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Cinna walks into the victor prep room and finds that Finnick is already stretched out on the table, lying on his stomach, with a white sheet draped over his back. Cinna wonders at the sheet — it's not a usual thing to see in a prep room. Maybe he's cold?
Despite having been a prep for District 4 for several months now, Cinna has only ever spoken to Finnick Odair in passing. He's the district's big star which means that the more experienced preps are usually assigned to him. But Camila and Augustina had both called in sick today which means that the job of prepping Finnick falls to Cinna. Finnick is supposed to model underwear for a popular brand in a couple of hours.
"Hello, Finnick," Cinna says.
"Hey, Cinta," Finnick replies.
"Cinna."
"Oh, right."
Finnick doesn't look up from the magazine he's reading. Cinna notes that it's a fishing magazine which is a subject about which Cinna is completely ignorant and therefore can't make small talk about. Finnick sounds bored anyway, so Cinna decides to cut straight to the chase.
"I'm told that you have a bruise?" Cinna asks. They'd told him that he might have to cover bruising.
There is a long silence.
"You could say that," Finnick says, at last.
"Do you mind if I remove the sheet?"
"Knock yourself out."
Cinna lifts the cotton sheet and lets it fall to the floor. He has to refrain from gasping when he sees the state that Finnick is in. Finnick is a pretty athletic guy and Cinna had been expecting a sports-related injury. Instead, his back, buttocks, and legs are covered in bruises and lacerations. Cinna can clearly see the shape of a belt in places and the marks seem almost artfully applied, as if someone was consciously considering what shapes the bruises would make when whipping Finnick.
"What—"
"I believe she calls it 'an exquisite tapestry of pain,'" Finnick says, turning a page of his magazine.
"Who?"
"Mommy."
Cinna is about to stupidly ask if his mother did this when he realizes that Finnick doesn't mean that kind of Mommy. Of course, it must be a kinky sex thing. Finnick does have quite the reputation. Not that Cinna pays much attention to that sort of gossip.
"I … think you need to see a doctor, not a prep," Cinna says.
"Already seen him, already prescribed pain pills and something for the swelling," Finnick says in the same bored voice that he's been using.
"I just …" Cinna finds himself trailing off as he looks at the ugly marks.
"You just what?"
"I don't mean to kink shame—"
Finnick meets his eyes for the first time since Cinna entered the room.
"Don't worry," he says. "It's not my kink."
He turns his attention back to the magazine. It's on Cinna's lips to ask him why he does it then before he tells himself to mind his own business. Sometimes people try something like that for a partner or just as an experiment and it's really none of Cinna's business. They're not supposed to pry too closely into the personal affairs of the victors anyway.
"Well. At any rate, I can cover the discoloration, but I'm not sure what we can do about the swelling on such short notice. You're doing a photoshoot in underwear, correct?"
"Yeah," Finnick says. "But don't worry, they've already figured all that out. All the bruising is on my backside, so they're just going to take pictures from front today. And they'll do ones from the back some other day. You’re just meant to make me a bit more presentable for the camera crew."
"Oh. Well. Okay."
Cinna rifles through drawers, finding the stuff he needs to work on Finnick. He makes sure to dig out several types of concealer. As he's doing this, he notices a sapphire ring on Finnick's index finger, the only thing that Finnick is wearing. Cinna recognizes the make. It comes out of a high end jewelry studio that Cinna has always admired.
"I like your ring," he says, hoping to lighten the mood a bit.
"Oh, thanks," Finnick says. "Mommy is very generous."
His eyes flick up to meet Cinna's again, just for a second, but now Cinna sees something that he hadn't seen the first time — Finnick has been crying.
Cinna sets down the bottle of makeup he's holding and pulls up a chair beside Finnick.
"Finnick. Are you okay?" he asks.
Finnick puts down the magazine and sighs.
"You know, I'm really not," he says.