Home Fanfics Go Back
Blight taps Johanna to relieve her of her shift in the Mentor booth, and she takes the headset off, eager to get out of there, eager to get away from watching her last Tribute limping badly through the arena. She stands too quickly and remembers she hasn't eaten in hours, her vision going black, and she sits back down before she does anything as embarrassing as passing out in the Mentor's booth.
"Anna, you alright?" Blight asks, using the nickname only District 7 used. Finnick had popularized Jo, and what Finnick says goes. Johanna's vision clears and she can see Elin look over from the 6 station, and Johanna offers her a weak thumbs up. She's fine, compared to these kids dying in the arena, what right does she have to complain?
"Just stood up too fast," she assures him, and tries again, this time with more success. He tells her to get some sleep, or drink some water, or some other fatherly advice, presumably, but she doesn't really hear it. She just nods, accepting it, knowing that she can't take it, because she has two missions now that she's off of her Mentoring shift, and that's obtaining more Euphoria, and fulfilling her bullshit obligation to Snow, to see some stupid clients.
Somehow, Blight hasn't found out. Somehow, Blight still thinks that she's off the hook, that her dead family means she can just loiter around when she's not in the booth. If only. The meeting with Snow had been so much worse than she could have predicted. Not only did he tell her she had to see clients again, he also requested she stay in the Capitol between Games beginning this year. She laughs a little, thinking about this. Blight will find out when she can't go back to 7, at least.
When Johanna leaves the Mentor's booth, Haymitch is out in the lounge, drinking at the little bar, same as usual. He looks up at her laughing to herself and she glares at him, trying to get him to back down. But it never works. His Tributes are dead now, he's got nothing better to do than to start a conversation with her. "Something funny?" he asks. He's slurring his words.
She's dizzy again, a combination of hunger and no sleep and the comedown from back to back nights of Euphoria. But she can't help it - the drug is the only thing that makes the sex with the Capitolites somewhat bearable. She raises a hand to her forehead - instinct - and closes her eyes just for a moment to try to swallow down the vertigo.
"Hey, you look terrible, come sit."
But her entire body fights against him and she can't even explain why. It's the kindness, probably. The gentleness. It makes her want to cry, and she wouldn't dare be caught crying in the Mentor's lounge. She just feels so brittle, like she could shatter just from a single act, and he might be the impetus, so she has to push him away. "No, don't touch me!"
He lets go, biting his lips as he looks her over. Then, as if deciding something, he grabs his drink and turns to the doorway. "Come on, let's walk you home."
She wants to protest calling the District 7 apartment at the Training Center 'home', but she isn't allowed to go home anymore, so she holds back the reply. This, too, is pushing her closer to the edge, so she tightens a fist and leads him to the elevator.
"You know, you're just like her sometimes," Haymitch says, and Johanna has no idea who he's talking about. The elevator comes and they step on, him pressing 7 but not 12. She hopes he doesn't plan to come in.
"Who?" she asks, as the elevator arrives on the 7th floor.
"Elin," he answers.
She thinks of the District 6 Mentor, who she had been sitting beside for hours until just 5 minutes ago. Sunken cheeks, perpetual dark circles under her eyes, quiet with a broken quality. "Your ex?" she asks. It's just a guess, but she's seen the way he looks at her. The only defense Johanna has is to push his buttons right back. She unlocks the apartment and he follows her in. She glares at him, but he doesn't back down. She just steps inside, out of view of the corridor, but not enough to have properly invited him in. This is just a quick stop, before he is sent on his way.
He nods, sipping his drink. "We had a thing for a couple cycles, after her Games. Then, well, something bad happened to her, and I didn't help matters, and we never patched things up. I already had a good taste for alcohol and she found morphling and never looked back." She wonders if he's really trying to compare them to her and Finnick, as if there wasn't another woman in their relationship from the start.
But Johanna has never heard such honesty from Haymitch, and she realizes now he wants to talk, to ask her about this mess she's gotten into with Finnick. She can't decide how honest she wants to be with him, because she can't tell how much he'll side with Finnick, in the end. Or maybe he'll just tell her she's stupid, like she already knows she is.
It's silent in the apartment, just the two of them. Blight is Mentoring, the Tributes are in the arena, there's no Avox or escort anymore, it's just them. Still, she makes no move to invite him in further. She kicks off her shoes and stays near the door. "What?" she asks, when the silence stretches too long.
"I spoke to Finnick," Haymitch says.
