âNot wrong, necessarily â but probably foolish.â Truthfully, Johanna hadnât had a plan when she was trotted out in front of the Capitol and all of Panem â but the fact that nobody had paid her any attention ( going so far as to label her bland and unmemorable ) ultimately helped form what would become her strategy for the Games â her strategy to win. âThese people donât care about who you are beyond your looks and your charm. If youâre seeking validation, trust me, you wonât find it here. So few of your lot have in the past.â Perhaps she would feel sorry for the career tributes who arrived here year after year with the same ambitions only to be let down in one way or another â but she found it rather difficult to do so when the vast majority of them were just so unpleasant.
âThereâs no such thing as a cowardly victory.â She says â voice even and low despite the rising anger in Titusâ. This, in fact, she truly believed â âCowards donât win the Games. And, as much as I hate some of them, none of the so-called the winners are cowards.â Every victor she knew ( even the ones she had personal distaste towards, of which there were quite a few ) had sacrificed something to come out of that arena alive â if they hadnât had the courage to do so, she doubted they would be alive today. âThrowing away an entire fucking childhood for a few minutes of potential glory is not what I would consider courageous, either.â
Though I suspect you donât remember. She pauses at that, lip twitching as a spark of recognition floods her mind. âLeech.â She says quietly, recalling the name from the brief recaps of the reapings that had been playing on the train, âI knew that name sounded familiar. Colin? Creedence? No, no, that wasnât it.â She remembered the name, of course ( she remembered all of their names ), but she watches intently as the veins in Titusâ neck bulge, the sheer hatred towards her that seems to be seeping out of his every pore â she sees a wound, and she starts to dig.Â
âCaius, right? Tall, dark hair, brutish-looking?â Heâd been one of the tributes Johanna had been most wary of â and for good reason, in the end, heâd managed to make it to third place before Johanna had put him out of his misery. âI didnât know your brother, I donât know how hard he trained, or how much he wanted to win,â Her voice lilts mockingly, âBut if he was meant to, he would have, itâs just that simple.â She pauses, âMy strategy may not have been up to your Districtâs standards of how to win the Games â but it did the trick. Iâm sorry he had to die, but Iâm not going to sit here and be guilt-tripped because I did what I had to survive and your brother didnât have what it took to do the same.â
ââââ for titus, the pursuit of validation was not  foolish,  but necessary. without the games titus would have remained that small child being belittled by his family his entire life.  with victory would come the validation of proving them all wrong.  when he stood in front of his grandfather  &  claimed the ring on his finger for himself everything heâd done to get to that point would prove worthwhile. that was his prize,  not the money or the glory,  but  the satisfaction of proving the old bastard wrong  &  redefining the name leech so when it was uttered, it was only about titus.  the thought alone put a devious smile on his face,  â youâre wrong.â  his thumb stroked the surface of the ring slowly, a reminder to himself of what he was doing all this for,  â this is the only way i achieve the validation i seek .  that may not be important to you but for me,  validation is everything. â
a scoff escaped his lips at johannaâs preposterous notion of victory.  he didnât blame her for thinking in such a way,  even though he thought she was deluding herself.  of course all victories were  technically that,  a victory.  but what kind of personal victory did you receive from cowering in a corner, rather than fighting for your survival?  if you were to live whilst twenty-three other people died, it is your obligation to ensure you deserve it.  â there is where iâm from.  victory is no real victory if you donât earn it ... just like i earned my spot here. â  there was that word that titus found leaving his lips so frequently,   earn.  he had earned the right to fight to the death,  he would earn his right to be called a victor ... he would earn his right to ring on his finger,  or die trying.  â iâd rather waste my childhood than waste my life just waiting for death to come  &  take me away.â  that was no way to live.
once again,  titus found himself dancing a finger along the edge of the ring,  feeling the word leech engraved on the metal which johanna spoke so casually.  as she went through a list of names,  titusâ blood pressure rose just as it had done when cassia mentioned his brothers on the train.  he wasnât used to people saying caiusâ or ronanâs names,  they had been banned from the household after their losses,  their photos burned ... but from the woman who had killed him,  it felt different. Â
âthatâs him.â titus managed a nod whilst  trying to rid his mind of all those memories;  nameless graves,  empty chairs ... it was too much for him to think about  as he was just about to begin training for the games.  it seemed johanna wanted to rub salt in the wound though,  perhaps to throw him off his game so her tributes could have a leg up.  he wouldnât rise to it,  â caius was a good person.â  actually heâd been a bit of an asshole,  granted not as much as ronan,  but he still enjoyed taunting titus any chance he got,  â his death only makes me want to work harder to achieve what he couldnât. â  a devious smile spread across his lips as he tilted his head at johanna,  â  & believe me,  should i be gifted the chance of  revenge in the arena,  i wonât hesitate to take it. â  he needed not say more about what he was implying,  his bloodlust evident.  yet he couldnât help but return johannaâs taunting with some of his own,  â whatâs that weird girlâs name again ...  ellery?  i might just have to keep an eye out for her in the arena. â