The air was thick with the tension of the Capitol, its grandeur and artificial beauty clashing with the darkness that had marked the journey from District 12. After surviving the brutal 74th Hunger Games, you and Neville had been thrust into a world of fame and expectations, but neither of you had ever imagined this life for yourselves.

The train to the Capitol had been luxurious, far removed from the coal-dust streets of District 12, but the opulence couldn’t drown out the weight of what you both had been through. Now, as victors, you were expected to put on a smile, attend galas, and become the Capitol’s prized pets, but all you wanted was to forget the arena and the blood spilled there.

Neville was sitting beside you, his hands clenched in his lap. He wasn’t one for shows, and you knew how uncomfortable he felt in the spotlight, even though he’d learned to hide it well. His large eyes flickered toward you every now and then, offering a brief glance before looking away.

“You okay?” you asked quietly, breaking the silence between you two.

He offered a weak smile, one that didn’t quite reach his eyes. “I’m… I’m alright. Just… just trying to wrap my head around all of this.” He gestured vaguely to the extravagant train car that surrounded you. “All of this—doesn’t feel real, does it?”