Interviews go smoothly. Beth is slightly standoff-ish, but otherwise she's quite pleasant. The rude bitch attitude is just an act. Zach wins them over with his big eyes, saying quietly that he'll miss his family when he dies. The whole audience takes a collective gasp and then the vast room is silent as a stone.
My eyes fill with tears, my hand clamped over my mouth.
"Well, you don't know that you're going to die!" Caesar exclaims in an attempt to lighten the mood.
"I hope not." Zach says earnestly. "I really love my mum and dad, and my mum just had a baby. I don't want to leave my new sister before she knows me."
The stadium is silent for a split second, then eighty percent of the crowd begins yelling angrily. A tear spills out of my eye.
Well, you may have just won some sponsors, Zach. I think bitterly.
"He's milking it." Finnick voices floats over my shoulder, the warmth from his body radiating over my arms.
I wipe my eyes quickly.
"I didn't know that, " I say sadly. "About his sister."
"We learn something new everyday." He says gently, studying me intensely.
"Oh, Finnick, please. I told you before, study how weird I am later."
"Why? Do you find me distracting?" He murmurs seductively.
"Not really," I sigh. "Just irritating."
He feigns hurt, gasping dramatically and putting a hand to his chest. I roll my eyes, but it's not as effective with a smile.
He sits with me for the rest of the night, and I catch him looking at his female tribute a few times.
"Isn't she a bit young for the charms of Mr. Odair?" I tease.
I get a blush out of him for the first time, but it's a momentary win.
"I don't seem to have any qualms about flirting with you, now have I? Annie's older then you, seventeen. And she's probably going to die." He says a little sadly. "I'm not getting attached."
I am quiet, thinking about his explicit honesty.
"She's hot too."
The speck of respect slips away as I roll my eyes again. I seem to do that a lot when Finnick's around.
"Although," he says, "maybe I should stop flirting with you. Jax doesn't seem to realise I don't mean anything by it." He jerks his head towards Jax, whose blue eyes are sending icy daggers at Finnick and I.
I scoff. "What does he care? Anyway, why would I bother with you?"
He opens his mouth in shock. "I'm hurt!" He says cheekily.
"Whatever. Firstly, you'd just shag me then move on. Secondly, you're too old for me. Thirdly, they're right, you look like my brother. That's just wrong."
"Your probably right about the first one. But you know the real reason for that." He murmurs. "Secondly," he mimics me, "I'm only nineteen. And, it's so wrong, it's right." He whispers, leaning over me. "And Jax li-ikes youuu." He says in a sing-song tone.
I frown. "I hope not. My best friend was his dead sister. That's a bit of a complication."
"Finnick!" I see the boy tribute from Four calling him over.
Finnick winks at me. "It's only a complication if you let it be."
"But I don't like him..."
But my reply is lost on him as he jumps up and leaves me sitting alone. I'm left wondering if my reply was needed. Finnick knows already what I really think.
The evening before the Games, Zach asks me to tuck him in. He spend forever asking me to get him things, probably trying to hold off sleep so the morning comes slower. I tell him it's going to come either way, and he should try and get some rest.
When he finally lets me leave, I slip into my room, exhausted, to find Beth crying on my bed.
"Tell me everything," she pleads.
"What?" I ask, sitting next to her on the bed. We don't feel the same age. I guess I've grown up faster than I should have.
"About the Games. Tell me all the things you told me before. I can't remember any of them."
I hug her. "You'll be fine. Just remember to run. Don't get caught in the blood bath. It's not worth it. I ran." She nods, sobbing into my shirt.
She sleeps with me that night. I stare out the window all night, feeling her even breath rattle the bed softly. I think about Finnick, how he looked at that girl with sad eyes. I think of honey coloured hair and icy blue eyes, wondering if it really isn't that complicated after all.
Of course it is. I'm a whore. Whores don't have boyfriends.
The room is big, grey and industrious. There's a panel filled with buttons and wall full of screens, twelve of them. So I can watch every aspect of the Games. I heard that I get to see the raw, uncut footage. I'm not sure, since right now the cameras are panning over the landscape as the tributes are waiting in the Stockyard.
I'm shaking. I'm worried about little Zach, and how he's going to get out of the bloodbath. I'm worried about Beth too, but she's smart. If she runs, and gets her sword, she'll be fine.
I'm rooting for Beth. I think she has a chance at winning. I love Zach, but deep down I know he's a goner. He's too scared to pick up a sling shot, let alone touch a knife or a bow and arrow.
The plates are raising up and I search frantically for Zach little braids and Beth's brown curls. I find Beth first, and she has a confident smirk on her face. Where did that come from?
Zach's not as composed. Even as the camera zooms out, I can see him trembling, eyes wet. Poor baby. I frown. I can't sit, pacing along the metal floor. The room feels dead, alone. Chaff is getting me a tea, finally off the drink after I attacked him this morning. Literally.
