A/N: Hello my dear chums. Welcome to Chapter 2. I apologise for my inability to write tragic goodbye scenes. Have a nice day!
Trying to retain as much dignity as possible whilst having a minor breakdown inside, I walk to my allocated room in the Justice Building and wait for my family. The room is all plushy and elegant. It's weird, seeing as it's basically a glorified abattoir.
Emily runs in. 'Scarlett, why do you have to go?!' She engulfs me in a huge hug.
My mother, still in her chef's whites, whispers: 'What are we going to do without you?'
I try to say what they say in all of the propaganda videos. 'Don't worry, be strong. I will win this for you and then the restaurant will be able to sell all of the luxury goods of the Capitol and we will be eternally rich and we'll never have to worry about anything ever again.'
'I don't want to be rich if it means you have to kill people,' sobs Emily. I am beginning to crack now and the Peacekeeper is checking his watch.
My father, for the first time in this fun family meeting, speaks. 'Remember what I taught you with the spear. Learn as many survival skills as possible but make sure you can be self-sufficient.'
We say our long goodbyes before the peacekeeper runs out of patience and brings Coral in.
'I'm so sorry,' she mumbles. 'You don't have to do that for me.'
I snort. 'Too late now. I've volunteered and my face is on TV in the Capitol. Trust me Coral; it's better this way.'
'Well you've got to win for me, yeah? I mean let's face it; it would really suck if you died and I could have won.' I laugh. Trust Coral to come up with something like that. We stare at each other for a bit, neither of us knowing what to say. We've been friends for years, ever since her parents bought the shop next door to The Flying Fish for their clothing business. Coral isn't the brightest fish in the sea, but she genuinely means well in everything she does. I'll be sorry to leave her behind.
Suddenly, Christian appears and says we have to go. They really don't give us long enough for this process. I give him one of my legendary death stares and follow anyway. Now I'm part of this, if I don't conform, I die. There is no middle ground.
We sit awkwardly in the car on the way to the station while Alvarina goes on about how amazing the Capitol is and how much we'll love it, if only for a few days. Christian, smart child, obviously knew this was going to happen, so he has a PMP (portable music player) with him to drown her out. He's got his music on so loud, I can hear it from here. It's that death metal stuff that I'm not a huge fan of, but it's better than Alvarina. I ask if he'll share it, and surprisingly he does. I make a mental note not to kill this one.
We arrive at the station and get on the train. It's even more luxurious than the room in the Justice Building. Alvarina escorts us into what looks like the main room.
'Meet your mentors!' she squeals.
Our mentors sit next to a table full of food. Finnick Odair is there, looking spectacular as usual with Annie Cresta and a girl who resembles her.
Finnick explains this odd arrangement. 'We decided to give poor old Mags a break this year so she can do the Quarter Quell next year, so Annie is the figurehead mentor and this here is Grace, her sister, who will be doing most of the actual mentoring.' He looks at Annie with such love. Those two are adorable. Shame about their situation, really.
'Now, let me get this straight, Finnick is paying me more than my family earned in a year before Annie won the Games to do this, so I will mentor you to the best of my abilities, but you need to keep it in mind that I don't actually want to be here at all,' says Grace. 'In my opinion, the vast majority of Capitolites are idiots and the ruling minority are highly functioning sociopaths, so you must make sure that you do not treat them like normal people. Be on your guard at all times and you should be fine. Well, that is, until one or both of you die. Then you can do what you want.'
Christian's eyebrows are practically in the ionosphere. I'm fairly sure mine are the same.
Finnick motions to the food. 'Do start everyone. Now, I wouldn't quite word it the way Grace did, but she is right. You must be very careful about what you say around Capitol people. Monitor everything, because they could take it the wrong way and that isn't good for your chances of survival.'
The food is amazing. If we had the facilities to sell this sort of stuff at The Flying Fish, we'd be set for life. We're pretty well off in 4, but there is a marked difference between our lives and those of the Capitolites.
Finnick teaches me the correct way to hold a throwing knife whilst Grace and Christian argue about the merits of Stab the Veil vs Snoozing with Sirens (glad to see they've got their priorities straight) before Annie starts covering her eyes and pointing at the television.
'Come on kiddies, time to watch the reapings,' says Grace, shepherding us towards the unnaturally fluorescent-blue sofa whilst Finnick goes off to try and calm Annie.
District 1 is the usual: shiny, pretty tributes that look like they've just come out of one of the luxury factories. District 2 provides us with a Hulk-esque boy and a strangely young girl. Grace elbows Christian. 'If you two could bond over your age, that would be great.' Christian rolls his eyes.
District 3's tributes are scrawny, but I take note of them anyway because they could be sneaky and clever. Then, it's us. I'm really regretting wearing that dress because the presenters are doing a running commentary on it.
'And we have a volunteer! Shame about that dress she's wearing, look at how awful the satin is! And that is a most garish shade of red…' Grace is giggling and even Christian is quietly grinning. Then, they start on Christian.
'Look at the size of him! He won't last 10 minutes!'
'You never know, maybe he's a fast runner or a great survivalist.'
'But let's face it; if he gets into battle with that boy from 2, he'll be finished.'
Christian was not amused. 'What do you think the likelihood is that I'll actually battle the boy from 2? I'll be high-tailing it as fast as possible in the other direction if he so much as looks at me.'
Grace smirks. 'We may make a victor out of you yet, little shrimp.'