But what to say in reply? His words give nothing away. So what if he spoke to Finnick? What's done is done, and she's long since learned that life will always give Finnick a way out and draw Johanna the short straw. Her thoughts wander, like they always do lately when thinking about this problem, and she remembers Enobaria kissing her on the rooftop. It isn't important right now, but it's more interesting to think about than this mess with Snow and Finnick.
"Let me guess, he feels bad," she says, once the pause has gone on too long.
Haymitch's pause is enough of a confirmation that she almost laughs. "You both shouldn't have gone to Snow. What were you thinking?"
She can feel the anger building, frustration that doesn't have an outlet. "He went to Snow first. What was I supposed to do, after he offered me up like that?" she practically spits.
"We could have figured something out," he says, but his expression isn't convincing.
"Go," she says. "I have to see someone tonight, and I still need to sleep and eat and shower." She doesn't mention that she has to pick up a new packet of Euphoria, because they're already irritated enough with each other.
Haymitch finishes his drink and turns to leave, apparently having said his piece. She wonders if he feels satisfied with their conversation. "Take care of yourself, Jo."
It's a few nights later, at a private party, that the Games come to a close. Johanna was invited to attend with the Budget Secretary, a rather severe looking man named Polonius Piltner, and she had been secretly praying for the end of the Games, because that would mean tons of alcohol, drugs, and late-night debauchery, leaving her client much too tired for any real effort at sex.
She sees some familiar faces in the crowd: Finnick is there with one of Snow's aides, and Enobaria is there with another minister she doesn't know the name of. Everyone is talking and drinking and discussing the art in the gallery where the party is taking place, but this is secondary to watching the screens, where the final showdown in the arena is taking place.
Three Tributes remain: A female from District 1, a male from District 5, and a male from District 6. It's gory - the District 5 boy has an eye missing, a bloody trail where is once was, and the District 1 girl is either dehydrated or dealing with some kind of venom from the way she looks slightly delirious. The boy from District 6, however, looks more or less intact, though rather terrifying, as he has coated himself in mud from head to toe, a camouflage in the swampy arena, and probably bug and sun protection as well.
"Wow, we might get another Victor from District 6," Polonius muses.
The boy has a length of rope in his hand, and she assumes he plans to choke out his opponents. It's how she won, though she had to do it with her bare hands. It will work, if he can get the jump on them. Elin is the only living District 6 Victor, as far as she knows. This boy winning means he will be back next year to Mentor, almost certainly.
And in the end, it goes more or less as expected. He chokes out the boy from 5, and then immediately the girl from 1 attacks, knowing she has to strike quickly since she has the disadvantage. She has a knife, but no coordination, and disgustingly, the 6 boy uses the 5 boy as a human shield until she gets her knife stuck and he's able to tackle her. Then he strangles her as well, and the Games conclude. Johanna wants to cry.
She excuses herself as the champagne is brought out, making a beeline to the bathroom. It's empty but for one person: anyone who isn't a Victor wants to be out among the party-goers at this time. The end of the Games only comes once a year, after all. Johanna realizes that the one person leaning against the wall of powder room is Enobaria, breathing too quickly, her expression close to panic. It's something she's never seen before, since Enobaria is always composed, always dutiful and stoic. It's one of the things Johanna has hated about her. Now, she softens.
Johanna doesn't think, she just walks forward and leans her head against Enobaria's shoulder. It is the kind of gesture she would have given Finnick once, before these Games. But they were broken now, probably forever, and Enobaria, who once seemed so adversarial, was actually just another Victor, struggling with watching the dead kids in the Games like she was.
Enobaria rests her chin on Johanna's head and Johanna can hear her heartbeat, still too fast, but maybe a little slower and a little slower until she pulls away, still not daring to speak. She pulls the little tin from her pocket - powder morphling - and holds it out as an offering. They each take a fingertip and shove it up into their gums and then Johanna turns and leans against the wall beside Enobaria, waiting the minute or two until the drug is absorbed and everything slows down, including her thoughts, until maybe she can care just a little less about the 23 dead kids and the one whose life is about to remain a nightmare.
She thinks of kissing Enobaria, of sticking her tongue into Enobaria's mouth, of pulling her closer and closer until their bodies were pressed together. She thinks of sleeping with Enobaria, the way she used to sleep with Finnick, a salve for all the people she was forced to sleep with against her will. She thinks of falling asleep beside Enobaria, tall and lean and beautiful, maybe a little frightening, but a manageable frightening, not the incomprehensible horror of the Capitol and the Games. She wonders where these thoughts came from, since she's never considered Enobaria in such a way before. But it's no use questioning, when she can feel the tangible want.
