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KILL FOR YOUR LOVE.

act two. 

(chapter eighteen, neither daughter nor father moved)

victor's village, 75 ADD.

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"I UNDERSTAND WHY YOU punched Brent, I really do, Juniper."

"I didn't come here for your understanding."

"Then why are you here?"

"... Finnick is busy."

Lucy Stevens rolled her eyes as she blew on a steaming hot mug that was filled to the top with a beige liquid. Juniper also had one in her grasp, hands cupped around the porcelain, the heat soothing her cuts and scars on her palms as well as giving her a sense of comfort. For some reason, Juniper liked hotness. It required her with the facts that she still felt things.

"So I am, what, a second choice?" Lucy asked as she finally took a sip of her tea. She was standing behind the counter, Juniper on a stool as they conversed in the older woman's kitchen, which seemed to be much brighter than Juniper's ever was. 

"Yes." Juniper nodded with no remorse. She liked Lucy, she did, but she desperately wanted to speak to Finnick although she knew he was out with Annie back in District Four. "Yes, you are."

"I'll take that." Lucy shrugged. "But back to Brent... you punching him in-front of everyone really shook him up."

"Good." Juniper scoffed as she gingerly took a sip from her mug. She cherished the burning feeling as the tea went down her throat. "He's a jerk, Lucy."

"Oh, I know," she said. "I'm not disagreeing... but he is young. The younger Victors' are always naive."

"First off, ouch," Juniper replied. "And secondly, Brent is not young."

"He's twenty-five."

Juniper looked up from her cup, eyes wide as she spoke with disbelief, "There is no way. He looks nearly Haymitch's age."

"The effects of alcohol and morphling." Lucy smirked and Juniper felt a little twinge in her heart knowing she had gotten drunk out of her mind a few weeks ago. "But yes, twenty-five. He won seven-years-ago now at eighteen."

"Right, the Sixty-Eighth..." Juniper nodded slightly. "Damn, I forgot about that... huh."

"Yep," Lucy replied. "He's only five-years older than you."

"That's not comforting."

"It's not supposed to be."

Juniper narrowed her eyes at her mentor before looking back down at her tea. She did like Lucy, she really did, but she rather preferred her when she barely spoke, when she was so distant and faint. She was more upbeat now, more lively that it really did a number on Juniper. And not only was it that, she was always transported back to three-years-ago whenever she first saw Lucy in the mornings. The woman had not aged a day that it was like she had time-travelled to that time. She had not, of course, because Justice was still dead. And so was Cedar. And Ash. And Wing and Hermes. And Leona. And Rayon. And Dallas. 

"You excited for the mandatory viewing?" Lucy hummed, causing Juniper to exit her daydreaming. 

"If it's about that damn wedding, no," she replied. "Damn brats... two Victors'. Two damn Victors', Lucy. That's not supposed to even be possible—"

"That's why you're upset." Lucy nodded. "I knew you didn't like the wedding, but you're angry because there was two winners."

"No-one wins, you of all people should know that." Juniper scoffed. "And yes, that's why I'm pissed off. Two Victors'. We've been told since day one that there is only one. But no, goddam Seneca Crane had to change that—"

"Well, he's dead now."

"Good!" Juniper snapped. She felt that bubble of anger simmer in the depths of her stomach again. "He deserves to rot... and they were from the same district as well. Twelve get's two Victors' whilst what? Just lays fucking dead in the cemetery?"

Lucy blinked slightly. The only time Juniper ever spoke her dead brother's name was when she was about to have an outburst. It was the anger that always numbed the pain that her twin was dead. It was only when she was really riled up, when she started to yell, that she would speak about Justice Hale. If it were any other day or any other emotion, she could barely mutter his name. It was only now that Lucy set down her mug. 

"It's not fair, Lucy."

"Life isn't fair, Juniper," she replied softly. "Life is cruel and the people within it are as well."

"... so what's the point?" Juniper snapped. "What is the point?"

Lucy stayed quiet for a moment. She could see the tears building up in the woman's eyes and realised that this wouldn't be an outburst of anger. It was a moment where Juniper Hale let the wall she had so securely built up fall temporarily, showing her vulnerability. Lucy had only seen it a handful of times, Orion and Finnick being the main witnesses, but she had heard stories of it and she knew it wasn't a pretty sight. 

