build me back up. charade

For the longest time, it had felt like they had had complete control over her life. Ever since her name had been plucked out of the bowl. The last fifteen years had had more downs than ups. But ever since Kass had won the games, Katelyn had hope. The weight of the world was no longer on her shoulders. She could think about herself. She’d even gone on dates. None of them had worked out, but it was still an improvement over the years of loneliness. She had time to find herself.

She left the cameras and the tutoring to Kassandra. The young spitfire had won without her help, and Katelyn was confident that in time she would learn and grow as she herself had. Katelyn was old news, and she was grateful to be out of the spotlight at long last. That was not to say that every responsibility was to be shirked. The papers on the table in front of her were the death certificates for the fallen.

Sarina and Alfonso. Her heart wept for Vasco’s family. They had lost so many Izar’s over the years, but to lose two in the same games? She’d need to visit him when she got back. Her friend had enough on his shoulders being the Mayor without having to handle all the funeral arrangements himself.

The door opened and when she looked up she saw a ghost.

Looking back over the years, she had realized that Opal’s feeling for her had gone beyond mere friendship. But Katelyn had been young, constantly in the spotlight for bringing home back to back victors and dumb. She had been so focused on being Katelyn Persimmon for everyone that needed her that she hadn’t seen what was in front of her.

Hadn’t seen that in the midst of all the fakery the Capitol had been subjecting her to, Opal had been real. Had cared for her. Had seen the Katelyn that was there instead of the Katelyn she had been forced to be. But the smile forming on her face slid off so fast when Opal, on the verge of tears, approached and asked a question.

A question that punched Katelyn in the gut.

“I—what? Opal, you’ve never—“

She took a breath and noted that she smelled like strawberries.

Back then, she had always smelled like strawberries.

It all came flooding back. The memories she’d tried to hold onto in that deep, dark hole. Of Velocity and Marc and Lexi. Of Kirito and Harb, of Mace and Opal. Suddenly, she was self-conscious of the scars on her hands. The shock of seeing a ghost faded when she read the look in Opal’s face. The hurt. The tears brimming in the corners of her eyes.

Katelyn looked down at the table. “I’m the one who should be sorry. I should have reached out when they let me go. There was just so much—“

So many bad memories. The detention center. The chair. Losing her identity. Him.

“It was hard enough putting the pieces in eleven— “she began again, feeling her heartbeat quicken. She was at a loss for words. Better to start from the beginning. Opal was so upset and Katelyn felt like it had to be more than just Katelyn never calling.

Did I ever thank you? For being there for me when I had to do that horrid dating show? For listening to my fears. Holding me up. Lending your shoulder, your ear. Helping me home.  Have I ever apologized for being so incredibly stupid about you?

But she left those words unsaid.

“Opal, she said thickly, feeling a lump in her throat. “What am I missing here?”

It was worrying.

Opal looked like she was going to break down at any given moment. She was a wheat field bending and bowing in a summer storm. There was an energy, a heat coming off of her that made the hair on the back of Katelyn’s neck stand up. Soulful eyes, brimming like the clouds that brought April showers. That bottom lip quivering like a berry about to fall from a bush. Katelyn looked away. This was uncharted waters for her. It was a feeling she hadn’t felt in a long time, unlike any other.

“Katelyn, what happened?”

The reply was on the tip of her tongue when Opal’s hand found hers. It sent her into a panic when Opal’s thumb brushed the scars on joints that had been broken and healed and broken again.

It was electrifying.

The other victor, that career who was not a career (who had too much heart to ever be one) began to talk and Katelyn felt shame burning her cheeks. Because it had to be shame, Katelyn never allowed herself to blush for anything else. Her heart ached to hear that Opal had been so worried. After getting back to eleven, after her ordeal had ended, Katelyn had barely spared her a thought. To think that Opal had wept for her—

Letters. Hundreds?

Likely moldering away in a rubbish bin or ashes in a fireplace. She had never received a piece of mail, not once in those cold and lonely years and she found herself hating her captors all the more.

Please…

It could mean so many things. Katelyn had an inkling that she knew what she wanted it to mean. But therein lay the problem. Katelyn Persimmon had a history of not knowing what she wanted. She had spent so much time on other people that even now, now that she made time for herself, she still didn’t know.

She had carried guilt for so long, and indeed still carried a good deal. Everything she touched got destroyed. While Vasco had impressed upon her that she was not responsible for all the trouble that befell district eleven, it was hard not to see it that way.

Opal acting like this was dredging up old feelings, the feelings that said she didn’t deserve to be happy. Could there be someone for someone like her? Over the years she had hoped so, but she never dared dream that that hope could one day stand in front of her again. She’d thought that chapter over. Opal had never said—

But she’d said it with her eyes, with her smile, the way she’d looked at her when they shared that dance.

Hadn’t she?

Katelyn swallowed, slowly pulling her hands away and forcing herself to look Opal in the eye.

