"You'll love this train. We'll have to feed you, of course, which we will on the train, and it will be a surprise to you, how nice the train is. But it's going to be a short journey, only a night, because District 2 is so close to the Capitol, of course," the escort, Ray Corazon, told them.
He was a short man, his hair dyed turquoise and in stark contrast to his purple skin. He seemed singularly unconcerned with them as they walked into the lavishly decorated train, and he immediately disappeared. Rosalie turned towards the door behind which he'd disappeared, but Cato caught her hand.
"Relax," he told her as he pulled her into his embrace, his hips gyrating gently against her. She rolled her eyes and smacked him on the ass, and he laughed loudly. She wondered how he could still be so carefree.
"So you're the two idiots I have to spend the next week with?" A low, growly voice cut Cato's laughter off abruptly. He immediately took a menacing step towards the source of the voice, a great hulking man with chilling blue eyes and messy blonde hair.
"I don't know who you think you are, but no one fucking talks to me like that," Cato growled between his teeth. Rosalie grabbed one of his clenched fists and tugged on it, pulling him back to her and refusing to let him go. Before Cato remembered how much stronger he was than her and attacked this man anyway, she quickly walked up to him, placing herself strategically between Cato and the man.
"Hello, I'm Rosalie and this is Cato. I assume you are our mentor…?" She trailed off, her gaze prompting him to introduce himself. "Romeo Ceasear," he introduced himself gruffly. She smiled brightly at him. "You mentored my brother as well!" she exclaimed. When he stared at her blankly, she told him, "Caleb Montague."
The rest of the day passed rather uneventfully; Rosalie wasn't sure why the Career districts even needed mentors, since they'd been prepped for this since they could walk, practically. Romeo's surly attitude continued to grate on Cato, but she wasn't bothered.
Dinner was a lavish, scrumptious affair. Courses after courses were brought out, and each course comprised of expensive and rare ingredients, meats, herbs and spices.
After dinner, they all retired to their respective rooms. Rosalie sat gingerly on her large bed; it was so plush and comfortable she felt rather out of place on it. She stood up and walked over to her overnight bag; it was all she had been allowed to bring, since, as the escort had told her, everything would be provided for her in the Capitol. She hadn't changed out of her dress since she'd been called up, since the Peacekeepers hadn't allowed her to leave. Instead, her mother and sister had been told to bring her some necessities and a spare set of clothes.
She hoped her sister had packed her something comfortable; she knew her mother would pack the prettiest pieces of clothing she owned, and while those were very nice and flattering on her, they were extremely uncomfortable.
She dug into her bag and found two sets of clothes; a tank top with a star print and a pair of drawstring shorts, and a pretty sundress, which she was sure had been her mother's doing.
She changed into the tank top and shorts, exhaling in relief as the comfort of her old clothes seeped into her. Lying back down onto the bed, she tried again to fall asleep, but failed.
Finally, she gave up and decided to look for Cato instead. As she walked to his room, she marveled at how fast they were going, and yet it was so smooth, it was almost like they weren't even moving!
As she let herself into Cato's room, he looked up from the television, where he was nonchalantly flipping channels. He grinned at her when he saw her. "Look, they have such large screens! And what clear definition!" he exclaimed. She rolled her eyes, although it was true. Back home, they were only given small television sets, and nowhere near as many channels as this.
She snuggled next to him on the bed, and started watching the TV with him. He was watching a talk show, where a rerun of some parts of a previous Hunger Games was playing. Her breath caught in her throat as she watched a boy viciously smash another boy's head with a brick until his eyes closed and he died. The victor then lifted the brick, and she gasped as she saw the blood on it.
Then he turned, and in his chilling eyes, she saw a tundra wasteland. "That… that's my brother," she said in a choked voice, her eyes filling up. Shock, fear and sympathy shot through her – shock that her loving brother had looked like that, his eyes so flat and emotionless, fear that she would end up like that, and finally, sympathy, not just for her brother but for the rest of the Victors, who weren't really victors at all, because they had to live with the burden of knowing they had cost twenty-three other people their lives.
