Our new home in the Training Center has already captured my attention, and the only thing I've done in it is ride the elevator.
It isn't the first time I've rode in one, District Twelve has one in the Justice Building that I've rode two or three times, but it doesn't compare to the one here in the Capitol. The one back home is old and rickety, but this one glides up to our floor smoothly, and the crystal clear windows give a view of the Capitol streets. The elevator amuses me so much that when we finally reach the twelfth floor, I instantly turn to ask Effie if I can ride it again, even though I know it's childish. But Effie's so pleased with Peeta and I's performance, she allows me a second turn without much hesitation.
She chatters on and on while she and I ride the elevator back up to the twelfth floor. Everyone else got off at the first stop, so I'm forced to listen to her consistent babble about how she's talking us up all day to potential sponsors. "Haymitch hasn't told me of your strategies yet, so I haven't been able to do much," she says with a wave of her hand. "But I've done my best with what I had. At one pint I even said, and this was a very clever thing, I said, 'If you put enough pressure on coals they turn into pearls!'" Effie's grin is so happy and enthusiastic that I can't help but tell her how great her words were, even if they're wrong.
I don't expect her to know it, but coal doesn't turn into pearls. The only thing coal can change into is shellfish. But I don't have the heart to tell her that.
"There were several sponsors just waiting to start, but I can't seal the sponsor deal, only Haymitch can," she says when the elevator stops at our floor for the second time. "But I'll make sure he gets you two those sponsors, even if I have to shove him out there myself."
Although this woman can easily get on my nerves, her determination is something I have to admire.
She bids me goodbye to talk with Haymitch, and I go to my room, which is quite possibly the biggest room I've ever been in, besides the room in the Justice Building where I said my goodbyes. Just like my quarters in the train, this room has so many knobs, switches, and buttons that I know I won't be able to explore in my short time here. Also like the train, the shower in my room has several buttons, but this one has a considerable amount more. But this time, I come out of the shower with only one smell on me, amazingly. Somehow I've figured out only one of the many buttons, and the smell of oranges - my favorite by far - will linger for a while.
When I step on the mat just outside of the shower, heaters come to blow-dry my body until every last drop is gone. There's a box on the counter that sends a current up to my scalp, untangling, drying, and somehow parting my hair the exact way I usually do. When I reach a hand up to my hair, I find it softer than I've ever had it before. It rests in loose waves onto my shoulders and down my back.
The closet has several clothing options, most of which looking so nice that I don't want to wear for fear of ruining them. I pick a random outfit, but make sure it isn't a dress. I'll be handling enough of those while I'm here.
No one has come for me yet, so I sit on the giant plush bed and play around with the different views of the Capitol, spying and exploring the vast streets. There's a menu on my bedside table, and to my delight, hot chocolate can be called for. A steaming cup is delivered to my room less than a minute later. I've just found the plaza where the tributes' standings are displayed when I'm called for dinner.
The first thing I notice when Effie and I make it to the dining room is Haymitch, who's picking at a goose liver and not drinking for once. He's even tidied up and dressed nicely. "You're joining us?" I ask, not in a snide voice, but out of genuine curiosity.
Haymitch glances up briefly and grunts. I suppose it's about as much of an answer as I'll get from him, so I take a seat directly across from him. Peeta, Portia, and Cinna come in from the outside balcony a few minutes later. Peeta takes a seat next to me, giving me a quick smile that I return, albeit smaller. I'm glad to see Portia and Cinna joining us, and I don't appear to be the only one. Their small talk and good nature keeps a conversation going and has a calming effect over us all.
A man dressed in white taps me on the shoulder and offers me some wine. I'm appalled at the thought for a brief moment but then I think of how I'll probably never get to try it if I turn it down, so I accept. It's a bit tart, but not too bad otherwise. Then again, I've never tried wine, so I don't really have anything to compare it to.
I try to pace myself, I don't need to be getting like Haymitch, so I focus more on the food than sipping on the sour liquid. Once again, there's way too many foods for me to eat in a month, so I primarily eat one delectable thing I've discovered; a thin red soup that tastes a bit like strawberries and splattered with mint leaves.
My brain has gone far too foggy for my liking by the end of my glass of wine, so I decline the second glass and switch to water. I can barely handle the feeling, and how Haymitch deals with it will remain a mystery to me.
A boy comes and sets a beautifully decorated cake in the middle of the table. The pale yellow frosting makes the tall dessert seem like it's glowing, almost like a candle. I'm awed. "How does it do that?" I ask when I turn to face the boy. "It's really pre- oh hey! It's you, I know you!"
The boy from the train looks down at me, and through my foggy brain I notice the gleam of fear in his eyes, the swift shake of his head before he scurries away. I'm just beginning to wonder what I said until reality seizes my insides. I may have accidentally put him in danger by acknowledging him.
My suspicions are confirmed when I turn to see four shocked adult faces, each eye trained on me.
"Don't be daft, Luciana," Effie snaps. "The very thought of you knowing an Avox!"
"Avox?" I ask, even though I know all about Avoxes.
