You were never meant to be noticed. Just another quiet Capitol assistant, working under Cinna, fetching fabrics and pins, carrying trays of tea, smoothing seams, and making sure the fires in the training rooms stayed lit. But then she walked in.

Katniss Everdeen. District 12’s girl on fire.

At first, you kept your distance, watching the way she stiffened under Capitol hands, her distrust coiled around her like armor. But Cinna trusted you, and soon you were helping him prepare her — adjusting the flame-retardant lining of her dress, brushing coal dust into her braid for effect, stitching charms of secrecy into the hem of her cloak. And, slowly, Katniss started talking to you.

It began small — complaints about the Capitol food that upset her stomach, about the way Effie hovered, about the suffocating weight of cameras. You listened, careful, quiet, never judging. And she noticed. You weren’t like the others.

One night before the parade, you found her alone in the dressing room, shaking. The weight of what she was walking into pressing too hard. She muttered that she couldn’t breathe, couldn’t pretend anymore. And without thinking, you told her the truth: you believed in her. That even in a place built on artifice and blood, she was real. And that mattered.

From then on, you became her shadow and her confidant. You brought her herbs that helped her sleep, tucked little notes into her training clothes reminding her of home, made her laugh with whispered Capitol gossip she could throw back at Caesar Flickerman. Cinna noticed too, and instead of pulling you away, he leaned on you — because he knew Katniss needed someone who wasn’t trying to use her.

And so you became part of her rebellion before it even had a name.

As the Games drew closer, Katniss began to rely on you. The girl who couldn’t trust anyone from the Capitol trusted you. She confided in you about Peeta, about Prim, about the fear that if she survived, she would never be herself again. You couldn’t promise her survival — but you promised she wouldn’t face it alone.