It smelled awful, but I knew I wouldn't lose John in the crowd. He was the only one not wearing neon colors from head to toe. Some of the people stopped to say hi to him and ask questions, he even took a selfie with one of them involuntarily; I had to pull him away.
"You look too abnormal, obviously a tribute given the building we just left." I pointed out.
"Are we allowed to just leave like that?" he asked nervously.
"I'll take the blame." I assured, leading him down the road and trying to find any coffee shops. I knew the Capital people drank it like it was liquid gold, so there had to be shops on every corner. I pushed through the crowd, some giving me annoyed looks and some looking like they wanted to give me their number, but I ignored both. John stayed close behind me, taking advantage of the space I provided in the crowd.
"Here we go." I said, looking up at a small shop. We walked in, and indeed it smelled like coffee. Ever since the games I've had a taste for the stuff. It was very energetic, I didn't know why I liked it, but every time I drank a cup my mood improved. A little bell rung on top of the door, but I noticed there was no actual bell, but some type of automatic system. As with all coffee shops, it was set up as more of a home than anything. There were armchairs and fires, people lounging on almost every one of them and sipping their hot beverages.
"Ever had coffee before?" I asked as we joined the back of the line.
"No sir." He said, looking up at the selections. It looked like a blackboard, but sometimes I saw things switched out by themselves, so it must be automated.
"Don't call me sir, it's weird." I decided.
"You're a mentor, it's only polite."
"I'm only two years older than you." I pointed out.
"Still older."
"Why am I even having this conversation." I muttered to myself. The line moved quite fast since everything was basically machines, except for the people behind the register. I ordered a caramel latte for myself, and John just got a vanilla creamer, only warm milk with vanilla. I had tried to get him to order something stronger, but he insisted that he wanted to sleep tonight. That's part of the reason I drank coffee, to help me stay up later to avoid the nightmares. Once we got our drinks we sat at a two seated chair in the window, so we could people watch and so if the rest of the people come looking for us it would be hard to miss. I sipped my drink cautiously but persistently, while John just blew into his drink and stirred it to try to get it cooled down.
"You are such a sissy." I laughed.
"What am I supposed to do?" he defended.
"You're supposed to drink it!" I pointed out, demonstrating with my own cup in case he forgot how to. He rolled his eyes, but sipped the drink.
"It's good, a little sweet though." He decided, looking out the window. I noticed there were lip marks from the lipstick or whatever he had on left on his cup, but I laughed silently to myself and didn't point it out.
"How long do you think we've got before they come looking?" he asked.
"Who knows? Molly will probably notice first, she's one to like everyone's opinions."
"Will they be mad?" he asked.
"I don't see why they should be, we both agreed on the light thing." I pointed out.
"Ya, but wonder if there's another one, or if Irene threatens everyone until they have to give in. I'm not going in that parade with just a loincloth thank you very much." He hissed. I tried to hide my laugher because he looked pretty upset, but I couldn't help it really. I hadn't laughed in a year or so, and here I was cracking up with some guy I met yesterday.
"Well, would you rather here or there?" I asked.
"Here." he muttered guiltily, taking another sip of his drink.
"You've got a mustache." I pointed out. He groaned, wiping his face carelessly with the back of his hand.
"Now don't mess up that makeup." I pointed out. John just glared, but I smiled at him innocently.
"You are a serious jerk." He decided.
"Oh don't take it like that, you're beautiful." I assured. Now even he couldn't hide a smile. The moment was ruined though, by two very angry women banging on the window. I almost jumped out of my chair in fear, but John ran to out the door like a good little tribute. When I got out there, Mrs. Hudson looked like she was going to breathe fire and Molly looked mad. If Molly looks mad, you know you've got a problem. The entire trip back Mrs. Hudson was dragging me painfully by the ear, yelling at me about all sorts of things I didn't care about. It made quite a scene, but I didn't dare fight her since I was scared she'd rip the entire half of my face off. Apparently it was extremely immature to take the tribute away from the stylists, and there were very important decisions to be made, and John's makeup was all messed up, and it was entirely my fault. I tried to defend that I couldn't stand it in the room any more, but apparently the lobby was suitable to escape to. When I was dragged back in, the entire room of mentors went silent, except for uncontrolled laughter by someone I knew was Greg.