“I—I thought someone might have told you. Word gets around.” While the victor family had grown over the last decade and a half, it was still small. “I was imprisoned by the Capitol for…for a time,” she said quietly. “It—he, they, the detention center,” she tripped over her words, a dozen nightmares fighting for the forefront of her mind.

Deep breaths. That part of her life was over.

“They did things to me, Opal. It's too long a story to get into right now, but...” The Izar certificates were forgotten, as was her coffee. This was not how she expected her night to go. “Opal, if you sent letters," and her voice cracked, her mouth feeling dry. "I never received a single one.”

She thought back to the Bachelorette, when Capitol pundits were vying for her affection. Opal had been there, after every episode. How could she have been so blind? Of course it had been Opal. Maybe it always had been. Ever since that first meeting during the 71st. They’d shared a fruit salad and bonded over loss. Katelyn’s heart beat rapidly in her chest. Did she want this? Did she deserve this? She’d never dreamed—

Katelyn had thought her story was over. She was ready to fade into the background. But there was an old saying that said the past was prologue.

Was what she’d been missing her whole life, here?

Opal Earnest was a hurricane. Or maybe she was. They’d blown into each other’s lives all those years ago, and then blown back out. The thought that someone had wanted her back then, scars, fuckups and all— the thought that she hadn’t seen it. Katelyn gently helped Opal to her feet and searched for the words to say, trying to read the look in her face.

She was surprised to feel tears stinging the corners of her eyes.

“Opal I—“

Scenes from her life flickered through her head like a camera roll. A crimson snow angel. A pair of sixes. Family. Her cousin. Her brothers in arms. A dance. Bay. A chef. Bakery. Killian. Pain. Vasco and his daughter. Chili. The struggle. The lonely nights. The guilt. The rage. Bitter on her tongue. Crying. The cakes dashed on the ground. The tributes put in the soil. Heartache. Confusion. Shame. Panic. Opal’s smile. There was an ocean roaring in Katelyn’s ears, louder than any sabretoothed tiger, than any screaming peacekeeper.

They’d billed her as the ice queen before Kirito came home. She’d been so withdrawn, so single-minded. Was eighteen really so long ago? Katelyn was a survivor. Always had been. Had needed to be. The walls rarely came down, and when they did it had a tendency to scare her brothers, so up they went.

The only friend of hers that understood the pain she felt was Arbor. The two of them had suffered greatly for doing their best. But whereas Arbor was trapped in a bottle of self-loathing, Katelyn was trapped in front of a mirror that didn’t show her reflection. Katelyn Persimmon and Katelyn were two different people.

Opal had seen the real her, all those years ago. She still saw it.

The dance they’d shared came back to her, her own words came back to haunt her.

I don’t know what I’d do without you, Opal.

“I—“

It was something Katelyn couldn’t express. She could teach someone how to bake the best batch of cookies, help tributes navigate the games politics. She could garden, she could chew someone out in anger. This was something else and it scared her. There were a great many things Katelyn could explain, but one of the things she couldn’t was herself. Every word that came to mind stuck to her tongue, cluttered her mouth.

Katelyn stepped forward, not daring to breathe. Her cheeks were burning. The tips of her fingers tingling. The hand she was holding was so warm. Those eyes in front of her, she could get lost in them. There were so many words she could have said, so many years that had been wasted. It was rare in life to get second chances. Rarer still to pick up where one left off.

“Opal,” she said huskily, her voice feeling like a shadow of itself.  Her eyebrow raised, asking if she was making a mistake, wondering if she was wrong, and that if she was wrong, then she didn’t want to be right. She leaned forward, bending down, a lock of hair coming free from her faded red bandana.

Her lips found another pair, and they were soft like strawberries.

It felt right. It wasn’t like the faux kisses she’d had to give on the gameshow. She could feel the hands on her back and it was intoxicating. She wanted to drink her in, inhale her. It was a closeness she’d never felt with anyone. Never thought she would feel. It was a moment she didn’t want to end. There was a fire in her chest, in her lips. Her heart felt it was going to burst.

Liberating. Cathartic. Free.

Over too soon.

You’re a good kisser.

Katelyn felt a half-formed joke start to come together; it wasn’t like she had had much practice. She had surprised herself with her forwardness.  But before she could respond, the next words hit her like a sledgehammer.

Why now?

“It—“ Katelyn rubbed the back of her neck and looked away.

You were crying. I couldn’t stand to see you cry.

Because it’s never now. It’s always then, or too late.

What did it mean? Katelyn didn’t know for certain, but she didn’t want Opal to be the confused one, she already was. How could she condense the past into something that made sense? How to tell her that she’d thought about her from time to time. That she was the one that got away? How to explain that she hadn’t the faintest idea of what love meant?

What romance was supposed to be? How did she explain the loneliness, the way that Opal had made her feel like things were going to be okay? Katelyn wanted to cry. This was something she had no experience in. She had hoped that the kiss would explain things, show how she felt, but it seemed that actions did not always speak louder.

