Ten – The Roof
The Training Center – Division One (4.1)
Martinus shows us to our rooms, still going on about our first impressions.
"Oh, I'm going to tell everyone how you came from such a terrible district only to shine at the Capitol!" rejoices Martinus. "So magnificent."
It's clear he's not intending to help us before we get thrown in the arena. He just craves the attention for himself and our districts, but at the same time he will inadvertently help our reputation. I guess I have make do with that.
But we do need help. Yes, maybe the onus to help us directly is on Beetee and Jovan, but the least he can do is give us tips since he's an expert at certain things knowing we aren't. Maybe I'm wrong. What is even the point of arguing? I either come out of this dead or becoming one with the Capitol. I just want not only Martinus, but all the Capitol public, to understand what the people in our districts are really going through. They've been raised in an environment that praises bloodlust and is entertained by stories of rags to "riches", but I want that gone, and I hope the lack of support will cause the Hunger Games to cease. But it's an impossible ask.
Radia and I move in our respective quarters to relax, and they are massive. Grander than our rooms in the train. The plush rooms probably cover the lower-floor area of eight or nine rowhouses back in District 3. The number of buttons around the place makes me afraid of knocking one accidentally. I'm a bit hesitant to try them all out. How many things could really be caused by the press of a button?
I have the same question when both the shower and the weirdly shaped commode have their own panels of buttons. The options in the spacious shower allows me to regulate water pressure and pressure, choose between various scented and specialised soaps, shampoos, even oils, sponges, and some products called conditioners. I compare back home, where we could just get by with water, shampoo, and soap.
But I couldn't wait to try it out. I carefully remove my outfit and my watch, discover that toilet paper isn't an option and how shockingly violating a bidet is, and step into the shower to set my ideal pressure and temperature. The running water feels so good after being stuck in a costume and sweating from all the energy I had used up at the parade. I figure eucalyptus is kind of my thing now, so they become the scents of my soap, shampoo, oil, and conditioner. I had brought a towel earlier, but when I step out onto a mat, my whole body gets blow-dried, so I wonder what is even the point of having a towel? The conditioner already untangled my hair, but when I place my hand on this box, some sort of current is sent to my hair, untangling as well as drying it all. This feels crazy. Did Electronics or Research come up with these ideas? It's awful that the Capitol gets to try it all first. It also feels wrong to live like this while others suffer, but I remember I'm only here for a while. It's no different to temporarily moving into a better house.
The gimmicks don't stop at the bathroom. I'm able to program the closet for an outfit to my taste. I decide on a simple brown t-shirt and dark cargo pants before I play with the windows. I could zoom in and out on certain parts of the city, leave it dark, or change the display, which I do so to a nice open meadow. There is also this mouthpiece in which I can announce a food from this enormous, funky menu, and it appears before me so rapidly. I am feeling a bit hungry so I ask for my favourite, a fried chicken wing. Delicious. I start to ask for another but fortunately Martinus interrupts me by knocking on the door to call me for dinner.
I enter the dining room with Martinus to already see Radia, our mentors and stylists, and from the looks of it, Tatiana and Tiberius have just arrived to join us. They mingle for a while with our mentors, and Radia offers me to hang out on the balcony before we settle down.
We aren't that high, but the view overlooking the Capitol is still spectacular. Clearly visible neon lights scattered around the sleepless city. People down below without a care of a curfew. It baffles me how a city so dense like the urbanised streets of District 3 could be so different.
We are only out for less than a minute right as we start discussing the bidet before they call us back in. At least I have more than three days to return and admire the view and fresh air. The silent Capitol attendants like the ones on the train are also present and they serve us my favourite meal yet. Thin steak slices smothered in a rich mushroom gravy. Next course is a type of pasta. I have never had pasta before but these tasty squares with a filling I can't make out win me over. The bites of both dishes are small and light, so it's harder to feel full.
