125 SECOND CLOUD

Finnick's legs are moving before he's consciously aware of them, brushing past the others, who jump out of his way in surprise, and grabbing Alabaster's wrist, poised to deliver a powerful blow.

"Not here," he starts. But Alabaster is already turning toward him, and in one fluid, trained movement, drives his fist into Finnick's jaw.

White, then utter darkness flashes across Finnick's vision. He doesn't remember falling, but the next thing he knows he's on the ground, hand pressed to his throbbing jaw.

"What was that, Four?" Alabaster is yelling, even as trainers are hauling him away with practiced efficiency. "Think you're some kind of hero? Callow-loving freak!"

District 1 male is easily aggravated, Finnick can hear himself reporting to Mags later.

A clinical hand touches his cheek: A medic, probing his face with gloved hands.

"Did he hit his head?"