I Will Never Give Up If You

But Between The Images, We Are Privy To The Real-life Action Being Played Out On The Set. Peeta's Attempt To Continue Speaking. The Camera Knocked Down To Record The White Tiled Floor. The Scuffle Of Boots. The Impact Of The Blow That's Inseparable From Peeta's Cry Of Pain. And His Blood As It Splatters The Tiles.

You're Punishing Him Over And Over For Things That Are Out Of His Control.

Really, The Combination Of The Scabs And The Ointment Looks Hideous. I Can't Help Enjoying His Distress. "poor Finnick. Is This The First Time In Your Life You Haven't Looked Pretty?" I Say. "it Must Be. The Sensation's Completely New. How Have You Managed It All These Years?" He Asks. "just Avoid Mirrors. You'll Forget About It," I Say. "not If I Keep Looking At You," He Says.

Mostly We Just Add To The Piles Of Rainbow Glass That's Been Blown Off The Exteriors Of The Cany-colored Buildings.

We Each Get Fifteen Minutes Before The Gamemakers To Amaze Them With Our Skills, But I Don't Know What Any Of Us Might Have To Show Them. There's A Lot Of Kidding About It At Lunch. What We Might Do. Sing, Dance, Strip, Tell Jokes. Mags, Who I Can Understand A Little Better Now, Decides She's Just Going To Take A Nap.