Chapter Three.
Valley Of The Dolls.

In some ways, Panem was more dangerous than the arena. There was no room for mistakes in the Capitol. In this valley of plastic dolls, dressed in expensive clothes and smothered in thick makeup, their eyes stayed peeled open, never sleeping and always watching. They required nothing short of perfection, but weren't completely opposed to the idea of breaking a few bones. If a Victor were to slip up, making even the smallest of mistakes, they'd take joy in picking them apart until they were reduced to a pile of broken bones and tears.

At the end of the day the people of Panem just wanted a show. They would settle for anything that entertained them, and that included watching twenty-four broken Victors relive through their trauma only to be graphically slaughtered. There was something poetic about it, each Victor would die the same way they survived. It was sick and twisted, cruel and unfair, but the Capitol would sit comfortably from their luxurious homes, feasting on fine foods as they watched people butchered and paranoid.

Their fascination with entertainment is why the 72nd Hunger Games was a crowd favorite to this day.

Killing Careers was a difficult task. It's why everyone was so stunned when Angel Odair slaughtered three, screaming, shrieking, sobs ripping her throat raw as she slashed at their dismantled corpses until the trio became a sickening pile of unidentifiable limbs and blood. Murder weapons gripped between her dirtied hands, she stood over them like a true Victor, a champion that no one believed in but had the odds in her favor regardless.

Everyone had doubted her, having no faith in their precious Angel—the girl with not a mean bone in her body. She spent most of her game going out of her way to protect a child, placing a large target on her back. Her weaknesses were greater than her strengths. They predicted her kind heart would be torn from her chest and stomped on. Her morality and compassion made her weak, but when it was ripped away from her, dying with Luca Baron, the sweet innocent child that cried for his mother with his last breaths, Angel fell victim to the Games. She slashed and hacked away at the Careers until their blood splattered across her face, covering her soft features, seeping into her skin and marking her for life.

It was horrifying, infamously known to be one of the most graphic games by far. Tributes were murdered in many different disturbing ways, but the sheer violence exuded by Angel was unseemly. She hacked away until the corpses no longer resembled people, sickening viewers at home, some forced to look away so they did not regurgitate.

To those that were able to stomach through it, they watched as she became a statue, blankly staring at the massacre in front of her, eyes devoid of any emotion. She didn't even react when she was announced the winner, too lost in her own mind to care, breathing heavy as she gripped the machete in her hand. Then the broadcast cut off, and the next time Angel was seen she had reverted to her old self. The blood had been washed off her face and replaced with an award winning smile as she thanked the crowds cheering for her. 

Finnick saw her after her corruption, struggling to grapple the contradicting emotions flooding through him. On one hand he was beyond thrilled Angel had survived. He pitied Luca, sad the child left the world in such a painful way, but at the end of the day Finnick only cared for the health of his sister. He was fine watching everyone else die if it meant she walked out of the arena; but there was a price for her life. The Games ripped at her soul, watching her blood stain it black, allowing the monster inside Angel to be released from its cage. After her games she was able to contain it, burying the darkest parts of herself where it originated, but Finnick knew she could never truly escape it. Angel couldn't hide from herself forever. No matter how much she tried to deny the games had changed her, they had.

It worried Finnick that she did not share her troubles with him. Multiple times he had stumbled upon Angel talking to someone as she stood in empty rooms. He noticed her dissociate whenever she held an object resembling a weapon. She'd stare at herself in the mirror when her outfit revealed too much, running her hands over all the scar tissue visible to the world. The worst was the two thick slashes on her upper back, carvings from the Careers, making a mockery of Angel, giving the illusion wings had once sprouted from her back before they were ripped out.

Now, in a twist of events, Finnick found himself in a position where he could not tell all his worries to Angel. Celeste had pulled him away from his sister when no one from the Capitol was watching. While Angel busied herself writing heartfelt letters, Finnick was let in on the secret of District 13. He was told of a plan that gave him hope, one that could save his sister, but for the security of the mission, and Angel's safety, he could not tell her a word.

Finnick returned to her, swallowing the secret of the resistance, guilt creasing his attractive features as he knew she was preparing herself to die in the arena. It was unfair, depriving her of hope in such a drastic time, but if it meant she would make it out of the arena alive, Finnick would sew his lips shut until that day, just as Theo had also been instructed. Neither would utter a single word regarding District 13 around Angel.

