A/N Hey veiwers! I have literally just seen I broke the 2,000 viewer mark! Been such a great month for views and reviews so thank you all so much :'D Let's end the year on a high and get me to 2800 please?! :D
BloodPixie140- More Rye and Ray coming up in the next few chapters :D Thank you!
mockingjay.22xx- Thank you so much for your lovely reiew, it made my day :D
Radio Free Death- Thank you ever so for spending a fair bit of your time critiquing my work, it's a great help to me to know where I can improve and make things better or phrase them differently or what bits of the text actually sounds alright or where the relationships make sense. Thanks!
Also, I'd like to say I made a little mistake a few chapters back. It was in chapter fifteen, I've now corrected it. Basically, I said Milo's older brother died when he was fourteen, and I didn't realise it didn't make sense at the time. His older brother actually died when he was eight (a time in childhood where play fighting is a pretty frequent thing. Well, in my school it was. Battles every lunch time XD). Please excuse the silly mistake!
My back is straight in the chair, my clothes from yesterday still on my body. I wipe the sleep from my eyes, and force myself to focus of Rye and Ray's serious faces across the desk from mine. The door is bolted, and Milo is off talking to Bertie, Kalya, Khiry, Petal and Stem to keep him busy, I assume, or about the interview clothes. A hand waves in front of my drooping eyes. I jerk upright, willing myself to focus on their faces.
"Sienna?" Rye asks.
"Yes? Speak to me before I fall back to sleep, please." I manage a smile. The pair also smiles.
"We want to talk to you. About Milo." Ray says softly. I feel the cool metal hanging round my neck, where Milo had clipped it together round my neck for me this morning. I blush at the memory, feeling his gentle finger tips running over my neck again. "What about him?" I ask.
"Well it's quite obvious you like him." Ray says. Rye turns, and looks at her crossly. "Ray!" he squeaks irritably.
"Even if that is true, I know the arena is no place for a romance." I say flatly, pushing his face from my mind, and the joy etched out on it when I accepted the necklace.
"Right, Sienna, it's confession time. Do you, or do you not have more than friendly feelings towards Milo?" Rye asks.
I feel an undeniable blush take over my face.
"That's a yes then. So you would date him?" asks Rye, who looks at me with squinting eyes, examining my face.
"Yeah, I guess, but-"
"We could use this to get more sponsors, you know!" Ray interrupts. Another angry look is shot her way by Rye. And another by me.
"If I do like Milo, and find he does like me too, there is no way I'm playing the romance for sponsors. It'll be real and pure. I detest the stupid acts everyone puts on year after year. There's no way I'm going to be a hypocrite and act just like them."
"So anything, if anything happens, will be pure natural? Nothing fabricated for sponsors?" Rye asks.
"No. I'm not going to fabricate anything for money."
"You realise this money if the difference between life and death?"
"Yes, I do." I say simply. But what I have left of it is my life and it's my choice what I do with it. I'm not making my life a lie.
Rye sighs and leans back in his chair, tapping a pen on his pearly white teeth. "Look, Sienna, we don't want you to be forced into anything, but you know more people will consider sponsoring you if you two are a couple in the arena."
"I get what you're saying, but how would Milo feel about this? I mean I'm pretty sure he doesn't like me. He won't pretend either."
"Fine, I guess it's the tragic best friends angle for now then." Rye says. "Off you go, please send Milo, Khiry and Petal in to us. They're in the dining room." Rye smiles, opening the door for me in a gentlemanly fashion. "Thanks."
I cross the apartment to where Milo and the group are sitting, and all eyes are on me as I walk in. "Hi." I say, somewhat nervous and feeling as if I've intruded in their conversation. "Hey, what did they want to talk about?" Milo asks.
"Oh, nothing." I say, dismissively as Milo eyes me curiously. "Nothing! Look, anyway, Rye and Ray want to talk to you and Khiry and Petal." I smile at the three as they leave me alone with Kalya, Stem and Bertie. They're not exactly my favourite people to sit and talk to, but Bertie is okay, and I avoid any conversation with Kalya. We chat about training and today's strategy over breakfast, before they send me off to shower and dress. Everyone is waiting in their clothes when I get back.
"Are you kidding? Training already?" I ask, exasperated, wiping my hands over my face.
"Yes, you know what you're doing today?" Rye asks me.