"Now you sit and stay here, and if you wander off I'll throw you into a bus!" Mrs. Hudson screamed, shoving me to the floor in a heap. John looked terrified but all the same trying to control his laughter. I got to my feet, brushing off my jacket and ruffling my hair back to its original state.
"Give me that." Mrs. Hudson hissed, taking my coffee and dumped it into the nearest trash can.
"I'm sorry Mrs. Hudson, for sneaking off I mean." John said nervously, as if she would go after him next.
"That's quite alright dear, I know it's not your fault." She assured.
"Well I don't think Sherlock should be getting…" John started.
"He's the mentor; he's completely responsible for everything you do." Mrs. Hudson pointed out. John muttered something I didn't understand.
"Now come on, we'll have to redo your makeup." She said with a hiss to me.
"Did they choose an outfit?" I asked as they were going to walk away.
"Yes, the light ones, although Irene's on a little bit of a laughing gas." Molly said. With that, they walked away, John giving me one last fateful look before allowing himself to be led away. Once again I sat in the lone chair, and as if on cue, Greg bounced right over, as if happy his 'friend' had returned.
"Okay, you totally just got beat up by an old lady."
"Don't call her an old lady or I'll have her beat you up next." I pointed out.
"What happened?" he asked.
"We were in the conference room and the other tribute was going mad, so I sneaked John out and we got coffee, nothing too severe." I resisted the urge to message my ear, which was throbbing painfully, but decided against it.
"That's not very smart." Greg pointed out.
"It's better than being attacked. They put her on laughing gas apparently." I defended.
"What's her name?" he asked.
"Irene Adler, psychopath if you ask me." I sighed, old news, obviously.
"Then you two will get along great then." He laughed.
"I'm a high functioning sociopath, do your research." I snapped. That had become one of my commonly used lines now. No one seemed to know the difference, or that sociopaths even existed.
"I guess you're getting along just fine with John then? You do know no matter how much you two hit it off he's still getting thrown in that arena." Greg pointed out. I took a sharp breath, not looking at him but knowing what he said was true. There was nothing I could do to stop that now.
"I know." I muttered.
"I'm saying don't get attached." He added.
"I'm not attached." I hissed, trying to make that point very clear.
"Hey, I only want to help." Greg defended.
"Well you're doing a very poor job at the moment." I snapped. He was saying what I had been thinking for a while now, don't get attached to John, but I couldn't help it, he was so likable, and he seemed to like me back, that's something you don't ignore. Greg stayed silent for a little bit, as if by some miracle, but went right back to talking.
"My first tribute I had to mentor was a friend, I guess. But then he went in the arena and got ripped apart by some alligator thing. That broke my heart, but I knew then that I couldn't really make friends with the people doomed to die." Greg shrugged.
"Please don't say he's going to die! I think he has a chance of making it out alive, and even if you're not confidence in your tribute that's not my problem!" I yelled, bringing a lot of attention to the scene. The room was quiet once again, but this time it was Greg who was being judged. You're not supposed to doubt your own tribute, that brings down their confidence and sends them spiraling even closer to the pit. Greg smiled guiltily at the room, but eventually they lost interest in the drama over here and turned back to their conversation.
"I think I'm needed, elsewhere." He decided, jumping up from the chair and walking away without a goodbye. I was very thankful about this rare occasion of silence, so I sank back into my thoughts. I wasn't attached, I was simply being a good mentor, you're supposed to act as their friend and give them tips to help them stay alive. I decided to leave that topic, I couldn't think about that now, so the rest of the day I was thinking about how it must be at home. Mycroft was probably eating cake at the moment in front of the TV. He might even see our group coming off the train; I think I saw a news camera on the platform. Mom was probably starting on lunch; Dad was probably reading a book or something. At this time of the day, I would still be in my room, whether or not I had nightmares would depend on if there was light or not.