Cato hugged her tightly, and rubbed her back with his huge hands, as she rested her head on his shoulder, enjoying his warmth and strength. "Cato, you have to kill me."
He stiffened and slowly released her, so he could pull back and look into her eyes. "What?" he asked in shock.
"When the Games start. You have to kill me, and then you have to win. Please. I don't want - " her voice choked, and she had to clear her throat and begin again. "I don't want to be like that. I can't kill, Cato. You know that. I don't want to either. You have to kill me. Please. As soon as the Games start. And you have to win for me. Because I want someone to remember me not as the anomaly of District 2, the freak who can't kill. Even my family thinks I'm strange.
"You're probably the only person who sees me as a person, a real person, and accepts me. So please, Cato. I want you to do it, because I know you'll make it as quick and painless as possible. I'm counting on you."
Cato stared at her, horrified. How could he kill her? He'd thought about volunteering this year, but it wasn't until she'd gone up, her face set blankly but her eyes showing such a wealth of pain, that he'd actually volunteered. It hadn't been about his superior abilities, but about protecting her.
So how could he kill her? He shook his head slowly in denial. "I can't kill you, Rose."
Her head whipped up in response to that. "You have to," she insisted. "If you don't someone else will, and I couldn't bear that. Besides," she added with a shrug, "The viewers will lap it up if you actually kill someone from your District. It will increase your chances of winning."
Then the blasé façade faded, and she suddenly looked so small and vulnerable. "Please, Cato. You have to do it."
His shoulders slumped. Put that way, he seemed like the bad guy for not honouring her request. "Fine," he mumbled. She smiled beautifully and hugged him. "Thank you, Cato," she whispered gratefully. It baffled him that she would thank him for agreeing to kill her, but he didn't voice his thoughts, and just hugged her back.
Exhausted, Rosalie fell asleep soon after, with her head on Cato's chest. But Cato couldn't sleep, haunted by the promise that he'd made. Looking down at her, sleeping peacefully, he brushed a lock of hair back, away from her face. For the first time, he felt resentment against the Games, and felt helplessness.
He was basically caught in a lose-lose situation; he had to kill Rosalie, or watch her be killed. He knew he couldn't die before her because he had to look out for her. How he wished that the Hunger Games was a team event. Then they could work together, and win together. Or die together, because he couldn't live without her. Trite though it sounded, she'd been there basically all his life.
He remembered the day they'd met, when she was four and he was five, at the playground at the school. Of course, aggressive behaviour had been condoned, even encouraged, but when a trio of large seven-year-old boys advanced on him threateningly, he'd cowered, terrified, sure that he was going to get beaten up that day.
Suddenly, a tiny brunette Valkyrie, with her hair done adorably in two long braids, had jumped in front of him and scowled ferociously at the boys. "Get away from him!" she'd yelled at them. When they merely laughed and continued towards them, she'd run forwards and kicked the leader in the shins so hard he'd fallen to his knees with a cry of pain.
Needless to say, they'd all run off, embarrassed to say that they'd been defeated by a tiny little pixie. When she was satisfied with how far they'd run away, she turned and walked back towards him with a concerned look on her face. "Are you all right?" she asked, and he was sure he'd fallen for her then.
They'd been best friends, then childhood sweethearts, and he wondered how it was possible for him to fall for her a little more each day when they already knew each other inside out.
He forced himself to sleep because he knew that it would be a hectic few days, and he needed all the energy he could get. Still, it wasn't a deep sleep. He slept lightly and fitfully, tossing and turning until Rosalie, annoyed, smacked him sleepily in the middle of his chest before cuddling back up to him.
The next morning, Rosalie had to go back to her room to change into her pretty sundress, which was a light pastel pink, almost white. Since Romeo had told them the make a good first impression on the sponsors, she wore some jewelry that her mother had packed for her, and cute sandals.
