ever understand. Katniss encases one of her hands in mine and I give it a gentle, reassuring squeeze.

But when the screen lights up and the highlights begin to play, I'm relieved to find that the editors have chosen to tell a different story this year. A love story. It's normal for replays to focus a lot on the victor, but Katniss and I certainly receive a disproportionate amount of airtime.

It begins with the pre-arena events, the reaping, the chariot ride through the Capitol, our training scores, and our interviews. The montage is all set to a series of upbeat songs that seems strange and awful given that almost everyone on screen just died horrible, grisly deaths.

Once the Games begin, they basically alternate between footage of the tributes dying and shots of Katniss or me. There's detailed coverage of the opening bloodbath, and each and every killing that took place afterwards. I look away when they show me with the girl by the fire.

I actually enjoy watching Katniss navigate the Games when she was acting solo. She's in her element, showcasing remarkable strength and an unshakable spirit of survival as she dodges fireballs, climbs trees, and blows up supplies. I can't help but admire her. She looks positively fierce compared to me.

That is, up until the part where Rue is killed. Then the audience gets to see another side of Katniss. The side I first fell in love with. After she kills Marvel, she kneels beside Rue, who is curled up on her side, the spear sticking straight out of her stomach. Katniss takes Rue's outstretched hand and lifts the head of the dying girl onto her lap. Rue asks Katniss to sing to her. And she does. Tears stream down Katniss's cheeks as she recites the words to an old lullaby. A stillness comes over the audience, as if every single person is holding their breath. The sweet, pure sound of her voice rings out into the night air. Then, when the song is over, the mockingjays in the arena pick up the tune, giving the distinct impression that the entire forest is mourning Rue's loss.

The tone of the show changes abruptly when the rule change is announced. The moment it happens, Katniss calls out my name and immediately comes searching for me. Our first kiss is played in full, which is totally weird to see on the big screen, and a lot of time is spent on the two of us in the cave as we nurse each other back to health.

They show what I think is far too much of Cato's death before moving on to the final scene with the berries. The audience hush one another, not wanting to miss a single moment. The show ends not with an announcement of our victory, but with Katniss screaming my name and pounding on the glass doors of the hovercraft while the medics try to revive me.

The anthem sounds once again and we rise for President Snow as he takes the stage. He is followed by a little girl carrying a single golden crown on a red velvet cushion. You can hear the murmurs of confusion among the audience as they try to figure out whose head he will place it on. But when he picks it up, he gives it a twist and it separates into two perfect halves. I receive mine first and watch as President Snow adorns Katniss's head with her crown. It's not until this moment that I realise how different she looks. Cinna and his team have worked hard to make her look younger and more feminine. Her hair has been left out, held back by a single headband, and the usual angles of her face seem to have been rounded out somehow. She looks not like a Hunger Games victor, but an innocent, unassuming girl. I'm guessing the TV producers have something to do with it, since it doesn't seem like something Cinna and Portia would have come up with. All part of the love story, I guess. There's a lot of cheering and bowing, and then Caesar wraps up the show, reminding the audience to tune in again tomorrow for the final interviews.

Katniss and I are whisked off to the President's Mansion for the Victory Banquet, where, instead of actually eating, we are tossed to and fro – meeting Capitol officials and having our photos taken with our sponsors. Everyone gushes and talks excitedly about us as if we went there. I work hard to smile, laugh, and chatter away politely to each and every person. It's not easy; especially when people want us to relive parts of the Games with them. It either feels too awful or too private to share with these removed strangers. The only thing that stops me from losing it completely is Katniss, who keeps her hand tightly interlocked with mine throughout the entire evening.

It's early morning by the time it's all over and I'm dying to finally have some time alone with Katniss before catching up on sleep. But when we arrive back on the twelfth floor, Haymitch sends me off with Portia to have my shoes fitted for the final interview. It seems a little arbitrary, like it was just an excuse to get rid of me for a while. Maybe I'm just being paranoid, but I can't shake the feeling that Haymitch is up to something.

