She doesn't smile, doesn't say thank you, and Cassian can't even blame her. Bitterness is a common trait in victory, and Jyn has barely scratched the surface of hers. The camera goes off a few more times in their handshake, continues flashing as Jyn stands there to be celebrated.

He remembers bits and pieces of his own speech; they rarely change between Districts, unless switching up a line or two will appeal more to a specific audience.

Perhaps the worst part of this is that he knows one of the families standing there on the special podium, their grief just another show for the Capitol. It infuriates him year after year, it hammers away at the guilt that threatens to bury him whenever he comes home without any children. The Games destroy move lives as a whole than they physically take, and Jyn's father creates them. The thought infuriates him, but everything about the Games does.

When Jyn says nothing but her apology instead, her team and his both look scandalized, and before he can think about it, Cassian steps up to the microphone in her stead. "Do you want to know a secret?" He pauses, for the benefit of the Capitol audience. "All the excitement is exhausting, I can hardly blame Jyn for being so tired. But there is still so much to celebrate here in our great District."

The mood shifts, at least where it's supposed to. He's never talking to his own District when he chats away so cheerfully.