I also get offered wine by an attendant. I don't get the appeal of alcohol, based on my run-ins with drunks at the Revolt and that doomed park. My whole family is also alcohol free. But I'm not one to decline, and I try a sip of the tart, purple liquid and can't really get into the taste. That's half of the reason I give my glass to Jovan and switch to water, the other reason being that I'm afraid I might drink too much and lose my sobriety. Of course Radia is happy to try the new beverage, and by her reaction she doesn't really like it too. Unlike me, though, she continues to have sips of the thing. Her speech remains normal but I'm a bit afraid it will change.
During the meal, Tiberius and Tatiana deservedly receive more praise from the table for their work at the opening ceremonies. I ask if they need the costumes back, but Tatiana replies that we can keep them. Beetee and Jovan also tell Radia and I to keep up the acts for the tribute interviews that will be conducted in few days because they're working effectively. I want to mention that I'll need more coaching on that but there's time to improve. Beetee and Jovan tell me they'll be switching the teaching focus about our own skills and how we'll behave around the other tributes.
The conversation shifts to our interview costumes while our glasses and plates get constantly refilled by the servers. They light up a cake they set on the table.
"Oh, I ordered this cake as a treat for us." says Jovan. "It's a fun one."
There must be alcohol present as the dessert is set ablaze. This brings wows from Radia and I.
She smiles at me and I think she would comment more about the cake. "I don't feel well." She says instead, before turning back to the cake grinning. "I'm fine, though."
I think the alcohol is starting to speak to her.
From the talk, I catch that I will be wearing a bright, sparkly suit, and that the only debate is in regards to the colour. They discuss whether I should be matched to Radia's yellow or if I should wear another hue. I start to imagine myself in a suit of different colours. I like red but it wouldn't be appropriate with my personality. I also lovee green but I don't look that good in it for some reason. Yellow or blue will be fine. So will pink, as long as it isn't bright. I have never worn a suit before but anybody who does looks attractive to me tenfold. In a few days, I will be the most handsome I've ever been.
But that will still be in a while. For now, we watch the live broadcast of the replay of the tribute parade. After dinner, the seven of us take our seats on a number of plush couches in a nearby sitting room. Tiberius sits a little close to me for some reason. I don't think much of it but a stylist-and-tribute moment since Tatiana sits alongside Radia too. We view District 1 ride out, then 2, then us, lights brilliantly flashing. We join in the "Ah!" from the crowd.
"I'm going to keep watching that moment over and over again." squeals Tatiana.
"We know how great we did." says Tiberius. " But what do we think of the other tributes? Any competition?"
"I think District 1 was amazing." Radia says with a droopy-eyed smile.
"We aren't allowed to say that here." jokes Jovan.
"Oh, you're right." corrects Radia. "We were by far the best!"
We nod in approval as the districts move by: 4, 5, 6, then 7.
"We ran into the kids from District 7 earlier." says Radia.
"She's right!" pipes Martinus. "I was able to talk to Fern about what a splash we made!"
"Were they friendly?" asks Beetee.
"The girl was." I answer.
Beetee and Jovan look at each other as if discussing a plan in their head. "That's nice of her." is all Jovan says.
We continue. Jovan makes comments about how the confidence of the boy from 9 is through the roof. Tatiana almost cries at the boy and girl from 10 proudly holding their hands. None of us speak when the pair from 12 came on. Not even Martinus, who I was sure was going to make a comment saying the tributes looked hideous.
"Oh, that's embarrassing." I say, when they cut back to me dancing.
"You've got groove." Tiberius tells me.
"Oh, that's even more embarrassing." I say when they show me failing to catch a rose and stumbling because of it. Radia grabs my hands and Tatiana squeals.
"Why is hand-holding a big deal?" Radia asks.
"It isn't a normal thing." answers Beetee. "Nobody gets close to someone they're about to fight in the arena. The audience love it when they show that they're friends."