"Yes. Can we go now? It'll be so awkward and embarrassing if we hold everyone up because we're late." The clock on the wall reads 09:59. Milo pushes out of his chair simultaneously with Rye as an answer. The lift ride is instant, and this time Ray and Rye just see us to the doors and let us take the lift ourselves.
"So, what did Rye and Ray want to talk to you about?" Milo asks, all too casually.
"Nothing. Why?" I raise my eyebrows.
"Oh, just something they said." Milo says, waving a hand, swatting the conversation away. Why is it he seems far too eager to talk about what they said to me, but when it comes to their conversation he won't talk?
I sigh. "Okay. So today, some survival skills and a brush up on weapons? I'd like you to meet Willow and Aaron too; they're the pair from seven."
"I thought you didn't like them?" Milo squints at me, still avoiding looking down.
"Well that was before you chased me up a tree and I jumped out of it. Funny how things change you, isn't it?" Milo grins at me, and the lift doors slide open. We swiftly slot into place, thankfully not the last to arrive; that is district six and eight's jobs. The careers glare at them viscously. Ouch. I'd hate to be in their shoes right now. Milo laughs beside me, and I pivot to him, demanding an explanation.
"They look like you when you're in a rubbish mood."
I give him a sharp elbow in the ribs and a bright smile. "Shut up, Scott."
"As if! It's funny getting you all wound up." He sticks his tongue out and shoves me as we take off to the stations.
Twenty minutes later, I sit, legs crossed opposite Milo on the floor, twirling rope in my hands, trying to tie the knot I attempted yesterday. He gently tries to explain it to me, and fends off anyone who comes near us enough for me to get distracted. His hands tie the knot slowly, for my benefit, however I know in reality he could tie it in mere seconds. The knot tangles again in my hands, and I squeeze my eyes shut, trying to concentrate. I rub my temples lightly and glower at the rope. "I can't do it, Milo. Knots aren't my thing."
"Patience, it'll come." He says, eyes meeting mine before readjusting the rope.
"In the arena there's no time. And patience isn't really my thing, you know that."
"Fine." He sets down the rope. "What would you like to do next then, Sienna?" He asks, waving farewell to the knot tying trainer, who surely loves Milo and his ability with knots and snares. "Your choice, pick anything."
"You haven't tried any weapons yet, have you?"
We end up at the spear station, nervously forcing ourselves through the huddle of the careers- District One, Two and Four, and it seems they've adopted the girl from Six to their group too, though what good she'll do them is beyond me. She's weak, frail, and the only thing with a possible advantage to her is her aim is decent, as I see as a light knife releases from her hand, striking the dummy two inches off the heart. However, soon we find it's nothing comparing it to Milo's brute force with a spear, though it takes him a while to get into the swing of things, his shots at the beginning far too weak. Now, after an hour perfecting his spear work, he's successfully hitting the target every time, managing a heart, stomach or brain every so often. I have a go, feeling the lightweight spear with a triangle spear head in glinting silver poised perfectly, waiting for someone to select it. And so I do, gripping the spear firmly I line up and take a shot at the dummy. I aim for the heart. My throw is way off target, and lodges itself in the back wall, a few feet from where the careers are standing. The glare at me, before they begin to laugh at my failure. Gild smirks and I catch his voice, "Maybe spears aren't your weapon, Cutey." I can't help my face turning a tomato red, and turn away from the group and Milo and head back off to the knives to reassure myself of my skills.
"Come on," Milo says "Spears just aren't your thing. Don't let those stupid, know-it-all careers get to you."
"No way." I say sarcastically. "I only missed the dummy by what, four miles?" I smile and laugh at my failure. "How is it possible to have such a good aim with knives and yet not with a spear?"
"It's wasn't four miles… More like five." Milo chuckles. "Though I have no idea, but well done for being the first person, probably in all of Panem, to manage to miss by that much and still be able to hit the heart of the same dummy with a throwing knife." Milo laughs, and gives me a grin. "Now, Miss Fail, what should we try next?"
I elbow him in the ribs, causing him to give me a stern, offended look before we both begin to laugh again. "Oh, I don't know, why don't we get those time trial things out of the way, and then we can try to boost our odds a bit more?" I ask, and Milo agrees, so we head off to complete the hand to hand combat time first.
We are given a series of twenty moves, rating from easy to hard, and for each one we must successfully pin down the trainer. I look to the total times already set on the board as I stretch out before competing.
