I read the sentence, "Ask Sumari for the letter." All of that just for this stupid sentence. I thought it would be some super secret but apparently I'm just being messed with.
Crumpling the paper in my fist, I turn towards the Avox girl and ask through gritted teeth, "Who the hell is Sumari?"
My tone frightens her. She takes a step back from me and shakily points to herself.
"Give me the damn letter," I demand. She looks at me, confused. I've had it.
"I'm tired of these stupid, fucking games," I say, slowly and forcefully. Stepping forward, I knock the tray out of her hands and it clatters noisily against the floor.
Grabbing her by the front of her shirt, I pull Sumari towards me so our faces are only inches apart and whisper, "You better figure it out. I'll give you two minutes to find this letter, or else I'm gonna show you just what I learned in the academy." It's an empty threat. I wouldn't really hurt her, but I'm annoyed and want to get this figured out.
Frantically, Sumari starts patting down her uniform, checking to see if somehow she has this letter. I can see the dread in her expression as she comes up empty-handed. She falls to her knees and crawls over to where the tray lays on the floor, flipping it over and checking its side compartments.
The box that I took from the tray earlier still sits on my bed. I pick it up and examine the sides and bottom for any secret compartments, even ripping out the silk lining but find nothing. In anger, I smash the box against the floor and crouch down, hoping to find something in the remains but have no such luck.
I move back over to the bed and sit down. Closing my eyes, I work to control my breathing to help calm me down. I know this isn't Sumari's fault. Leta put her in a bad situation.
As I go to lay back on the bed, I feel the crunch of paper underneath me. Leaning up a bit, I grab whatever I was laying on and bring it in front of me. It's the gold foil wrapping paper and to my surprise, I notice writing on the non-foil side. Scanning the writing quickly, I notice it's a genuine letter.
"You can stop looking," I say. "Found it." I hear her breathe in relief. As she moves to leave my room, I call out to her to tell Leta she owes me.
Laying back down on the bed, I start to read the letter. Just then, there's a knock on my door.
"Cato, come out for breakfast," a female voice calls.
"Give me a few minutes," I yell out. "I haven't finished getting dressed." I lay the letter back down, frustrated that I've been interrupted.
Getting up off the bed, I put on the rest of my clothes and then finish up in the bathroom by brushing my teeth, styling my hair and putting on deodorant. After neatly folding the letter, I slide it into my pocket for safekeeping.
As I exit my room, I am practically barreled over by my squealing escort, Kiki. I push her off me as the stench of her perfume makes me want to gag. Her ensemble mimics the golden gladiator costumes Clove and I wore during the tribute parade which stands out against her naturally dark skin. Her magenta hair doesn't particularly go with her look, but what do I know? I'm pretty clueless when it comes to fashion, instead sticking mostly to safe, solid, neutral colors. Anything fashionable I own came specifically from the Sorenson's stylist.
"I just knew we'd have a winner this year. You were magnificent, Cato!" she exclaims and leads me towards the living room of the apartment. Sitting on the couches are Brutus and Enobaria, previous Victors and this year's mentors from District 2.
"Not bad," Brutus says. "You gave the audience what they wanted; a bloody, brutal show," he adds as he stands up from the couch. The tall, green-eyed man offers his hand out to the raven haired woman sitting next to him, helping her stand up. "Though the ending was shit. You should have just gutted that girl when you had the chance."
"Yeah, well she's dead now and I won so that's all I care about," I reply gruffly. "My only regret is that I couldn't bring Clove home with me."
This causes Enobaria to erupt in a fit of laughter, her gold-tipped, pointed teeth on display in her open mouth. "Oh, I'm sure you'll have more regrets real soon," she roars.
I round on her, fists clenched. "What's that supposed to mean?" I demand. Is she just assuming that or does she know something that I don't?
"Stop it. Enough!" warns Brutus. "Let's just eat lunch. It's going to be a long day. There's the interview, the crowning ceremony and then some victory party after." At that, Brutus makes his way over to the dining room table and sits down. Enobaria and our escort join him.