Because it's more entertaining to them when a person close to them dies, I think.
"Well it happened twice here." Jovan says, as we watch the rest of the parade and President Snow's speech.
The broadcast stops and after a while, the stylists find themselves out with a few goodbyes.
Jovan and Beetee then turn to us. "So we're planning of giving the two of you advice for training tomorrow morning." Beetee says. "For now, we're giving you a choice of what to do because you deserve it."
"We can chat a bit and then sleep early so you can get some hard-earned rest from today." Jovan offers.
"Or we can have a movie night where we watch a previous Hunger Games where you can prepare for the time of situations you'll get in the arena." says Beetee.
"Or we can have a nice, long chat on the roof." Jovan says. "Just the four of us."
"I'll be off then!" Martinus says, leaving without saying another word.
"The roof of the Training Center?" Radia questions. "Are we allowed on there?"
"I think so." answers Jovan, but he doesn't sound so sure either.
"Does this mean who get a better view of the Capitol?" Radia asks.
"Does this mean we get to ride the elevator again?" I ask.
"Woah, children!" Jovan cautions. "Settle down. But it's yes to both."
"Then we're in." says Radia on behalf of the both of us. The balcony view on this floor was sensational enough, so I can't wait to see how the rooftop would feel like.
So the four of us return to the elevator. However, there's no button for the roof and the highest floor we could go to is the floor assigned to District 12. They get a better view having the penthouse, at least. Jovan presses the button for 12 before we can wonder where the roof is.
Does this mean we're allowed to visit other tributes? Seems unlikely. The higher we go, the more I doubt that what we're doing is permitted. There's probably cameras everywhere keeping an eye on where each tribute is at every moment. Radia doesn't seem to care, though, trying to take in the feel of the elevator bringing us up.
I peek outside the glass walls and the people and things below us turn smaller than ever and I feel more scared than. We're so high up. The thrill of the elevator becomes more of an anxiousness.
In less than a minute, we step out into the empty corridors of the twelfth floor, having the exact same layout as ours.
"I haven't been here in more than five years." says Jovan. "Now where do we go..."
With his impeccable memory, it's Beetee who leads the three of us along the corridors, but we run into a man around Jovan's age, obviously drunk, staggering in front of us.
I start to panic that we will be reported by this guy for being in a different floor than our designated one. The man, with his head low, notices us before he notices our mentors.
"What are you kids doing here?"
Radia and I were too taken aback to say anything, and that's when Jovan speaks up.
"Haymitch!" he welcomes.
"Chaff?" Haymitch asks.
"No, it's Jovan." Jovan turns to us and quietly mentions, "I don't look like Chaff at all."
"Jovan!" He greets. "Congratulations on the parade, District 5."
"Three." Jovan corrects.
"I don't care." Haymitch slurs. "We bombed again. Awful costumes, no fighters. We need a pair like you two."
He points to Radia and I. "We aren't fighters, though." says Radia.
"Well, it's an absolute upgrade from us." says Haymitch. Poor guy. I hope he hasn't given up on the tributes as a mentor, it seems. "What are you lot doing here, anyway?"
"We're on our way to the roof." explains Beetee. "We hope you don't mind. We won't enter any of the rooms."
"Oh, hey big brain!" greets Haymitch. "Wait, there's a roof? Go on ahead. I'll see you later."
We bid Haymitch some byes as he walks past us, and we're all temporary greeted with wine fumes.
"Is he okay?" I ask.
"He's fine. That's just Haymitch." Jovan says. "Turned to alcohol after he won his Games and Snow- Come on, let's get to the roof."
I look at Haymitch once more. He must be the only mentor for District 12 and that makes it a lot harder for him. I wonder if his state gets worse as District 12 fails to succeed, or if it's his state that causes District 12 to not do that well in the Games. I sure hope it isn't the latter. I feel a little more grateful to Beetee and Jovan thinking of it.
