One -- Katelyn Standalone (Pre-Bachfinale)

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KATELYN PERSIMMON

There were questions that Katelyn kept asking herself, especially when the cameras were gone and the lights had faded. There were questions she only dissected when she was alone. Like she was as she entered her quarters, cheek still burning, and stomach flipping from Opal’s surprising goodnight. One of the questions she asked herself was what kind of girlfriend she would be. A terrible one was the answer that cropped up at the end of that train of thought. Because she knew she’d be ruining their lives. And she didn’t even know how to begin to explain it to any of them. How could she tell them what they’d be giving up?

That the capitol would lean on them, if they weren’t already. That it could affect their business. Their livelihood. Her life wasn’t fun. It revolved around preparing for the games and helping her families out. She’d never given much thought to actually dating someone, and the people on the show? Around her it felt like they had stars in their eyes and an ache in their heart. Around them, Katelyn’s head hurt and though her personality bled through from time to time, she felt she was largely playing the part Tinselton had picked for her. So she examined who was left and tried to decide whose life would be ruined the least if she chose them. Every time she came to the same conclusion. No matter what, there’d be a major problem.

Katelyn sat down heavily on the floor, leaning her back against the side of her bed and drawing her knees up to her chest. The finale was tomorrow. She was supposed to meet the remaining contestant’s families and then one last rose ceremony. There would be no crown for this victor, but a kiss instead, alongside a celebrity relationship that was sure to be cross-examined, dissected and talked about by bored Capitolites until the next hunger games was in session, or Tinselton came up with another show. What would be next? The Bachelor, starring Justice Fray?

She could see it already and laughed quietly; thinking about a dozen mini justice fray’s being peppered around Panem. If he was as girl-crazy as he appeared to be, it was a possibility. With a sigh, she pulled her hairband out and swept her hair back. Perhaps there were was a silver lining, even if none of the contestants remembered, she did. The last one standing could always save themselves by choosing a prize instead of her at the end. Her shoulders sagged.

There was nothing in this for her; she was convinced that if she managed to derive even the smallest iota of joy from the competition, something bad would happen. The problem was that she couldn’t be as real as she wanted to with anyone of them. And she hated herself for doing the same things she despised Glamour Kincade for. She was playing a role, teetering towards getting lost in it. Her gut roiled. What was the ploy here? Why get her involved with a capitolite? Was it a distraction for her?

To have someone else to focus on in the Capitol besides her tributes? Her friends? Was it to make those watching identify her more with the extravagance of the Capitol instead of where she came from? She could see it, being dolled up day in and day out, not even getting to choose her clothing.  Why her? Why not bother Patricia Valfierno or…or Atticus Manor? Was it because of the unbelievable streak eleven had had after she won? Because for the first time in decades, people in eleven had a shred of fucking hope to hold onto and it seemed to be largely attributed to her?

So what if they had hope, it gave them something else to think about besides wasting away while harvesting food for the Capitol’s desires and –

Realization dawned on her like a freight train tearing down the tracks.

Perhaps it wasn’t for the Capitol’s enjoyment, though surely the show had fans in spades already. Maybe it was for the people in eleven. To try and disconnect her from them. Maybe it wasn’t because she could be considered a symbol for hope. Because the three of them could be considered such. Maybe it was because they were afraid of what she might become down the road. It’s why they both threatened the other families and dangled the carrot of safety in front of her. The Capitol didn’t approve of her actions thus far and they were worried what she might do in the future. She laughed bitterly. Judging by how she was letting them pull her strings, in the future she might be a marionette.

For the sake of the Miristiomas and the Rhodes. For the sake of the families she’d grown close to. The families she had damned one year after the other. Katelyn sniffed a little, wiping away tears that were forming in the corner of her eyes. If the president kept the promise he’d delivered through Tinselton, they’d be safe. But their safety meant sentencing other people’s children to the area. Maybe she’d save Fletcher or Laia from an early grave, but she’d be burying someone else in their stead. She fantasized about helping a third victor home from an unrelated family and spitting at the camera lens when they came to interview her.

But her face felt hot and her hands felt cold, and the thought didn’t stop her knees from knocking together. She thought about the show again, and started crying like a thunderstorm. It started with light teardrops spattering against the floor, before a sob wracked its way out of her chest like a peal of thunder and opened the gates to a torrential downpour. It was all so fucking confusing. Tinselton hadn’t even bothered to ask what she liked before getting people to sign up and now she was unsure of what she did. She didn’t think she felt anything beyond a light attraction or admiration for some of the contestants instead of love but she didn’t want anyone to get hurt either.

But they would.

Some of the people she’d already sent home probably had been.

It wasn’t fair.

What had Opal said to her in the club? Don’t mistake affection for love? That that the hardest part was realizing when you actually were in love? Katelyn wanted to whimper in frustration. And then Opal had…

No, no, she didn’t need to think about that.

“I don’t understand what love is supposed to be like.” She whispered to the empty room in tears.

She was supposed to be larger than life, yet she had never felt so small.

More agonizingly, she couldn’t fathom how anyone could have the strength or take the time to love all of her, to understand her when she was strong, when she was vulnerable , when she didn’t have her guard up so she could be the person that everyone around her needed her to be. She was the lioness, the victor, the mentor, the bachelorette, the rock, the steadfast, the strong. But in that moment, crying into her sleeves by her bedside, she was just an emotionally exhausted young woman.

She was just Katelyn. 

"I'm a realist, and an optimist,

but I swear to you, I'm not getting over this."



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