A Vivid Note: are you enjoying the festivities? Because we're not done yet with the night and now the pieces are almost lined up. As the master of this universe, I'm pleased with the way the events are unfolding before me. Are you excited...? Or are you scared...?
Some nice murdering done this chapter. So excited, so excited~! HAHAHAHA!
Thank you, by the way. Whenever I see that little [Review Alert] in my inbox I just beam from ear to ear. I've slowly come to recognise your names and the tones in which you write, and I take peeks at your stories to see what sort of styles you personally enjoy.
I think that's why I wanted to write a story brought together with friends. I knew that it would bring me this level of happiness, deep down.
So thank you.
Capitol Question #011; which character would you dance with formally were you to choose?
Kiss-Kiss,
Vivid.
The Capitol Games
Faye-Anna Cholores; 14 years; the Capitol Sector 6.
After Natalia finished singing her song and the stage was taken over by a band I can't recognise, this whole party suddenly... sort of... got... a lot drunker. Everyone is singing and dancing wildly- and even here on the wall I keep getting bumped into by anyone and everyone- all trying to get to different places at once.
It's dizzying to watch them all, so I keep my eyes trained on my drink. It's just water- since everything else seems to be alcohol in disguise- but it doesn't help me feel much better. My stomach is in tangles. I had wandered into the bathroom before all the singing started and witnessed a woman purging her guts up all over the floor.
I really hope they've cleaned that up, because I've been holding in a lot of water ever since then- and I don't know how much longer I can hold it in for.
Liotta and Sapphire were with me for a little while, but they kept being pulled away from me by their mentors and escorts- so we've sort of given up on reconvening. Vince hasn't even bothered to try and find us, so I'm guessing that he's been held up somewhere. Sienna and Baby told me to use the party time to relax while they sort out potential sponsors- they're still babying me because of last night- and Wezca... well Wezca he... he's become sort of a pillar to lean on these past few days. I'm glad he's my stylist.
Me- well, no one really shows much interest in the fourteen year old girl with bulimia. I've just been wandering about aimlessly for the past half hour.
There's no way I can win against the rest of them.
I scored a 3. Not really a great number to get, but what did I expect? The other tributes... apparently Capitol kids aren't as meek as I might have thought.
Jason, Liotta's partner- tore out his wings with his bare. Hands. How on Earth can I compete with someone who can willingly yank out what is essentially a small limb out of their back- and continue standing? Then there's Vinel, who I heard from Sapphire has been bragging that he was the one who smashed the weight clean through the camouflage table. I mean, is that even possible to smash a heavy table with just a hand weight?
-that's not even counting the rest. Here I can catch words of what the others did. Lances, bows and arrows, karate, throwing knives- these other kids from the Capitol... they're better than me...
Part of me wishes I were sportier rather than well read. What good will books do me in the arena? What, will I read some someone a bedtime story and kill them when they fall asleep? Even that joke makes me feel sick to my stomach.
Sighing, I look around the room for the hundredth time. What I really need right now is somewhere I can breathe freely and relax. If the restroom wasn't filled with vomit and giggling women, that'd be my first choice. The balcony seems to be filled with smokers- defeating the point entirely- and outside... is outside even an option...?
"...excuse me; can I talk to you for a moment?"
I don't recognise the voice. And when I turn around to see who it is- I feel my stomach lunge into my throat, and I almost drop my drink in alarm.
It's the guy from Sector 7. That huge black guy.
Ferroh Axum.
"W-W-What?" I double back into the wall, staring up into those blank brown eyes. "W-Why? H-Have I d-done something-?"
Calming down is an impossible option. Even when his face falls and he raises his hands to try and dissuade me from falling deeper into a panic, I just start breathing harder.
Ferroh and I have exchanged no words up until this point. Sure, I admit I glanced at him possibly a few too many times because his skin color stood out, but I didn't mean any disrespect by it-!
"I... I don't want to upset you or anything," His voice is deep, but casual. "I mean... it's quite uh... out of the blue, I guess... but I wanted to ask if you'd ally up with me."
-!
This time I do drop my drink.
"Ah-!" Water splashes down my orange dress- and I barely have time to screech when the glass smashes against my foot and cuts into the skin. "Ah- ow! Ow!"
The wincing goes internal as I scream into my mouth- making a high pitched wail inside my throat. Ferroh's eyes go wide with shock and quickly ducks down before I can stop him- brushing the shards of glass off my foot- not caring for the cuts he's surely inflicting upon himself by doing so.
"I'm sorry-" Ferroh's face contorts with pain as he inspects my foot. "I shouldn't... I shouldn't even have asked- god, sorry-"
Through pressed teeth to ignore the stinging pain, I glance down at him. "W-Why on Earth would you want me-?"
