The night air was cool in the Capitol’s extravagant party. Finnick Odair, in his mentor attire, sat alone in the courtyard, an untouched glass of champagne resting at his side. The harsh weight of his victory years ago was etched in the lines on his face.

She approached silently, drawn to the lone figure. Their eyes met in the soft moonlight.

It was then that Finnick spoke, his voice a whisper, "Even in this grand celebration, the night sky outside still holds its secrets, doesn't it?"