"We better go back," Enobaria says, ever dutiful, her voice not betraying how close she had been to panicking a few minutes before. But it's like a mask has been lifted, and Johanna can see underneath her composed veneer now. She doesn't say this out of duty, but out of fear of getting in trouble from the clients who have purchased their time.
Johanna squeezes her hand, trying to do the math with her brain slowed down on morphling. Enobaria has been at this for almost ten years now. For once, she defers to authority without much push-back, though it hurts to leave this bubble where everything felt alright for a moment. "Yeah, alright."
Enobaria doesn't dare call home, certain that the phones in the Training Center are all tapped. She's known this the whole time, of course, but usually she was cautious of the things she said. She would never mention anything about Mentoring or sponsors to her mother or siblings or nieces, she would always spend the bulk of conversation talking about the food or the outfits in the Capitol, and tell them when she could be expected home. This is the first time she's had to worry about what they would say over the phone.
But the truth is that her brother was missing and she'd gone to great lengths to figure out why, only to find out from Snow himself that he was in prison for rebel activities. He was photographed, even, wearing the rebel symbol on his work jacket, so Enobaria couldn't defend him. His prison sentence was 18 months, but Snow had asked for more, for her to stay between Games for public relations campaigns, for extra entertaining, under threat to the rest of her family and her brothers work group. She had no choice but to agree.
But now she can't pick up the phone, afraid her mother might confess to knowing something about the rebels, or afraid she'll ask a question she shouldn't, or accuse Snow of being a tyrant or worse, and so to her family, both she and her brother are missing. But what else could she do? Her brother had forced this outcome when he put on the rebel badge.
She's surprised that she's not the only one left behind in the Capitol. Cashmere and Brutus both stay, Brutus for his reality television show, and Cashmere for her modeling. Johanna stays as well, which Enobaria really isn't sure the reason for, but she assumes there's another deal being made with Snow.
They consolidate the Training Center, Cashmere keeping the 1 apartment and Enobaria the 2 apartment. Brutus moves to the 3 apartment, and Johanna takes the 4 apartment. The lounge and gym stay open, and one of the two clubs stays open as well, along with the rooftop.
"You should have just moved in with me!" Cashmere says, sipping a drink on the rooftop with Enobaria.
"You'd have wanted your own space at some point," Enobaria says.
"Doubtful," Cashmere smiles. She presses the button to retract the umbrella over her chair, letting herself be fully in the sun as she lays back in a tiny two piece bathing suit.
The door thunks as Johanna steps out, sitting a few chairs away under an umbrella, rolling up a cigarette. Cashmere sits up. "Hey, Mason, why are you stuck here?"
Johanna ignores Cashmere for a few seconds, using her teeth to open up the plastic on a packet, and then she looks in their direction. "What, I can't model?" she asks.
Cashmere rolls her eyes, taking another sip from her drink while she's sitting up. Johanna was short, her brown hair not as flashy as Cashmere's blonde, and she was rather hostile in interviews. "This is obviously a punishment," Cashmere says, "Though if it's for you or for one of us, I can't be sure."
Johanna looks like she has a comeback, but the door opens once more, and seeing Brutus, she seems to decide she's outnumbered and packs her things up, going back inside. He comes to sit on the other side of Cashmere, and she settles back, once again calm.
"You didn't have to go right for her," Enobaria says, knowing even as she says it that Cashmere will become angry at her. There's an unspoken code among Careers, that they defend each other always before anyone else, and Enobaria is breaking it by questioning Cashmere. She wonders why she even spoke.
But it's Brutus, from her own District, who challenges her. "No, she needs to learn that she's not like us," he says, with such conviction that she wonders if Johanna Mason the Mentor really is a threat. Brutus leans in, as if she was still up there, listening to them. "People will always screw you and try to take what you want. You have to stop them before they have the chance."
Cashmere nods as if this is self evident.
Brutus softens to Cashmere, changing the subject. "But hey, are you going to that premiere tonight?"
She laughs. "Yeah, I have to see if Polonius makes a fool of himself again with that stupid speech. Oh, Popo."
Enobaria loses the conversation as they joke about people at the parties they attend. She never stays past the Games, she doesn't know the people they know. She doesn't know what she's expected to do here, even. She misses her family, her District, the food, her own bed. She misses not being watched all day every day. She sees the net around the Training Center roof and wonders if they'll keep it up all year. She's never really thought about killing herself, but it's hard to think about life when every day is the Capitol, a facsimile of her life during the Games.