I pushed him up against the wall and spat some empty threats at him.
He's much bigger than me, but his body is deteriorated, wasted away from his excessive alcohol intake. And having only one arm isn't the best for defense.
Actually, I don't think he's coming back. I might've scared him, but the lure of alcohol is stronger than my hollow threats.
I'm angry, not scared, I realise. There's no way I can do this every year. Watch pair after pair of kids rise up on that platform. Chaff must be laughing at my determination to help these kids. He's probably remembering how he tried to help, but couldn't stand it and stopped. He's just treading carefully around me, waiting for me to give up just like him.
I sink into the leather backed chair. The count is at thirty seconds. I have one sponsor, a measly donation for Beth. Another comes in, a bit bigger. 24, 23, 22... The arena is like a upside down dome, steep hills creeping up the sides. In the lowest point is a small lake and to the right is the Cornucopia. The tributes are arranged in front if it.
15, 14, 13...
I stare at Zach. He's frozen, unmoving in a loose standing position. He's lost the sponsors he won at the interviews. Everybody else is in a poised running position, waiting for the gong.
10, 9, 8...
My heart pounds. I automatically search through the arena for good hiding places, ample food sources and check the Cornucopia's contents.
5, 4...
Beth leans lower, I lean forward, and Zach is unmoving. One is eyeing him up and down, wondering if its worth it. The hungry look in his eyes makes me think he'll settle for any sort of kill.
3, 2..
There's a series of booms, and I rip my eyes away from eyeing up Two. The girl from Eight is gone. Land mines went off, and I see in a replay that she dropped her token, a little wooden ball. I can't even see her. She's just blood, skin and bones, compacted into a pancake on the ground. Theres little bits of her body in other areas, flung wildly at trees and hitting the Cornucopia. I dry reach, struggling to keep my rich breakfast down.
1.
The gong sounds. Beth is off, grabbing a pack near her and speeding off. I silently scream at her. Yes!
Others are not so fast. Most of the Careers are sprinting for the weapons, but I see Annie hesitate, looking shockingly at the splattered remains of the girl, then speed off. But it's long enough for me to gain a bit of respect for the brunette. I like her, I decide.
Many others follow suit. A few look at the remains, then run off. But there's a few; about six, including Zach, that just stand there and stare.
And that's how they all die. The boy from Two, who looked smaller than the rest of the Careers, reveals the reason why. He's an archer, and a skilled one at that. He picks the frozen tributes off, and the girl from One throws a few knives. Zach falls back, an arrow plunged in his heart.
I sit still as a rock, my mouth fallen open. Gone, in a matter of seconds. A tear falls from my eye and then I stand, shoving the chair over. It thumps to the floor. I allow myself a moment of anger and then pull myself together. I'm in control now, and I'm not letting myself fall into that deep, dark hole again.
I knew Zach wouldn't win. But I didn't think he'd be gone this quick. I search the screens, and I catch Beth running, ahead of everyone else. The boy from One had been running after her, but she was much faster. He stopped pursuing her, falling back to join the bloodbath.
Beth's success is bittersweet. I'm not sure how to feel, happy and proud of her, or angry and sad for Zach's lifeless body.
So I cry, watching Beth closely. She doesn't stop running for ages, only slowing to walk as the cannons sound.
One, two, three, four...ten, eleven, twelve...
Fourteen.
More than usual. The clumsy girl has caused more deaths than her own. Only ten left already! Maybe this will end quickly.
I doubt it. The Gamemakers will drag it out. I'm just glad that all this excitement will ensure some peace.
It's nighttime, and I'm sick of this grey room. I've been in here for two days straight, dozing in the couch in the corner and only leaving to grab some food or use the toilet.
I'm overworking myself. I've got my eyes trained on Beth 24/7, watching for threats. I know it's useless, but I can't help it. Finnick keeps teasing me about it.
When I finally leave without a purpose, it's eleven-thirty at night, but the city is still bright with lights. I spy Jax smoking a cigarette a little while away and turn on my heel, but he calls out to me.
"Can't you at least stop avoiding me?"
I flinch, my face burning. I have been avoiding him, but it's mostly when I come out. I don't hide in there. That would be ridiculous.
"I'm not avoiding you." I lie.
"Yes, you are. You turn around every time you see me."
"Fine." I exclaim. I walk over to him. "That's a disgusting habit, you know." I chastise.
"I don't do it enough for it to be a habit." He retorts.
"It's still not good for you." I tease.
"Looks who's calling the kettle black."
"Excuse me?"
"Your habits aren't very healthy either." He murmurs.
"You said it wasn't a habit." I grin.
"What're you, bipolar or something?"