Beetee leads us a few more turns then to a set of stairs leading into a dome-shaped room. We open a door to the outside and a strong breeze rushes against us.
"It's a little windy!" Jovan shouts the obvious a little too loudly. Radia darts immediately to the edge to look over. I follow warily. As expected, the view is even greater than the one on our balcony. The outer borders of the Capitol suburbia can be seen where the twinkling of lights stopped. It's also a lot more frightening, although the barrier is high enough to stop me from accidentally falling off the Training Center in spectacular fashion. Could people imagine a tribute dying before the Games even started?
Even if I did fall off, I'd probably be thrown back onto the roof by the 'invisible' force field the four of us can notice when we peer over the edge. I'm still afraid, though, and it confirms that other than the thrilling view, heights aren't really my thing. I stay away from the edge for the rest of the session.
It's still magical. Just the four of us mentors and tributes, with the lights around us. There are a couple more skyscrapers, they call them, that are taller than the Training Center but I still feel like we're at the top of Panem.
We talk about the view, the force field, the fact that they probably don't have surveillance here because barely anybody goes to the roof, and then the servers wearing tunics back in our dining room.
"Those servants," I begin. "Are they not permitted to talk to anyone?
"The Avoxes can't talk." Beetee says bluntly. "Their tongues have been cut off."
"What?" gasps Radia. "Why?"
"As punishment for committing a crime." explains Jovan, before lowering his volume. "Someone who's betrayed the Capitol. No matter how small it seems their offence was."
I think being a servant to the Capitol for life is punishment enough. Then I realise the purpose is to remove their ability to speak and bad-mouth the Capitol. The Avoxes are probably those who've openly defied against the Capitol and its laws, or else almost every person in the districts would have their tongues cut off.
I feel for them. If I had my own tongue cut off, I wouldn't able to sing at all. That sounds a bit selfish of me. I've seen some people in the Revolt born without the ability to speak orally, and they communicate by a sign language.
"But you're not supposed to worry about them." says Jovan. "You aren't meant to know any of them. You can only talk to them to give an order."
He's right. I can't be worried about what the Capitol does. I can't do anything to change it except get penalised.
Beetee changes the subject. "So we were going to view last years' Hunger Games if we chose to have a movie night, then I realise it must be quite fresh in your minds, right?"
Radia and I agree. I cast my mind back to the projector at home one year ago. Finnick Odair of District 4 was all the hype ever since the opening ceremony to him becoming the victor of the 65th Annual Hunger Games. He didn't partake in the Career alliance, not even with his district partner, since he was already in more powerful Career alliance on his own.
Because of his impeccable charm and insanely shapely body, Finnick was showered with gifts from bundles of food, clothing, medicine, to weapons. This included the beautiful golden trident that even caught my family's eyes. Yet other than the trident, he didn't need all of those supplies. He was skilled enough to swiftly create nets from rope he collected and the leaves from the tropical flora, to catch the tributes and eventually murder them. The arena too, tropical islands bordered with sandy beaches and separated by the clear blue ocean, catered towards his proficiency in swimming. At one point, he drowned the young District 9 boy catching up to him in the water.
Everything was gearing towards him. The tributes eventually gave up hope and either surrendered or didn't even try to escape his traps. As usual, most of the Careers ended up as his last competition, but a couple of well-placed snares and nets proved they were no match for his cleverness and might. After stabbing the girl from District 2 in the neck, he was declared the winner. So it turned out as a boring Games back home, but we were glad to have certainty with the outcome.
"Yes." says Radia. "Finnick demolished everybody else."
"And what happened to the boy and the girl from District 3?" asks Beetee.
