CHAPTER EIGHT
wicked games

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         ┊͙✧˖*°࿐ ESME STANDS BEHIND IVY, JUST behind the stage of where Ivy is set to have her interview at the Victory Ceremony. Ivy stands tall, made taller by her white stiletto heels, smoothing her hands over the long dress she is wearing. It's a white dress that's supposed to mimic the icy Arena she had nearly died in a few days before. The dress's straps are made of faux ivy, and there are more fake ivy plants covering her waistline and gradually floating down against the white of the skirt. It falls just above her ankles, clearly displaying her shoes. Esme adjusts the back of her dress, it is a strapless dress, after all, and she's determined to make some finishing touches.

"There," Esme says, smiling proudly at her creation. The dress complements Ivy perfectly, and the way her blonde hair falls in gentle curls down her open back completes the look. "How are you feeling?"

Ivy turns around to face her stylist, the long, flowing skirt swaying as she does. "Slightly nauseous."

Esme smiles empathetically at her. "I know. But the worst is over for now. You've already lived through it, it's horrid to have to rewatch it, but at least you know it's over."

Ivy isn't sure that she does know it's over. Since leaving the Arena, she has been plagued by restless nights, tormented by recurring nightmares that jolt her from her light sleep. Her appetite has diminished for the most part, despite the extravagant cuisine provided by the Capitol. Random waves of nausea had been hitting her randomly throughout her days, and although she was never actually sick, she would feel the effects of the nausea for around an hour each time.

"Alright," Ivy says. "What am I supposed to do? Just sit there and watch?"

"Mostly," Esme says. "Caeser will take the lead, so don't worry. They'll show a recap of your Games on the screen, and you'll watch it along with everyone else. Caeser might pause it at times to ask for your thoughts on certain moments."

Ivy nods. Just then, the crowd roars, and Ivy glances over her shoulder to see that Caeser Flickerman has just taken to the stage, outstretching both arms as he revels in the adoration of the audience.

"Ladies and gentlemen!" his amplified voice booms, causing Ivy to startle for a moment. Esme rubs Ivy's shoulders encouragingly, mouthing a small, "Good luck." Ivy smiles in appreciation before Esme leads her towards the stage wings. It's a lonely feeling, Ivy notices. It hadn't been long ago that this very place had been filled with others, with another 23 children. Now, she stands alone, and they're all dead.

"Welcome to the Victory Ceremony of the 68th Annual Hunger Games!" Caeser declares, prompting another round of applause from the massive crowd. Ivy doesn't need to steal a glance at the audience to know the sheer mass of people that will be watching her. The thought alone makes her feel ill. Caeser waits for the applause to stop before continuing, "And now, we welcome a very special lady. Ladies and gentlemen, please welcome Ivy Bates to the stage!"

Without hesitation, Ivy follows her cue and confidently strides onto the stage, her stilettos clicking against the floor. Two familiar chairs await her, the same chairs she had occupied during her Tribute Interview. However, this time, there is the addition of the large screen that would display her Games — a three-hour, wicked recap of her Games.

Ivy smiles brightly and waves at the audience, who are hollering and cheering for her, as she had once before. She focuses on the crowd as she approaches Caeser, pretending not to notice the colossal screen behind her. With an exaggerated flourish, she exclaims, "Hello, Caeser!" as she embraces him in a hug. He returns the gesture, hugging her back, before she steps away and smiles at the audience again.

"Please, take a seat, Ivy," Caeser says, and she does as she's told, sinking into the plush and comfortable chair. It's going to be a long three hours.

"We are so happy to have you here, Ivy," Caeser says, making eye contact with her, and for a second she mistakes the look in his eyes for sincerity.

"Well, I'm happy to be here, Caeser," she responds.

"How are you feeling, right now? In this very moment?" Caeser asks her. It's a stupid question, really.

"I'm feeling amazing," Ivy responds, a wide smile permanently etched on her face. "Thank you, everyone, for being so welcoming!" At that, the crowd applauds her again, and she fakes a giggle at their response.

"Why, of course," Caeser says, his tone becoming more serious. "Now, Ivy, I can imagine you must be incredibly proud of yourself, and rightfully so. We've compiled a little recap of all the most notable events of the Games. Would you like to watch it?"

"Of course, Caeser," Ivy replies. "I would love to."

The first part of the clip is alright. It starts with the Reaping, and Ivy watches herself as she makes her way up to the stage. She watches this version of herself scan the crowd, and she feels an odd sense of satisfaction that only she knows that she was really looking for Marigold. While her life has been turned into a film of sorts, she is happy that there are things that they don't know about her.

Next is the Opening Ceremony, and Ivy feels odd watching herself on the chariots. It's even worse to consider that this had only been a few days ago, and now she was the only one left. She shakes the thought out of her head, and reminds herself to smile as she watches the ceremony, as she's certain the Capitol audience is watching her, not the recap.

Her original training score is shown, a 6. Her first interview with Caeser is shown, and Ivy cannot help but think that she does not recognise the person on the screen at all.