Ferroh is quiet as he tries to pat the bleeding down with his hands to no results- but when he finally straightens up, he can't meet my eyes. Almost as if he's feeling embarrassed, I feel my chest begin to feel less tight as he says quietly-
"...I got a good feeling about you... you're the only one who hasn't stared at me like I'm some sort of lunatic..." He then glances up, his face morose. "...until now I guess."
My face goes red with embarrassment. "You scared me is all! Right now I'm feeling... well... I scored a 3... I'm feeling a bit... you know..."
As I trail off into profuse stuttering, Ferroh's shoulders sink back into a relaxed state and a trace of a smile forms across his face. I can feel my leg starting to quake under the shock of being injured, and as I slump against the wall Ferroh leans forwards and holds me up by my underarms.
"You're a fragile thing aren't you?"
A little sadly, I nod. Ferroh chuckles the smallest laugh as he lifts me off the ground entirely- seeming to draw pleasure from the horrified look I give him.
"Don't worry," He says, smiling. "I'm just gonna find you somewhere to sit. Unless you'd rather make this easier and let me piggyback you?"
...Is this really happening? Ferroh always seemed so standoffish- like- like a lone wolf or something. But this guy just offered me a piggy back ride because I cut my foot from dropping a glass! Are there two different Ferrohs or something?
There's no way to argue with him though. He sets me back on the ground and I clamber onto his back- unable to believe this is actually happening. The moment my arms are wrapped around his shoulders and his arms are supporting my legs- the entire room seems to take notice of the two of us and I'm met with several hundred adoring looks.
"Guess they think we're cute now." Ferroh mutters with a smirk. "What do you think?"
I really hope my face isn't still red. "I-I don't know what to think..."
For the first time in a few days, I think my brain has shut off entirely. It's almost been four minutes since I've remembered that I'm going to die in just a few days.
"Let's go find somewhere to fix you up, yeah?"
"Y-Yeah..."
...did fate just throw me a chance... in the form of Ferroh Axum?
Ferroh Axum; 17 years; the Capitol Sector 7.
No one will believe me when I say that I want to protect this girl. 'He's using her for sponsor points' They'll all say. 'And he'll kill her off as soon as she loses her use.'
But that's not it at all. Sure, I know next to nothing about Faye-Anna except that she scares easy, doesn't look very healthy- and she reminds me just a little bit of Quinn with her quiet nature- but I wasn't lying about that good feeling. I know that if I keep her safe, then good things will happen.
...I guess she's what you'd call a morality pet, maybe. As long as I'm with her, I feel sort of... like I do back home, with my friends.
"Is this really okay?" Faye asks sheepishly, holding onto my shoulders tightly. "I-I don't know if we're allowed to leave the party like this..."
She's such a worrier this girl, it makes me smile. "We just need to find the medical station in the training centre, that's what Eden said."
I had asked Eden, Galaxy and my District mentor, what I should do with Faye-Anna with her foot cut up. It's not in a bad state, and could probably do with just a bandage- but Eden agreed with me that it should be disinfected. So she walked us out of the ballroom on the second floor- apparently right above the training centre- and sent us down the hallway to hail the elevator downstairs.
"Does it hurt much?"
"It stings a little... I hope they don't have to cut it off or something."
She giggles weakly, and I feel my lips twitch a little. Highly unlikely that it got infected, it was just water in her glass after all, but the thought isn't nice. As adorable as piggyback rides are to those potential sponsors in the room- I don't think I could keep this up for the entire Quell.
It's no issue reaching the elevator, but there's a bit of trouble pressing the button with my hands occupied holding Faye up. So Faye has to reach down- and we wobble for about a minute before she managed to hit the down button and for the elevator to slide down to collect us.
In the solitude of the elevator, Faye-Anna finally speaks again. "...were you... serious... when you said you wanted me as an ally?"
Since we're only moving between one floor, it's no surprise that the elevator dings before I answer her. But before stepping forwards, I merely nod in response.
"...but... I scored a 3..."
"I don't care what you scored," I cut her off blankly. "I scored a 10. That's more than enough for two people to share, isn't it?"
Faye is quiet, and the two of us reach the doors to the training centre. The medical station is built into the wall; because it's another one of the stations I guess. But when we reach the doors- almost instantly we realise that they're probably locked, and we've been sent down here without a key.
I look up at Faye, and she stares at the door confused. "Should we go back for the key?"
-But at the sound of her voice, the door creaks open... and there's a very definite chill hanging in the air as we stare forwards in silence to the darkness waiting inside.
"...guess it was already open..." I try to sound casual, but I'd be lying if I didn't say I was spooked. Doors that open themselves have never been something I enjoyed. "-come on-"
With my knee- I push the door open wide enough to enter, and with Faye clutching my shoulders as tightly as feasibly possible- we walk inside.
During training, it was easy to ignore the echo of your footsteps, your lance- the clanging noise of metal against metal. But when it's just you and the girl you're piggybacking- that echo seems a thousand times louder. Every step seems to mask a snicker, a shadow, a voice...
"-a-augh..."