"I've never heard of them putting on a victory party before the Victory Tour," I say, taking the remaining place setting at the table. My eyes flash to the empty seat across from me and I suddenly feel numb.
"Snow wants it," Brutus replies, but I don't listen much after as I let my mind wander. I haven't had the time to really grieve Clove. Truthfully, I didn't think her death would even phase me. I knew it was part of being a tribute and with both of us being here, it had to be one of us. I guess I let myself get too attached when the announcement was made that two could win if they were both from the same district.
On the plate in front of me sits the smallest portion of a meal I've ever been given. It doesn't take me long to finish but I'm full. Having not eaten a lot the past few weeks has led to my stomach shrinking. I'd been through similar situations while going through training back home at the academy so this was no surprise.
The conversation at the table drifts to favorite moments from the games and I occasionally reply "uh huh," though I'm not really paying attention. The topic forces my mind to wander back to some memorable moments in the arena. I felt the most confident and in control when all my allies were alive, naturally. All hell broke loose the moment we crossed paths with the girl from 12.
It's like Enobaria is reading my thoughts when she speaks her next words. "Can you believe it?" Enobaria says, her voice dripping with disdain. "A nobody from district 12 wiping out the mighty Careers. I was totally embarrassed when Clove died," and she glares at me with a look that lets me know she blames me. This enrages me.
"Fuck this," I say through gritted teeth. I push back from the table and stand, knocking my chair over in the process.
Adding fuel to the fire, Enobaria taunts, "Maybe you shouldn't be the Victor. A real Victor doesn't let their emotions get the best of them."
Brutus is already up, ready to stop me from throttling her. For a man in his 40's, he's still pretty fit and would have no problem beating my ass. Holding an arm out to my chest, Brutus tries to reason with me and says pointedly, "Cato, it isn't worth it."
He tries to lead me from the dining area, but I can't help but want to cause a little destruction before I leave. Pulling out of his grasp, I pick up my fallen chair and smash it onto the table, causing food and coffee to splatter all over Enobaria. I can't help but to laugh boastfully, while Enobaria is having no such fun. If looks could kill, I'd be dead.
Much to my enjoyment, Kiki is also covered in a mess of food. She jumps up from her chair, screeching in a huff about manners, but I pay no attention to her. Instead, I willfully allow Brutus to lead me from the dining area while keeping my eyes locked on Enobaria as she wipes her face off with a linen napkin.
Once we're in the foyer of the apartment, Brutus releases his grasp on my arm. Pulling me around to face him, he says sternly, "I hope that little tantrum back there made you feel better because I don't want to see that shit again. Learn to control your anger."
"It's her fault," I snap, while scowling. "She kept running her mouth about Clove, knowing she was making me pissed. I want to rip her fucking head off." I could feel my adrenaline pick up again, my heart thudding in my chest.
Surprisingly, Brutus gives me a sympathetic look but warns me that fighting is still a punishable offense in the Capitol. "Ignore Enobaria," he says. "She knows what buttons to push to set you off, specifically the subject of Clove." Leading me over to the elevator, he tells me to blow off some steam in the training center but to be back in time to get ready for tonight's interview.
I step inside the elevator shortly after pressing the call button. As I head down to the training center, I realize that Brutus is doing me a favor. I'm glad that I didn't have to have a heart to heart with him as I'm not a man of many words.
When the doors open, I exit the elevator and turn left to walk towards the double doors of the training center. A simple tug reveals the doors to be unlocked, though the room is dark. The lights must be triggered by sensor because they automatically turn on once I walk through the doors.
What used to be a room filled with the muffled chatter of tributes and the clanking of weapons is now eerily silent with a slightly haunted feel. As I glance around, I see the ghosts of my former allies; Marvel throwing spears, Glimmer trying to use a bow and Clove chucking knives at various targets, a sparkle of glee in her eyes. Clove. She received the highest honor a trainee could obtain and that is to have your name picked during the reaping instead of volunteering. No one dared volunteer after she was picked.
I think back to Enobaria's words and her blaming gaze. If I had just said no to Clove when she begged me to let her take Fire Girl, she might still be here. But I gave in to let her have her fun while I stalked around for Loverboy.
