So, longer chapter then usually. But I crammed the last training session, the gamemakers session, the pre-interveiw thing and the interview into one chapter so we would be in the games by the next one. I am really looking forward to the next chapter! Enjoy!
Chapter 7- Last Night
Today's training is pretty much the same as yesterday. I listen to Elden as he rambles on about how to conquer the Games. At lunch I observe the other tributes before I swiftly return to Elden's station to talk more.
After he explains to me how to spot a Gamemaker trap he moves onto talking about my Private Gamemaker session where I will be judged on my skills to survive. "I am sure your Mentor will give you some sort of angle to play but-" Elden begins.
My shaking head cuts him off, "Rella isn't very interested in helping me."
"Why ever not?" he says perplexed.
"She was enthusiastic at the start- more than willing to help, but then I guess she saw what a snivelling mess I was, then she gave up."
"Ah, I see," He says, "Understandable I guess, most Mentors aren't really as mentally stable as they used to be. . ."
"Mmm," I reply; not really knowing an appropriate way to respond.
"Maybe you should go and learn some knots or traps? They could really hel-"
"No," I cut him off, "I am not leaving this station."
"I see," Elden says with a bit of disappoint creeping into his voice. I guess he wants me to get some practical help. . . "I guess it doesn't really matter what you do in your session anyway. You are lying low and staying unnoticed. That can be your angle in the Interviews. You are going to be shy and quiet, understand?"
"That wont be too hard," I say with a giggle.
"As for the privates sessions. . ." he stops to think for a minute. "Well, I won't be here as a Trainer because you can't show any physical talents at this station that require a Trainers assistance. . . But I guess if you really don't want to show the Gamemakers anything I can leave my notepad here and you can come a read through it. It has some more strategy techniques in it and you can revise and remember."
"Oh, yes!" I say, nearly bouncing.
"That's settled then. Now, let's get started."
And so we do. I spend the next few hours having strategic plans being drilled into me. It's tiring to wrap my head around but Elden keeps find new and different ways to explain them so I understand. After a while he begins to quiz me; he gives me different scenarios and I have to weave my way out of the problem. It takes a while before I get the hang of it. Elden keeps on insisting I thing outside the box and make things more intricate and complicated. He reminds me to destroy in numbers and go against the obvious answer. Eventually, after answering ten questions in a row to his standards he leans back in his chair and smiles.
"I think you have the hang of it, young lady," he says.
I can't stop the grin blooming onto my face. The smile warms up my whole body and something inside me rises up. At first I'm confused but then I realise that it's hope. Finally I have done something that gives me a chance in these games.
"Now run along. Time to go back to your floor. I'll see you at training tomorrow. Remember, the Gamemakers may throw a very nasty things in your direction when you come in because you wont be the most entertaining, but just live through it. I'll leave my notepad on this chair, just flick through it and trying to cram in as much as you can."
I nod my head once before a bell rings off and the Tributes begin to be herded back to their floors.
"Good-bye Elden," I say with a smile.
"Good-bye Paisley," he replies with a smile back.
I turn to leave before I quickly remember something. I turn on my heel and go swiftly back to Elden where I give him a brief hug. "Thank-you," I say, "For everything."
"That's okay, young one," he says with a pat on my shoulder, "Now run along."
Dia is there to greet me when the elevator door opens and I step off. She immediately takes me down to the dining room insisting that there is important things that need to be attended to. I turn into the room to see Titch already sitting there and Rella sitting at the far end of the table looking less than impressed.
"Now," Dia says, signalling I take a seat. "We have some important things to discuss. Tomorrow you have your private Gamemaker session and it is the time to really show all you've got. Rella, what are your plans?"
Rella raises her eyebrow at Dia and laughs a little. "I thought I made it perfectly clear that I am not interested in helping these two living corpses," she says so harshly that I flinch.
"Now, now, Rella, it's you job to-"
"No, it's not," Rella interrupts, "I was promised a life of safety and ease after I won my Games. No one said anything about having to babysit. And I am sick of it, Dia, I am sick of having kids shipped to me every year where I put all my time and effort into helping them to just have it thrown away. I don't want that any more, Dia. I am through with this. These two kids are dead and they know it! You heard Paisley on the train - "You can't help me survive, no one can." ' she mimics me, "And Titch, hah! Don't even get me started on him! There is nothing I can do to help them so there isn't any point trying. I'm done." She slams her knife and fork on the table and walks briskly from the room.