"Juniper," she whispered in return. "The point is... despite all the cruel and nasty people... there are good ones out there—"

"No there's not." Juniper was quick to shake her head, swirling her tea in the mug. She tried to blink back the tears and any evidence of vulnerability evaporated. "They don't exist."

"But they do," Lucy answered. "There are genuinely good people out there, Juniper. You just have to try and find them. That's the point."

All Juniper could do was stare at Lucy. She didn't know if she was a genius or an idiot. She supposed both because whilst she admired Lucy Steven's giddy optimism, she did not believe it. There were no good people in the world. No-one had a heart made of gold. Juniper knew that. There was no person in this cruel, dark world that was pure good. It was impossible.

Juniper stayed quiet for a few more moments before muttering, "Well... this was nice, but I have to go if I don't want your giddy optimism infecting me."

"Well, I've never been good at giving advice."

"Yeah, you never were and never will be, Lucy."

"Thank you," the woman mumbled. She didn't seem affected by Juniper's comment and continued to sip her tea. Whatever soft, vulnerable moment they just had, even if it was fleeting, it was soon forgotten about. 

Juniper sighed. "Look... can you order new plates for me? I don't think my father has gone around to it yet—"

"I saw your father today," Lucy said, quickly interrupting her. "He's already got new ones."

"Oh."

"He's a good guy, Juniper," the older woman said. "He cares about you... he'll do anything for you."

"Oh, lucky me."

"Don't roll your eyes." Lucy scoffed. "You're lucky to still have family. You're the only Victor in Ten that does—"

"I'm not having this conversation with you." Juniper quickly gulped the entirety of her tea, cherishing the burning feeling once more as she got up from her stool. "I am not."

"I'm just trying to make you realise how lucky you are."

"Oh, piss off, Lucy," Juniper grumbled to herself. "Thanks for the tea."

Lucy didn't respond and if she did, the Hale woman didn't hear her, for Juniper was quick to leave her mentor's house. Nearly every conversation that the two had ended in the older Victor trying to make the younger one realise that there were good people in the world, that there was hope. It was a stupid theory and Juniper knew that. She of all people knew there was no good, pure heart in this world. There just wasn't. End of story.

And if there were good people, which there weren't, the idea of them would make Juniper sick to her stomach. How can they be good and she can't? How can they live their lives with no idea of pain whilst she drowned in it? How can they lead happy lives whilst she debated ending hers everyday?

And suddenly, everything led back to the 'star-crossed lovers' from District Twelve. 

How can they both live? How can they become married, which was obviously a Capitol scheme but nonetheless, and grow old together? Sure, they might have been forced to, a thing they conceived up to survive the arena, but Juniper despised them. The thought of Katniss Everdeen and Peeta Mellark made her sick. It made her want to scream. The Capitol, in all its glory, allowed two lovers to survive, but not twins? Yes, Juniper was not a good person and that she knew, but Katniss Everdeen and Peeta Mellark were not much better. 

Juniper thought about this and she thought about it hard. There were many things in her depressing, painful life that made her completely upset and angry, but the topic of good people and the star-crossed lovers from District Twelve enraged her more than anything. That's why she smashed the plates and, partly, why she resorted to punching Brent Higgins instead of leading him away. Sometimes her anger got too much, filled her up too much that she needed to let it out. But then there was the joyful realisation that Katniss Everdeen and Peeta Mellark were star-crossed. They were thwarted by bad luck and doom and that statement alone made Juniper Hale fill up with glee. 

But as she filled up with glee, she suddenly realised that she had no idea where she was going. She had stopped still in the middle of Victors' Village, hands in pockets with her brows furrowed. She couldn't go back to Lucy's without the inevitable consequence of screaming at her, she couldn't go to Brent's since she had supposedly broken his nose, and she couldn't go home because she couldn't bear to see her father's exhausted expression. 

("He's a good guy, Juniper," the older woman said. "He cares about you... he'll do anything for you.")

Juniper shook her head, trying to get Lucy's voice out of her mind. She couldn't go anywhere in the Village and was completely alone. And so, for some reason, she started to head to the mud path that exited Victors' Village and headed to the district, the Barn of Death in the distance. 

