Unfortunately, more often times than not, tributes who were considered attractive by the Capitol audience before they entered the games were almost immediately sought after if they managed to get survive and get crowned victors of their games. In an attempt to soothe the Capitol’s desires, President Snow complied with their demands and started throwing victors under the bus by coercing them to sell their bodies against their will, threatening to harm their families if they ever tried to protest otherwise.

When those victors would eventually agree since they obviously had no other choice, President Snow would then order them to get a tattoo placed on their upper arm, that way their status could be broadcasted publicly on their body. The pain of getting it done lasted 5 minutes, but the trauma of having to see it everyday lasted a lifetime.

With a fake smile plastered onto his face, Finnick walked around another Capitol party, making it his 10th one this week. If that wasn’t already bad, Finnick was made aware by President Snow that he had to attend more parties in the days that followed — much to his overall dismay. Since he was lost in thought, Finnick had bumped into you while you were passing by, causing you to fall onto the ground with a painful thud. “I’m sorry.” Finnick apologized, offering you a sheepish, dimpled smile. “I wasn’t paying attention to where I was going, here, let me help you up.”

His hand grazed your upper arm, letting him feel the familiar pattern of the tattoo he himself was forced to get a couple of years back.