"An Avox is a person who committed a crime or became a traitor at some time in their life," Haymitch explains. "Their tongues are cut out so they can't speak. It's very unlikely that you know him." His words are dismissive, but there's a warning gleam in his eyes. He's telling me to cover my mistake.
"Exactly," Effie continues, "and you're not to speak to one unless you're giving them an order. The odds of you knowing that boy are small."
I'm floundering for an excuse, but Peeta snaps his fingers and saves me from the four pairs of prying eyes. "Coven Newsond." he says, and the tension already eases a bit. "She's not the only one recognizing people. I kept thinking he looked familiar but then I realized that he looks exactly like Coven."
Peeta's not too far off, in a way. Both our server and Coven are from the Seam, so they share the dark hair and grey eyes, but that's it in similarities. Coven just may be the biggest troublemaker we have in Twelve - he was always getting into trouble at school and one day it got so bad that the town finally decided just to send him to work in the mines, a full seven months earlier than they're supposed to. Coven hasn't been heard from much since, but I could always spot him walking home late at night after his shift was over. "That's what I must've been thinking of," I say, sending a smile of gratitude to Peeta. "He does resemble Coven, now that I think about it."
The tension dissipates entirely. "Oh, well alright then," Cinna says. "And the cake is a part of a new trick here in the Capitol. I ordered it after your debut."
The cake is as delectable as it looks.
We move into a room with a giant screen to watch the recaps of the parade. I notice a few other tributes that looked relatively nice, but after I flip the switch to our costumes, there's no room to compare. I'm further convinced at the squeals of delight as our costumes fully power. "Oh, Lucy," says Cinna, "I knew you'd pick the right time."
"Who's idea was the hand holding?" asks Haymitch.
"I was going to tell them to, but the chariot pulled out before I could," says Cinna. "I'm just glad they did it on their own."
"Perfect," say Haymitch. "A little rebellion, excellent." He turns to Peeta and I. "Your training sessions begin tomorrow. Go get some sleep and meet me in the morning. I'll tell you how to play it then."
The walk to our quarters is silent until we reach my room. Peeta leans against my door right as we arrive, efficiently cutting my path off. "Fancy seeing Coven here, eh?"
Peeta's wanting answers, and I owe him some. This is the second time I've acknowledged the servant around him, and Peeta helped save both him and me this time around, so I'm in his debt now. However, if I tell him the truth behind this boy and I, I could get into so much trouble with the Capitol.
Then again, I'm probably going to die within the next few days, so what can it hurt? If he repeats the story, I'll probably meet the same fate. If the Gamemakers decide to make my death horrible, it won't be as bad as living with the guilt as a Victor.
I hesitate. The wine has a lingering effect, making my brain foggy still, but I eventually say, "Not here."
Peeta picks up the meaning. "Come on, have you seen the roof yet?" I shake my head and Peeta grabs my hand. The small shock that runs up it almost has me yanking it back but for some odd reason, I don't. Maybe it's the wine, but I find myself actually relaxing at his touch. "The view is amazing, Cinna showed me earlier. The wind's a bit loud, but that's it."
I catch his hidden meaning, but I can't help to ask, "Are we allowed to?"
Peeta smiles. "Sure, let's go." And after a tug on my hand from him, I'm stumbling along with him to the flight of stairs leading to the roof. To takes a while, but the combination of the fantastic view and cool wind blowing up to us is worth it. Lights shine from the Capitol buildings for miles, and it's so oddly beautiful that I just want to stand and stare, but Peeta has other ideas. He leads me along the railway and we look down onto the Capitol streets.
"You'd think that there'd be more caution around such a dangerous opportunity to become free of the Games," Peeta says. "I asked Cinna earlier if anyone had ever jumped over the side, but no one has been able to."
"Why not?" I ask.
"You can't," he says, and further explains by shoving his hand over the rail. There's a sharp zap and he jerks it back. "They put up a force field that throws you back onto the roof."
"Clever," I say, but I know it's only to protect their entertainment. Wouldn't want one of the tributes dying mere days before the Games even started.
"Come on," Peeta repeats. "Let's go to the garden."
The garden itself is almost as beautiful as the view. The various plants and flowerbeds create such a wonderland that it's simultaneously easy to get lost in and hard to imagine something so beautifully created rests on the roof of the buildings where tributes wait to be slaughtered. The wind brushes against hundreds of chimes to bring a flurry of tinkling. The sound in itself is enough to drown out any conversation, so I know we'll be safe as long as we're quiet. Peeta and I sit by a bed of lilies, and he looks at me expectantly.
Though I feel cruel to do so, I pluck a lily from its roots and twirl it between my fingers. "It had been around half a year since my father died," I began. "And my mother was sick. Bad, sick. My brother and I were very dependent on her at the time, and we needed her with us. We'd tried everything, but nothing was working."
Even now, five years later, I still remember how she looked those days. Matted hair, dark and sullen eyes, pale, sweaty skin. She was always coughing, emptied her stomach often. I had to keep Nate away for fear of him developing what she had, as well as both she nor I wanted him to see her so weak.