The next part is the most gruelling. Ivy has to consciously remember how to breathe as she watches the opening bloodbath. There she is, standing on her launch plate, scanning her surroundings. Ivy feels sick, as she's increasingly aware of what's going to happen next.

Agatha attacks her, she escapes. The boy from four, Morgan, kills Agatha by slitting her throat violently, her scream making Ivy ball her dress into a fist as she tries to take a deep breath. The compilation includes Rye as well, considering they were from the same District.

Ivy watches in horror as Ethan chases after Rye, the small boy screaming as Ethan catches up with him, stabbing him in the stomach, and watching as the boy's limp body falls to the ground. Ivy feels bile rise from her throat. She must have touched that dagger in the Games, must have held onto the weapon that had ended Rye's life.

"Now, Ivy, you were allies with Ethan," Caeser starts as he pauses the compilation, "and Rye was from your District. What did you think of that clip?"

Caeser Flickerman has just thrown her into the deep end, and left her there to drown. "Oh, well," Ivy says, not sure what to say. "I — I didn't know that Ethan had killed Rye."

"Had he not told you?" Caeser asks her, pressing for information.

"No," Ivy says. "Not that I can recall. I suppose it's the Hunger Games, though, I can't blame him." But she can. She hates Ethan. How could he have? How could he have chased the boy, been so determined to kill him? For a moment, she is glad he is dead, but regrets the thought almost immediately.

The next is all things Ivy remembers distinctly. The boy from Ten chasing her, Ethan saving her, her killing the boy from Ten.

"What was going through your mind, when you killed that boy?" Caeser asks her, once again stopping the video clip.

This time, Ivy doesn't have the power to think of a better answer, to fight against her own emotions. "That I didn't want to die," she answers shortly.

Ethan kills the girl from Seven. He attacks the girl from One, and she retaliates before he kills her. Ivy finds him, she kisses him, she kills him. It's a blur even watching it back to Ivy, as if she had a motion sickness of sorts.

"Ivy, I must ask," Caeser says, taking her hand and caressing it before he asks, "Did you love Ethan?"

Ivy wants to scream. No! She would never love someone like him. But as she looks into the audience, and sees Sylva and Thorne nodding in unison, her words betray her. "Yes, Caeser," she says, her voice cracking as a tear spills from her eye. "I did. I couldn't save him, but I tried."

"I know, dear," Caeser says, handing her a tissue to wipe her tears. She has to be careful so as not to smudge her makeup. The audience lets out a collective string of "aw" sounds, and Ivy hates the feeling it gives her.

They show the final battle between Ivy and Morgan almost in full. Ivy tries to disassociate from the video, but it's difficult. Her own screams are a weird sort of thing to listen to, and she is taken aback when they play her lying in the snow, saying sorry over and over again. She hadn't even remembered saying that, and must have forgotten the last few moments in the Arena. The cameras had obviously picked it up, and she cannot help but wonder what everyone from home had been feeling when they had watched that.

The three hours come to an end after that. Ivy isn't really in control of her movements anymore. Her legs are numb from sitting for that duration, and she isn't sure how she manages to make it off the stage. Esme welcomes her with open arms, and Ivy stumbles into her, her stylist rubbing her back quickly before whispering a small, "Take this," in her ear. She slips a small pill in her hand, and Ivy doesn't hesitate before taking it quickly.

"For your nerves," Esme mouths, smiling reassuringly at her. They share this moment of privacy before Sylva and Thorne join them.

"Well done, Ivy," Thorne says. "You're through the worst, now."

Ivy nods, her voice caught in her throat, unable to find the right words. Her mind replays the harrowing scenes from her Games, the haunting images etched into her memory. For a moment, she contemplates how much easier it would have been if she had just died in the Arena.

"We must get going," Sylva says. "It's the banquet next. Where you'll meet with President Snow."

"Okay," Ivy says. In the blink of an eye, she finds herself being escorted into a black car, enveloped by Peacekeepers. Esme walks beside her, their arms linked together. One of them opens the car door, and with Esme's assistance, Ivy eases herself into the vehicle.

The exact duration of the car ride remains uncertain to Ivy. Night has fallen, and the suffocating summer air clings to her skin. The Capitol's dazzling lights illuminate the surroundings, hinting at the lively festivities taking place. Even within the confines of the car, Ivy can hear the boisterous sounds of jubilation that resonate through the Capitol.

"This is insane," Ivy whispers over to Esme.

"You'll get used to it," Esme tells her. Ivy doesn't say anything else for the rest of the car journey.

When they arrive, Ivy's door is opened for her by a peacekeeper. She steps out, carefully placing her foot on the tarred road, and climbs out of the car. Before her stands a mansion bigger than she could have ever imagined, and Ivy cannot help but stand and stare at it for a moment. President Snow's mansion is fashioned from alabaster-white marble, and radiates an undeniable sense of pristine beauty.

Ivy waits for Esme to join her, as well as Sylva, Thorne, and Lysandra, who had come in a separate car. Sylva smiles warmly at Ivy, and says, "Let's go, Ivy, it's going to be a long night," touching Ivy's back and pushing her in the direction of the mansion.

