Hello, again.
Before you read, to address a probably confusing issue as Estrunk has put it. This story goes day by day from the point when Katniss shots Coin. I guess, yes, there is probably about a month hiatus between the bomb attack on City Circle and the Assassination of Coin, so that is my mess up in the last chapter.
But anyway…to put it in simpler terms, say Katniss killed Coin on a Monday. In this chapter, it is Wednesday. It goes quickly. Haha:)
Enjoy…
Just as Kathrena promised, there was another meeting.
I found myself exactly in the same seat as I was yesterday in the meeting. Everyone has same placement, except for the far end of the table. The new Presidential panel.
Before the meeting starts though, we are, again, ushered our water. The assembled line of waiters flows out of the entrance doors as usual. I look up and count out of boredom.
One black suit, two black suits…four, five…
About the seventh waiter in, I stumble short. Among the uniformed black hair of the other waiters is a spot of red.
A red head.
Kathrena.
My head turns back and I stare down at my hands on my lap, only occasionally to look up when cups are placed on the slick wood near by.
My glass of water comes next and the porcelain hand delivers it.
She smells of roses. Sweet, sweet roses.
"Hello, again." I hear the soft crisp whisper in my ear. "Still figuring out that even slaves have tricks of their own?"
The conversation is clearly not supposed to happen. By the way of the room, waiters only serve, not make small talk.
She is gone before I can reply.
When I turn around to do so, I only see the back of her high heels sauntering out of the meeting hall.
"Excuse me Ms. Tacks?" Plutarch calls despite the chatter of the room.
Her hand barely brushes the door, her tray hanging by her side when she turns to present her self with a…smile?
Her smile is beautiful. It beams, white and glorious…but oh so staged.
"Yes, Game Maker?" She walks over to his chair.
With all of the talk in the room, I cannot make out their short conversation, but when they are done; she straightens and catches me staring.
My cold hard look matches her amused eyebrow –raised one.
I follow her with my eyes as she walks back to the door. When she steps up to the door to leave, she turns again and flitters her fingers in a curt wave.
Paylor gives a loud throat clearing cough and I jolt back into reality.
"As your new President, I would like to bring the meeting to order." The room quiets down. Paylor looks over the crowd with ease. "Well, as first order of business, we are to assign new officials to Districts. Plutarch?"
Paylor sits down and Plutarch shoots up enthusiastically. "Before we begin assigning people, many of our own Capitol Citizens have joined us to volunteer. I will proceed to read the districts that are in need. Once you have heard the District and the positions open, if you want to volunteer, you may. If positions are still open, they will be filled by force." He looks over the crowd and begins.
"District One. Positions needed are Occupancy Officer, and Communications Officer. District Two. Positions needed are Occupancy Officer, Communication Officer, and Security Officer. District Three…" he drones on and on. "And District Eleven. Positions needed are Communication Officer and Trade Officer." Plutarch looks up. "Now, Occupancy deals with population count and such. Communication takes care of news, showing announcements, and updates presented to the Capitol. Security has control of remaining Peace Keepers, and monitoring the fences and construction. Trade is over the District's Trade. District One, volunteers?"
There is a soft eerie silence. I look up and down the table for any takers, until my eyes find Paylor.
She stares at me coldly, as if she expects me to volunteer for this one. This District. Of course she does. Kathrena said so.
"I do." The words are taken from my mouth. Two Capitol citizens have volunteered—both tall, unevenly skinny, and look like walking rainbows.
"Wonderful." Plutarch chirps with a flourish. "Positions?"
"Occupancy." The first one calls.
"Communication." Says the other one.
Plutarch collects their names and scribbles onto a clipboard.
"District Two."
The silence falls again. Paylor looks to me for a second, but then stares down the crowd for other Volunteers.
"Occupancy?" Paylor looks over me again.
Her cold, cruel stare.
"Communications?"
Before I know it, my voice escapes.
"I volunteer."
OOHHH I SOOOO WANNA KNOW WHAT YOUR THOUGHTS ARE:D
REVIEW! duh:P