Final… exams… in… two… weeks… I'm too tired to write… sorry, it's short. I'm making the next couple longer…
Chapter Ten
-ANGEL-
They drag me off into the Games. I am locked into a place they call the Training Center. The bedrooms are exquisite, but I have no time to worry about that now. I need to get out of here.
Those people! They know what it's like to be in the Games, to be punished for things their ancestors did. What did I do, apart from being Snow's granddaughter? I grind my teeth in frustration and decide that it's better to use my time wisely: think rather than throw a tantrum. I plop down on the bed, but thinking time doesn't come.
I only stare down at the floor. Finnick will rescue me, I think. But where is he?
-FINNICK-
Cinna proves to be quite a hit in the Capitol.
"Cinna! You're alive!"
"Cinna! You're supposed to be dead!"
"That... that... that..."
"Am I dreaming?"
"Can I have an autograph?"
"CINNA! CINNA! CINNA! I'M YOUR BIGGEST FAN!"
... See what I mean?
I lead Cinna off, away from the crowd and their hungry cameras, off towards the Remake Center. The Capitol people told us to go there first - someone will escort us to meet the tributes. Cinna gets first choice: that's what happens when you come back from the dead.
I grin. This is going to be easier than expected. Perhaps it'll be impossible to get the tributes out myself... but what if I do it during the Games? I think of the Launch Rooms, the tubes that lead up to the arena, and my smile broadens.
-ANGEL-
I think of Cinna, how I had rescued him. It was probably a good choice, because an hour later, I see his broken form walk into the Remake Center beside the Training Center - supported by the frail figure of Finnick Odair Junior. Rescue is on the way.
Three hours later, someone knocks on my door. I open it eagerly and am greeted by the lopsided grin of Finnick Odair II. I hug him before I can register what has happened, but he doesn't seem to mind.
"Hold on, Angel," he says. "You'll survive the Games."
Behind him I see another man, a rebel, who has obviously escorted them up. "I want her," says Cinna.
"Snow's kid?" the man frowns. "Alright, whatever you wish." He pulls out a phone of sorts and barks into it. I take this chance to observe Finnick closely, but he has no weapon, nothing that will assist in getting me out. Cinna and I have a quick chat, and then it's over.
But when I see Finnick out the door, the joys of seeing him again flushed out of my system, I catch a quick look of him. In his gaze, however, holds specific elements I quickly swallow up. It holds a sliver of hope, a flame of courage, a cunning spark, an encouraging twinkle, and most importantly, a sly smile that reads, I have a plan.
Oh, and yes. I'm aware that some people from the STACKS have been finding this… feel free to say so if you're from there! I promise that I'm not a 40-year-old stalker… Um… BACK TO STUDYING.