Disclaimer: Disclaimer: I do not own the hunger games series, nor characters portrayed in it, all credit goes to Suzanne Collins.
Chapter 9: The Scores
(Finnick P.O.V.)
Mags smiles at me kindly. I'm still attempting to figure out her personality. One day she tells me I'm lucky my good looks make up for my lack of brains, the other she's smiling like a kind old lady. I wondered if there was any reason for her constant change in her personality. I decide it doesn't really matter right now. Now is our time to talk about the training session, while my district partner is having her own, after that we'll get to see our scores.
"So, how was it?" Mags asked me, her dark eyes looking into mine. I walk with her to the sitting room. I look at anywhere but her face when I speak.
"Not...so great. I won't be shocked if they give me a low score." I mutter, and finally decide to look over at my mentor, who surprisingly only shrugs.
"Your score doesn't really matter, I've already sealed the deal with some sponsors. And the other tributes will underestimate you, and that will give you an advantage in the Arena. You'll be fine." she says this, and I frown.
"Magsā¦" I say, looking at her as we sit down next to each other on a small blue couch. "I didn't want sponsors because I have a pretty face, I wanted sponsors for my skill." I say, and she just laughs in my face.
"Look, The capital is all about looks. While the hunger games is no beauty pageant, people are gonna wanna keep a pretty boy like you alive, whether you have skills in the arena or not. It doesn't matter their reasoning for sponsoring you, it only matters if they do. And they will. But you've better step up your pretty boy game in the interviews, because they don't want to hear about how fast you can tie a knot or catch a fish. They want to fall in love with you. You need to be desirable. Don't worry about your score so much. Worry about the interview."
I nod at mags, looking down at my hands. The was the second time I doubted Mag's advice. I decided that from now on, I was going to listen to her, no matter what she said. "Thanks Mags." I said with a small smile, and she hugged me. She hugged me as though I were family. Not that my family hugged me that often. This was when I realized, that Mags actually did care, and she was gonna help me the best she could to get out of that arena.
We're called to Dinner after Isabell was done with her session. Not only are use and our mentors there, but our stylists have joined us for dinner as well. We eat a fish soup. That's when I noticed, a lot of our dishes had been based off of things the capital got from district four, in addition to other courses of food we were usually served, the first course was always something from the ocean. Fancy tuna, shrimp, lobster, now fish soup. I wonder if that was a coincidence or not as I took a spoonful of the soup in my mouth. I almost wished it was that nice fettuccini again. I wished Annie could have tried some, she would have loved it.
Isabell and I don't talk. Our mentors and our stylists do though. They talk about some capital citizens I suppose. I wasn't really too interested. After dinner, we all find our way to the sitting room again Since our training sessions are private, the game makers announce our score on television for all to see. Zieum sits down in his own chair, closest to the screen.
"Oh! I'm just so excited to see the scores you got! I bet you two got the highest scores!" He said in a hopeful tone. Though I wonder what lead him to believe we both scored high. I mean, Isabell probably scored high, but I sure as hell would not. My eyes linger on our escort fro just a moment longer, wondering what lead him to have so much faith in me, a fourteen year old kid.
They began to show us pictures of district one tributes. The girl from district one got an eight, and the boy an eleven. District two is in the higher range as well. Both of District three's tributes got a low score, which wasn't surprising at all.
Next was us, District four. I get a five. I watch as the number five flashes on screen next to my picture. I wasn't happy about it, but I wasn't upset either. I could have gotten a two, and not a five. Mags puts her frail hand on my sounder and gives me a squeeze, as if to say "It's fine." Isabell rolled her eyes as she got an eight.
"ONLY an eight?!" She said, standing up, shouting at the television. "Lousy game makers!" she said, crossing her arms over her chest. Mags takes her hand back, and covers her face with her hand, trying to conceal a laugh. Tatum assures Isabell that an eight was good, and she could have done worse like some people. As he says that, his look directs to me, and I sink into the couch, and just kept telling myself what Mags told me. 'Your score doesn't really matter, I've already sealed the deal with some sponsors. And the other tributes will underestimate you, and that will give you an advantage in the Arena. You'll be fine.'
After some social exchange of words with our mentors and stylists, and Zieum grabbing me by the shoulders and said I did good despite my number, we're sent to bed. Once my door closed behind me, I knew that I would have another restless night. I go to the nightstand that was next to my bed, and hope that when an Avox came to clean my room, that they didn't take my piece of rope away. I grin slightly when I see it was in there just as I had left it.
I grab the rope, and sat on the edge of my bed, tying some knots, over and over. Honestly, this piece of rope I stole from the training center has kept the only bit of sanity I have left. After a few minutes of tying knots in silence, I walk over to the window. I tap it and change the view to the ocean yet again. I sat on the ground and crossed my legs, working on the rope again.
It was almost like home. The view of the sound of the waves, the rope in my hand. I looked down at the flooring beneath me. No warm sand to caress my legs though. I looked up at the ceiling that had a dimply lit light fixture. No warm sun to beat down on my tan skin either. I sighed lightly and ran my right hand through my hair, looking at the knots in the rope in my left. And no Annie to show up and comfort me either.
I tie one last knot and toss the rope aside. Despite the rope was no longer in my hands, I still stared at it. What was she doing now? Was she okay? Was she eating? Was she sleeping? There was no doubt that my low score didn't put her at ease at all. I now lay on the floor, staring up at the dim light fixture. Staring directly at it didn't even hurt my eyes. Probably because the lights were so dim. I wondered if I could brighten it, and almost pretend it was the sun.
I prop my head up with my arms resting on the ground behind my head. I didn't sleep well much in those capital beds. Mine at home wasn't comfortable either. The springs creaked each time I made the slightest move at home. The beds here didn't seem to have springs in them at all. Just some kind of soft...spongy stuff that made your body sink into the bed. No, my bed back home in district four wasn't comfortable, but it was home.
Eventually, after my thoughts grow thin, sleep carries me away.
Author's note: Sorry I hadn't updated in a few days. but I'll get back to my normal every day schedule. What'd you guys think about this chapter? Next up, the interviews!