"Ah, Java and Cash." Jovan remembers. "Poor kids. I still think Cash's name was misspelled from 'Cache'-"
I ignore Jovan and try to remember how the tributes from our district fared last year. I believe the boy was one of the first eleven killed in the bloodbath, and the girl lasted a little longer. I have trouble remembering her fate before I picture her, obediently tagging along with the main Career alliance. Caught by them, I think she was forced to be part of the alliance in exchange for her life, but all she did was delay the inevitable. When the pack encountered Finnick in his healthy shape and brandished trident, the Careers took off and left Cash behind. Seriously, the six of you couldn't stick together to overpower a fourteen year old boy? The girl met her end at the hands of the eventual victor, and placed ninth.
I recount this to Beetee. I don't know why we would have watched these Games. We aren't skilled fighters from the fishing district. I'm also far from good-looking as Finnick. And our tributes last year didn't even last too long.
"Yes, and what skills did they have?" asks Beetee.
I don't know. They never got to show them because they died so soon. Radia doesn't know either.
"They were both smart." says Jovan. "The girl used this to her advantage to keep herself alive for a little while longer, but just couldn't get out fast enough."
"And you both have an added advantage of being popular." says Beetee. "While Cash had to prove herself useful in the Arena, you can become really approachable, and prove yourself useful to others before so they can keep you."
"This isn't limited to the Career tributes." adds Jovan.
"Wouldn't they try to kill us for being smart and popular instead?" I ask.
Jovan shrugs. "I don't know. You can always hide-"
"But," Beetee interrupts. "We now want you to try this way. I guarantee you the other tributes want brains, and that's you."
I'm not so convinced, but I don't have any other choice right now. I'm listening to my mentors.
"Are we going to watch any other Hunger Games?" asks Radia. "Especially both of yours, so we know what skills helped you win."
"Yes, we've planned for more viewings tomorrow night." answers Jovan. "And we'll also talk more about skills in the morning during breakfast before training."
I check my wrist to see if I have enough time to sleep and be well-rested for tomorrow morning, but the watch is back in my quarters. I left it there to be safe until I go into the arena.
"Kids, do you know how to spell my name?" Jovan asks randomly, like he was finding another topic to talk about. "Every second year someone gets it wrong."
"J-O-V-A-N?" I guess, remembering it being written somewhere. "Is that right?"
"Correct, H!" says Jovan, sounding pleased.
"Hold up, did you say J? I couldn't hear because of the wind." Radia turns to Jovan. "Your name starts with a J?"
Jovan nods.
"Not a Y?"
"Oh no, that would look really weird."
Radia pulls a face. "Are you pranking me?"
"No!" Jovan says, smiling. "I'm not!"
I chuckle. "I guess this is a second year." I remark.
"This is funny." Beetee says, without changing his face.
That alone was enough to the three of us to crack up laughing.
"You're funny." Radia says, in between laughter. I forgot that she is slightly drunk.
"And you're dumb for not spelling my name right!" counters Jovan.
I unattractively snort, which makes our laughter a lot louder than the wind, and cracks a smile out of
Beetee.
It's crazy to think that two days ago I haven't known any of these people. Now here I am, laughing on a roof with them. This must be what Radia means about taking every opportunity and living well before you die. I could have chosen not to have made friends with these people. I'm glad I have.
Our laughter subsides. Radia starts talking to Beetee about complex electronic terms and concepts that I barely can follow.
"Come on, H." says Jovan. "Let's go check out the garden."
Great. I need to ask him about how to look good for the interview, anyway.
Jovan leads me to the other side of the dome where they have an array of flower beds and small potted trees. My mother would love to have a garden back home, but with our lack of yard space, it's impossible. I understand the appeal now. The flowers beautifully bloom even in the night. I would prefer fruit and vegetable plants since they produce something more useful than an eye-pleasing flower.
It's a little louder in the garden, as the wind activates the metallic tinkling of wind chimes hanging up in the branches of the taller trees.
Jovan picks up a blossom and hands it to me. "For you, my boy."
I play along and sniff the petals. It anticlimactically smells like nothing. "Thank you." I say. "It's gorgeous."