This brings about a sneer, but I don't answer him. I just put my nose in the air. He laughs a little, but his eyes are serious, the icy blue genuine.
I sigh. "Probably." I admit. He smiles, a nice smile, amused, not faked for cameras. I see too many fake smiles these days.
"I was kidding, you know." His eyes fill with concern.
I shrug. "I know. But I guess I have been a little unpredictable of late."
He looks down, but I can see I'm right.
"I'm sorry." My simple words are genuine, but strained. I hate apologising to people. I'm always embarrassed at myself for the fact that I have to do it. It's not the apologising that bothers me. It's the fact that I did something that I need to apologise for.
He just smiles that smile again, and I know I'm falling hard. Shit. I thank him for the smoke and attempt to walk away, but he takes my arm.
"Laurel, why are you so closed off? I know you don't need help, I get it, but we can still be friends." He pleads.
"I don't think so." I choke.
"Why not? I like you, Laurel."
His words are completely platonic, but they hit somewhere else entirely.
"I can't just be friends with you. It hurts too much." I mumble, my cheeks aflame.
When he kisses me, it's gentle, unlike the men who pay for my love. They kiss me rough, hard and desperate. His kiss is soft, like he thinks I'm breakable. It's desperate too, but not with filled with lust.
It's amazing.
He doesn't grab my hair or pull me closer. He doesn't touch me on every inch of my body. He doesn't violate my rights.
He just gently rubs his thumb across my cheek, and with this, a soft, involuntary moan erupts from the back of my throat. He groans a little, and I pull away, the noise somehow awakening me to what I'm doing.
"Oh god." I say, pressing the tips of my fingers to my warm lips. "We can't do this. It's just going to hurt you."
"Why would it hurt me?" Jax asks, his blue pools boring into me.
"Because I'm...you know what I am. I can't do this. It can't be allowed." I say hurriedly.
"I'm sick of rules!" He growls, running a hand through his hair. Oh no. I really want to kiss him again.
I pull my eyes away from him, determined not to let him distract me. I can feel in my gut I'm about to say something stupid, but when has that ever stopped me?
"Jesus, Jax. Rules are made to be followed. It doesn't matter what you're sick of. I'm sick of doing a lot of stuff, but I'm not going to stop doing it. Maybe you should start following them, because whatever you broke before got Artemis killed!"
His eyes flash with anger.
"I didn't kill her! I wasn't there in the arena with her. Not all of this is my fault!" He barks angrily.
I gape at him. "You expect me to take all the blame?" I ask incredulously. "Cause I'm not going to. The Gamemakers sent that rabbit. Dynasty killed her, you did something that sent her there! Someone started the Games, long ago! I may not have gotten there fast enough, but don't you dare say I didn't try to save her. Yes, I was a coward and didn't stay with her as she died, but then I would've been dead! And I wish she could take my place everyday, of course I do. But don't you dare imply that it's my fault." I growl, a few strands of hair falling over my right eye.
Jax is just as fiery as me, just as quick to anger. "I didn't know that it would happen, okay? What I did wasn't even bad, they just wanted to make sure I didn't do something worse! Oh, yeah, sure, when I did it thought, oh, Artemis might die for this, yeah it's all good! I didn't think she would suffer, okay?" He says through clenched teeth and then his eyes soften. "I know you're not to blame Laurel, but please don't say I am. I can barely live with myself knowing she's dead. I know I'm a coward, pretending that it's other people's fault, but I don't know what else to do."
"It was Dynasty." I say helplessly. Because I don't want to take the blame for it any more than he does.
He gives me a weak smile. "Let's just say that." But we are lying to ourselves. Dynasty shouldn't have been able to touch her. And that's where we come in. We should've been better hidden, but I was holding her back. And he shouldn't have done something to put Artemis in danger in the first place.
"Laurel?" Comes his soft murmur.
The sky has gone quite dark, and all I can see as I turn to him is a dark silhouette.
"Yes?" I reply.
"I know you told me about what he's making you do, but I don't care. I'm confused, I mean, if Artemis didn't die, you wouldn't be here now, and I don't know what I should be feeling right now..."
"I don't think we can do this Jax." I whisper.
He looks so confused and sad and torn that my heart just breaks in two. I bury myself into his body, wrapping my honey arms around his broad waist. He puts his chin on my head and I revel in this warmth, this bliss. Because there is no way it will be this simple again.
Then I pull away, not resisting another kiss. I've never been kissed so gently before, so caring.
Don't get used to this, a voice in my head says.
I pull away, and his eyes are the softest I've seen on him.
"I'm sorry." I say, my voice breaking.
Usually I'm the first to turn and walk away, but Jax does this time. I watch him walk away, my stomach churning. Then I run back to the industrial, dead room and cry, watching Beth sleep restlessly