When they entered Panem, the valley of dolls stirring with excitement as their Victors arrived, the siblings greeted their audience from the window of their train with mimicked enthusiasm. As they zoomed passed their smiling faces, excited screams fighting to be heard over the trains engine, relief washed over their faces when they were allowed to return to their normal stature.

Luckily, they were away from the public eye as they boarded off the train. No smiles were carved into their face, none of the strings tied to their hands were used to acknowledge others with graceful waves. Everything was quiet as they entered the Tribute Center.

Following Celeste, Angel walked in unison with her brother. She was anxious for tomorrow, marked as the day she would see Theo again, but tonight she was not ready to interact with anyone. She was gladly retreating behind the walls of District Four's assigned room. It brought Angel joy knowing as soon as their door closed she could slip out of the white dress she still had on and cover herself with more comfortable clothes.

Just as Angel was promised, as soon as they made it to their room, she was able to change into the soft pink pajamas placed neatly on her bed. Angel buttoned the light colored shirt, stepped into the silk long pants, and reunited with her brother who had opted to stay in his warm sweater.

The only thing left on their agenda to do today was run through the list of tributes. Angel and Finnick already knew most of them, familiar with them after all these years, but it was necessary for their survival to identify their allies and enemies.

District One and Two would make no allegiance with them. Gloss and Cashmere already held some resentment over the fact they weren't the only sibling Victor duo. What was supposed to make them stand out from the other Tributes was now something they were forced to share with Angel and Finnick. Brutus and Enobaria were no friends either. The two were reportedly looking forward to venturing back into the arena. The four Careers were Angel and Finnick's biggest threat.

District Three consisted of Beetee Latier and Wiress. Strength and combat skill wise they posed no threat, but Angel knew as well as her brother that Beetee's brain was a valuable asset. He could not survive with just his brain, just as they could not make it through the Quarter Quell with only their strength.

Theo Hawke and Naomi Kaldor, living in District Five, were Angel and Finnick's closest allies, along with Johanna Mason and Blight, from District Seven. Out of everyone, their allegiances was set in stone. The six had spent too much time with each other to not ignore the importance of their friendship over the years. And Finnick knew, at the end of the day, no matter what the circumstance, Theo would kill anyone to protect Angel.   

After that, Finnick explained that the only one people they needed to care about on the list of tributes were the most recent Victors: Katniss Everdeen and Peeta Melark. They were walking into the arena younger and less experienced and connected then everyone, but they still held their place at the table of returning tributes.

"Finnick," Angel muttered, eyes void and distant, voice faint and small. She stared out the glass walls, observing the valley of the dolls. They were sleeping peacefully in their beds, anxiously awaiting her second debut. All of them had expectations for her performance, expectations Angel never wanted to live up to. "I don't want to kill anyone—I can't."

He moved away from the screen displayed on the wall, sitting down next to her on the undeniably comfortable sofa. "Angel—"

"I know," she cut him off, already anticipating the speech he was going to give her. "I know what that means for me, but I don't see the point if I'm going to die any—"

"You're not going to die," Finnick quickly corrected. He said the statement so confidently Angel wanted to believe it was true.

She turned to look at her brother, examining the serious expression on his face. "That's not up for you to decide, Finnick. We both know how this will end."

"No," he rushed out, shaking his head. "We don't know. No one knows." Finnick sighed, returning his gaze to his sister. It was hard to look her in the eyes with the guilt racking his body. "When we're in that arena, I need you to fight. If not for yourself, than for me."

"Finnick—"

He wrapped his hands around her own, giving them a reassuring squeeze. "Trust me, Angel. We will both make it out of the arena alive."

She wanted so badly to believe him. The vow sounded so beautiful, but it was too good to be true. The Quarter Quell would separate the siblings. It would not end well for them.

There was no place Theo hated more than the Tribute Center. He despised the beautiful architecture and spotless surfaces. Everything was simply pretending to be perfect and pristine. At least the arena did not pretend to be anything but a dangerous war zone. The arena was a free for all, but the Tribute Center was a decorated cage. The building was consciously placed in the center of Panem, where all the dolls in the valley could ogle and gape.

