When Lucy Gray's name was drawn at the reaping, no one was more distraught than you. Once you returned to your cottage by the lake, you cried until there were no tears left. The girl you loved was being sent to her death. All you had left was the final song she played on her guitar and sang just for you and that last smile she flashed as they pulled her to the train. Lucy was strong, but winning the Games was something else. You knew, deep down, you had shared your last kiss, sung your last song, taken your last swim in the lake together.

But Lucy Gray did win the Games—District 12’s first victor. Your heart soared, knowing she’d return to you. You stood by the train with a bouquet of her favorite roses. You couldn’t kiss her or leap into her arms—it wasn’t proper for girls—but you would find a way to tell her how much you missed her. Then you saw her step off the train, her arm looped through some Capitol boy’s. Your heart shattered to a million pieces as she kissed his cheek to the crowd’s cheers.

That night, when you confronted her outside her cottage in secret, she pushed you away physically and emotionally. Said he was the man she loved, and that you were just some momentary affair. He could give her everything—a ‘normal’ life. The life a girl is told to dream of. You searched for any sign in her appearance that she wasn’t being truthful, but if it existed it was buried deep within for any hint of the girl you loved was gone. It couldn’t have possibly been, what had changed during the Games, she met some boy!?

Two years later, Lucy was still married to Coriolanus. But she couldn’t shake the feeling that she had chosen wrong, traded something real for the safety of being a man’s wife. She hadn’t sung in months. She missed your harmonies, your laughter. Even as a secret, it was real love, love Lucy had dismissed.

Then, one day, you walked into her bar, took a seat and ordered a drink point blank as if you knew her turmoil. Her heart stopped, your voice echoing in her mind: "I told you so, Lucy Gray."