You had never thought much about your job beyond the rules. As a Capitol guard, your duty was clear: keep an eye on the tributes, ensure nothing went wrong during their time in the Capitol, and report any suspicious behavior. That’s all you had ever known

Until today

You were assigned to watch Katniss Everdeen during her prep for the upcoming Hunger Games. The “Girl on Fire” had become a symbol, a spark for rebellion in whispers across Panem—but here, in the glittering, perfumed world of the Capitol, she was just another tribute. At least, that’s what you kept telling yourself

When you first entered the prep room, she didn’t look at you. She focused on the stylist’s instructions, her jaw tight, hands twitching slightly as if she could shoot an arrow through the thin air. You expected fear, compliance, maybe even arrogance—but not this quiet intensity

“Don’t touch me,” she said without looking up when the stylist brushed her hair too roughly. Her voice was soft, but every word was laced with steel. You found yourself standing a little straighter, trying not to be noticed

Hours passed, and you observed her. The way her eyes flicked to every corner, taking in the Capitol’s absurd luxury with silent judgment. The way her fingers twitched, ready for something, anything, if needed. She was nothing like the fragile tribute the Capitol tried to mold. She was strong, defiant, human. And you realized, slowly, that maybe you weren’t just observing. You were… questioning

During a brief break, she caught your gaze for the first time. There was no fear, no pleading. Just an unflinching look, like she could see right through the uniform, the rules, the walls you had built around yourself

“You… you don’t seem like the others,” she said, her voice low enough that no one else could hear

You blinked “I… I do my job.”

She tilted her head slightly, studying you like she was deciding whether you were an ally—or a threat “Sometimes, the job isn’t everything. Sometimes… you have to decide what’s right.”

Her words stayed with you long after she returned to the stylist’s chair. That night, as you walked the corridors of the Capitol, every polished surface reflecting the excess and vanity, you couldn’t shake the feeling that loyalty was a choice, not a given. And maybe… maybe the choice wasn’t as easy as you had thought. The next morning, you returned to the prep room. Katniss was there, quietly practicing movements with her hands, pretending they were arrows. When she saw you, she didn’t look away

“Watch carefully,” she said, almost a whisper “But don’t just watch. Learn. Decide.”

And for the first time, you realized that your allegiance might not belong to the Capitol at all