It's deathly silent for a few seconds before Dia sighs and turns to Titch and I. "I'm sorry about her, Dearies. You have to understand that she has been through a lot over the years and it's taken it's toll."
"Why doesn't one of the other Eight victors come instead?" Titch asks, "If she cant handle it why doesn't she stay in Eight?"
"She doesn't have a choice. . ." Dia says sadly, "Besides, your other three Victors have already spent their time in the Capitol. It's Rella's turn to mentor."
"But wouldn't it be better to share the burden?" Titch says, "To have all the Victors go and mentor together?"
"Maybe, but the Eight Victors have decided amongst themselves that there would only be one mentor at a time so they didn't have to all be in the Capitol. They prefer being in Eight, this place reminds them to much of what happened to them."
I personally think it's stupid. Why wouldn't they leave dull old Eight for this colourful palace? If I had the choice I would live in the Capitol forever.
"Well, seeing as Rella doesn't want to help I will have to plan out your Training strategy. Paisley, you first?" Dia says searching for a change of subject.
I shake my head, "No thanks, Dia. Me and Elden have planned out my Training."
"Oh," Dia says with a tinge of insult appearing in her speech but she wipes it away quickly. "Well, that's a good thing I guess. You can run off to bed then and I'll be getting you up early tomorrow. Get some good rest." She swoops down on me and gives a light kiss. The jewels on her lips tickle my cheek. "Run along!"
I am woken up at 8am to Dia's tinkling voice and blue hair standing over me. I laugh to myself at the thought of 8am being 'early'. Back in Eight I was awake at 5am at the least. That's what time the workers came into the factory to turn on the machines and the clinking and buzzing always roused me.
Breakfast is quick and uneventful. The food is as good as always and I cant help but think that the dishes are getting more and more colourful as the hours pass. . . I have a strange feeling Dia is requesting the brightest and prettiest of foods on my behalf.
We are stepped off the elevator and a Capitol attendant ushers through the dining room and into an adjoining room where we are to wait for our names to be called. Then we will spend 15 minutes showing the Gamemakers how we will win the Games; or in my case how I will lose.
Titch takes a seat next to me in the waiting room. I go to shuffle away from him but that would mean getting closer to the One, Two and four Tributes who are still going out of their way to shoot some nasty comment in my direction. I find it a relief when they are the first few to be called out I am in a room with tributes who are in the same position as me.
"So, what are you doing for your session, Paisley?" Titch asks me, trying to spark up a conversation but I just brush it off and ignore him.
Instead I do something Elden taught me. I watch the bonds in the group. . . The Ten girl and the Seven and Three boy are still sticking quite close to each other. I now notice that the Ten girl's sleek black hair, ruby red lips and bulging chest may have something to do with it. She is quite the looker and Seven and Three boy seem to agree.
Before I have time to notice, half the room of Tributes is gone and I hear my name being called. Titch wishes me a good luck as I get up but I ignore him and tip toe into the Training Centre.
It's weird, but with no other tribute in here the place seems so big. All the weapons are sitting comfortably on their shelves and there are no brutish tributes lurking around them. I feel so at peace without them in here and I cant help that think that maybe if we got to train privately I would have actually given the weapons a go. Shame it's too late now.
I cross the centre and feel the Gamemakers eyes following me as I do.
Elden's notepad sits on his chair at the strategy station just waiting for me. I smile when I see its slightly creased and tattered edges. I scoop it up and take a seat on the floor. A quick glace up at the Gamemakers shows that they are not impressed. Some are giving me unhappy looks and others have already moved onto their wine and roast knowing I am going to give a boring show.
I nod to myself then open the first page and read through Elden's notes and tactics. Some words are big and some sentences are smudged or blurry making them hard to read. On some pages there are diagrams so complex and tricky I just skip over them.
A timer goes off after ten minutes and a Gamemaker yells out at me telling me to do something interesting, but I try to block them out as I turn the page.
Soon I am turning to the last page of the notepad to see a fresh bit of paper, free of fingerprints and smudges. Words sparkle brightly at the bottom of the page that have been newly writ-
Even though you don't think you can; I know you can do this. Just remember everything I taught you and try your best. Thank-you for giving your time to learn from me. I believe in you, Paisley.