She tried to clear her head, which was extremely hard, but she tried anyway. She took deep breaths as she headed to the road and as she did, she tried to look at the scenery. 

The Victor tried to take in the little greenery that there was in Ten. She looked at the branches that were overhead, intertwined with brown leaves and small twigs that the few birds in the district had collected, supposedly building nests for their young. She focused on the blue sky overhead that was mixed with the white of the clouds, it being the most vibrant thing in the area except for the towering, red barn in the distance with the freshly-painted white fences and gates. Juniper focused on all of this to clear her mind. 

But it didn't work.

It never did. If anything, it just made the girl feel more alone, feel more tiny and helpless than she usually did. Nothing could help her mind. Nothing could get rid of the horrors. That was something Juniper had found out the hard way. 

So, she stopped in the middle of the mud road. She had exited Victors' Village and could see the Barn of Death in the background to her right. Everything was quiet. There was barely anyone.

Except for the lone person walking up the path. 

Juniper furrowed her brows as she stared at the figure who had caught her attention. They were heading her way and were getting closer by the second, but she couldn't see their face. They were wearing a cloak that covered their head, which was so long that it was dragging in the sludge. If Juniper had her sword or any other blade, she would have grasped it. The person was mysterious, eery, and creepy and Juniper Hale did not like it one bit. 

As the figure got closer, the woman tensed. They were heading to Victors' Village. They had to be. The path didn't lead to anywhere but there. Maybe it was one of Lucy's friends, if she had any, or Brent's. Or maybe it was someone looking for her. No. No, they weren't there for her because as they were right beside the woman, they kept moving. 

But suddenly, one of their hands flicked forwards and something shiny and golden got tossed into the mud, making Juniper jump incredibly in the air. The action was so quick, so vicious that the Victor did not expect it. She did expect, however, to see a blade sticking into her heart or something of the kind. But no. There was no blade, but Juniper soon became interested in the item the mysterious person had flicked into the mud.

"What the hell?" She mumbled as she eyed the figure, who kept walking slowly. They didn't seem to realise they had dropped something. But they must have since they flicked it out of their grasp. 

Juniper bent down and saw the small, golden item barely sticking out in the clumpy mud. It was tainted with the sludge, but the Hale woman managed to fish it out and as she did, rage filled her deep inside. 

A mockingjay pin. 

Between her fingertips, half-golden and half-muddy, was the exact token Katniss Everdeen took with her into her arena, into the Seventy-Fourth Hunger Games. The girl had it attached to her jacket the entire time and whilst she tried to hide it, everyone could see its golden shimmer. And now, a near replica was between Juniper's fingertips and she considered smashing it to bits. But then curiosity filled her up. 

Why would someone, a mysterious being, flick this by Juniper's feet? Was it to make her angry at the reminder that Katniss Everdeen and Peeta Mellark were both alive? Or was there a deeper meaning? Whatever that meaning was, it made Juniper furrow her eyebrows as she stared at the pin. It confused her greatly. 

"Oi, what—!"

Juniper turned around to see if the mysterious figure was still there, walking slowly, but as she did, as she called out, it was just her on the path. There was no person and as Juniper quickly walked back up to see if they were in Victors' Village, it was as empty as it always was. 

"What the hell?" Juniper mumbled to herself as she flipped the symbol over and over between her fingertips. "What the hell does this mean?"

She knew of mockingjays to be from a failed Capitol project, but what purpose did it have? The pin itself must have been of personal value to Katniss Everdeen, which was why she had taken it into the arena. Every token a tribute brought in, if they had one, was worth personal value. This was just some stupid bird pin that didn't even mean anything so Juniper was highly confused why she was still looking at it. But whatever it was, it made her pocket the item.

As the day went on, Juniper started to feel her heart race. Whether it was because of the mockingjay in her pocket or because the mandatory viewing was soon, she didn't know. She knew the televised announcement must have something to do with the Quarter Quell, an altered version of the Hunger Games that was celebrated every twenty-five-years, a more gruesome, vile event.

But Juniper knew that whatever the Quell might be, it wouldn't affect her. For the first Quarter Quell, the Twenty-Fifth Hunger Games, there was an election throughout the district to vote on who the tributes would be, which always made Juniper shudder as she thought of it to be worse to be chosen by your own than some random Capitol escort. And then for the second, the Fiftieth Hunger Games, the Games Haymitch Abernathy won, every district was required to send twice as many tributes. Forty-eight tributes instead of twenty-four. And all those Quarter Quells, it had affected the district itself, not the mentors or previous Victors' and so, Juniper would be fine. 