Ivy is met with a round of applause as the crowd gathered in the front garden clears a walkway for her down the middle. Holding her dress with one hand so as to ensure the bottom doesn't get ruined, Ivy uses her other to wave at the Capitol people, putting on her best smile.

She makes it to the entrance of the mansion soon enough, and feels an odd sense of relief as the peacekeepers standing at the door open it for her, allowing her and her team to walk in as the peacekeepers stop the Capitol citizens from joining them.

This seems to be a smaller, more tight-knit event, Ivy notices. She recognises a few past Victors as she passes through the grand foyer, decorated with crystal chandeliers and marble floors. There are some Capitol celebrities that Ivy notices, and she exchanges pleasantries with them. Ivy says a small thank you as an Avox girl hands her a bottle of champagne, which she takes in her hand in disbelief, almost. She has never had champagne before, but doesn't allow herself to think much of it before introducing herself and mingling with the people there.

"Ivy," Sylva calls for her, approaching her. "I have a friend of mine I'd like you to meet."

"Of course," Ivy says to her, nodding politely. She excuses herself from the person she had been conversing with, and follows Sylva to a group of where some Victors stand. She doesn't recognise most, and assumes the Victors must be around Sylva's age, winning Games before Ivy was even born. The only one she recognises immediately is Finnick Odair, who had one a few years beforehand.

"Ivy, I'd like you to meet everyone," Sylva says kindly. "This is Finnick Odair, Haymitch Abernathy, Mags Flanagan, Beetee Latier, and Wiress Grimsby."

Ivy smiles, trying to mentally recall all of their names. "It's lovely to meet you all," she says, even though it isn't really. She feels somewhat bad for thinking it, they might be nice enough in their own right. It feels like an odd sort of mix of people, though, people she never would have spoken to if she had been at home in Nine. She has no common ground with these people except that they were in the Hunger Games, too.

"It must be nice to finally have a victor from Nine, eh, Sylva," Haymitch Abernathy says. Ivy notes how, against the polished elegance of the mansion itself, he stands out as haggard. Dishevelled strands of greying hair frame his face, his eyes worn and tired. While everyone politely sips from their champagne glasses, his hands grip a silver flask, that Ivy presumes must hold something strong with the way he slurs his words.

Sylva nods politely, smiling as she responds, "Yes, it is. I'll finally get to retire from being a mentor."

"Cheers to that," Haymitch says, holding up his flask. The rest of the victors clink their glasses against each other, and Finnick meets Ivy's eyes and raises his eyebrows as their glasses touch. Ivy feels slightly uneasy — they are celebrating Ivy's ill fate of having to become a mentor.

Ivy is almost happy when she feels a tap on her shoulder, and when she turns, it is a peacekeeper. "Miss, would you please follow me?"

Ivy turns back to the group of victors, saying, "If you'll excuse me," before turning back and following the peacekeeper. She doesn't say anything on the walk, although she does smile at a few people and briefly shake hands with some as the peacekeeper leads her through the mansion and up a flight of stairs that seem to go on forever.

When she reaches the top, she can see everyone below her. There is a single chair, with a tall back and intricate carvings of roses. Next to the chair, there is a stand of sorts, that holds a red pillow and a golden crown. The peacekeeper commands her to take a seat, and so she does as she's told, her gaze fixing on the crown even as she sits down.

Soon, President Snow takes to the elevated stage where Ivy sits, and she immediately stands as she's been taught to throughout her life. He doesn't even look at her at first, addressing the crowd as he waves at them. He is wearing a tailored suit, with material Ivy had never even seen before.

"Good evening, everyone," President Snow starts, the crowd falling silent all at once, "and thank you for joining us here tonight. It is my honour to crown the victor of the 68th Annual Hunger Games."

This warrants a polite applause from the audience, before they become silent again. President Snow smiles as he wordlessly makes his way to Ivy, who has remained standing. His eyes lock on hers, and Ivy notices how snakelike he looks in real life, unlike over the television. He smiles sinisterly, picking up the crown in his gloved hands.

Ivy bows her head ever so slightly, allowing for President Snow to place the crown on her head. This warrants a louder round of applause from the crowd, and Ivy feels somewhat sick.

"Congratulations," he says to her.

"Thank you," she replies shortly. And then, she's being escorted by Peacekeepers back down the stage, the crown still intact on her head. She feels silly wearing it, silly as everyone claps for her as she descends the stairs.

Esme is waiting at the bottom for her, and wraps her in a hug. "Well done, sweetheart," Esme says, squeezing her gently.

"How much longer do we have to stay?" Ivy asks her. She supposed it is a stupid question. She will always have to spend time at the Capitol from now on, she will have to return every year to mentor and for these ridiculous parties. She longs for the familiar feeling that home brings her, and wonders if she will ever truly feel it again.

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author's note !
omg this chapter was actually so long but i really like it!! i'm not crazy about the ending but oh well. what did you all think of it? we only have two more chapters left of this act, i am VERY excited for the next act of this story 🫶🏻🫶🏻

thank you for reading, i very much appreciate it ❤️‍🩹 if you enjoyed, please consider leaving a vote or a comment to let me know <3