Hi guys :D This used to be my first ever HUNGER GAMES fanfic, but I decided to update it a little. It's still the same content, but the words changed a little and it's also gonna be a little longer. Tell me what you think :D
DISCLAIMER: I do not own HUNGER GAMES!
Blue Jay
Coated in Seaweed
"Good news!" shrieks Ellie, my designated escort. Today she's wearing "just" five inch high heels, a florescent turquoise wig and clothes, that seem to be a cross between Victorian ball gown and a bad accident with spray paint. With her being so excited I can't help dreading what she's about to say. "The train will be picking us up early! We get to leave today, isn't that fantastic?" Ugh, really fantastic! I can't think of anything more entertaining than sitting on a stuffed out train heading for the Capitol, leaving behind my beloved home, District 10. That alone would have been bad enough, but not even having our own train is agony. Due to fuel shortages, some districts will be travelling together.
Come on now Sammy, I scold myself, you don't even know who you'll be travelling with. Maybe it's someone nice like… no one comes to mind. It's only been a year since I won the Hunger Games, so I've never met any of the previous victors personally. I've seen them on TV though, and believe me, it's not how you want to end up. Most of them are drug-addicted, mental or alcoholics, (or all of it at once) because they can't stand the pain of having killed people. But there are also a few who don't seem to have any problems at all, which I find even more repulsive.
The real reason we're going to the Capitol is a mystery to anyone. They said it's for a special Hunger Games After-Party, but I don't believe it. I think it's because of the growing unrest in the districts. The logic behind it seems simple, if they got our victors they got everything; our bravest warriors, our attention, our influences, our last hope.
Every district is to send at least one of their victors. I don't know whether it's because I'm the last victor and everyone knows me or because the other two guys are wizened and mad, but I'm the only one from 10 going. In fact District 10 hasn't had a victor in half a century.
After spending the following hours with my prep team (who keep fussing about my short nails and wild hair), I finally get on the train. I feel sore all over. It's not like my prep team isn't careful enough, but getting every single body hair plucked, is predestined to be painful.
I can smell it from the moment I enter the train: Bread. The smell is faint, almost completely covered by saltiness and mixed with the odor of spices I do not recognize. I can hear my stomach grumble (Ellie gives me a disapproving look) and I decide to better look for the bread, giving off such an intoxicating smell.
I have to walk through the entire length of the train before I reach the dining compartment. Everything seems to be roughly the same as usual. Except one thing, there's a basket with bread on the dining table. I narrow my eyes; even though the Capitol train is full of food compared to District 10, it's usually not exactly lying around. Unless it's dinnertime, you have to ask for it – politely. Looks like someone ordered it and then forgot about it. This is weird. How can you forget food?
As I have a closer look, I notice it's not the hard darkish bread we normally eat in 10. Not even the soft white Capitol bread we normally get on train rides. It's fish shaped and seems to be coated in what appears to be seaweed. When I break it apart I notice it has huge holes in it. This is getting weirder by the minute. I sniff it tentatively, not trusting the seaweed. Underneath the salt and seaweed I can smell something else – rosemary. My stomach gives another loud grumble and – hunger overcoming caution – I decide to take a bite.
"Are you so starved in 10 that even the victors don't get enough food?"
I whip around. I was so focused on the bread, I didn't hear him come into the dining compartment, but there he is: Finnick Odair, the Finnick Odair; Victor from District 4 and sex idol of the Capitol. He spends his time at the Capitol being dogged by those desperately in love with him. No one retains his favor for long. He can go through six or seven during his annual hunger games visit. Old or young, man or woman, lovely or plain, rich or very rich, he'll keep them company and take their exorbitant gifts, but he never stays, and once he's gone, he never comes back. He is one of those victors who don't seem to be bothered at all by their gruesome actions during the games. Disgusting.
Even If I had never seen the Hunger Games I still would have known him. I heard girls raving about him at school, putting pictures of him in their lockers. Just for the record; I never did.
Still, none of what anyone's saying even comes close to his beauty. Lean, hard muscle, bronze skin, hair that's shimmering somewhere between gold and copper and those eyes; the color of the sea, indefinable between blue and green, glittering wickedly at me. He is one of the most stunning, sensuous and attractive people in all of Panem. He knows he is sexy and uses it.
For a moment I'm so perplexed I forget chewing the seaweed bread. But even when my confusion ebbs away, I can't come up with an answer to this. It's weird because usually I'm not the one short for a funny response. Finnick smirks triumphantly. He moves slowly up to me until his face is barely an inch away from mine. "People in 10 must be starving to death if even you have to steal food" That brings me back to reality. "Didn't steal it" I snap. "I just ate it! That's different!" With that I turn on my heel and trench back to my compartment.
Great. I feel embarrassed and not just about freezing at the sight of him and being unable to come up with a witty answer. It's about what he said. People must be starving to death if even you have to steal food. Well, he's from 4, the fishing district, as we call it, where they can probably just dive into the ocean and get some crabs or whatever; but in 10 it's different. Since we breed livestock you might think we can just take some of the food ourselves, but no. Every single animal is catalogued and you'd probably get publicly executed for stealing so much as a goat. Of course if you have the right job you might be able to sneak away a bit of milk, eggs or – if you're lucky – even a baby chicken. But most people are starving anyway and it becomes a growing problem. As a victor I get supplies and money from the Capitol, but seeing all the hungry faces around me I just can't take it all myself, even if I wanted; instead I spread out all my food over as many people as possible, which is also why I end up hungry most days. I don't know why I feel so terribly insulted though. It's true what Finnick said; before I survived the Games, I stole pig forage almost every day to keep myself and my brother alive.