I'm afforded just a few hours of sleep before Effie comes to collect me for another "big, big, big day!" Everything happens in a rush. My prep team hover nearby while I shovel down a bowl of rice and stew, then they whisk me away to the prep room where I'm subject to yet another a round of grooming and beautifying. After my hair and makeup are complete, Portia comes to fit me in a suit with black trousers and a crisp white shirt. She adjusts a burgundy tie around my neck and helps me into a tailored suit jacket of the same colour.

"This is your last outfit Peeta," Portia says, revealing it to me in the mirror. "Then this will all be over and you get to start your new life back home."

My new life. What will that be like, I wonder? Everything will be totally different. Katniss and I will each have our house in the Victor's Village. No doubt Katniss's family will move in with her. It will be a welcome escape from their half fallen down shack in the Seam. The victor mansions are nicer than just about every other house in the District and are definitely larger and better appointed than ours. Still, my parents will want to stay at the bakery and I doubt my brothers will want to live with me. With the income I receive as a victor, my parents could actually sell the bakery and do whatever they wanted. But I know they won't. They wouldn't know what to do with themselves if they weren't slaving away at the ovens. It's just a part of their identity.

But it doesn't matter what my family does because I will have Katniss. Things will change when we get home, away from the spotlight. The flashy romance of the Capitol will be gone and we can just get on with being ourselves like we were back in the cave. And even though the traumas of the last few weeks will never leave us, we'll at least have each other to get us through.

The interview is set to take place in a small sitting room, decorated with vases of red and pink flowers positioned around the red velvet couch. The live audience has been replaced by a handful of cameras and a small crew. Katniss is already there when I arrive, looking gorgeous in a flowing white dress and pink shoes. Haymitch is there too, lurking amongst the cameramen and watching Caesar chat casually with Katniss.

In the few moments before the show starts, I manage to pull Katniss off to the side. "I hardly get to see you. Haymitch seems bent on keeping us apart."

"Yes, he's got very responsible lately," she says. Her face is glowing radiantly under the studio lighting.

"Well, it's just this and then we go home. Then he can't watch us all the time," I say.

Caesar calls us over and we sit side by side on the little red couch.

"Oh, go ahead and curl up next to him if you want," Caesar tells her. "It looked very sweet." She does and I pull her in close to me.

There's a countdown from ten, and then the interview begins. Caesar is in fine form, teasing us and joking around as we chat about the lighter side of things. Katniss is clearly uncomfortable with the attention and frequently defers the conversation back to me.

"Peeta, we all had a good laugh after you teased Katniss for being a bad liar, and then she immediately fooled you into drinking the sleep syrup. How did you feel when you woke up and realised what had happened?" Caesar asks.

"Honestly, I wanted to be angry at her but there was no opportunity," I say. "At first I was just concerned about Katniss because she was unconscious with that big gash on her head, and then I was so happy to have her with me again when she finally woke up. Then it was just hard not to admire her for taking on the Careers to save my life. What else could I do but feel grateful and love her even more?"

"Yes, I think the audience shared the same sentiment," Caesar replies. "Well, Peeta, we know, from our days in the cave, that it was love at first sight for you from what, age five?" Caesar asks.

"From the moment I laid eyes on her," I say.

"But Katniss, what a ride for you. I think the real excitement for the audience was watching you fall for him. When did you realise you were in love with him?" Caesar asks.

"Oh, that's a hard one…" Katniss laughs nervously.

"Well, I know when it hit me. The night when you shouted his name from that tree," Caesar says.

"Yes, I guess that was it. I mean, until that point, I just tried not to think about what my feelings might be, honestly, because it was all so confusing and it only made things worse if I actually cared about him. But then, in the tree, everything changed," she says.

"Why do you think that was?" Caesar presses.

"Maybe… Because for the first time… There was a chance I could keep him," Katniss says hesitantly, as if she's not sure it's the right thing to say.

