Marvel's robust face falters once his name is called, but he quickly recovers. The crowd erupts into another roar of cheers, and this drives the cocky Marvel to flash out, and he strolls to the stage. I am not sure if anyone else notices his eyes, but I can make out pools of fear lurking in each one. Marvel may come off as a confident person, but he is not immune to fear.
"Marvel!" Cyra says with delight, like she's greeting an old friend. And that may be the case.
"Cyra, such an honor to see you once again," He says, all charm. He enfolds his arms around her, and she looks like a tooth pic compared to Marvel. Once he releases her, I can see the subtle pink blush in her cheeks.
"Marvel, what a charm you are. Now, may I present to you, our tributes for the 74th annual Hunger Games! What a perfect pair!" She exclaims. The crowd claps, and cheers for Marvel and I. They are extremely content with the choices. A deadly pair for a deadly game.
Marvel grips my hand in his, and thrusts our conjoined arms upwards, as if we've won a championship. And that's exactly how our mentors want the Capitol to see us as. Champions. I fight the urge to jerk away from him.
His face, as well as Cyra's, show nothing but happiness. Mine is an empty canvas.
"You two, follow me right this way," Cyra whispers to both of us. The crowd still cheers as we exit the stage, and Marvel is still holding my hand. The minute we are sheltered from the raging crowd, I rip my hand out of his. He raises a brow.
"What? You don't like me holding your hand?" He asks, mocking an innocent tone. I can tell he takes pleasure out of my frustration. I try to compose myself, but it's hard to keep calm when you're around someone like Marvel.
"No. Stay away from me," I speak through my teeth.
"Well, you better get use to it now, because there's a lot more where that came from…" He says in a liquid voice as he pulls a fallen strand of blonde hair out of my face. I jerk away from his touch, and all composure I've tried to achieve is dead.
"If you lay even a single finger on me while we're here, I won't wait until the Games to kill you," I growl.
Cyra has pretends she hasn't heard our conversation until now. She obtains each of my hands, as if she's afraid I won't be able to contain the violent side of me.
"Now now, dear. That won't be necessary. Actually, it won't be in the Games, either. The game-makers have changed the rules this year. Two tributes, no matter the district, can win. And I intend on both of you coming back in one piece," She says delightfully. Between the shock of being selected, and my outrage of Marvel's tranquility with all of this, I am a fuming mess of emotions.
"Tell him to lay off then!" I snap. I feel like a child, but I don't care.
"Now, sweet little Glimmer, you can't kill me in the Games. Which means I'll spare you… because, who would want such a pretty face gone? Such a waste. But try to control yourself, sweetheart. If this is what happens when you're angry, I'm going to have to win the Games for us, saving you while you're too flustered for your own good," Marvel says. My tolerance of him cracks, and my brain disconnects from my body. I move on impulse, my hands reaching for Marvel's throat while Cyra screams and tries to hold me back. She's a small lady, and I can get past her without difficulty. Right as I'm about to punch him in the face, a hand grips my arm rather tightly, pulling me back. I whip my head around and an exceptionally pretty woman. She's taller than me, has hazel eyes, and is looking directly at me. Her gaze isn't quite disapproving, but more curious of me.
"Whoa there, you're a feisty one, aren't 'cha? I'm going to like you a lot, Glimmer. But… for now, save all of this rage, and focus it on the Games when you're actually in the arena," She says with a chuckle.
"My apologies, this fool just knows how to push my buttons. I'm more in control of myself when I'm not faced with a bloodbath, and an idiot that's supposedly going to try and fight with me," I say sarcastically. I see Marvel roll his eyes.
"Well, once you both are in control, I'll give you the right training. With what I've seen of both of your fighting skills, we have a good shot at this. I forgot to properly introduce myself, I'm Cashmere, your mentor."
"I already have a mentor. Actually, I have three," I interjected.
"Yes, but those mentors train you on basic fighting. I am training you on how to actually win the Games."
"Yes, yes. We can discuss this on the train, you both have to say your farewells," Cyra urges. Her tender hands push at our backs, guiding us to a room I've never noticed before, despite the few times I've actually been in the Town Hall.
