all in a fantasy || beck & opal !blitz

It was a delicate balancing act, teetering on the edge of regret and relief. The scale was weighted either way and she couldn’t quite tell which way it was going to fall. The museum had left her feeling unsure of herself, resolute in the belief that letting go of Potato was the right decision, but her heart was still tethered to him, regardless of how far she tried to run. He was impossible to escape, parts of his face that she had forgotten about etched into her mind as she realised Ky had the same features.

Two sides of the same coin, an ache in her heart as the truth settled in, the realisation that the more she looked at Ky the more similarities she would notice. It was something she wasn’t sure she could prevent, and even though she had let go of the chain around her ankle, her heart was still a panicked bird trapped in her chest. She had to let it free, but it had been there for so long she wondered if it knew how to fly.

The exit to the museum was quiet and Opal was thankful that there were only a few Capiolites here and there. None of them paid her any attention and she ducked her head, avoiding any wandering eyes as she slipped through the exit doors.

As the door closed behind her she halted, eyes widening with surprise as she spotted Beck Hailsham. He looked as though he was fighting with himself, trying to make the decision every victor fought with. It had taken Opal a long time to feel brave enough to walk within these walls, and even then she had not returned to the 64th Hunger Games exhibit, too weak to face the lives she had stolen.

She walked up to him, a gentle smile on her lips as she spoke, “you know I’ve never looked at the 64th exhibit after all these years.” Opal rubbed the back of her head, before turning her gaze to the museum doors.

“I don’t think I’m brave enough to do it by myself, do you want to come with me?”

He moved quickly, all evidence pointing to avoidance. It was classic, and Opal found herself burying her smirk behind her hand as she watched his back. Beck reminded her of Ky; sad, lost, and filled to the brim with avoidance issues. They’d get along, to angst-filled teenagers riddled with messy emotions and an unwillingness to face them head-on.

Yet, at the same time, every victor begins at this point. Very few of them escape the Arena as a better person unfazed by the blood that covered their hands. Opal could count on one hand the victors who had felt freed by the lives they’d claimed. The rest of them struggled with their guilt, drowning the pain with drugs or simply letting themselves wallow in it.

Opal blinked, thinking back to Potato and his face staring at her. He had felt like the man she loved, his voice echoing with the same gentle accent, but it wasn’t the same.

“No, it’s eerily similar,” the ache in her chest deepened as she followed behind Beck. Leaving had felt like a weight off her shoulders, but going back in was like setting herself on fire once more.

She stood beside him staring into the entrance, the darkness pulsed, greeting the edge of sunlight between suffering and peace. Beck was brave, stronger than she had been at his age. She felt herself smile again ready to face her own nightmares. “You’re only seeing a creation made by the Capitol, it has their essence,” she tilted her head, eyes meeting Becks. “It’s not them. It’s a script, and they’re immortalized at that point in their life.”

“Let’s do this,” Opal reached forwards, offering Beck her hand.