Chapter Text
i: first time
Remember once I told you 'bout
How before I heard it from your mouth
My name would always hit my ears
As such an awful sound
Camille Holloway is not a victor that the Capitol wanted. Half of her face is marred with a nasty burn scar which is hidden away with a mask. She won the Games at 16 with an evaluation score of five and survived with only having one sponsor, a very unlucky scenario yet she had emerged victorious–the underdog of underdogs. Still, with such a grand title, the Capitol didn't pay her any mind. At the last leg of her Victory Tour, a grandiose party in the Capitol, she was swamped with the usual pleasantries every victor had but none that lingered for her company.
After the initial hustle and bustle of the Capitolites and ceremonies done, she finds herself at the bar, sitting politely next to a hunched figure who was downing his shot of alcohol. “Aren't you a bit too young for alcohol, sweetheart.”
Camille perks up a bit before replying, “it's juice.”
The man’s face scrunches, “that's not good.” He asks the bartender for some gin before gesturing for her to come closer. As she did, he had dumped some of the alcohol into the juice. “It'll make you feel better.”
She grimaces but relented yet before she could take a sip, a hand covers the glass and pushes it back on the bar.
“A bit too quick on the uptake, Haymitch?” a smooth voice said from right next to her. Camille looked over to see a familiar teen boy. His golden hair intentionally tousled against his sun kissed skin, sea green eyes staring pointedly at the man next to her.
The man–Haymitch rolled his eyes at him. “It's for her own good.” he grumbled, taking a swig of the drink that she had just put down.
This time it's the boy's turn to roll his eyes, his head turning towards Camille with a charming smile. “I believe I haven't introduced myself,” he starts, “My name's Finnick Odair.” He reaches his hand out to her which she takes, shaking it lightly.
“I know, I'm Camille Holloway.” She smiled up at him, he smirks.
“I know.” A beat of silence passes over them as the song transitions. Camille’s hand goes over the mask settled on the right of her face, feeling the texture–and subconsciously making sure it's covering her scar–a habit which predated the existence of the mask. Instead of the ripples of burn marks, she is met with rough and sturdy fabric. Finnick gazes at her softly before leaning closer. “May I ask you for a dance?”
A scoff rumbles near them which the pair decides to ignore as Camille takes his hand. “It would be my pleasure.”
Finnick’s grin widened as he carefully led her to the dance floor. One hand on her waist while the other gently lifts her hand up a few inches away as they sway to the beat. They're quiet for a moment.
“I'm sorry about your tributes.” Camille starts, her voice barely a whisper as she looks up at him with an apologetic look.
Finnick's smile softens a bit. “Don't worry about it.” He whispers. “It's the games. I didn’t even mentor them, just observed. Next year is when I actually start mentoring. Plus, it's not like you're the one who killed them.”
Camille lightens up a bit. “Thanks… it's all just been weighing down on me these past couple of days.”
He hums in understanding. “I get it.”
“Does it ever get better? You've been here for a year. How is it?”
Finnick purses his lips before shaking his head. “Honestly, I don't think it ever will. To be fair, I just drag myself out of the nightmares and try to find relief when I wake up. I try to think about my family and how they're enjoying our home back in Four.” He pauses, eyebrows furrowing as he continues–his voice determined. “I don't want them to think they own me, you know?” He glanced around and Camille nodded, her mask weighing heavier on her face. “I’m still the same boy, a bit different but the same.”
“I understand.” She whispers, smiling sheepishly which he returns. “It's kinda foreign, isn't it?”
He barely holds back a laugh. “Don't worry, you can say weird.” she rolls her eyes. “You kinda get used to it. I've been called here several times now to attend parties and mingle and whatnot. My mom doesn't like it. Says I’m just fifteen and I should be in bed.” The both of them laugh at that. “It's fun though, I get to eat a bunch of different food, meet some friends, and learn about Capitol etiquette.” He finishes with an over exaggerated posh accent.
She shakes her head at him, biting down her laughter. For a moment, the both of them just stare at each other. It's his turn to break the silence.
“So…” he trails off rather shyly, “how long have you been painting?”
This was in reference to the talent she showcased in one of her post-victory interviews. She had painted a picture of a sunset from her arena. The white snowy ground was littered with various colorful plants and fruits, edible and poisonous alike, and the frozen lake sits nicely between them with glimmers of the sun reflecting off it. Caesar called it absolutely stunning and further highlights the beauty of the games.