1. District two: Gild 231 seconds
2. District two: Paige 246 seconds
3. District seven: Aaron 250 seconds
4. District one: Gleam 252 seconds
5. District one: Estella 268 seconds
6. District twelve: Jasper 350 seconds
7. District three: Elizabeth 377 seconds
Those are some tough times… I jump up and down on the spot before stepping onto the mat, facing the trainer and his glinting purple eyes. Gild's time he set this morning is a record breaker; the fastest male to complete the hand to hand combat ever. I grind my teeth together and picture his face on the trainer I'm ready to bring down. "So, Nine, here is the first move." He shows me each move before getting me timed on it, brining him down. I manage the easy ones in a matter of seconds, much like the careers themselves have done. We go on to the medium and then progress to the harder ones, and I take a little more time on each new move, though I know my time is still good. Milo claps me on as I bring the trainer down for the nineteenth time, and I check my current times. District nine: Sienna 190 seconds. I only have one move to go, and forty one seconds to do it in if I want to beat Gild. It's the hardest move, and I watch carefully as the trainer talks me through it. I haven't seen anything like it before, either in the games or in the training centre. I struggle in his lock, but some how manage to worm free and trap his arms. I twist, painfully hard, before trying to flip him over, but instead he falls on top of me, effectively leaving me trapped. In the games no one would waste an opportunity like this to kill anyone, so I swiftly kick out and eventually manage to pin him down. A whistle blows and they process my times. It feels like an eternity, waiting for my time, and I know my last move wasn't perfect, no where near, in fact.
Finally, my time flashes up as I wash the sweat from my hair.
District nine: Sienna 230 seconds.
I stare, dumbstruck at the time at the top of the leader board, my mouth open in shock, my eyes oblivious to the careers playing with the weapons dangerously whilst their eyes are set on me, ready to strike, ready to kill. Milo breaks my frozen stature with a warm hug. "Well done!" he says happily, his embrace comforting and natural as I bury my face into his shoulder. "Great job, Sienna. You only just set the record time. They can't not give you perfect odds now!" he jumps up and down with me as the relief and joy sinks in. "I beat all the careers." I say, unbelievingly.
"Yes, you did!" he pulls away, hands on my shoulders light, grinning widely as his beautiful eyes shine in the light. "Well done." He squeezes my shoulders tenderly before turning for his go in the hand to hand combat time trails.
I wish him luck before heading over to the gauntlet, which most tributes have already completed. The only ones left to complete the gauntlet time trial is the girl from ten, who's running now, Milo and I. The girl who glares at me sternly from the chariot has now gone, and she looks ever so vulnerable up there, as her legs shake furiously as she leaps and almost slips from on of the highest bars. She stays stationary for a few seconds, gathering her bearings, I suppose, before continuing on the downwards flank.
Jumping slightly in anticipation for my turn, the trainer next to me who signals the tributes to start their run gasps suddenly. My gaze swivels to the girl from ten, who is hanging half off the thinnest bar in the gauntlet, her finger tips trying to dig into the surface and keep her from falling. The careers may be on her team, but it doesn't stop their sneers and jeers as she clings on. Blood floods over her face from a cut on her forehead, presumably when she fell to get into her current position, and the deep, oxidised blood begins to cover her whole, tan face, and starts to soak into her training suit. The trainers and helpers stay to the sides, unable to help her in the time trials. Her grip loosens and a thump echoes out as she finally hits the floor. I wince at the sights of her body twisting and with a sheen of blood over her skin as she lays on the floor, unconscious from the impact of the floor. It is now the trainers rush over, and promptly removes her to the medical floor.
"I hope that didn't unnerve you much." The trainer next to me chuckles. "It's your turn now; they've been wiping down the surface so you don't need to worry about slipping on her blood."
"Thanks for that wonderful image there." I grimace at step up onto the starting platform. I eye the first upwards steps, which then plummet down with a steep gradient before rising and steadying out again, only to cascade up and plummet down for the finish. There's probably about thirty jumps in the gauntlet, so the times won't be as quick as the tributes are ever losing their momentum, but going by the board the careers aren't fazed by that and still set the fastest times in the top eight, the only two edging in there and splitting the pair from One and then the pair from Two are Willow in second place, and then Aaron in fourth, with pretty respectable times. I know I'll have to push myself to even get into the top half of the scores, despite being a great runner.