No, I shake my head. It wasn't my fault. The games are about keeping yourself alive, not someone else. Even if Clove and I had made it to the end, I could just imagine the game makers announcing the rule change was revoked. In a way, I am glad it was not by my hands that she died though I'm also glad I could avenge her.
The room is set up in the exact same fashion it was prior to the games, except there are no practice dummies set out. They're all packed tightly in neat rows in an alcove near the sword station so at least it won't be too difficult to set up.
I'd like nothing more than to grab a sword and start hacking and slashing, but my muscles feel a bit tight from not moving them around the past 3 days I was bedridden. A few runs through the endurance obstacle course should help loosen me up.
The obstacle course frustrates me. My limbs feel heavy and slow as I attempt to run through it. I know that I am going faster than most people would but I still push myself to go faster and harder. When I successfully reach the end, I turn back and scowl at the thing. It brings reminders of everything that happened before the Games, standing by Clove, Marvel, and Glimmer laughing at the District 12 boy when he fell. I can almost hear the gleeful laughter echoing in my ears.
I shake it off, clearing the images of my old allies from my mind as I see the practice dummies piled in a corner. I pick out ten of them, arranging them in an organized pattern.
I make my way over to the swords and pick one that's exactly like what I used in the arena. The weight of it is perfect. Extending my arm, I swirl the sword through the air in a display of showmanship.
Facing the dummies, I start to go through a sword exercise I learned during training in District 2. At first, my moves are fluid and calculated but as I let the events of the past few weeks sink in, I start losing control. The worst was Clove dying in my arms. At least I was there to comfort her. She didn't die alone. We were friends but I certainly didn't think I'd feel this terrible about her death. Feelings were for the weak, we were taught. The last time I felt like this was when I found out my parents died. I can feel my eyes start to burn, but I will myself not to cry.
All this anger drives me into a frenzy, hacking aimlessly at the dummies to release my rage. It only further infuriates me when I think how the ever elusive Fire Girl died right in front of me and I didn't even get to see it happen. I didn't get to witness my own victory. I make quick work of the dummies I've arranged, scattering their pieces around the station.
I sense a human presence behind me before I even hear them, but I don't bother to give them the courtesy of turning around. Thinking it's Brutus or my escort, I ask what they want.
"Lost my knife," the voice says. I spin around, not recognizing the voice to find Haymitch Abernathy standing over by the knives and daggers. "Figured I'd come down here to get a new one. Not like anyone's going to be needing these soon," he continues and gestures towards the weapons.
Haymitch is the district 12 mentor and only living Victor within the district, winning the 2nd Quarter Quell. He takes one of the knives but doesn't make a move to leave the room. Instead, he watches me.
"Do you mind, old man?" I ask, turning back to continue my destruction of the dummies. I'm annoyed that he's still staring at me. A whoosh of air past my ear and a solid 'thunk' catches me off guard. The knife Haymitch had been holding mere moments ago was now embedded into the bullseye of my next target.
"Arrogance is gonna be your downfall," he says. "Don't let age fool you, kid. It's when you let your guard down that you'll receive a knife in the back."
"Are you threatening me?" I growl.
"Not at all," he replies and then takes a swig from the flask he pulls from his jacket. "Take it as a warning, kid. You may have won, but the game is far from over."
"Says the drunk who hasn't brought a tribute home in the 24 years since he won," I sneer. "What could you possibly know?"
"Let me guess," he says as he scans the area around me. "Victory doesn't taste as sweet as you thought? It doesn't live up to the images displayed on television or whatever you were taught during training back in your district?"
I just glare at him, not answering. I'm not going to share my feelings with him no matter how close to the truth he is. He's right though, but I'm sure it'll get better once I'm around more people. Isolation and idle minds tends to lead to over imagination.
"Right. I didn't think so," he replies, answering his own question while pointing to the destruction at my feet. "I witnessed you release your anger on those dummies a few minutes ago. Gotta be something awfully bad to make you that angry. You're alive, but things are a lot different than what you expected, ey?"