“A few years now,” she answers, “it has been the only thing holding me up these past couple of years.”
Finnick nodded solemnly, a pang of regret blossoming from his features at the circumstances of Camille’s life. “I’m–”
“It's okay.” She cuts him off with a shrug. The fact that she was an orphan hadn't bothered her in years but after getting reaped in the Hunger Games and having her business aired out for everyone to see, she's been hearing condolences left and right. “It's been years now. Plus, it's not like you're the one who killed them.” The callback to his previous quip made the boy smile once again. The endless chatter didn't die there. As they sway absentmindedly, their conversations jump from their favorite colors to questioning the existence of certain Capitol food. It was only when the music ended did they realize how much time had passed.
“Do you want to get out of here?” He asked with a hopeful expression. Camille's heart flutters before nodding.
“Is that allowed?”
“Honey, it's your party." he exclaims as if it's a given. "I think you can get away with anything. We've been here for hours, all the other younger victors already left.” She scanned the room and sure enough not another teen was in the crowd. Just her and Finnick. “Go tell your team. I'll meet you at the entrance.”
The both of them step away from each other, smiles plastered on their faces as Finnick takes her hand and plants a kiss. The action seemed to heavily reflect on her face-the heat picking up-as he winked at her.
On the other side of the party, by the window of the manor, cold blue eyes watched the exchange with suspicion and a tinge of annoyance.
Camille waited by the archway as Finnick instructed, her forehead growing a bit sweaty from all the festivities. She reached her hand up to her mask, turning off the switch for the adhesive before swiftly running her handkerchief over the half of her face. Dabbing the surface quickly then wiping the fabric on the inner side of her mask before swiftly placing it back on her face. She walked over by the fountain to check her appearance at the river, making sure her mask was in place. She flipped the switch back on, the mask clinging to her skin. She pulled it a few times to make sure before turning around to see Finnick walk towards her.
“Come on!” He calls out, taking her hand in his as they dashed through the sidewalk to the Tribute Centers. A few Capitolites roaming the streets spotted them and would call out their names. Camille flashed them a smile and waved with her free hand while Finnick did the same. This caused the people to cheer with glee, snapping pictures and waving their hands frantically.
It was only after they stepped through the entrance of the Center that they have time to catch their breath, panting in unison before looking at each other and bursting in laughter. “That… was… crazy!” She said in between pants.
They make their way towards the elevator, Finnick pushing the button for the floor reserved for District Four. The ride up was quiet but not awkward. Before winning her games, Camille didn't have the time to actually look at the glamour of the Capitol-too busy drowning in anxiety.
Meanwhile, Finnick's heart was bursting in his chest. Was it the cardio or something else? He didn't know. Still, he couldn't fight back the smile growing on his face as he looked over to Camille. Her eyes wide with wonder and lips slightly parted in awe. He takes her in, her brown doe eyes illuminated by the city lights to the white mask resting on the other side of her face. He observed the exposed unmarred skin, smooth cheeks with a mole resting near her eye. Her dark hair was half up in a bun, the rest curled and flowing down past her shoulders.
The elevator dinged, snapping him out of his reverie. “How about a quick detour?” He said before closing the door before it could fully open and pressing the button for the roof. She shot him a questioning look. “Don't worry, you'll love it.”
They make their way to the roof and Camille couldn't hide her excitement. The garden on the roof was breathtaking. Different flowers littered the bushes and trees with different fruits adorned the edges. They walk along the path, Camille taking the lead while Finnick follows behind her. Her fingers trail over the surface of the shrubs, stopping from time to time to look closely at the flowers. Finnick observed her, offering her the names of the flowers he knew. She already knew the names but doesn't stop him, feeling a tinge of joy as he tells her the name of another familiar flower. As they continued their trek to the end of the garden, she gasped as she walked quickly to the edge. She leaned closer to the railing, taking in the bright sight of the Capitol. The city very much alive in the dead of night. Hues of pinks, purples, and blues shone through the various buildings and houses. A firework display scheduled for the whole night littered the sky with more bursts of light.
“Why is it so pretty?” She whispered breathlessly, looking at the city in confusion and frustration. A city who perpetuates the death of hundreds of children. A city who fuels fire to the trauma of the victors. A city so cruel, that all it knows is to take and take from the districts. Why?