When she walked into the dining cabin, Romeo sneered at her when he saw her. "Oh, look it's a fairy!" he exclaimed mockingly. Ignoring him, she calmly sat down at her place. "Good morning, Cato, Romeo," she said coolly. "I trust you slept well?"
Cato growled threateningly at Romeo. "Be. Polite," he gritted out, his brows an angry slash over his eyes. Romeo laughed. "Or you'll do what? Scoop my eyes out with a spoon?"
After that, the rest of the breakfast was awkward. Cato and Rosalie spoke softly to each other, while Rosalie made small attempts to include Romeo into their conversation, only to be rebuffed by a sneer or an insult, which made Cato angry, and then she would have to placate him by squeezing his hand gently and soothingly under the table
Suddenly, the escort, who had remained relatively silent throughout the meal, spoke up. "Ah, we're almost there!" he exclaimed. Soon enough, within five minutes, the train pulled into the station at the Capitol and stopped. The sound of cheering greeted them, and Cato and Rosalie went to the window to smile and wave graciously, displaying their held hands for everyone to see.
As they exited the train, Rosalie and Cato continued to hold hands as they waved at the excited Capitol citizens, who were dressed and coloured very strangely indeed. Rosalie saw a woman with long spidery eyelashes, tipped with neon pink, and wondered how her eyelids could hold such a heavy weight and remain open.
Upon entering the building, they were separated and taken to their prep teams. Rosalie was waxed all over, had her eyebrows plucked and was hosed down and moisturized to within an inch of her life.
Wondering if the same thing was happening to Cato, she had to stifle a giggle as she imagined him having his legs waxed.
Then they were sent together to meet their stylist, Sinjin, for the opening parade that night.
Sinjin, a tall man with naturally pale skin, black hair and black eyes, wore no makeup, and an easygoing outfit to match his demeanor. However, when it came to style, it seemed that he knew everything, and he dressed them up accordingly.
"The two of you are from District 2, which specializes in mining stones, correct?" he asked. They nodded in affirmation. "That includes gemstones. So we are going to make you look beautiful," he declared. "You will stand out from the crowd, because you know everyone else will try their best to do the same."
He fashioned their clothes around amethyst, lace agate, and rose quartz. Rosalie wore her hair in a simple classical updo, with wisps of hair framing her face, and an intricately made tiara with some gems in it. She wondered absently how Sinjin had managed to procure such a treasure and at such short notice, as she was dressed and polished.
Cato looked significantly more uncomfortable than she did, as he was poked, prodded and eventually, dressed in an outfit similar to hers – only more masculine, of course.
While they stood in their chariot, preparing to be presented to the Capitol citizens, Cato grumbled about the colour combination. "Purple and pink? That's gay. We should have gone for obsidian instead," he complained. Rosalie laughed softly and nudged him with her shoulder. "I think it looks very sexy on you," she told him, looking at him from under her lashes.
Still feeling like his dignity had been insulted, but feeling somewhat placated by Rosalie's reassurances, he turned towards the closed doors and waited for them to open.
He didn't have to wait long. Almost immediately, the doors opened, and light flooded into the dark room as the chariots began moving. The sound and sight of cheering Capitol citizens flooded his senses, and he was struck for a moment by the grandeur of it all.
Hehe I hope you guys like this one! (:
I received some questions and comments by unsigned reviewers, so I'll just reply to them here. Those who submitted signed reviews, I will directly answer any questions via PM.
To Anon: It's pronounced Ciara. (: Genevieve: Thank you! (: I try to make Cato appear mean and stuff to other people but nice to Rosalie, because I believe that he does have a nice side, and it's just that the Games brings out the worst in him (:
Thank you for all your support and encouragement, everyone. Also, I know I have been updating really fast, but that's because I had a long weekend this weekend. The next few weeks will be really hectic and busy for me, so I hope you guys understand if I upload chapters much more slowly! (:
Love,
Peachy Hikaru