"Oh, that reminds me." Jovan takes out the butter caramel candy I gave him before the opening ceremonies. "It was in my pocket the whole time."
I forgot about the candy, again. Before I forget it any further and I lose my chance to taste it, I unwrap the cellophane and pop it into my mouth.
I thought it was going to be sweet, but it's perfectly balanced between salty, buttery, and sweet. It's so good. It's probably my favourite flavour. The taste, along with the prettiness of the garden and the grandness of the view, feels weirdly amazing, like I have just accomplished a major part of my life.
"Taste good?" Jovan asks, most probably seeing the pleasure on my face.
"Uh huh."
"Do you want to see how the force field works?" offers Jovan. "Hand me the wrapper."
I give Jovan the cellophane and we walk over to the edge, looking over. I feel a bit queasy again being so close.
"Watch." Jovan drops the cellophane over the edge and all I could think about is littering, but then there is a quick electric zap sound and the cellophane disappears into a puff of smoke.
I was horrified. "If we fall off, do we disintegrate?"
"No, no, you just get thrown back onto the roof." Jovan says, concerned. "That wasn't meant to happen. Anyway, the garden looks beautiful, doesn't it?"
"I want one of the flower beds to bring back home." I say, slowly moving away from the roof. "Listen Jovan, I had the music to help me be happy in front of the audience and pander to them. Martinus says I'm still not good enough-"
"Nonsense." Jovan cuts in. "Marty's irrelevant. You're perfect."
"With the music." I continue. "But I'm scared I won't look good when the interviews come in, because there's no music. No Radia. And I can't public speak."
"Now that I think of it, you did look a little awkward in the chariot, but it's still massively likeable. You don't have to be bubbly like Radia or confident like the other tributes to be loved." Jovan tells me. "And don't worry about the interviews yet. We will have plenty of time to prepare for them. We have to focus on training sooner."
"Sorry, I'm just worried." I reply. If only it was easy to relax about the interviews. Training also makes me anxious. Then I remember on the train, where Jovan seemed very closed off much about himself. Maybe he can open up a bit more now while we're private.
"Hey, Jovan. You said you became a lot more conversational than you were because you spent time with the Capitol. Can you give me tips on what the Capitol seems to want?"
Jovan's face shrinks. "They want entertainment. So exaggerations, weird acts. They also want blood, and power."
He sounds like he despises the Capitol and I don't blame him. Yet he had said that being with the Capitol was his way of coping with the gruesome things he witnessed in the arena, but how can he behave like the Capitol if he hates them?
"Why do you not like Martinus if he is a person from the Capitol?" I ask. "I thought you liked talking with people from the Capitol."
Jovan shakes his head. "You're asking too many questions right now. Not now. Let's go."
"You're supposed to help me." I plead before he leaves.
"And how is asking about me helping you?" Jovan asks exasperatedly.
"I want to know more about you." I admit seriously, although I don't sound so serious with the butter caramel candy in my mouth. "I feel it will help you too."
"No, I can't." he says, voice cracking, as he turns away. "I can't be too close." Close to who?
He looks around, to the sky, the floor, the garden, then back to me. "Look here, H. I never asked to do this job as a mentor. For surviving, I'm stuck here. It's not that I don't want to coach boys and girls like you. In fact, I actually do, because I want all of you to live, but to lose so many people after helping them is the worst feeling ever. Beetee's okay because he's got a tough brain. But not me. I hate the Capitol for that."
"I'm sorry." It still doesn't explain why he behaves like the Capitol people, but right now, I don't want to know, and I shouldn't know. He's had it tough as a victor and that's all I need to know.
"No, I'm sorry." he says. "I shouldn't told you off like that."
"No, you were calm and I deserve it." I say. "I shouldn't have pried into you like that. I just hope you're not wishing to be dead rather than alive."