I cant help but grin at Elden's cursive signature at the bottom of his note. Just the fact he took the time to write me a parting message warms my insides. Even though I don't believe him, I am overjoyed he thinks I can win.
A buzzer goes off and the Gamemakers send me out of the room. There is a spring in my step as I walk over to the elevator.
Dia's questions engulf me the second the doors open as she asks me how I went. She doesn't seem annoyed at my approach and just waves it off before she ushers me down the hall for lunch. Rella is no where in sight. Dia says that she hasn't seen her since her little tiff last night.
Titch soon joins us and tells Dia and I that he did some sword training. He managed to chop up a few dummies decently but gave himself a pretty good slice on his thigh when he lost control after a particularly ferocious swing. Apparently the Gamemakers thought it was hilarious but Dia isn't impressed. She soon has Titch being whisked down to the Medical Centre on the bottom floor for treatment.
I finish up my dinner alone then go off to bed. Just as I pull myself into the sheets I am roused by the young dark haired Avox boy that brings the biscuits. I sit up in my bed and look to see if he is holding the biscuit tray but it's no where in sight.
He holds me out a note that I recognise as Dia's and I flip it open and read it.
Come to the TV room. It says simply.
I get myself up and make my way down the hall and into the TV room where Titch and Dia are waiting. I glance down at Titch's thigh that is wrapped up in white bandages.
"They wouldn't fix his leg properly," Dia says in a frustrated tone, "The Head Gamemaker wouldn't let him."
"Why did you want me?" I ask.
"Oh, we have to watch the scores. I would have come down to get me myself but I was helping Titch. Sorry."
I shrug it off then take a seat on the couch next to Dia. She tells us that Rella will still not be joining us. Then the show begins.
District One comes first. The girl- Charm- gets a nine whilst the boy- Cobalt- gets a ten. Dia tells me the Careers always get high scores ranging from about eight to ten. I cringe when Eris face appears on the screen, her rat-like face set in a smirk. She gets an eleven which- according to Dia- is a very rare occurrence. My heart sinks, she is more scary and powerful then I thought.
Apart from the District Two boy- Landus, and the two tributes from Four- Chelsea and Tyna, the rest of the tributes get pretty low scores. Titch gets a five which is low, but not unexpected.
Soon my name and picture is on the screen. My details are read out by the host including my age, weight and muscle ratio which is used for betting odds. Then my score appears; a one.
One. Apparently it's one of the lowest scores Panem has ever seen. According to the commentator even the most weak and emotional tributes are able to scrape a three at least. Ones are unheard of and no one has got one for about twenty years.
I knew I was going to do bad. . . but this, well, this is just sad.
Titch gives me a reassuring smile and says, "At least it wasn't a zero!"
Dia pats me on the back and says, "You tried your best, Dear."
I shrug it off then excuse myself to go back to my room where I dive onto my bed and begin to sob. I knew this was going to happen of course, but it still upsets me. Yesterday I had confidence and pride, but now- seeing my ability to win these games summed up in one number- I cant help but feel upset.
Dia comes in and hugs me like she did the other night when I was crying. I think she is getting a bit fed up over my tears although she doesn't show it. After a while I drift off to sleep . . .
When I wake up the next morning it's late. By the amount of sun streaming in the window it must be nearly lunchtime . . . I wonder why Dia let me sleep so late. I tumble out of bed and make my way down the hall where I bump into my colourful stylist who is drinking from a mug, her ever-changing hair turning into a twinkling sky blue.
"'Morning sleeping head!" Dia says brightly, "Sleep well?"
I nod in reply.
"Tonight's your interview," she says, "You are supposed to spend half the day with me and the other half with Rella preparing for it, but seeing as Rella is being less the cooperative we are skipping her session. I spent the morning with Titch so now it's your turn with me. Trust me, you are going to have a ball of fun!"
So we spend the next four hours having the most fun I think I ever had. Dia gets her hands on a box of goodies and we paint, draw, build and laugh our day away. I play tag with her, and hide and seek and we tell jokes and even sing and dance.