Faye shrieks in fright and falls off my back, and in the pitch black of the room I whirl around find her again- but instantly she grabs onto my legs and begins to heave frantically as the low, gurgling moan fills the room.
I didn't imagine that.
My heart pounds in my chest as I hear footsteps from all around. "WHO'S THERE?"
And in an instant, the lights flicker on- and standing by the door is the pair of twin Gamemakers, one with his hand on the light panel- the other with his fingers clasped around the doorhandle.
"We didn't hear you come in." They chime cheerfully, tilting their heads towards one another. "Sneaky little things aren't you?"
Faye-Anna hiccoughs, but her hands don't leave my trouser leg. I don't like the smiles that seem to peel across the two men's faces. Steadying myself, I manage to hold the strong, steely expression I've been perfecting since I walked up onto that stage.
"...we're here for a bandage," I say blankly, gesturing down to Faye-Anna. "She cut her foot on some glass-"
I'm cut off as the two men tut disapprovingly. I flinch a little, disliking the mocking tone they have even now as they raise their hands up and shake their heads in perfect synchronisation.
"Then by all means," the two men open up their orange eyes and gleefully narrow them. "Go ahead~!"
These men are undeniably creepy. The idea of them being part of the Gamemaking team deciding our fates certainly doesn't settle my nerves any. Faye-Anna has gone completely stiff with fear, and it's a complete struggle just to turn around and try and step towards the medical station with her gripping onto me for dear life.
"Oh I'm sorry Ferroh darling, I'll be out of your way in just a moment~!"
The voice of Iilvsea Crane temporarily startles me, but my eyes only focus on her smiling face for a fraction of a second before they fall to the ground beside her.
Suddenly I know exactly why Faye-Anna is terrified.
Upon the ground it lays; trembling and pulsing- this unrecognisable lump of blood and flesh, heaving for air as it struggles in a puddle of muck. Instinctively I stumble backwards in horror, the heat rushing from my face as I hear the thing moan in pain. I watch as a stump that looks like a disfigured hand weakly claws out- splashing aimlessly in the puddle of black and blue sick...
It's not a person. There's no way that pulsating mound of black and red remains could be a person. There is no way something like that could be alive-!
"Well?" I see Iilvsea beside the mass of tortured remnants place a hand on her hip, mocking impatience. "Didn't you say you needed a bandage for the little darling's foot?"
I can't speak. I can't even move out of this fear grappling me. It feels like my lungs are shrivelling up inside just from the sight of that- that thing. As it writhes I hear Faye-Anna beginning to dry retch on the ground at my feet; I fight hard not to do the same.
Seemingly oblivious to the mass on the ground, the Head Gamemaker pouts in annoyance. "Do you need me to get it for you? Tch," She shoots a slight smile towards the two male Gamemakers. "What lazy tribute we have! Ah well, it can't be helped I guess~!"
Without even flinching, Iilvsea Crane takes one short step over the shuddering figure and begins to dig about in the drawer that pulls neatly from the wall for a roll of bandage. Behind us are the sound of quiet snickering as the thing lying under Iilvsea begins to move slowly.
Inhaling sharply I freeze- finally able to recognise the bloodied pulp as human as it rears its pulverised head from the pool of sick. My mouth fills with the vapour of vomit as the flat side faces towards me- unidentifiable black and red bulges staring out from the curtain of matted hair.
It's... it's looking at me...
"Here we are," Iilvsea calls out cheerfully, holding aloft the bandage roll. "Are you a good catch?"
As hard as I try- I can't open my mouth. Something inside tells me that if I open it there'll be no way to stop me from shouting in horror. But the oddly kind looking Iilvsea lobs the roll of bandages into the air anyway, and I only just manage to snap out of my panic and keep it from falling to the ground, which is still being covered by a heavily shaking Faye-Anna.
"Ah! What a good save! Bravo darling~!" squeals Iilvsea in delight, clapping her hands together. "Wasn't it a good catch Winn? Remy?"
It takes me a moment to realise that these must be the names of the creepy twins.
"Yes Boss."
A telltale creak from behind says that the doors have been open wide once again, and by the way Iilvsea is smiling blankly- with those forever half-closed eyes focused squarely on me- it's obvious that Faye-Anna and I won't be tolerated here much longer.
"Please enjoy the rest of the party Ferroh darling," Iilvsea curtsies daintily, holding the hem of her black dress gently. "You too, Faye-Anna sweetheart."
A hand grips my shoulder. Spinning to meet their eyes, I'm alarmed to see one of the twins staring me in the face with a maniacal grin. Sure enough, Faye-Anna is hoisted to her feet by the other- with such ease it would seem she weighs nothing at all.
Both of the men break into coy smiles. "Please enjoy the rest of the party~!"
Without another word- the two of us are steered outside. Once on the other side, I look back at Iilvsea- now blocking the monstrosity she had so coolly ignored with her legs. As my heart continues to race, I look from each of their faces- wanting, needing some sign that I didn't imagine that... that thing on the ground...