The whistle sounds and I jump off the start platform, and sprint easily over the first two bars, before the metallic smell of blood hits me head on. I feel my balance slip away from me as I try to steady myself with outstretching arms. Suddenly, with out warning, the trainers start to batter me with padded gloves, to knock me off, I suppose. Forcing myself to press on, I dodge the attacks at find myself at the summit of the gauntlet, and start my journey downwards. I lose my footing once or twice, but I don't fall, and thankfully reach the ground with no damage to me. The loud, thunderous sounds of tributes talking to each other, shouting and metal on metal as they fight, returns to my ears. Whilst I have been running, I have been blocking all sound out, and it seems to work, as I have a decent time, in the top seven. The game makers wandering round watching me mutter in approval, and scribble away on their clip boards and tap away on their tablets. I give a smiling woman a nod, and she grins wider, her thin, orange lips stretching. She gestures to the finale mandatory exercise; the assault course, and I inform her I plan to complete it after lunch. She gives me a pat on the shoulder as says I'm doing good work before tottering off in her huge heels to catch up with the rest of the sponsor group.
Milo bounces up next to me, breathing heavily. "Okay?" I ask him. He nods happily, breathless, pointing speechlessly to the board with the gauntlet times on. Milo Scott sits in bold writing at the top of the times, beating all the careers. It's my turn now to be overjoyed, and wrap my arms tightly around his neck. "Well done!" I squeal. "The sponsors can't ignore us now!" I grin into his fresh smelling hair, and feel his hands on my back, gently holding me, fingertips caressing my spine.
"Right back at you Si. But I told you the other day I am a better runner than you, so why so surprised? I seriously hope my odds are better now; twenty-five to one aren't exactly great." He mutters, sighing heavily, regaining his breath. I can feel the rise of his chest against mine and the rapidly beating of his heart, and it's comfort to my ears. The steady, slowing beat is calming, and almost hypnotising as I listen to every movement it makes. Milo seems intent on hugging me, and I have no intentions of letting go.
The whistle blows for lunch time, and we spring apart, leaping back in a startling fashion. Cyri and Cortez bound up, following Liz, Doyle, and the little boy, Rio, from district eleven; the one who cries during his reaping. Cortez gives me a look that says she knows what we're doing, and Cyri smiles widely. Doyle just smirks. "When you're ready, love birds." He says in his deep voice. "I want to get lunch."
"We're not-" I begin.
"Just leave it, Sienna, they'll drop it soon enough." Milo smiles warmly and links his arm through mine. "This way, Miss Fail, if you'll please." He pulls me through our group who chuckle at his act, and I am oblivious to a tiny fragment of an unidentifiable look in his eyes as he looks at me fondly, pulling me to his side so my head can rest on his shoulder.
"Why thank you, Milo." I grin as we walk to the dining hall.
The rest of the day training after our lunch progresses quickly, and Milo and I have to move swiftly to each and every survival station in order to cover the basics. It turns out our team, no matter how much of the underdogs we look, have some incredible skills I'm sure could easily match the careers. We have one or two strong people for each station, at least. The game makers must've thought they could have this games wrapping up quickly, with little fuss, and would put the boisterous, restless communities of One and Two to rest with a new Victor. Do they think that will honestly settle the talks of rebellion there? I find it hard to believe they are so openly talking about it on the news channel too and even more so to the fact it's One and Two and not the districts like Eleven or Twelve.
I watch my group scattering round the stations whilst I familiarise myself with how to make and find shelter. Milo is with Cyri and Cortez over at the sword station, practising with swords, machetes and scythes. Willow and her partner are making little conversation with Doyle and Liz over at the climbing part of the training centre, though their atmosphere around them doesn't appear to be hostile. The girl from eight, and the boys from ten and eleven are on their own, working their ways through survival skills, and the girl lights a fire with no problem and swiftly moves on to the edible insects and plants, and passes without blinking an eye, and then onto the fishing station where she easily makes fish hooks from nothing. I make a note to keep her with me in the arena at all times. I finish up with my make-shift leave and wood shelter which a breath of air would blow down, just as the bell sounds for the end of our second day of training. I find Milo in the crowd at we board the lift with our allies –I don't dare use the word 'friends'- and shoot up blindingly fast to our floor.
A/N- Sorry for not updating on time, I had my drama exam and was at football matches, so I hope this larger than usual chapter helps make up for it. The second part of this chapter (it was around 6,000 words before I split it in two, and I'm still typing) will be up later this week (Friday/Saturday). Hope you viewers like it, and thanks once again fo getting me to 2,000!