I realize what these rooms are for. Suddenly, I become extremely anxious. If Eli's in one of those rooms, how am I suppose to part from him easily? And my little brother? Kain's too young to support himself, he'll die without me.
"You two make this quick," She says, and scurries off. Probably to make personal arrangements for Marvel and I's needs. I open the door with a shaky hand. The door opens with a Creeeeeak! and there, stand my two favorite boys, in this entire disgusting World. I impulsively throw myself at each of them while hot tears begin to pulse down my face. I wish I wasn't such an easy crier.
"Glimmer… please don't leave me…" Eli whispers against my ear. His tone breaks my heart, but I know staying isn't a possibility for me. I try to remain strong, for them.
"I have to go, you know that. You have to take care of Kain while I'm gone," I say. I feel like I can't clutch them tight enough. I can hear Kain's quiet sobs. I wonder why he's crying now, when he suggested that I'd be so good in the Games earlier this morning. He probably hadn't grasped the reality of all of it. That I might not come back to him.
"You have to come back, you're you. You have to," Kain says. It sounded like he was trying to convince himself while speaking to me. I bend down to reach his level. I can't promise anything now, but I have to keep my brother sane enough while I'm fighting.
"I'll fight for you, Kain. I promise you, I will come back," I don't know if that was a lie, or a real promise, but I am determined to return to him. Eli tightens his grip around my waist, and pulls me against him in one last hug. It may be my last time seeing him. I can feel the pot of emotions within me begin to boil over. A Capitol guard is knocking at the door impatiently.
"Hurry it up!" He says.
Suddenly, I wrap my arms around Eli's neck, and crush my lips against his. I know it's not enough, but it's the most I can give him while I'm fighting to live. He throws himself into the kiss, squeezing me so tightly I can find myself practically lost in his grasp. Kain doesn't look, and I'm grateful for that. I need this moment with Eli.
"Five more seconds," The guard on the other side of the door says. I can tell he's annoyed, and impatient. I pull away from Eli, and he stops me to leave one more, sweet little kiss on my lips. By now, tears are rushing down my face like a waterfall. My eyes must be red and puffy. I feel as horrible as I look.
"Keep Kain safe. I'll come back to you," I whisper. I plant a gentle kiss onto Kain's forehead, and exit the room. They can't witness the emotional outburst I'm about to go through; it'd only bring them more pain then they're already suffering.
"Right this way, Ms. Deaton," The guard instructs. The train station is at the back of the Town Hall, which is convenient for me, because at this moment I just want to be alone. Marvel has the same red-eyed, solemn look as I do. I realize I've never seen him upset.
"Marvel! Glimmer! You two, follow me. I can take it from here," She reassures the guard. He gives her a quick nod.
The train is impeccable, not a speck of dust or dirt lay on it. It's almost as white as my skin, but a shade lighter. I've never seen something so clean. Cyra leads us to the entrance of the train, where two doors are already opened for us. I feel like I'm now personal property of the Capitol. The second we enter, the doors close, and the train races off. District one is left behind us. Cyra shows us to a room with different tables, various foods nestled among them. The room is as white and clean as the exterior of the train. I can see Marvel is just as stunned as I am.
"Both of you are allowed to anything here. You can both freshen up, the bedrooms are down that hall. Meet me here in twenty minutes," Cyra orders. Once I'm given the opportunity, I make my way down to the secluded rooms. I rush into the first room I see, and slam the door with unnecessary force. I press my back up against the door of the room and fall to my knees. I'm stricken with tears. The weight of homesickness already hits me, and seems to paralyze me to the floor. The floor is made of some type of material I'm not familiar with. It's not wood or marble, but it's hard, and cold. I won't make it to the bed. My body shakes with sobs, and the anger of being obligated to do these pointless games make me pound my fist against the floor. It's not fair. Why me? I have a twelve year old brother to look after, I'm the only family he's got, for crying out loud. And now, I'll be slaughtered on television, and everyone I've ever known will watch.