I press my forehead into Katniss's temple. "So now that you've got me, what are you going to do with me?"

She twists her body around, folds her hands around my waist and looks into my eyes. "Put you somewhere you can't get hurt."

I lean down to kiss her, savouring the sweet moment. In all my fantasising about being with Katniss, I could never have imagined that it would feel this good to have her care about me the way she does now.

For Caesar, this is a natural place to segue into all the ways Katniss and I were hurt in the arena – burns, to stings, to tribute inflicted wounds. There is a lot of light banter and joking right up until Caesar asks me how my new leg is working out.

"New leg?" Katniss asks, pulling at the bottom of my trousers.

"No one told you?" asks Caesar gently. Katniss shakes her head.

"I haven't had the chance," I say.

Katniss responds just as I predicted she would. "It's my fault. Because I used that tourniquet."

"Yes, it's your fault I'm alive," I say.

"He's right," Caesar chimes in. "He'd have bled to death for sure without it." She must know we're right, but even so, Katniss is dreadfully upset and buries her head in my chest. It takes Caesar and me a few minutes to coax her back out, reassuring her that she did the right thing. Caesar and I chat a little more about my leg and I'm careful to emphasise how good it is and how I'm looking forward to being able to run again. Once Caesar has given Katniss a break, he turns his attention back to her.

"Katniss, I know you've had a shock, but I've got to ask. The moment when you pulled out those berries. What was going on in your mind… Hm?"

Katniss takes a long pause. "I don't know, I just… Couldn't bear the thought of… Being without him," she says softly.

"Peeta? Anything to add?" Caesar questions.

"No. I think that goes for both of us," I say.

It's a perfect moment to finish the interview. Caesar wraps up and signs off, and the whole room is alive with laughter, tears, and hugging. It's a magnificent feat for them – a Hunger Games show that is not just a story of survival and triumph, but love. Nothing like this has ever been done before and may never be achieved again.

With the last public appearance over, we are swiftly ushered into a car with blackened windows and driven the short distance to where the train is waiting for us. We are only given a few moments to say goodbye to Portia and Cinna, which is not nearly long enough. We will get to see them in a few months though, when we are paraded through the districts on our Victory Tour. It's the Capitol's way of keeping the Hunger Games at the forefront of people's minds. We'll have to make a bunch of speeches while the district people pretend they love us instead of wishing us dead for having killed their children.

Effie leads us onto the train and Haymitch follows behind, batting the last of the cameras away. I let out a big sigh of relief as the doors of the carriage close behind us and the train pulls swiftly into motion. It is done. Now we can start to get on with some sort of normal life, whatever that means.

But as we slowly make our way through a decadent five-course evening meal, I can sense that Katniss is not quite herself. And when we settle in front of the television to watch a replay of the interview, her eyes appear glazed and she emits no response to any of it. Eventually, she excuses herself and escapes to her room, leaving me to watch the rest of the show with Haymitch and Effie.

When Katniss returns about an hour later, I'm reassured to see that she has transformed back into her typical, pre-Games self. She wears no makeup, her hair is back in her regular braid, and she is dressed in a simple shirt and trousers. I haven't seen her like this since before the Games began. This is Katniss at her most beautiful, without anyone interfering to try to make her into something she's not.

Katniss strolls over and sits beside me. But when I put my arm around her shoulders, it's immediately apparent that something is still not right. Even though she is right here, she somehow feels as far away as she did when I lay dying among the mud in the arena. I glance at her, but she refuses to meet my gaze. I guess it's not fair for me to expect her much of her right now. We've been through so much, seen so much. Perhaps now that we are safe and on our way home, the horrors of the past few weeks are finally starting to sink in.

When the train makes a brief stop for fuel, I suggest we go outside for some air. Katniss takes my outstretched hand and together we meander slowly along the track. Even though it's the first time we've been alone without the prying eyes of the Capitol, we don't speak. Katniss seems to have retreated somewhere inside herself, and I can't think of anything useful to say to bring her back out.