I still don't respond, but I can tell he knows what I'm going through, that I'm not just some robotic killer.
Haymitch then walks over to the archery area and runs his fingers along the curve of a bow. "They say for honor, glory, pride," he says, a faraway look in his grey eyes. "What they don't tell you about is the loss, the eventual nightmares, and yes, the eventual guilt. That's a victor's dirty little secret. I have a feeling you're not a sociopath, though you do borderline on crazy sometimes." The last part he says jokingly which earns a chuckle from me and a smile from Haymitch. Weird.
Haymitch starts talking about how the Victors band together, regardless of district. That we're the only support system each other has and to remember who the real enemy is. He doesn't have to say it for me to know he's speaking about the Capitol.
I know that Haymitch is trying to get me to trust him, but I'm not sure why. And speaking ill about the Capitol is highly dangerous. You could end up an Avox or perhaps they'll just kill you. I've always been taught to show loyalty and respect to the Capitol, but I'm not about to go rat him out.
"You don't come out of a situation like that without being a little messed up, even if you are a Career," he says.
"Was," I correct him. The other districts, they call people like me a Career although this wasn't the direction my life was headed before my parents died. Careers are tributes who have trained their entire lives for the games. They're typically from the wealthier districts of 1, 2 and 4. That's their Career, and most of them die. I'm no longer a Career now that the games are over, nothing to work towards anymore, and that makes me feel sorta empty inside.
"You've surprised me kid," he says while shaking his head, though I'm not quite sure what he means by that. Perhaps it's because I didn't go all crazy on him, something I certainly would have done before the games.
"Cato," I say, correcting him again.
"Anyway, I'll see you later at the fe... the banquet," Haymitch says as he starts to leave. "After all, they do have the best alcohol. You should get yourself going as well, otherwise your escort will have a fit," and with that, he's gone.
Well, the guy's not as useless as I thought. I just don't get why he wasn't angry with me as I did kill his tributes. I mean, he even corrected himself from saying the word 'feast,' knowing it's a sore subject for me.
I leave the remains of the target dummies where they are and return the sword to its place on the rack. Some Avox will clean the mess up. I head to the elevator before remembering I haven't had a chance to finish reading the letter from earlier. Pulling it from my pocket, I'm glad to see the ink has not smudged.
Enjoy my little game? I'm sure I had you all riled up, but what fun would it be to give away all these secrets if I didn't make you work for them?
Later tonight you will be offered some options. Although I cannot share all the details, I can tell you one option is to offer your company to Capitol citizens. It will be presented to you in a way that makes it the more desirable option, and I can only hope that you read this letter to fully understand what that option entails.
Providing company to someone in the Capitol is more than merely being there to take them on a date or providing a companion for the night. Instead, you'll be used for sexual gratification. Might not sound so bad, but in reality, you'll have no say over whom you'll be spending your time with.. Young, old, ugly, pretty, female, male. That's right, even if you're not attracted to men, you'll be "sold" to them. You have to understand that the only thing that matters to the Capitol is money. You'll be sold to the highest bidder for the night, week or even month. Your dignity for money.
Everything requested/demanded of you by your purchaser, you'll be required to do, or you risk putting your loved ones in danger. Your purpose will be to entertain and your purchaser may even drug you to perform as he or she wishes.
It is very rare that a desirable Victor is offered options. Be grateful that you have been told this and do not take this matter lightly.
Well, that's pretty messed up. I don't want to be somebody's whore, let alone sleep with some guy. I shudder at the thought. Makes me wonder what the other option is that would make this seem more desirable? And what the fuck? I thought that being a Victor meant I was free but in reality, I'm even more captive now than before. Anger boils in my blood at the injustice of it all.
I can't help but wonder what she means by my loved ones though. I couldn't care less about the Sorensons, even their snotty, little children. So does this mean the Capitol know about my sister Laurel, or is this a general threat made to anyone who would dare defy the Capitol? I know they love to dig into the personal and private lives of tributes in the top six, but even I haven't been able to locate my sister since she was adopted from The Home, and I've spent many years trying to do so. So help me, if they even touch a hair on her head, I'll burn this city down.
