Author's Note: Hi everyone! I didn't get many reviews last chapter, but I'm sure it was because you were all sad that Cato and Grey had to separate... right? Thanks to those who did review though! Enjoy chapter fourteen! Drop me a review too!
Crowd of Two
Chapter Fourteen
Grey's POV
It's very quiet in my new house in victors' village. I had been almost forced there as soon as I arrived with Finnick in District Four, but all I really wanted to do was to curl up on my bed in my own house where all the memories were. Here, I couldn't stand in the kitchen and pretend I heard my mother moving around sorting furniture for the umpteenth time that month, even though now she was probably somewhere in the middle of no man's land between two districts, if she had gotten that far at all. But really what I was looking for, and what I strained to find in this enormous new house, was a ghost - a tiny piece - of Cato.
I strained to hear his laugh or to see his smirking grin in the mirror. I swore I could feel his warm body beside me at night, but I told no one for the fear of sounding crazy. I eventually put my strange thoughts to the fact that this house was just too big. Every victor's house was extremely large, with enough bedrooms to house you in a separate one each day of the week, even though only one person ever returned from the games to that particular house.
I figured quite quickly into my stay that the reason for all the extra rooms was to make the inhabitant want to fill those rooms. Just think of it, a whole set of victor babies that will eventually become victors themselves. The whole idea disgusted me, and it wasn't just because I missed Cato. It seemed like even ten years in the future, the Capitol still planned on controlling my life.
I tried to act happy for Titus and the others, going out with them during the day as if my death sentence wasn't quickly looming. No one mentioned the games and the denial worked perfectly well for us. But once I got home I would sit at the table (with 9 empty chairs of course) and stare at the phone that refused to ring. Didn't Cato care about me anymore? Was he too busy for a girl from District Four?
A month or so before now, when there was another month left until the reaping and the games, my patience had snapped and I found his number in the unopened book beside the phone and called the District Two victor. It rang for so long that I was about to give up on the idea completely, when a gruff voice answered. I recognised it instantly as Cato's father and my stomach had dropped in fear.
"Hello? Who is this?" I forced myself not to hang up the phone, and I managed to squeak a reply.
"It's Grey. Fr-from District Four?"
"What do you mean 'from district four?'?" He cruelly imitated my nervousness before continuing. "What, are you having trouble remembering where you are from?" Cato's father had chuckled meanly to himself while I stood silently on the other side of the phone, biting my lip.
"Can I please speak to Cato?" I whispered, just loud enough to be intelligible. The laughter abruptly stopped.
"He's busy with training." Came the harsh reply. "He's preparing for the quarter quell. I'm sure if he wishes to talk to you he will call you when he has a spare moment. Now if you'll excuse me, you interrupted my work and it is very important. Goodbye." And with that I was left gaping at the receiver, trying to come up with something to say as I am hung up on.
Now it was only a week before reaping day and Cato had never called. Except for that conversation with his father, I had received no word from the district whatsoever. Maybe going back to his district had awakened his need to win the games - the right way this time - and he really had forgotten about me. Well good riddance, I would forget about him too.
Cato's POV
I wipe the beads of sweat off my face with one arm before resuming my one sided battle with the training dummy in front of me. Time had been slow all day and I couldn't even say how long I had been training without a water break. My vision was starting to get hazy from dehydration and exertion, but when I look towards my trainer he gestures for me to continue with an appalled expression. I steel myself and keep going; if I could just get through these last couple of weeks I would be free of this. I'm 18 years old now; I shouldn't still be at the training center with these teenagers training to be volunteers.
I throw a few more good punches at the dummy in front of me but suddenly I lurch sideways as my body is overcome with nausea. Arms instantly come under my armpits and drag me over to the corner of the training center before lowering me not-so-gently onto the ground. A water bottle is passed to me and I manage to take a gulp before my head is roughly pushed between my knees.
"You never used to do this, Cato. You're bringing shame to the family by the commotion you are causing." I recognise the voice of my father instantly and I refuse to look up even though the sickly feeling is already receding. When I returned from the victory tour, my father resumed his tough routine for me. Apparently he had decided that even if I wasn't picked, I was going to volunteer again. Apparently, my last win wasn't good enough for him because I took Grey out of the arena with me. This time the same mistake would not be occurring again.
"I'm sorry, okay?" I grunt.
My face is yanked up by my hair until I'm forced to look my father in the face.
"You better be, boy." The nickname reminds me of Brutus, but this man in front of me is nothing compared to Brutus, the mentor who actually cared a little about my well-being.
"I think it's best for everyone," He continues, "if you come home when you have composed yourself. Or better yet, spend the night here. It allows you to train first thing in the morning."
"I wanted to call Grey tonight, father." I say, trying to keep the anger out of my voice. He smiles evilly.