But their smiles don't falter. The two twins exchange a smirk before bowing Faye-Anna and I out and gripping their doorhandles.
"Goodbye."
And as the door to the nightmare shuts, Faye-Anna loses the fight and vomits over the ground while I fight harder than I ever have before in my life against the instinctive urge to run and call for help. To scream over the pulp of a person that must still be shivering in there.
Was all that really... real?
Minerva Nanaia; 18 years; the Capitol Sector 4.
At first the idea of this party completely irked me. After all, I didn't really have time to waste on a party. Tomorrow night I'll be sitting in an interview that could very well determine whether all of Panem will want to sponsor me or not. With something like that looming over me, how could I possibly think of using my time doing anything besides prepare?
That was before I began to enjoy the pleasant atmosphere of the party that I've never really experienced before now. The ambiance of everyone enjoying themselves; drinks in their hands, dancing, laughing and talking... I only wish I could've gone to more of these before my name was pulled.
But I had always been so busy, too busy to party. Always writing, working, sketching, planning... it's a pity that the only time I've ever had to let loose is two days before my potential death.
It's also a pity I didn't get to spend it with Vidar.
I miss him, painfully. The ring on my finger is no longer a comfort, but a heavy weight reminding me what I stand to lose should I not survive these Games. Outside of this party, way back in the part of the Capitol now known as 'Sector 4' is the other ring, along with my Vidar.
He would've hated this party, I'm sure. Vidar always hated all examples of the Capitol's decadence- mainly because he and his family were so poor in comparison to the majority of the Capitol. I'm sure he'd say something about the elaborate paintings on the ceiling being pretentious- with their depictions of beautiful male and female characters wandering through a vibrant forest dressed in ball gowns completely inappropriate to explore in.
That's where Vidar and I are different. I actually like the Capitol's extravagance. When I gaze up at the sky of this room, I can almost see these people dancing in those magical woods. They remind me of an old tale about a dream which a girl wandered into and became lost in... only to awaken from her adventure with nothing to show for it.
...Wonderland.
Beauty like this is loved only in the Capitol. Show something like this to the Districts and they won't appreciate it in the same way. They have troubles, and see things like paintings and books as waste.
That's why I never hated the Capitol. Even the Hunger Games I found happiness in, because it was the fruit of my parents' efforts. As Gamemakers they crafted the arena, the twists and turns... it was always beautiful.
But...
My parents are no longer Gamemakers, and I don't know why. With those seven Gamemakers I couldn't recognise standing around that table during my private training session- that was when I knew for certain something was wrong.
My Father was Head-Gamemaker last I heard. Now, all of a sudden this 'Iilvsea Crane' girl is Head-Gamemaker, and my Father and my Mother are nowhere to be seen.
I want to know where they are, but the thought of asking any of the current Gamemakers gives me a really bad feeling that they would lie. But aside from them, no one else seems to know. Our Sector escort and mentor both couldn't tell me anything- and when I finally voiced my concern to Vinel earlier today, all he could do in response was shrug.
He's on the dance floor right now, supporting the giggling girl from Sector 11 who seems to be something along the lines of his girlfriend. As much as I think that it's ridiculous for people to try and delude themselves into finding love during something as awful as the Hunger Games- watching them makes my heart yearn for Vidar.
Cotton looks beautiful. Her platinum blonde hair doesn't stand out too much in the rainbow of Capitol onlookers, but now that my attention is drawn to her I can see why Vinel picked her out of all the other girls. In training she seemed a bit... well, sparky- but she's part of the Capitol-career group that Natalia put together, so perhaps there's more to her than meets the eye.
I'd love to have someone distract me from reality, but I decided long ago that I needed no allies. I would do this alone- and not lean on anyone else in these Games. Last night was a moment of weakness, and though I appreciated Vinel's offer- I refuse to rely on it.
Although, it definitely improved my opinion of him. When I first met him, I was so sure he was just a boy ready to hit on any skirt that walked past. Though, that may be partly true- I can't see any other reason to be with Cotton, really- he also seems to have some sort of... goodness to him...
"Minerva?"
Snowflake was the last person I was expecting to see, but here she is, looking me oddly shy in the face as her hands clamp around something crisp and white. An envelope, I think.
Quick and to the point, the escort holds forth the letter for me to take. "This is addressed to you; it has a Gamemaker's seal- so it must be important."
The moment it leaves her hands, they sort of hover as I slowly examine the outside of the unknown message. I look up, and the woman continues to stare at me- probably wanting to know what the message is herself.
Since I don't know what it could possibly be, I know none of the Gamemakers now after all; I nod to her, turn and walk away, ignoring the huff of disappointment that follows.
Once I'm safely away from prying eyes, I break the gold wax seal- a sort of delicately drawn HG, for 'Head-Gamemaker', obviously- and slowly pull out the contents. Under the light I can see one is some sort of diagram, so I reach for the paper with writing- which will hopefully give me some sort of explanation.