When it starts to get late Dia has to stop being my friend and take the role of Escort again. She takes me to the Remake room and tells me I am about to be prepared for my interviews. I immediately get scared but Dia calms me down and tells me there is nothing to worry about. She says that all of Panem will watch, but I just need to be myself. It doesn't matter if I freak out and freeze up because the audience just will think it's an angle.
The prep team all get straight to work when I come in. Washing me down, brushing my hair and painting my nails. Covering me in powders and dyes and patterns.
Xayla, Lilliarnia and Ariel all talk in lightning speed as they stencil swirling patterns down my arms and cover them in glitter. Xayla is still quite hostile towards me. Lilliarnia is very official and serious, bent on doing her job right. But Ariel is sweet. She asks me questions and generally takes an interest in me. She doesn't really concentrate on the shading she is supposed to be doing on my hands which makes Lilliarnia cluck at her and she has to eventually takes over.
A few hours later they lead me to the mirror where I see myself. My body is even more stunning then it was a few days ago on the chariot. My skin is dyed all different colours that create swirls going up and down my arms and legs then entwine into my fingers.
"Pike wants to keep up the paisley pattern theme," Lilliarnia says, "To go with your name again."
I take a closer look at the patterns to see that she is right. They are all water-droplet shapes, curling into each other- a paisley pattern.
They spend a few more ours patterning my eyelid with paisley swirls and sketching teeny swirls onto my lips. My hair is curled and covered in glitter and then a black bag is brought in that hold my dress. My prep team fight over taking it out of the bag but soon Lilliarnia is taking charge and unzipping the bag. I don't even get a glance at it before the dress is blocked by Xayla's dark skin and bright green feathery dress.
Soon the dress is being slipped over my head and I am being zipped up. A few adjustments here and there are done. Fix up a loose thread. Straighten up the hem. Replace a frill. Then the team step apart and I see myself in the mirror.
The dress is short, that's for sure. But I don't look skimpy, it ruffles out sort of like a tutu, layers upon layers of material all bunched together. The pattern matches my skin and eyes and lips- Paisley, all the colours of the rainbow. The top of it is simple; two thin straps hole it up and it hugs tightly to my chest.
"Pike changed your style angle," Lilliarnia says when she sees my expression. "He realised you were too little to pull off sexy or provocative. So he altered the dress a bit so now you look cute and innocent. Dia had a word in it of course. Pike couldn't help showing some skin though, it's his signature."
At that moment a booming male voice cuts through the air, "I'm here! I'm here!"
Then the scary dragon man that is my stylist comes in. His green skin looking as sick and scaly as ever. His eyes still an evil red and his nostrils still flaring with grey misty smoke coming out of them as he exhales.
He circles me, taking in every bit of my outfit. His taloned claws prod me every now and then as he adjusts the straps or fixes a ruffle. "That'll have to do," He says, "Not my usual style, but it will work."
He starts poking he out the door and down the hall into the dining room. Dia is waiting there in a jewelled diamond dress and giant glittering heels. She compliments me non stop when I come in, saying how beautiful I look. Then she looks down at her crystal watch and sees that we are running late. We pick up Titch on our way back down the hall then we are taken downstairs- put into a car and driven a few minutes down the road before we are shoved out and pushed into another building, down some halls, through some doors and into a room where all the other tributes are waiting.
Everyone looks gorgeous. The beauty from District One- Charm looks breathtaking in a sequinned dress. The boy, Cobalt is handsomely confident in his white shining suit. All the make-up in the world couldn't hide the rat-faced scowl of Eris who snarls when I walk in. The pretty girl from Ten is having all her good features shown off with her dress that hugs tight to her skin and sits high on her thighs.
I slink into the shadows when eyes turn to see the new arriving tributes. Dia comes along and pushes me into place along the line of tributes in order we are to enter the stage. She says I have three minutes with Caesar where he will ask me questions about myself. She tells me to answer honestly and I'll be fine. A kiss on the forehead then she is gone.
It's not long before Capitol people dressed in black are entering the room with little black microphones hovering above their lips and clipboards in their hands. They straighten the line of Tributes then lead us all up some stairs and into yet another room. A big TV is in front of it- on the screen stands a man in a midnight blue suit that twinkles. He introduces himself to the audience as Caesar Flickermen at is replied with a roar of cheers. The clipboard people appear again and lead Charm away and up some stairs where she is met with thunderous applause.
