District 12 has never cheered so loudly for someone they barely knew.

The district winner, Lucy Gray Baird, stood in front of the Justice Building, standing in her mother's rainbow-colored dress, with her hands tightly gripped into fists.

The victor's crown of faded cloth laurel and white flowers was placed on her lopsided curly brown hair by the very man, the mayor of the district, who had purposely reaped her and begun this entire nightmare for her.

But she held her head high, smiling so graciously in front of him and the cameras that broadcast the entire event to not just her district, but to all of Panem and the Capitol. And though she smiled, charming like a Mockingjay that sang their tune high in the sky, her eyes held no music in them now. For they had become dull like the murky brown water of the arena. For the same murky, lifeless color, she saw drain away from Jessup's face and all the other children who were reaped into the game.

Victory, as she had learned, didn't feel like a win.

--

It has been almost a month since Lucy Gray returned home. The Covey had welcomed her back, the cries and the music filled her ears as her cousins and friends hugged her and cradled her like a child ready to fall asleep. Though they try to make sure nothing from the past would affect them, they can see that Lucy Gray has changed.

But the young woman tried to keep herself the same. She may have ruffled her feathers once or twice, but she could never become a caged bird. She was free! Free as the wild and untethered by anyone back in the Capitol, like a certain snake awaiting her.

She would pick up her guitar again. Try to wear the bright colors of her mother's old dresses and keep the music alive inside her as she sang and danced on the rickety wooden stage of the taverns. Daylight was where she shined the brightest with her charmed crooked smile and her voice sweet as fresh honey from the wildflowers that grew in her meadows.

But at night, the memories come back to her.

The cries, the cannon firing, the hanged boy from District 2 on the wall, and the brightly colored snakes that slithered all over her skirt. The smell of roses and the scales that scraped her skin were too real as they drowned out her crying voice.

So she walked. Dead of the night, when the Peacekeepers were half-asleep and the people had all gone home, she would leave her home and slip underneath the fence that surrounded District 12.

The moonlight bathed her like no water could, as the faded orange shawl she wore wrapped her tightly like a blanket. Her boots softly crunched the wet grass as she ventured further into the woods to come across her meadow.

That was until she saw you.

You sat between the wildflowers underneath the oak tree with your knees touching your chest, the shadow of the tree covering your face. You didn't flinch when she showed up, just staring ahead at the dark night.

“Didn’t expect anyone else out this way,” she said softly, her accent light and musical—though the tune behind it had long since soured.

You didn’t answer at first. Then, quietly, without looking at her, you said, “I come here when I can’t sleep. It’s quieter than home.”

She stepped closer, hesitant, unsure. “I know you.”

You turned your head finally. The grief in your eyes made her stomach twist. “Jessup's my brother. Was my brother.

Lucy Gray froze. She didn't say nothing but just stared at your face. She can see the resemblance- of course she could. How could she not remember the face of the boy that was reaped alongside her and became her ally in the arena. The one who had died so she could live and sing his tune for all to hear.

But that song won't be sang until she could face the music that sits besides her underneath the oak tree. Lucy Gray hugged her shawl tighter around her shoulders. “Sometimes I think I’ll wake up and be back in the train car. Or worse—in that arena. Like I never left.”