I push the looming situation to the back of my mind and try not to think about it. The last thing I need is to mess up my interview which would piss off President Snow. I call the elevator and head up to my room where my stylist team and Kiki freak out on me for being so late. They usher me into the shower quickly, and soon I'm sitting in a chair while the stylists go to work. After they're done, I slip on a nice grey suit with a gold shirt, and red and gold tie.
Entering the common area of the apartment, I can see everyone else is ready to go. We take the elevator down to the same floor where the pregame interviews took place. As I'm standing on the metal lift plate underneath the stage, Brutus comes over, a serious look on his face.
"Cato, no matter what happens out there, be nice even if you might not want to be," he whispers in my ear. "This is serious. You don't want to give President Snow a reason to harm you or anyone you care about. Basically, do not embarrass him."
"Huh?" I reply, questioningly.
"You'll understand shortly," answers Brutus.
Now I'm nervous. Being a target of the president is not good, but I have no more time to dwell on it. I can hear Caesar Flickerman start announcing my team and soon the plate under my feet starts to rise, lifting me up to the stage. I plaster on my winning smile, the one that makes the girls swoon. The crowd is clapping, and many are screaming my name. I wink and blow kisses towards the girls who catch them in their hands as if the kisses were real.
Caesar shakes my hand when I finally make it over to my chair. He still wears the same blue ensemble and blue hair from before the game started. We both sit down, and Caesar tries to quiet down the audience. As clapping stops and the volume of the screamers dies down, some girls yell out that they love me and if I'll marry them. Finally, after a few more requests by Caesar, the audience is quiet.
"First off, I'd like to say congratulations on winning the 74th annual Hunger Games," Caesar says.
"Thank you," I reply, and this causes the audience to scream out a few more "I love you's."
"So tell me, Cato, how do you feel?"
"To be honest, Caesar, I feel great. I'm alive, I'm a Victor and I was able to bring pride to my district."
"Along the way though, there was a fiery girl who kept blocking your path to victory. Katniss Everdeen showed she was some true competition. You fought against her until the very end," Caesar says, a sparkle in his eyes.
I snort when he calls her 'true competition,' but the audience seems to be excited about her. They let out a few hoots and hollers when Caesar stands and walks towards the center of the stage. I'm confused by what he's doing. I've never seen Caesar move from his chair during an interview except for formalities.
"I wonder what she felt during those last moments," Caesar says to the audience. "How about we find out!" he exclaims, and now I'm confused.
What does he mean, find out how she felt? You can't speak to the dead. The audience is going crazy again while Caesar starts to introduce some other people to the stage.
"And now, for the girl you've all been waiting for. You know her as the girl who was on fire, Katniss Everdeen!" he shouts out, and I see her rise up from under the stage and walk forward to greet Caesar. She has a fake smile plastered on her face as she reluctantly waves at the audience.
I stand, but I'm too stunned to move. Why is she alive? How could there be two winners? Just then, she turns towards the seat and her eyes meet mine. She's just as shocked as I was when I first saw her rise up onto the stage. So this is what Brutus meant by being nice no matter what happened? Why the hell couldn't he have told me about this? I'm furious on the inside but manage to force a smile at the girl with a slight nod of my head. Well, things just got more interesting.
Sorry not much to add in AN. Been sick with the flu.
EDIT: Thank you wjjmwmsn5, MadameAnnabeth and MorphlingInTheSoap for helping me edit/Beta this chapter. Also, fixed some errors, such as a few sentences copied twice.
Been juggling Beta readers and so the story takes a bit longer to get out. Really missed having someone to bounce ideas off of, but my very first fanfiction friend and unofficial beta's is back for xmas break so I'm ecstatic. Lova ya, MorphlingInTheSoap. (Look for an Anything But Love update sometime this winter break from her.)
Thank you for your reviews. I really hope to hear from more of you. They push me to write.
itsjillian - I hope this became a lot less complicated.
If anyone has any questions or suggestions, feel free to add. Thank you all for reading. If you read this far, may you win lots of money in the lotto or something.