Unfolding it and squinting under the ballroom's lights, I read-
Dearest Minerva,
The Quarter Quell is out of my hands. We have been voted out of our positions on the Gamemakers team. Everyone has been replaced and removed.
...this is...?
Crane is a force to fear Minerva. I do not doubt for a moment that she will take her anger of me out on you inside that arena's circumference.
...Dad...?
These Games are more than they want us to believe. They were an intentional mistake. It goes back further than we anticipated. It is out of even the President's hands now.
It is fate that you were chosen. You can survive. Already you know the arena better than even the Gamemakers do.
Heart racing, I begin to unfold the other piece of paper.
God guide you Minerva. Be safe and return from the Games. This should never have been your battle to win.
I am sorry.
Breathing hard- my eyes fall from my Father's apology, and focus on the map inked hastily in blue and black on the spare piece of parchment- torn from my Father's work book.
"...Oh my god..."
In the flash of an eye, I know it all. The forest, the lake, the caverns- it floods back to me as quickly as it had swum into my mind.
-this is my arena.
This is the first arena I mapped out as a child.
I ball the paper up tight in my fist as I try to steady my breathing before the rest of the room notices me.
...they're... they're using my arena?
Montserrat Pierre de Saint-Phillipe; 18 years; the Capitol Sector 9.
There are several reasons I don't do party drugs, drink or smoke.
One, they don't help with my weight training. I've seen what performance enhancers do to guys. They turn into wife-beaters and coke-snorters, drunk on the fear that others have of them because of how bulked up they are.
Two, they waste energy and ruin your body. Teeth, eyes, and stamina- it screws them all up. For years I've been working hard to keep myself as healthy as I possibly could- which is a damn hard thing to do in a Capitol society.
Three, they just ruin your life.
I meant what I said earlier to Diego. I've never been a big fan of parties. Whenever I was invited to one by the guys on the swim team or in the track field club I would immediately say no. And yeah, they'd snort and shake their heads and try to convince me that I was being lame- but nothing could change the fact that I just couldn't enjoy these things.
And I still can't. Being here has only cemented that I'm glad with all the times I said no, because if those parties were anything like this- I've saved myself a lot of hassle over the years.
Middle-aged men and women, sadly more men then I'd care for, keep asking me personal questions. 'Do I have a girl back home' or 'Am I fighting for anyone in particular' are the favourites apparently, along with offering me a wide array of illegal substances conveniently stashed in their back pocket.
I say no to the questions and the drugs- because that's what Frilli berated me into doing- but I really just want to tell all of them to bug off. Maybe even say that I do have a girl back home, or that I am fighting for someone in particular- but then I remember there's only one girl that could be... and my stomach sort of... withers.
Thinking of Eresenda and her feelings for me sends my head spiralling. There is no clear answer to how I should respond. After all, I don't love her more than a sister- but I won't go as far to say that the feelings could never be reciprocated.
I've been liked about three times before in my life. The first two were in the first few grades of school- one involving a marriage conducted with a jelly ring. The third was when I first became a senior, and it was a guy. On the same swim team as me.
Yeah. It was awkward finding out about that one.
Love, I'll admit, was never part of my plan in life. I want to be a professional shot-putter, living in a decent apartment in the centre of the Capitol. A family wasn't anything I ever wanted; because I figured I already had a pretty big one already. My sisters and Fathers were more than enough for me- so much so that I didn't even care that I've never had a mother figure in life.
If anyone else had fallen in love with me, I'd have said no. No question. I won't put their happiness upon me when I don't know if I can reciprocate it.
...but Eresenda is my sister... sure, not related to me in any way, but in essence she has always been, and will always be my sibling. I want her to be happy – but if I go home to her only to say that I won't be with her...
...it's like I can't win. Survive these Games or not, unless I truly love her myself, I'll never be able to go home again. Not with that girl I wanted to keep from crying holding all she has on me coming back to her.
Great work Monty. I groan quietly as I reach for my glass of punch. Die or live with the guilt of breaking her heart. Neither sounds at all enjoyable.
"Uh, can you move aside? I'm trying to reach those-"
Suddenly alert I jump sideways before I even recognise the guy. It's the male tribute from Sector 10- Jasse Harridan. There's a brief awkward pause as we stare at one another, unsure whether to speak or not, but he leans in towards a platter of cocktail wieners and grabs several in his fist before leaning back and looking at me with an awkward smile.
"Yeah, I'm hungry," smiling sheepishly, Jasse forces one of the sausages into his mouth. "You know the ipecac solutions they usually keep right by the bathroom? Yeah. Accidentally drank some thinking it was orange punch. They're cleaning it up now."
Stunned at the fact this kid I haven't spoken two words to is talking to me so openly, I have to remind myself to laugh awkwardly at his story.