So, with that in mind, she focused on the mockingjay pin. She thought about it more harder and more often than she should have, but she desperately wanted to know what it meant. Why did someone flick it into the ground? Was Juniper supposed to pick it up? Did someone just want to discard it because it held no value for them? Why did they have it in the first place? All these questions sprinted throughout Juniper's mind even as it hit seven-thirty and the mandatory broadcast started. 

She wasn't surprised to see Caesar Flickerman speaking to a standing-room-only crowd in-front of the Training Centre. He was talking about Katniss Everdeen's upcoming nuptials and the thought of her made Juniper want to be sick. But then she remembered the pin. Why did they have it? Were they a fan of Everdeen? Or were they throwing it in the mud because they hated her?

Juniper forced herself to stuff those questions down as the girl's stylist, Cinna, took the stage and after a minute of conversing, everyone's attention turned to a giant screen. And, of course, despite feeling the mockingjay pin in her pocket, which seemed to be heavier than usual, Juniper still groaned when she saw photographs of Katniss Everdeen in different wedding dresses. 

"How is this mandatory?" Juniper mumbled. Her father, to her left, merely shrugged. 

There were six shots of Everdeen in wedding dresses and every shot was met with a huge reaction from the crowd. They cheered and screamed for their favourites and booed for the ones they didn't like. Juniper figured they all betted on which dress would win, just how they betted on what child would be the sole Victor in the Games. She clenched her jaw at every image. 

But to Juniper's surprise, Everdeen's section in the broadcast was short as Caesar announced after the six shots that interested parties were to cast their final votes by noon the following day before saying, "Let's get Katniss Everdeen to her wedding in style! But stay tuned for another big event of the evening!"

Juniper tensed as she readjusted herself on the couch. Even her father did. 

"That's right, this year will be the seventy-fifth anniversary of the Hunger Games and that means it's time for our third Quarter Quell!"

Juniper felt her throat tighten and her face become flushed as the anthem began to play, all attention off of Cinna and Everdeen as President Coriolanus Snow took the stage. And as Juniper stared at him through her screen, she could feel the vomit rising in her stomach. Some would think the man was a kind-hearted figure, that he was some loving grandfather with his hunched back, his thinning hair. But Juniper knew otherwise. Finnick knew otherwise. Cashmere from One knew otherwise. This man, this monster, was more vile than Juniper Hale. He was a snake. He was inhumane. He was hideous and if Juniper could, she would go straight to the Capitol and strangle him. 

The monster that was Snow was followed by a young boy dressed in a white suit, holding a simple, wooden box. When the anthem ended, the man began to speak. He reminded them all of the Dark Days from which the Hunger Games were born and what a Quarter Quell was. A twenty-five-year anniversary. Of course, he made it seem more prestigious and sweet than it truly was. 

"On the twenty-fifth anniversary, as a reminder to the rebels that their children were dying because of their choice to initiate violence, every district was made to hold an election and vote on the tributes who would represent it."

Juniper sighed at this. 

"On the fiftieth anniversary," Snow continued. "As a reminder that two rebels died for each Capitol citizen, every district was required to send twice as many tributes."

Forty-eight instead of twenty-four. Juniper imagined what the very start of the Games must have been like at the Cornucopia, rising up from the catacombs to see forty-seven instead of twenty-three. 

"And now we honour our third Quarter Quell," he said and Juniper felt her heart race. It didn't affect her, she knew that, but anything was possible with the Capitol. 

And as Juniper thought this, she watched the little boy in the white suit step forward, holding out the box as he opened the lid. There was a tidy, upright row of yellowed envelopes with numbers on them. They had planned ahead for future years to come. But despite the numerous envelopes, Snow was quick to snatch one that was marked with '75'. He ran his finger under the flap and pulled out a small, square of paper. He barely hesitated before reading. 

"On the seventy-fifth anniversary, as a reminder to the rebels that even the strongest among them cannot overcome the power of the Capitol, the male and female tributes will be reaped from their existing pools of Victors'."

Neither daughter nor the father moved.