Finnick walks closer towards her, looking over the Capitol then to her conflicted expression. “I don't know.” He answers truthfully. A few minutes of quiet pass by. “Wanna come back down?”
Camille took one last look at the Capitol before nodding. She followed him back to the elevator.
“Did you like it?” he asked as they went inside.
“Yes.” She answered. It was beautiful. That she can say truthfully, so colorful and bright and happy. In a peaceful world, she wouldn't have hated it. “I liked it.”
Finnick smiled at that. They spent the night in District Four’s living room, watching movies stacked on the walls, only picking out the ones with interesting titles and covers. They've ordered up a bunch of snacks and sodas and bundled themselves in blankets, sitting side by side with eyes locked on the screen as the climax approaches. Mags woke up halfway through the second movie, focusing her eyes at the two of them before giving a smile.
“Hi! I hope it's okay I'm here, ma'am.” Camille spoke up politely. Mags nodded her head in understanding, taking a shaky step forward. Camille and Finnick sprung to their feet automatically, one on each side of the woman guiding her. Mags huffs at the gesture good naturedly and places her hands on their waiting palms. She sat near the counter, Camille on standby making small talk while Finnick got her water. After finishing her glass, Finnick looks over to Camille and flashes her a smile.
“Don't worry, I got it from here. You go back to the movie and I'll be there in a bit.” Camille nodded before making her way back to the couch. Wrapping the blanket over her shoulders, she finds herself becoming too tired to sit upright–gently sinking on the edge of the sofa and resting her head on the pillow by the arm rest.
Moments later, Finnick comes back just in time to watch the two leads get separated by a hurricane. He mimics her position on the opposite side of the couch, shifting slightly to get into a more comfortable position. They sit in comfortable silence, only making noise through short comments on the movie and grabbing some of the snacks strewn on the table. As the credits roll, Camille feels herself grow more lethargic.
“What is District Five like?” Finnick speaks up. Eyes boring into her with curiosity.
Camille looks up at the ceiling and tries to visualize home. “One of the biggest similarities Five has with Four is the water, Five is basically surrounded by water.” She starts, “we have a beach in the west and hydraulic dams in the east. And there's a bunch of lakes at its borders. Since we power the whole country, we have a bunch of different power plants across the district so when you walk along the roads you'll see windmills from a distance and the shipments of coal from Twelve zoom past the streets. Each area has one or two plants in them where most people worked. I worked as an errand girl in some of them so I get the basic gist of how some of them worked.” her smile disappeared before continuing. “The difference between Five and Four, I suppose, is how dark and gloomy Five is. There’s a thick layer of smoke from the plants which makes the sky inevitably darker compared to other districts. Because of that, lots of people from Five build up a tolerance over the smoke but lots of the young ones grow sick while building it up and the smoke catches up to the old ones soon enough. Not to mention the nuclear plants.
My mother used to run an apothecary near the square and she used to teach me everything she knew. Five had a lot of different plants and herbs which made it easier for me in the arena. Before they died, I could pretty much run the whole place by myself…” she remembered her mother, grinding out herbs to make an ointment for one of their regulars. She remembered her father, bursting through the door after a long day's work. She remembered removing her bag filled with foraged plants for her mother's concoction. “You should visit sometime, if you want.” She added quickly.
“I want to.” He replied, staring up at the ceiling now as well.
“What's it like at Four?” Camille asked.
Finnick sighed in content. “Where do I even begin?” He muses. “Like you said, we have the sea. At the crack of dawn, the fishermen would crowd the beaches and ships would line the docks. You’d wake up to the sound of the waves and seagulls. The sunrise by the beach is gorgeous. We have this coming of age ceremony, where the teens who just finished their final reaping would have a bonfire by the beach and watch the sunrise a day after the reaping. I remember seeing them cook fish by the fire and dance around it while singing songs.” he chuckles at the thought, almost wistfully. “There’s a cliff up north, with the most amazing view of the beach and below it there's a cave. At the square is where my mom works to sell the fish my dad catches. I told them they didn’t have to work anymore but they’re so stubborn.”
“They sound lovely,” Camille whispers.
“You can visit us, if you want.” He replied. “My sister would love you. She’s very into art, and she liked the painting you did during the interview.”
“I’ll go if I can.” Her voice sounded groggy, sleep creeping over her body.
“Let’s wait for each other then.” He said softly, earning a hum of agreement from the girl. “Goodnight, Camille.”
“Sweet dreams, Finnick.”