"I don't know why you would, my dear boy. She hasn't contacted us at all since you first arrived. It seems she may have forgotten all about you. She always did seem particularly chummy with that boy… what was his name? The interviewed one… Ah, Titus."
I growl and my father's smile broadens. He pats me on the back with absolutely no affection before leaving me alone in the training center.
Grey's POV
Finnick knocks on my door early on reaping day. I am already dressed and ready to go when he arrives.
"Are you okay, sweetheart?" He murmurs, taking me in for a tight hug. I nod and attempt a smile.
"Yep, I'm gunna win this thing!" My mentor laughs and I give him my best career smirk before following him outside.
Because there are so many victors in the district, it's not enough to line them up in front of the non-victor sections and so I am not able stand with Eunia and Terra. Instead, once I identify myself I have to go right up to the front where there is an entirely new area roped off for victors. In the back of my mind I appreciate this, because it means I don't have to walk as far to get to the stage when they pick my name.
Looking up at the stage as everyone else continues to register and get settled, I notice that there are two extra reaping balls. They aren't labelled but I assume that there are two for victors and two for non-victors. It looks like there are a lot of name slips in there but I'm curious to know if the district really is fair and if everyone's name is actually in there.
A couple of minutes later when the noise has mostly died down, Domitia comes tottering on stage in her little heels and she taps the microphone on stage loudly.
"Welcome to the third annual quarter quell!" She says, beaming widely at the audience. "Before we begin, we are going to watch a short film." I prepare myself for ultimate boredom watching the film that I have been forced to endure at every reaping before this one, but instead it is a speech that I don't recognise, talking about the new rebellion. There are murmurs all around me in confusion and I look beside me at Finnick who is giving me the same expression as the one on my face.
It ends abruptly while we are all still talking and I notice the peacekeepers surrounding the crowd shuffle their weapons a bit. There is never this much noise in a reaping. I begin to realise that maybe I have misinterpreted the seriousness of the quarter quell. The last one was 25 years ago, several years before I was even born, and apart from knowing Haymitch from District Twelve won, the information had been kept quiet and it has never been shown publically in my lifetime. At least, I'd never seen it.
"Ahem. If we could get on to the reaping now…" Domitia questions, doubting herself as the people on the ground beneath the stage continue to have loud conversations with one another. Fortunately, they stop after a few more taps on the microphone and suddenly we are plunged into deathly silence once more.
"Oh! Well I thought we could do the victor reaping first. How about we start with the boys this time?" As Domitia swirls her hand in the ball on the far left, I feel Finnick's hand slip into mine. He squeezes just as she pulls a slip out and I squeeze tightly back.
"Finnick Odair."
The first thing I register after the shock is a woman screaming, "Finn!" I crane my head round and see the dark-haired young woman who I know as Annie trying to break through the crowd and get to me and Finnick, who is still standing beside me. As if waking from a trance, he suddenly shakes his head and moves away from the crowd, ducking under the barrier and walking tensely onto the stage. Annie reaches me too late and I wrap one arm around her as she breaks down into tears.
"It's okay," I whisper, "He's going to get out and come back to you." She looks at me with teary eyes but nods with a sure expression.
"And our other victor tribute… Grey. Come on up dear." There's a collective sigh from the crowd as my name is called next, and it is most likely related to the fact that everyone knows about me and Cato. I think we should be called 'the couple that can't catch a break' now. I extract myself apologetically from Annie, who is wailing even louder now, and walk emotionlessly onto the stage to join Finnick. We shake hands with matching smirks to cover up how deeply this turn of events is hurting us. Then we are gently pushed to the side of the stage as the next two tributes are reaped.
"Well this is unexpected." Finnick sarcastically whispers into my ear and I burst out laughing, causing Domitia to give me a sidelong glance as she pulls out the name of the reaped boy tribute. I purse my lips to stop myself from laughing again but to any spectator it would look like we are having the time of our lives up here on stage. It must be the shock of this whole ordeal. I mean, we are going to die in a week and this will probably be our last laugh, literally.
"Titus." She calls out and suddenly my giggling stops and my jaw drops open in horror. I have to stop myself from going up to the escort and ripping the slip of paper right out of her hands. The Capitol could do whatever they liked to me, but when they started messing with my old friends, the ones that have nothing to do with Cato or the rebellion, that's when I snap. I clench my teeth when no one volunteers to take his place and as he walks onto the stage I try my very hardest to pretend that I don't know him. Any relationships in the games turn out terribly and seeing as I already had one…
I'm so focused on not focusing on Titus that I miss the reaping of the female non-victor completely. I don't even notice her presence until she's standing in front of me shaking my hand. She has dark hair and smiles at me sheepishly, but I can see she's struggling to keep it together. I whisper a greeting to her and smile back, hoping to calm her nerves slightly. Under Domitia's direction we all link hands and raise them in the air, representing victory. There's a depressing applause and then we are taken straight to the train. No goodbyes.