With the hope of lifting her spirits a little, I pause to collect a bunch of delicate pink and white flowers that are growing beside the rails. She accepts them, but her face remains downcast.

"What's wrong?" I ask.

"Nothing," she says unconvincingly. I decide to let it go. If she doesn't want to talk about it, I don't want to make her. I probably couldn't if I tried to anyway.

We continue walking silently along the track, hand in hand, until Haymitch comes and breaks the silence. "Great job you two. Just keep it up in the district until the cameras are gone. We should be okay." Then, without waiting for a response, he turns and walks back to the train.

I'm confused. Clearly, there's been something going on between Katniss and Haymitch that I've been left out of.

"What's he mean?" I ask Katniss.

"It's the Capitol. They didn't like our stunt with the berries," she says.

"What? What are you talking about?" I say. I hadn't been thinking of it as any sort of stunt.

"It seemed too rebellious. So Haymitch has been coaching me through the last few days. So I didn't make it worse," she says.

I'm growing more hurt and confused, suddenly aware that I've been excluded from something really important. "Coaching you? But not me," I say.

"He knew you were smart enough to get it right," she says.

"I didn't know there was anything to get right," I say. Slowly things start clicking into place. Haymitch did not need to coach me because I was already in love with her. He must have been instructing her on how to act as though she loves me too. My stomach twists and I begin to feel sick. I can feel the blood drain from my face. Has it all been a lie? "So, what you're saying is, these last few days and then I guess… back in the arena… that was just some strategy you two worked out."

"No. I mean, I couldn't even talk to him in the arena, could I?" she stammers, carefully avoiding my question.

"But you knew what he wanted you to do, didn't you?" I press, but she just bites her lip. "Katniss?" I let her hand drop as the truth starts to grip me. "It was all for the Games," I say simply.

"Not all of it," she defends.

"Then how much?" My hurt starts to flare into anger. "No, forget that. I guess the real question is what's going to be left when we get home?"

"I don't know. The closer we get to District Twelve, the more confused I get," she says. But that's still not an answer. I need to know if any of it was real, if it meant anything to her, if there's any chance of there being something in future. But she says nothing and I can't stand the silence any longer.

"Well, let me know when you work it out," I say, trying desperately to hold back the tears as I turn to make my way back onto the train. My head is spinning out of control. I walk down the passageway, trying to locate my room. When I find it, I stumble inside, shut the door behind me, and collapse onto the floor. At first, I just lay there, thinking nothing and letting the rumble of the train engine absorb me. But then it hits me all once with such a force that I feel like I've been kicked in the stomach. I can't breathe. I lay curled up on the floor holding myself, trying to make sense of it. For hours, I let the tears flow as my mind traces over all the moments Katniss and I had shared. Moments that I now know are a lie. It was all a lie! The pain is unbearable. I try to pull myself together but the despair keeps pulling me back under. I only get a brief respite when I go through waves where I just feel angry, torn apart by her betrayal, and furious with myself for believing it. Then the anger gives way to grief again and I'm wishing I could somehow stay mad.

I don't bother dragging myself to bed, but at some point, I must go to sleep because I wake up screaming Katniss's name. By the time morning comes, the tears have all dried up, and my anguish is replaced by a hollow nothingness that completely consumes me.

I don't emerge from my room until the train slows at the outskirts of District 12 station. Katniss stands alone by the window. I want to say something, but all I can muster is a slight nod as I come to stand by her side. We look out and see our rickety old platform thick with cameras. The only thing I can do now is try to follow Haymitch's instructions to "keep it up" while our every move is still being watched. After all, if he's right, then our lives are very much in danger. And even though I am unable to feel much at all, my instinct to protect Katniss remains as strong as ever. I extend my hand out to her, but she looks at me, uncertain.

"One more time, for the audience?" I say. No matter what, I'm still the boy who is willing to do anything for the girl that he loves. She takes my hand and I hold onto it tightly, ready for the cameras, and dreading the moment when I will finally have to let go.

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