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𝘾𝙝𝙖𝙥𝙩𝙚𝙧 4̶

𝙏𝙝𝙚 𝙢𝙚𝙢𝙤𝙧𝙞𝙚𝙨 𝙩𝙝𝙖𝙩 𝙧𝙚𝙢𝙖𝙞𝙣 𝙬𝙞𝙩𝙝𝙞𝙣 𝙪𝙨

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𓅫𓅫𓅫

My Dearest Songbird,

I hope you are doing well in spite of today's looming event. I do not see a point in parading around those who have won and forcing the families of those who have lost and they murdered to listen to their robotic speech of gratitude, but you know how I feel about the Victory Tour already, so I will not bore you with my anger and waste anymore ink on it.

I am deeply sorry Maverick also has to experience one after his own.

I must selfishly admit one good thing to come out of the Victory Tour is that I will get to see you at the Capitol's celebration at the end of it. I will be wearing a shirt my Aunt Tigris gave to me that is actually a family heirloom, surprised anything is preserved from the past that aren't tapes or portrait paintings.

I hope this makes it to you in time, or everything I have just written will sound quite silly. I look forward to your response as it seems to be the only light to look forward these days. Well, until the celebration.

CXS.

Wrenley licks her lips as she reads the letter over for the second time. She always reminds herself writing to him is dangerous, as is him writing to her, and she shouldn't be doing it in the first place. But every single time she finds herself writing back to him anyway. She can't explain why, and would never admit it may just be because he makes her feel less alone, but she shoves the letter into her pillowcase for now to write back after the godforsaken Victory Tour— though the voice in the back of her mind screams it's a terrible, unsafe, and STUPID idea to write back to the President's grandson.

The same voice that's pounded in her head since they started communicating with each other... yet she hasn't stopped. She's not sure why. And doesn't know when, or if, she ever will.

Wrenley huffs, dusting her hands off on her pants before she leaves her room and drags her feet down the hall. She could feel the fire catching in her veins, burning in the pit of her stomach.

And the revolution she could sense on the horizon?
District 10 was in the wake of it all. District 10 was one of the 'underdogs.' They weren't meant to win, but when three of their only Victors were all from the same family... well, people start to write it off as a tragedy, or a family curse.

Those so-called underdogs start to be rooted for. The District starts to rage and rally at the sight of a single mother having to watch each of her babies reaped, mentored by their siblings, and forced to fight again someone else's babies. Luce Zavala was beloved by all of District 10. And that kind of support is strong. And the tragedy that bleeds through the Zavala family is strong enough to want to start a revolution.

People were waking up.

They began to rise from their slumber for a thirteen year old girl. They did for a young man with a broken back. And they are for two teens in love who cheated the system. A fragile system. And District 10 was not blind to that.

Wrenley Maue agreed with her secret penpal, she did not like the Victory Tour, and saw no point in parading around those who made it out to those who did not. To serve as a reminder. She shutters. Her Victory Tour was isolating, terrifying, uncanny. A thirteen year old girl traveling from District to District to talk about the young lives lost in her Games, as if she was not a child herself. And the Districts wanted her to sing, just as she had in the Arena.

She wore garments and pieces that were far too revealing and if it weren't for Kane being on her Tour, as he had won the 68th Hunger Games and was her only Mentor, far more drastic measures would have been taken, such as a breast augmentation that Kane furiously stood firm to oppose to.

"She's thirteen you sick fucking bastards!"

Her stomach twists in the familiar knots she's grown accustom to. She's been violated in more ways as a Victor than she ever was in Arena as a Tribute. Death is a kind gift, a kiss on the cheek, it is remaining alive as Victor that is the real punishment.

She remembers her echoing sobs into her brothers chest, begging to go home and he had to tell her the reality that's stuck with her ever since.

"It doesn't stop when you go home, Wren. The Victory Tour doesn't end when you step off this train."

And he was right. They pull you out every year, making you relive your trauma, as you continue the cycle for the next. Tribute. Victor. Mentor. It's all a vicious cycle, that never truly ends. Like today. The Victors of the District sit in the front for the Victory Tour, they must cater for their dinner, all eyes are on them once again, as if they ever left.

"Mi hija, you look beautiful." Lucinda voice reaches Wrenley's ears as she emerges to the living room. But this year there are TWO Victors. "Arregla tu cara." She points at Wrenley to fix her face, a sour look taking over her features. Wrenley sighs through her nose, glancing up at her mother.

"My tour is over." Maverick's words from before whisper in her mind. The floor sighs beneath Kane and Maverick's shoes as Kane follows Maverick closely down the hall. He nods indicating they're ready.

𓅫𓅫𓅫

Wrenley Maue's eyes watch the two Victor's sharply, closely, as if a bird was stalking it's prey. The way Katniss's shoulders angled slightly more than Peeta's gave away her tense uncomfortability. Her tight smile only remains on her lips for a moment before it slowly begins to fade.

"Katniss and I want to shaere with you our victory, and our gratitude to the Capitol for bringing us together." Peeta spoke as he glances down at the cards in his hand. "It was the bond of love, forged in the crucible of the games that was our greatest prize. For it is love and true love that allows us all to bear our hardships , that mends the heart and banishes loneliness, and gives meaning to our lives."

"We also want to share with you the sorrows of your losses. The Tributes of this District were brave and noble warriors. They brought honor to their families and pride to their people. We are all of us united, both Victors and vanquished, in serving a common purpose." Katniss's voice drones, sounding more robotic as she spoke. Caius was right... but when was he usually wrong?

"They are Victor's whom have to bear their nightmares, too." Maverick whispers to her as Katniss and Peeta raise their hands in the air before sharing a kiss. "We should remember that."

Oh, if only Wrenley Maue shared even half of Maverick's empathy. She admires how strong he is to remain caring, and humble, and empathetic after everything he's been through.

Then why must he live in the discomfort of everyday, punished, while others remain untouched simply because they're 'in love?'

𓅫𓅫𓅫

𝟶ʙᴜᴛᴛᴇʀʙɪsᴄᴜɪᴛ𝟽 sᴘᴇᴀᴋs!

Hello, hello... and welcome back to Anteric Crimes ;)

It has been far too long, and for that I apologize. This chapter has been started ever since the last update but unfortunately I was stuck for a bit & could not seem to get out what I wanted to write next.... BUT THANKFULLY my motivation for this book hit me full force yet again this weekend & the block for this chapter dissipated!!! Hooray!!

I have been SO SO excited for y'all to read the letter at the beginning of this chapterrr, & left y'all on a cliffhanger for it last chap... ;) BUT IT IS FINALLY HERE & Caius & Wrenley's paths have finally crosseddd, did y'all see them being penpals coming?!

I am so, SOOO excited to contiue this storyyy, & to unveil more about Kane, Maverick, & Wrenley's Games as it doesss!! I hope y'all are still hereee haha, because this is truly only the beginning!!

Last April this book was unjustly & wrongfully taken down by Wattpad after I had SO many people excited & interested to read & now we're coming up on one year since it was randomly given back & appeared out of nowhere in the drafts!! I'm just so glad to have it back & be able to write & update this book for y'all to read!!

Happy 2 months to Sunrise On The Reapinggg, this book will ABSOLUTELY have some crazy connections & parallels to SOTR, hehe... so I hope y'all enjoyed this chapterrr & until next time, mwahhh!! <333