"That sounds awful," I say with a simpering laugh. "That's why I never let go of my drink."
"Yeah..." His jaw twinges a little, no doubt still tasting the vomit. "So, you're Montserrat right? Can I call you Monty instead?"
No one is this casual without alcohol.
"Uh, sure. Everyone else does." Unsure of what to say next, I stick out my hand for him to shake. "Nice to meet you?"
Jasse takes a look at my hand, snorts, and reaches for it with a grin. "You're surprisingly formal for a guy with a bright yellow mohawk."
"Haha, well I have this friend who's really formal... I guess it's rubbing off on me." I cringe a little as I realise this; Diego's impact on me as a person.
As I say this however, Jasse's face falls.
"I haven't made any friends like that..." His suddenly glum face turns curious. "Hey, were you asked to be part of Natalia's group? I mean, you're pretty buff- we could use someone like you."
I guess that's why I didn't talk to Jasse. He's one of Natalia's crew.
"Yeah, but I don't think it's the best choice for me," I say as casually as I can without coming off as rude or ungrateful for the suggestion. "Good luck to you though."
There's an odd pause. Then, without warning, Jasse suddenly takes a step towards me- looking up at me, eyes shining with something unreadable. I edge away, but I end up backing into the corner table and feeling strangely terrified.
In the lowest of whispers, the boy looks at me with the widest eyes I've ever seen, and says-
"...you have a Sector partner right?"
...yeah... he's definitely drunk.
"No, I mean- you've got one of those sort of weak girls, yeah?" I'm so glad I'm taller than this kid, or else this'd be mortifying. "Because I'm having real trouble with mine- I don't know what to do..."
Though I try to recall who Jasse's Sector partner is, I draw a blank. I haven't talked to any of the girls aside from Natalia and Britney, and to be honest I don't see a need to.
That aside, I might as well try to help the intoxicated kid. "Uh... what's the problem?"
Jasse draws away from me and opens his mouth to begin- but silently he closes it again, having second thoughts. I wait, and though he opens and closes his mouth like a dying fish, after a few minutes he suddenly throws his hands up in the air.
"I don't know what to do man!" He cries bluntly, throwing the last of his fistful of appetisers back on the table. "She's going to get killed. She's gonna get killed and there's nothing I can do about it. I don't even know why I care!"
And as simple as that, Jasse Harridan turns on his heel and walks away in a fury.
...
I have absolutely no idea what I was thinking about before.
...And perhaps that's a good thing.
With a smile I'm not exactly sure why I have on, I reach over and finish off the last of the cocktail wiener plate; happy to have something non-medicated to occupy my thoughts.
-For a few minutes.
Natalia Marinos; 17 years; the Capitol Sector 2.
Alright, fine. I'll happily admit to what I'm doing.
I'm making enemies with all the other girls for apparently no reason other than me wanting to be a mean, horrible person. Yeah, sure- I'll go along with that delusion of theirs. That's what I did all throughout school after all, let all those other girls convince themselves that I was just that creepy girl with a twin brother who just didn't know when to back down and be trod on.
Everything I do is for one purpose, and it's not a selfish one.
I do it to win.
That's why I've built together a group of the strongest competitors in what was probably meant to be the first Hunger Games in an age without careers. It's why I weeded out the trustworthy and the gullible from the stubborn and unpredictable. And it's the reason why I got up on that stage and grabbed at the audience's heart before anyone else even had the thought to do the same.
But no one believes that. They don't think it's part of a strategy.
They just think I'm being a mean, cold-hearted witch.
"Perhaps you're right about that..."
The echo of that infuriating boy's voice sends angry pulses up my spine- ringing inside my head.
"-but it does mean that I'll certainly kill you, Natalia."
Never before have I felt hatred like this, or for someone so young. Marshall Matthews is fourteen years old- and yet he's played my emotions like an instrument, starting from when we first locked eyes on stage.
All through training I believed that the boy was only talk. Sure, he could do fancy little acrobatic stunts- but what good would that do him when I had a blade poised at his gut?
...but... then he scored an eleven... higher than everyone else... and suddenly his words finally had the power to scare me.
The Gamemakers believe Marshall Matthews to be the most dangerous of us all. How can I not take heed from that?
"Natalia? Is something bothering you?"
Brandit's hand on my arm suddenly reminds me where I am, and that I'm on the verge of shattering my wine glass in my hand. Loosening up, I smile shakily, unable to meet his gaze.
"Yeah, but it'll pass." I hope. "What's up?"
The boy frowns slightly. "Just wondering where everyone else is... I guess."
That perks my interest a little; something better to think about than Matthews anyway.
"Anyone in particular?" I ask, taking a sip from the red wine. It's sweet. "Or just everyone in general?"
Brandit's lip twitches. "...I haven't seen my Sector partner in almost two hours."