"No, no, no." He denies. "It could be a lot worse. It's very rewarding, knowing I've helped the kids as much as I can."
"You're doing an amazing job." I say.
The corners of his mouth turn up. "I know it's only been a few days but if I lose both you and Radia, it will hurt the most."
I hug him. He speaks as we stay embraced.
"Because we're somewhere where there don't seem to be any cameras, or microphones that can catch our voices in this wind, and because I trust you so much, I feel comfortable telling you this."
"Telling me what?" I ask.
"Why I talk and act like the Capitol people." answers Jovan.
"It's not because it helps you cope?"
Jovan shakes his head. "I wasn't telling you the truth on the train. I was forced to stay in the Capitol and socialise because they thought I was too boring. That I offered nothing. Do it until I become as fun as them. I wasn't smart or privileged enough like Beetee for them to leave me alone. They threatened to kill my family if I didn't do what they wanted. So I did it. It was hard. I fucking hate the Capitol. Pardon the language."
I have so many things running through my mind I don't know what to say. The pure brutality of the Capitol. The suffering Jovan had to go through outside of his own will. The fact they bring family into the issue.
"That's fucked. I'm so sorry." is all I can say.
So the Capitol even punishes the victors after they win for not fulfilling what they want. I always thought the victors get to live in peace with their lifetime supply of gifts, undertaking their own talent, but they still get controlled by the Capitol. I'm sure with all the love for Finnick, they must have compelled him to do some horrible thing that is a lot more than meeting with the Capitol citizens. And if I win, what will they want me to do? Wear lights all the time? Sing for President Snow? It's horrible. I can't believe Jovan had to go through it.
I hug him even tighter.
"Not so hard. You're going to push all the air out of me!" he warns. I let go. "I haven't told anybody about this before. Not another tribute."
"Not even Beetee?"
Jovan shakes his head. "Even though I could, actually. But I can't have this getting out there."
If anybody does find out about what the Capitol has ordered him to do and his thoughts on it, he might become one of those Avoxes or even get killed. Once they find out their beloved winners is a traitor, they wouldn't care what happens to him.
"I won't tell a soul. I promise." I say. "Does it feel better telling someone, though?"
"Yes it does, actually. Thank you for hearing me out." Jovan says. "We have to get going, though. It's getting late and you and Radia are still children who need sleep."
We start to make our way back but Beetee and Radia find us first. After they share their topic conversation and we lie about ours, we wish each other a good night and Beetee and Jovan promptly send us to our quarters.
I find my father's watch on the dresser where I left it and only now notice the time is incorrect. I move it an hour forward to match the time display here.
I don't bother removing or changing my outfit. I get ready for bed, changing my window to the dark setting and looking forward to a good sleep before training tomorrow. I'm honestly nervous about it. It's three consecutive days of all the tributes working on the skills they think will benefit them the most, both in the Arena and for the private interview sessions on the final day. There, I will have to impress the gamemakers with a chosen skill in order to get as high as I can. And the higher I score, the more sponsors that come my way. Still, I have no idea what I'll be able to present. It's not like I can sing to the gamemakers. I will have to wait for Beetee and Jovan's advice tomorrow to be prepared for it. It will also be the first time I'll be face to face with all the tributes and that I can interact with them. Seeing other tributes intimidate us with their skill and knowing that twenty-three of those children in a room will be dead in a few days makes me shiver anxiously in bed.
My mind flicks to the conversation with Jovan, about him opening up about the Capitol, and then to my family as always. I invariably find myself missing them. I wonder what they thought of my flashy entrance to the Games. Did I give them more hope, or are they still horrified?
It's almost been two days without being with them. At this time, they'd be falling asleep like I am now, at least I hope they are. I imagine my king-sized bed shrunk down to the single-sized one at home, my mother next to me, Denary on another bed on my left, and Algo in his cot in front of me. I hope they're sleeping well and not worrying too much about me, who is about to drift off to sleep.