She then appears on the screen we watch. Her sequins shimmer in the stage lighting and Caesar begins to drill her with questions. About her family, her District, her special talents. Personally I think she is a bit of a ditz. The way she stupidly giggles and flicks her hair makes her seem so fake.
It goes on like this. Three minutes for every person where they have to make the audience love them. Everyone takes and angle- Mean, confident, smart, innocent. Caesar is a real help. He keeps a conversation going, steers them in a direction that casts each tribute in a positive light. If it wasn't for his pale face and his grey eyes, hair and lips I think I may had even liked him.
Soon- before I have time to prepare for it- my name is being called.
One of the clipboard people lightly push me out the door where I stumble onto the stage floor. The lights are blinding and I have to blink a few times to fix my vision. Caesar comes towards me, takes my hand and leads me to a chair.
"Welcome Paisley, welcome," he says, indicating I take a seat. "Now I must say, you look positively adorable in your dress."
He stops talking and looks at me expectantly. It takes me a moment to realise he is waiting for a response. "Oh. Um. Y-yes. It's p-pr-pretty." I say very quietly unable to control the tremble in my lips.
"No need to be nervous," Caesar says, noticing my state. "We are all very friendly here in the Capitol."
I nod, but say no more. My mind races as I try to comprehend what is happening. . . all this emotion is welling up inside of me that I just want to collapse onto the ground and cry. Caesar's pearly smile glows at me reassuringly, surely he realises how terrified I am.
"Well, tell us a bit about yourself; your home, what's it like back in Eight?" he asks.
"Dull," I whisper.
"It sounds much different to here then. Do you find the Capitol dull?"
I shake my head. "N-no," I stammer.
"Do you like dull things?"
I shake my head again.
"Oh, well then, I take it you aren't too keen on this years Games colours," He says indicating to his grey hair and lips, "I do admit I did prefer the violent purple I had last year. This grey makes me look like a grampa!"
There are a few laughs from the audience. But nothing compared to the cackles the boy from three was getting as he told jokes and danced around. A quick glance out to the audience shows that people are slowly beginning to lose interest. Subtle movements like a sigh or leaning back in their seats shows me they are already forgetting me. I know that I need to start talking, start making an impact and get noticed, but I don't know how. Staying in the shadows is all I know.
"And what do you have waiting for you back at home? Anything you miss?"
I half nod, half shake my head. I much prefer the colour and life that is here in the Capitol. But District Eight is my home, no matter how dull and cruel it is; it's where I belong. I try to think about what is waiting for under the floorboard in the factory. No family or friends. No belongings. The only thing I ever owned was my yellow blanket- but that was taken away from me when I was reaped.
"Nothing is waiting for me," I say quietly, looking down into my lap.
And it goes on like this for another 2 minutes. Caesar asks me a question and I either shake or nod my head and occasionally pop a word or two in. Caesar struggles to keep the interview going. He tries to get me talking about my hobbies, interests, talents but I am no help. He has nothing to work with. He's sweet and patient with me, but that's now enough. I swear I hear him sigh in relief when the buzzer sounds.
Dia is already waiting for me when I get off the stage. I tell her I want to leave and go back to my room straight away but she says we have to stay until the interviews are finished. I can't say I'm not surprised.
Titch is up next and he is being his optimistic, joyful self. Caesar and him have a hell of a time, joking and laughing and letting the audience join in. Despite his low score and dodgy district, I'm sure he will have at least one sponsor. Me on the other hand. . .
After about an hour Caesar is saying goodbye to the boy from District Twelve who is trying to act arrogant under his skinny stature. All the Tributes parade across the stage once more before we are dismissed to go back to our quarters.
I go to bed the second I reach Level 8. I don't bother watching the Interview recaps having already had to tolerate them once.
When I plonk myself on the bed I try to shut out everything. I ignore my thoughts about tomorrow because I know they will just haunt me in the dark. Don't think about tomorrow. Don't think about Eris, or Charm, Or Cobalt. Don't think about blood. Don't think about darkness. Don't think about tomorrow. Don't think about dying. Don't think about the Hunger Games.
Somehow I drift off to sleep. Knowing in the back on my mind that this is my last night alive. . .
Thank-you to all my subscribers and reviews! I really apprciate ever single email I get telling me someone has reviewed or favourited. So, review, subscirbe & favourite! And get excited for the next chapter