It takes me a second or two to recall who Brandit's Sector partner is until I remember. Faye-Anna Cholores, the fourteen year old girl who looks permanently ill. Once I have her in mind, I nod- scanning the area.
"She might be in the bathroom," I suggest with a shrug. "Is it really bothering you? I thought you weren't friends."
With a start, Brandit quickly shakes his head- almost in denial. "N-No we're not, but..." His face falls. "...she's one of those people you just feel sorry for... you know? I have a little sister, it's sort of-"
I smile. "A brotherly thing?"
Looking a little surprised, he nods. "Yes. Exactly."
The only reason I could guess is Nate once said the same thing to me after I was being bad-mouthed by one of his friends. 'A brotherly thing' he called it when he explained why he got more upset than I did.
Honestly, I don't care too much about Faye-Anna- but Brandit is the closest thing I've got to a friend here, and seeing him look so worried irks me a little bit. If we were back home I'd do anything it could to make him feel better, and I don't think the principle has changed even though we're in a Hunger Games ballroom.
"Do you want me to go check in the bathroom for her?"
It's a little adorable how Brandit jolts with alarm at the mere suggestion; sort of as if he wouldn't even dream of asking me to do something so unnecessary.
"You don't have to do that," He says seriously, lowering his eyebrows. "I mean, I'd appreciate it, but-"
"Don't worry about it," I smirk, waving a hand. "I need to go anyway. I've felt flushed since I was up on stage. Wait right here?"
Brandit smiles, relieved. "Sure."
For someone being as berated as he is by his Sector team, it's nice to see that he still has the heart to care about the girl who is the reason he's being treated so badly for. I'm sure if I offered to let her into the team he'd jump at the suggestion- but sadly, I don't have as much heart as he does.
Faye-Anna would be a weight keeping me from leaving the arena, I'm sure.
Approaching the bathroom door, the smell of vomit is barely masked by the heavy scent of air fresheners. Of all the wonders of the Capitol, we still can't manage to keep our bathrooms smelling clean. I'm sort of missing the toilet back home, which always smelled of lavender.
There's a 'cleaning' sign on the door, but I ignore it like anyone else would. I have to squint a little to see inside the dimly lit ladies room, but once I do- I almost wish I couldn't see.
It's amazing how so many women fail to remember that you're meant to take the vomiting agent while you're already in the cubicle. What's the point in taking it and then running to the bathroom? You'll never make it, as evidenced by the large vomit puddles splattered by the sinks.
Gross.
"-I don't know if I can really..."
Voices. I swiftly turn my head to one of the closed cubicles, startled.
"Oh come on, do it as a favour to me and Diego. He'd really appreciate it."
My teeth clench together tightly. And not just any voice.
Marshall.
"Why would Diego want me to?" The female voice answers quietly, plainly unsure of whatever the brat is asking her to do. God please be something illegal so I can rat him out. "I don't understand."
There's a snort and the sound of laughter. "Okay, I lied. Just for me. But come on, out of all the girls here you've got to be the only one who can. Please?"
"But, Ari Saint-Claire would be a better choice..."
"No, not her. It can't be her; it has to be someone unknown. Please Kori; you've got to do it."
Kori-? Ah. Koriana Wilder from Sector 8, partner of Diego "D". I haven't paid any attention to her.
"Well... if you're sure it's going to help... I'll do it..."
There's a loud whooping sound, and I push my way into the cubicle next to theirs as the lock begins to rattle and Marshall steps out into the open, just as I lock mine up tight. I sit down on the closed seat, waiting to hear an exposition- but all I get is a 'thanks a million Kori', I'll pay you back for this.' And then the bathroom door closing after the two of them.
...okay.
I'm officially lost.
What the hell is Marshall Matthews up to?
Cotton Valamine Ferier; 15 years; the Capitol Sector 11.
"Ugh... I'm sick of this night..." I grumble into Vinel's jacket sleeve. "I mean... this party sucks- it's not even any fun."
Vinel shakes a little as he laughs, but I don't let go of his arm. To be completely truthful, I've had enough of this party. I usually love parties- they're my favourite thing in the world- but when they're just filled with snooty rich people and not pop dance music and... you know, fun- they're not enjoyable at all!
I'm glad I have Vinel though, to keep me sane through all this. I still can't get over how much I've grown to like him in the past few days. It just doesn't seem real.
"Why are you in such a bad mood Cotton-ball?" Vinel asks teasingly, resting his hand atop my head and stroking my hair with his fingers. "Party not good enough for you?"
A pleasurable shiver rolls down my spine because of his fingers brushing my hair, but I don't let it show. "No, it's boring."
Tutting disapprovingly, Vinel wraps an arm around my shoulder and pushes me deeper into his side. The unfamiliar smell of him wafts over me like a blanket, and I can't help but close my eyes and drink it in.
Yes, I barely know this boy. But already I feel so comfortable beside him; I can't help but wonder why such strong feelings are overcoming me now. I had plenty of chances to fall in love before these Games- and yet only Vinel has made my heart race with just his scent.