There was no escape now. Everyone was watching.

Theo was a Capitol favorite. He was everything they wanted in a Victor: strong, attractive, and ready to kill when the time called for it. He did not shy away from the action in his games.

His first kill came easy. He dropped from the trees, landing on the the tribute below, plunging his spear directly into the aorta. Theo could not recall who he killed, and he refused to learn after his victory. Every kill from his games was blurry. Every scream was muffled, they all blended together. In the end, all his competition bled red, that was all that mattered. Their faces and names would make them human. Theo would find it much harder to live with himself if he remembered all the scared people he killed—scared kids, just like him.

He refused to admit it aloud, but Theo understand he killed himself in the games.

"You should get some sleep," Naomi suggested, walking up to Theo's side. She matched his stance, staring out at Panem around them through the obnoxiously large glass wall of their floor. "We have a big day tomorrow."

Theo continued observing the world from his glass cage, eyes vacant of any emotion. It had been a long day, and though he tried to deny it, he needed rest. "They aren't going to notice the bags under my eyes."

"No," Naomi drawled, "but she will."

He immediately tensed and then, upon thinking of her, relaxed. He even almost stopped frowning. It was a small movement, but after working with Theo for so long, Naomi knew all of him. And she knew the one thing Theo had going for him in this life was Angel Odair.

After his games, Theo's life was shrouded in darkness and despair. When he wasn't being auctioned off to the high paying citizens of Panem, he was destroying everything in his wake. Sleeping came easy to him. He hardly ever woke from an unsettling dream about his games. It was being awake and alive that tortured Theo. Angel was the only good thing about his reality.

But then, upon remembering a painful truth, his stressed expression returned. "She doesn't know about the plan," he sighed, taking the time to individually crack his knuckles. "How am I supposed to look her in the face knowing she thinks she is going to die in that arena?"

"By simply reminding herself by not telling her, you're saving her life. If the plan were to fall through, she'd be safe from the punishment of treason," Naomi countered as if she had told herself the same thing. She also cared for the girl, not just because of how she helped Theo, but because of her kind nature.

Anyone that met Angel quickly grew to love her. In a world plagued with darkness, they grasped onto the light she emitted.

Theo stayed quiet for a moment, thinking about what was to come. He knew this game could end with many of them surviving, but if their plans were to fall through, Theo was going to do everything in his to ensure he saved the girl that saved him. He could not put all his faith into a district he believed to be destroyed. "I won't let her die in there."

Naomi sighed, "I know."

He kept his gaze still locked on the world outside the glass wall. "If it comes between me and her, do whatever you have to to save her."

His mentor stayed awfully silent, listening to his words on repeat in her mind. After a minute of tense quiet, she spoke in an uncharacteristically upset tone, "You can't ask me to do that." Naomi sounded hurt; offended.

"She deserves to live," Theo argued back almost immediately.

Naomi turned to look at him, her curly hair pulled back, giving clear access to her scars. She wanted everyone to see them, reminding the world what they did to her. "So do you, Theo."

Without another word, she walked away, leaving Theo to reflect on their conversation. Naomi's apparent hurt at his neglect for his own life confused him. He did not see why she deemed worthy of him living, but he did not dwell on it, and instead returned to strategizing.

Tomorrow he would finally see her.

sage speaks!

oh my god i updated??!!!
i know. i'm sorry it took me literal months to finally write this chapter. i would write it and then get distracted and when i came back to it i realized i didn't like it and changed it. this happened like seven times on top of me working all summer and starting my first semester of college. but i finally wrote this and actually published it so yay! and if there are any mistakes pls ignore them because i kept rereading trying to make sure it was perfect and now everything looks the same to me and i just needed to publish it.

okay next chapter i promise we are getting some angel and theo interaction. since they're already "together" i needed to make you guys wait a little bit before i just kind of throw all their cuteness at you.

naomi and theo's talk is important. he doesn't even realize how much others care for him and it makes me so sad. he's oblivious to the fact naomi sees him as a son because he deems himself unworthy of love and fixates on trying to save others instead of himself. theo is just in his feels too much.

and i made memes in moments of sleep deprivation and dehydration so i can't tell if they even make sense to you guys or not!