"In two weeks, 23 of you will be dead. One of you will be alive. Who that is depends on how well you pay attention over the next four days, particularly to what I am about to say. First, no fighting with the other tributes. You'll have plenty of time for that in the arena. There are four compulsory exercises, the rest will be individual training. My advice is don't ignore the survival skills. Most of you will die from natural causes. 10% from infection, 20% from dehydration. Exposure can kill as easily as a knife."
-Atala, The Hunger Games
The Penthouse was the 12th and final floor of the skyscraper attached to the Training Center. It was an echoey, dark apartment that had an unfriendly chill to it. Avoxes stood silently on either side of the entrance, their heads bowed low. Copper wondered what they had done that caused the Capitol to enslave them.
Dinner was an awkward affair. Cerritulus, Livia, Cornelia (Lavender's stylist), Copper, and Lavender sat around a circular table in the center of the dining room. An Avox delivered several trays of food, the main course being a roasted pig.
"Ah, yes, thank you, thank you," Cerritulus chirped happily, immediately beginning to hack away at the meat. The Avox nodded in response before exiting the room. Copper followed her outline as she disappeared.
"Why can't they talk?" he asked. "Are they forbidden to?"
Cerritulus looked up from his plate of food. Lavender's eyes flickered in the man's direction, clearly awaiting a response.
"Well, you see…" Cerritulus began. "Avoxes are...criminals. Rebels, if you want to call them that. Typically they would have committed some kind of treason against the Capitol. As punishment, they become servants to tributes and citizens here. It is quite generous of the Capitol, if you ask me. Traitors are often killed."
Lavender stopped chewing. "So they're slaves, I get it," she said, pushing the plate away from her. "You know what? I'm not hungry. I'm going to bed."
The girl rolled her eyes and huffed dramatically when she saw the shocked looks upon everyone else's faces. "What?" she said disgustedly. "I wouldn't expect a bunch of Capitolites to understand."
Copper watched her strut away. Lavender had a point. How could Cerritulus be so casual about slavery? Even Livia didn't seem too concerned with the Avox's presence.
Then again, Copper thought, Even Livia is a mindless "Capitolite". She probably doesn't even know what District 12 looks like. Actually, she probably doesn't even know what coal looks like.
Coal.
His district token! Copper's heart began to beat wildly in his chest. "Cerritulus! Do you have my clothes?! The ones I wore on the train?!"
Cerritulus blinked. "Unfortunately, no, I do not. But I saved that lumpy piece of coal that was in the pocket of your shorts when I, um, burned them. The Capitol asks that we dispose of the clothes tributes arrive on the train in. I left the coal on the nightstand in your room."
Copper breathed a sigh of relief. "Thanks for saving it. I was really worried for a second."
Cerritulus shrugged. "Yes, yes, you're welcome. It is my job to take care of you."
His bedroom was nice, but not exactly very welcoming. The floor was made of a cold, purplish marble that sent shivers down Copper's spine. A window overlooked the dazzling city behind the Training Center, its lights flickering in front of the snow-capped mountains behind it.
The hologrammed television on the wall glowed artificially. It cast a pale blue light upon the room. Except for a large bed that sat in the center of the room and a small nightstand, that was everything in the room.
The television was on. But what was being shown?
Copper stood before it, the scenes upon it reflecting in his startled eyes.
It was that program. He had seen it before, for it was one of the few channels (actually, one of three) that District 12 broadcasted (controlled by the Capitol, of course).
Greatest Moments in Hunger Games History.
A girl with serious burns was shown backing away from three armed tributes, clearly the remaining Careers. Losing her footing on the craggy ledge, she slipped. The camera followed her as she plunged through the air only to land in molten lava.
The volcano arena.
The girl let out a strangled cry. Her body immediately caught fire as she was consumed, the skin on her face dissolving, her body melting away from the bone…
Copper backed away from the screen, overcome with intense vertigo.
He barely made it to the bathroom before vomiting messily into the toilet.
I'm going to die, and there's nothing I can do to stop it.
After emptying his stomach, Copper returned to the bedroom. Turning off the television without looking at it, he curled up on the plush bed.
Maybe dying won't be so bad after all, he thought.
Lavender's words echoed faintly in the back of his mind. "Death happens every day. We all die in the end. It's just that sometimes, some of us die too young."
The Capitol took him away from his family to show District 12 that they were inferior. The deaths of the tributes were nothing more than entertainment to them.
But what if I gave my death some kind of meaning? What if I didn't die fighting? What if I chose not to become one of those desperate, insane kids I see on the screens every year?
Copper wasn't a hero. He knew that. He would die just like the others. Like Asher.
If I know going to die, he pondered, then what will I do in the arena? What will keep me going until my time is up?
He wasn't sure why, but Lavender's face appeared in his mind. She was no ordinary District 12 tribute. The way she didn't take any sort of nonsense from anybody proved that.
She might stand a chance at seeing their home again, even if Copper didn't. She was there for Copper these past few days when no one else was.
I can't live for myself. But I can live for Lavender. I'll do my best to protect her, to make sure she survives even if I die.
Cerritulus looked up from the slip of paper, gazing out at the crowd, enthusiasm dancing in his cold eyes.
"Copper Hurst!"
No one would even remember his name.
