A new way of greeting
"That, or we could be allies," Finnick took a step back as he looked at Katniss in turn.
"That would be very interesting. I don't want to face such a beloved and attractive man from Panem. Many women would do anything for me to disappear in inexplicable ways." Jacob knew that Finnick was aware of the rebellion. He must have found out a few weeks ago, so he must know more than anyone else.
"We should consider that. I don't recommend making decisions above your fiancée. Trust me, it's not reasonable." Finnick made this joke that confused Katniss a little.
Did they know each other, or was their connection from just a few moments ago? Just now, it seemed like Finnick and Jacob were about to fight, but now they stood there as potential allies.
"I'm sorry you have to cancel your wedding. I know how devastating that must have been for you." Finnick put another sugar cube in his mouth and left.
Jacob stared at him for a few seconds before looking at Katniss and saying, "He's a charismatic man. I'm sure he'll have the attention of many people."
"Did you know him before?" Katniss asked a somewhat silly question.
Jacob shook his head, "No, we had never met before."
"Well, he's horrifying. He gave me chills."
The music started playing after they fell silent, and the wide doors opened for the first carriage to exit, and the roar of the crowd was heard.
"Shall we?" Jacob extended his hand to Katniss, recalling the events of a year ago.
"Have you seen your dress yet? We'll be fabulous again."
"Absolutely. But Portia says we have to rise above it all. No greetings or anything," Jacob responded and asked curiously, "By the way, where are they?"
"I don't know." Katniss looked at the procession of carriages and said, "Maybe we should light ourselves up."
"Do we have to hold hands this year?" Katniss had her doubts about it. This time, Jacob hadn't shared his strategy with her.
"We're engaged. In the public eye, we're still a couple who was about to get married until recently." Jacob extended his hand and held Katniss's hand. "Let's show our anger with these games this time. Not greeting anyone is the answer."
The voice of the crowd rose in a universal cry as they passed through the dim evening light, but neither of them reacted. Jacob simply fixed his eyes on a distant point in the distance and, with a cold look, disregarded the audience. They didn't exist to him anymore.
This time, he doesn't need anything from anyone.
Along the way, for obvious reasons, they couldn't help but catch glimpses of themselves and Katniss on the immense screens along the way, and they were not only beautiful but also dark and powerful.
If they were a painting, they would demonstrate their suffering and renunciation of any kind of jewelry or money. This time, they seek no favors and accept nothing from others because they don't need it. But in their eyes, they are relentless.
As they turn the curve of the Grand Circle of the City, upon seeing other carriages, it can be seen that other stylists have tried to steal Cinna and Portia's idea of illuminating their respective tributes.
The outfits filled with electric lights from District 3, where they are in charge of electronics, at least make sense. But what are the ranchers from District 10 doing, dressed as cows with flaming belts? Barbecuing themselves? Ridiculous, a shameful scene.
Nobody can make Jacob and Katniss nonexistent, even when President Snow begins speaking from his balcony, welcoming them to the Quell. The anthem plays, and as they make the final lap around the circle, Jacob's eyes lock with President Snow's, and vice versa. He remembers the words he said that time when he spoke with the president: "I will kill everyone to keep the ones I care about safe."
Jacob and Katniss wait until the doors of the Training Center have closed behind them to relax.
Portia is there, pleased with their performance, and Haymitch has also made his appearance this year, only he is not in the carriage; he is with the tributes from District 11. Jacob sees him nod in his direction, and then they follow him to greet them.
He knows the man named Chaff because he and Haymitch were often seen drinking on television. He has dark skin, about six feet tall, and one of his arms ends in a stump because he lost his hand in the Games he won thirty years ago. Unlike Jacob, who was unconscious and had his severed fingers replaced without asking, this man refused to have artificial arms.
The woman, Seeder, almost looks like she's from the Seam, with her olive skin and straight black hair sprinkled with silver. Only her golden brown eyes mark her as being from another district. She must be around sixty, but she still looks strong, and there's no sign that she has turned to liquor or morphling or any other chemical form of escape over the years. Before any of them say anything, she embraces Katniss. Somehow, he knows it must be because of Rue and Thresh.
Chaff throws his good arm around Katniss and plants a big kiss on her lips. She pushes him away abruptly, surprised, while he and Haymitch burst into laughter.
"I should use that greeting from now on, but only with beautiful girls, Haymitch. Don't get your hopes up," Jacob said, patting his mentor.
"That's what we should all do." Katniss jabbed Jacob's ribs with her elbow, clearly annoyed.
Seeing that, Haymitch and the others laughed even louder than they already were.
That's about all the time we have before Capitol attendants firmly guide us toward the elevators. It's easy to perceive the clear sense that they are uncomfortable with the camaraderie between the victors, which the victors couldn't care less about.