"I waited as long as I could," I continue to Peeta. "But time was running out. She gradually got worse, and needed medicine soon. So, I had to get some for her somehow." I pause at Peeta's widened eyes. "No, I didn't take it from Katniss' family, Peeta," I say with a sad smile. He relaxes some, but is still slightly tense. "I may have not known her at the time, but both her father and mine were killed in the same accident. Her family was in as much trouble as mine was, I couldn't take that away from them. Plus, my mother needed stronger medicine. I went to the only place I knew that could potentially have what she needed. The mines."
I pause for the briefest of moments, remembering how uncomfortable I was as I drew nearer to my father's death site. The mines were dark, standing solitary across a quickly gathering night sky, and I was almost tempted to turn right on the spot. But the thought of my mother, possibly lying on her deathbed, had me taking the first tentative steps in the entrance's direction.
"He snuck up on me," I continue. "I had just gotten to where the medicine was stored, when he snuck up behind me. You can imagine the kind of shock he put me through, I nearly dropped three vials when made himself noticed."
"The Avox?" Peeta asks. I nod.
I can't give Peeta the entire story, just in case people truly are listening. "He had followed me into the mines, but he didn't turn me in. He helped me that day. From then on, I knew that I could trust him."
A far detail resurfaces, the memory of his amused smirk. He'd worn it often; he wasn't much of a smiler. He loved to tease, thus adapting his signature smirk.
Peeta's still watching me carefully, so I continue. "It didn't help. My mother grew worse and worse until finally, her last breath was taken." There's a pregnant pause as I try to hold back tears. "He was there with me when she died. He'd quickly become my best friend, despite being three years older than I was."
"Two years passed. I was just about to turn fourteen, and he had just passed seventeen. It was dark, and I had just got back from the woods, from looking for berries and herbs," I say. "I should have known something was off the second I stepped into the Hob. It was eerily quiet, even after I left my last stop in the trading business. That's when he came."
"Who?" Peeta asks.
"A Peacekeeper," I whisper. "I didn't recognize him, nor did he recognize me. He reeked of alcohol, was absolutely gone. The next thing I knew this mysterious Peacekeeper had shoved me into an alleyway. He was frustrated."
"He didn't," Peeta whispers back, a horrified expression etched into his features.
"No," I say, and I curse the fact that my voice sounds choked, tear-embedded. I force the feeling down, at least until I finish the story. "No, Caspar prevented that."
"Caspar?" asks Peeta.
"That's his name, the Avox," I tell him. "I didn't know he was there, just like at the mines. One minute I have a near forty-year-old man pressed against me, the next he's not. Caspar took care of that."
"He beat a Peacekeeper?" Peeta whispers quite loudly, then covers his mouth. Once he's deemed the area clear, he continues, "But that means-"
I nod. "He was arrested - that's where the scar on his face came from, the Peacekeeper's knife cut him - sent to the Capitol, and now he's our servant. I never even got to say goodbye."
I look away then, away from Peeta's intense stare, out to the bright lights of the Capitol. For a while they seem to dance, each light twinkling in their own time to create a rhythmic sequence that provides me the distraction I need to be able to retreat, to pull back the tears threatening to fall.
The feeling of fabric sliding over my shoulders tears me from my reverie. Peeta's slung his jacket around me, and only gives an, "You're shivering," as I try to decline. He secures a button at my neck and I look down to my feet, suddenly bashful. I shouldn't be though, after all, he's only doing it because he's somewhat my friend, right?
"Sometimes I'd wonder if he'd try to leave and come back home," I say. It sounds so small and childlike when it leaves my mouth. "Just like how I wonder if the tributes ever try to."
"I'd leave, if I could," Peeta blurts, and both of us look around nervously. If anyone had heard it, Peeta could get into serious trouble. "I mean, I'd go home if I could. But then again, the view is so fantastic and everything looks great here."
We both relax. He's managed to make it sound as if he were only scared, just by using a few choice words in the right way.
"Come on, we'd better get in, it's getting cooler," Peeta says. This time, however, he doesn't take my hand, and I'm shocked when I discover that I feel slightly disappointed. I can't be feeling like this, not days away from going into the Games.
The dome brings an air of warmth when we enter. Peeta strikes up a conversation as we're almost to my room. "So, Caspar, is he related to you? You kind of favor each other."
I laugh, though it comes out slightly raspy. "No, not that I know of, but we did hear that a lot."
Peeta smiles, and then we're at my door. He looks as if he wants to say something, but at the last second, he switches to a soft, "Goodnight." Then he's gone.
Caspar's there, plucking my miner's getup from my bed when I enter. There are so many things I want to say to him, I'm absolutely itching to do so, but I know that I can't get him into further trouble. I still don't know whether he's in the clear from my episode earlier.
"Sorry, can you take those to Cinna? I seem to have forgotten, sorry. Thank you," I say.
He simply stares at me for a moment, and I swear that a tiny, sad smile flickers on his features before he averts his gaze, gives a nod, and heads out.
It's as I'm crawling under my sheets that I realize Peeta's jacket is still resting over my body. There's an urge for me to take it off, but then I think that there's no harm in me wearing it for the night, so it stays on.
And as I start to drift into an endless world of black, I wonder for the first time in years if Caspar hadn't been there that night.
...
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-minor updates 05/30/18