What was she supposed to say? She was a grown woman for ripred’s sake, there had to be something! She felt twenty-one again. Katelyn fidgeted, her left knee bouncing up and down. She bit her lip, something she hadn’t done much of since her stint in the Detention Center, and closed her eyes.

When she opened them again, she focused on Opal’s forehead, unable to meet her gaze.

“I was young, then. I spent a good five years in a spotlight I never wanted. I’ve only recently begun to heal from my past and I—“

Her voice caught in her throat. She recalled cleaning up Potato’s grave and sending the photos to Opal. Congratulating her when Justice came home, even as that night she wept over Weaver Rhodes. The kiss Opal had left on her cheek as a goodnight. Why hadn’t she seen? Why hadn’t she known? Perhaps she had, but hadn’t believed it could be real.

“I have a lot of regrets. I don’t want missing out on you to be one of them.”

Not anymore.

Love?

She’d carried a torch for this long? The quick peck on her lips was barely noticed, lost in the sea of confusion rising around her. Love? The passionate kiss caught her off-guard; threatened to overwhelm her, her knees felt weak and her ears were so crimson they could have burst into flames. When the kiss ended, there were tears streaming freely down her face.

“Why me?” she choked out. “How can you say that?” Her tongue felt swollen in her mouth. “Bad things happen to the people I care about. I—I’ve made so many mistakes. I...do you know how long it took me to find—to find me?” Conflicting emotions struggled for control. Her mind raced through every fear, every doubt she’d ever held onto. The faces in her past mocking her, whittling away at her, piece by piece. 

There were so many times in her life that she’d gotten knocked down. Gotten back up. Because she couldn’t stay down, not when the bell hadn’t rung. But it had been tiring, so tiring. Being strong for other people. Being too afraid to let anyone in. Unable to connect with anyone past the surface. She’d been in survival mode ever since her bloodbath and the tension had colored every decision in life she’d made. 

But surviving life wasn’t living it.

Katelyn put her face in her hands and tried to wipe some of the tears away. She was a different person than she had been a decade ago, but she was also still very much the same. “My God, Opal. I’d given up hope on anything in my life changing. I’d made my peace with the status quo. But you—you walk in here and—and”

It was then that Katelyn realized that love is difficult to understand when a person did not love themselves.

“It’s like I’ve been sleepwalking all this time, and—and now I’ve woken up, and I don’t know how—and I can’t— “she shuddered, her chest heaving as a tidal wave of emotion poured out of her.The emotions she had always kept under lock and key, behind a wall; because people preyed on those. Used them against a person.

Katelyn stifled a sob and looked at the other victor through tear-stained eyes. There was an ache in her chest as she thought about how they could have had this so much sooner.

She cupped Opal’s face in her hands and kissed her back with a fierceness, with a vigor, desperate to match the passion she’d just been given. “Opal, I” she gasped when they broke for air, “I just—and she buried her face in the shorter victor’s neck and cried.

Katelyn took a deep breath, steadying herself, collecting her thoughts with a sniffle as she straightened up.“Sorry, sorry, I don’t— I don’t usually fall apart like that,” she said, wiping her eyes with a hand. “The last few years have been rough, and this, you—” Opal’s words echoed in her head, love reminds a person that they are still alive. She smiled sadly. She’d gotten so used to pain being the metric she measured by. Would everything be okay? She dared not let her hopes rise too high. Did they have time?

God, she hoped so.

Too much of it had been wasted already.

The pressure of the hand on her back was comforting, and she reciprocated by running her fingers through Opal’s hair, maintaining eye contact like she was last person in Panem. The few people she’d been attracted to over the years shared one thing in common, that she had felt connected to them emotionally, but with Opal, with Opal it felt like it was something more. Her stomach flipped and there was a blaze brewing in her chest as her hands slipped down to Opal’s waist. She hugged her tight, suddenly, and lifted Opal off her feet, spinning her in a circle as a joyous laugh erupted from her throat.

She hadn’t laughed in years; in fact, she couldn’t even remember the last time she had.

This was real. It was actually happening to her. She just couldn’t keep up with the roller coaster of emotions. She felt free. Ten years younger. The Capitol could go to hell and in that moment, she felt like she could send them there herself. She was on top of the world for once, instead of feeling like the weight of it was on her shoulders. Opal, Opal saw her, said she loved her. Not as a friend or a sister, not as a mentor or a victor. Not as a symbol or an icon. No one had ever made her feel like that. She felt like she could fly.

“Do you want to get out of here?” she asked shyly. “There’s got to be a diner or something still open at this hour.” In district eleven, everyone learned at an early age to bond over mealtime. The Izars knew all about that. "Or—or we could just go for a walk, just like old times.” Katelyn’s eyes were shining, she could feel that they were, she just wasn’t sure what they were shining with. Hope? Joy? Love?

She supposed she had time to figure that out.