"Sherlock, we're stopping for some lunch in the dining hall." Molly's voice shook me from my thoughts, and I just groaned.
"Do I have to?" I asked.
"It would be the right thing to do." Molly pointed out.
"That's not an answer."
"I think John might want you to come." She said after a bit of thinking. I groaned, but I couldn't leave John with these idiots, all alone.
"Is Irene still tame?" I asked.
"For now. I think in a half hour she might start throwing things again, so cherish the peace." Molly decided with a laugh. I nodded, not returning the smile but getting to my feet.
"What happened to your friend?" she asked.
"Not my friend." I defended.
"But where'd he go?"
"I may have yelled at him and he left." I said, as if it was just another day.
"Not your friend anymore then." She agreed.
"Never was my friend, shut up." I snapped. She rolled her eyes, but unlike Greg, was able to keep her mouth shut. We were silent all the way to the dining hall, where the small group was sitting at the end of one of the long tables. Irene was smiling, and I knew that never happened, so she must still be on whatever drug they gave her. I had an urge to go find where they kept this drug, if I could be all smiley like her it would be worth getting my hands on. John looked bitter though, slouching at the end of the table and eating fries slowly. I sat across from him while Molly went to sit next to Irene, a bold choice if you ask me.
"They won't let me eat anything that I can't eat in one bite, because of the lip gloss." John grumbled as a greeting.
"I remember that rule. All I ate was blueberries the entire day." I laughed.
"It's not funny." He hissed, folding up a particularly large fry to make it eatable.
"Molly and I had a bet on what flavor the lip gloss is…" I said with a laugh. John just threw a fry at me and scowled, I bet he never expecting to be on the other end of that stupid pick up line.
"Sara's mad at you by the way, for taking me out for coffee." John pointed out.
"I think the only two people not mad at me are you and Irene, but once she gets off those drugs she'll be furious that she wasn't invited." I laughed.
"Then I'm sorry, because you'll have a rough day if she's after you." John decided.
"I felt like it was a good way to bond, so you trust me better to give you tips. And remember that when you're in the games I'll be out here convincing the sponsors to send you parachutes." I remembered.
"I'm not complaining, it's much better than being choked alive with hairspray." John assured. I nodded in agreement.
"Are you going to eat anything?" he asked after a little while.
"Not hungry." I shrugged, which was true. I had breakfast today, and dinner last night, sort of speaking, so I was good for a little while.
"What time is the parade?" he asked.
"Six o'clock tonight." I said, checking the clock above the door, which read one twelve thirty four.
"Plenty of time then." John said with relief, grabbing another French fry.
"You've got a manicure." I observed, which made him throw another fry at me in disgust. I simply caught it and ate it with a sarcastic smile, which made John just roll his eyes.
"Your nails are almost as clean as mine, and you haven't gotten a manicure." He pointed out.
"Is it a crime to be presentable?" I defended, looking at my own nails. Yes, they had no dirt on them and were well rounded, but I did care about my appearance, cameras were everywhere and my mom always frowns when I look bad. Apparently we have an image to keep up. The lunch ended when Irene's smile faded, and then we were politely escorted from the cafeteria as she started using choice words to express her feelings about being drugged.
"She curses more than you do." I muttered.
"I don't curse all the time! Just that one!" he defended.
"Sure you don't." I sighed with a smile.
"In one hour we're supposed to be back here, but for now we can go to the center and relax for a bit." Mrs. Hudson decided, as if that were great news.
"Why just an hour, I thought you said six?" John asked.
"They've got to get you ready." I pointed out.
"Don't I just have to wear the outfit?" he asked, sounding nervous.
"No of course not, if you think this is a lot of makeup just wait until the parade." I said with a laugh.