"Is there something you'd like to do?" He asks, suddenly quiet. Perhaps there are people hovering nearby. "Something to drink or eat?"
My eyes still closed, I yawn into the fabric of his sleeve. "No... I've had plenty to eat... too much to drink..."
There's a soft silence as I feel the soreness in my body from all our dancing finally begin to slowly ebb away. Though there's not complete silence, since this is a party after all, and there's no way everyone will be quiet, it's still pleasantly quiet for a moment.
I've never really liked quiet, honestly. When you live in a house with three other sisters, two brothers and a load of pets- it's hard to. But my head has been filled with thoughts I can't pin down these days, and I'm too exhausted at the end of the day to lie away and think.
Here, resting on Vinel's arm is the closest thing I have to a sanctuary right now.
The Games are getting so close now. There'll be no time for dancing and cuddling up to Vinel once I step off that plate. I'll have a weapon on me at all times- something I've never had before. Sure, Vinel will be near me- I don't like the idea of leaving his side during these Games to be honest- but he won't be able to comfort me like this. Not with Natalia and all that around.
She's going to be trouble. I can just tell. She and all the other girls are. That Koriana girl from Sector 8 who lied about her Sector partner, that 'Ari Saint-Claire' thinking she's all high and mighty- and I'm sure the others are going to be a problem too.
Sometimes I forget there are twelve other girls. Besides from those three, it's hard to remember them. I know there's a girl my age in Sector 3- but she looks like an idiot. Then there are those two cheerleaders from 7 and 9- but they look like bloodbaths to me.
Who does that leave? The little winged girl, and that anorexic girl from 6... oh, and the girl who blew up her hands before we entered, that's right... and Vinel's partner...
My face wrinkles up in annoyance as I remember. 'Minerva'.
At first she didn't seem to bother me. I mean, there was nothing between her and Vinel except that they lived in the same area, right? They certainly didn't seem to be friends or anything... but then he suggested her to Natalia on the second day of training...
...it's not that I'm jealous... or worried or anything like that. Only she is... she's pretty... and hearing him want her in the group- for whatever stupid reason he said on the day- it just made my heart sink.
"...Vinel?"
With a bemused smile, Vinel looks down at me as I continue to clutch onto his arm. Too embarrassed to look him in the eye as I ask this, I drop my eyes to my shoes as we sit against the wall.
Vinel nudges me softly with his elbow. "What is it? What were you going to ask me?"
"I... I want to know..." Slowly, I raise my eyes up to his. "...what do you... what do you honestly think of me?"
Surprised, Vinel pulls his arm out of my grasp and immediately wraps it around my shoulder instead, pulling me closer into his side and deeper into his warmth.
"That's a bit random... but alright," Vinel takes one final look at me before turning his gaze upwards. "...you're a bit crazy, in that way some girls are, really surprising... random... and I think you're also a bit cooped up in your head."
I stare at him, feeling a little disillusioned. Wasn't this meant to be a romantic moment? He catches my look and grins a little, squeezing my shoulder with his arm gently.
"You didn't let me finish," He whispers teasingly, winking. "Well... I've known you for about four days now, five if you count the chariots... but... even though it's only been such a short time... I can safely say that out of all the girls I've ever met- you've left the biggest imprint on me."
Slowly, I pull away from him to get a better look at his face. "Do you really mean that?"
Snickering a little, Vinel nods and closes his eyes. I watch him quietly for a few moments as he grins to himself- and slowly leans his head against the wall behind.
"I've had a lot of girls like me... a lot... but I didn't give a passing care about any of them..." His grin melts into a happy smile. "...because I was waiting for that girl who I'd fall for in just one look."
Heart pounding, I look down at my knees, embarrassed. "...and... am I that girl?"
There's the pause. I almost hold my breath expectantly as he opens his eyes again and looks back at me. I can feel my hands tingling and his arm grows warmer around my shoulder as Vinel suddenly smirks.
"You were half naked. Of course you were."
My teeth lock together as my shoulders rise up. "You jerk, Pinkie-!"
Roaring with laughter, Vinel leans backwards as I begin to hit his arm rapidly with my little balled fists. He holds me back by my shoulders- but that doesn't stop me from beating him as much as I can.
"Whoah- easy girl, easy- it was a joke Cotton-ball, it was a joke-!"
"We were having a serious moment and you wrecked it~!"
Eyes sparkling with delight, Vinel continues to pull backwards as I harmlessly pound into him. "I could fix if you'd like~?"
"You can't fix it now you doof-!" I cry, half laughing- half angry. "I hate you, you're a complete-"
Suddenly I'm forced forwards, and with his hands controlling my fall- Vinel locks his mouth against mine and closes his eyes.
-!
Slowly, the rest of the ballroom melts away, and I also close my eyes.
...
...Sanctuary...
Capitol Question #011; which character would you dance with formally were you to choose?