Two.

The 1st Hunger Games.

They're completely engrossed. They've been like that since the first death just moments ago, and they're still staring. It's disgusting. I move as quickly as I can, serving ordered drinks and refreshments. They're mostly ignored.

I glance over at the nearest screen just as a monstrous eighteen-year-old lopes off the head of a smaller, dark-skinned boy.

I drop the tray. Glass shatters. No one notices as I run for the bathroom.

I can't seem to keep my lunch down.