A/N: Trigger warning for this chapter.
Chapter 27:
Night Before
Lobo Mirazul, 15, District Nine
"How dare he say that on live TV!" Lobo yells in frustration as he paces the room. He digs his fingers into his palm, searching for the bite of pain from it, but it's not enough. His hand goes to his pocket, where the damn flower Karter gave him is sitting, touching the stem and feeling the thorns on it. He can't believe all of this…and he doesn't know if his response was enough.
"I wouldn't sweat it, kid," Fonio says calmly and Lobo whips his head around to glare at him, yet he just laughs. "I've had my fair share of rumors with tributes over the years and this is nothing. And with that dumbass Capitolite's threesome declaration, I bet they've all forgotten about Karter giving you a flower."
Lobo closes his fist around the flower, crushing it and feeling the sting of the thorns digging into his palm. If only it was that simple. "My father won't forget about it," he says coldly and he turns away from him, unable to meet his gaze. Not at the pain coming through at always trying to please his father and it never being enough. "I can picture exactly what he was screaming at the screen when that happened and it isn't pretty."
Fonio scoffs in disbelief at that and Lobo glares at him over his shoulder. "Is that man living in the fucking Dark Days? Sorry, I can't imagine how someone these days could have a problem with you liking boys."
"I don't like boys!" Lobo yells at him immediately, turning back towards him and balling his fists at his side. The flower is still in his hand, getting crushed as blood starts to pour over it. "I don't," he insists, but his voice is weak and lacking in conviction at that as his mind replays the hurt in Karter's eyes after his interview when he so blatantly said he didn't like boys. Oh, how far from the truth that is… No. He shouldn't be worried about how Karter is feeling right now, he should be worrying about how he's going to get back home and prove to his father that he's the son he always wanted him to be! "I don't like boys and I'm going to be strong and win these Games and be the man my father wants me to be!"
Yet his voice cracks just saying that. Can he really do that at this point? At every turn, he's tried to push Karter away to not have any stupid feelings develop, yet he stayed by his side. He saw the hurt boy inside of Lobo…yet he hurt him and pushed him away in front of everyone. He resumes his pacing across the room, so angry at himself. He shouldn't care so much what his father thinks of him, not here in the Capitol where he can't hurt him. Yet he still is doing everything to try and impress him, be the person he never should have become…when instead he could be the boy he always was who gentle and kind.
Someone who would never have hurt Karter like that so publicly.
"Can I give you some advice?" Fonio says quietly after a few minutes of silence and Lobo slows his angry pacing to look at him. At Lobo's silence, he continues with a heavy sigh. "Don't go into that arena trying to deny part of yourself. I've seen too many tributes try to do that over the years and it just bites them in the ass. And then they die having regrets about not opening up." Fonio winces at that and puts his head down. "Or you win and have years of regrets over what you did or didn't say."
"I've been trying to make my father proud by being tough for so many years," Lobo answers quietly, stopping his pacing to sit down in a chair. He slumps over, wrapping his arms around himself and digging his fingers into his sides, trying to keep himself grounded. "I don't even know who I am even more, just the person he's made me be."
"Well kid," Fonio starts and Lobo glares over at him calling him kid. "Oh stop that, you're young enough to be my grandchild. Look, this is your first and possibly last time being away from any influence from your father. You can be whoever you want to be. Do you have any idea who that person might be?"
Lobo sighs and puts his head down. "Yeah," he answers quietly, hating the weakness in his voice for a moment before turning that hatred towards his father. His father turned him into this person, someone who can't show any emotions other than angry and being the toughest… "But the boy I used to be is long dead."
"You wouldn't be able to go back to that person anyways, not with who you are currently," Fonio shrugs at him and Lobo picks up his head to look at him. "But you can become someone who uses the pain you're feeling now and uses it to be a better person."
"What does it even matter?" Lobo asks, turning away to scowl at himself. He's not a good person. If he was, he never would have pushed away Tobias at home and now Karter. "He's not going to forgive me for what I did so I should just accept that I'll be going into that arena on my own. And I need to be strong to beat the others."
Fonio gives him a long look. "Has he directly said 'I don't forgive you'?" he asks and Lobo cringes, knowing where he's going with this. "That's what I thought. You need to go talk to him… And be honest. Like I said, don't go into that arena with any regrets. So I have to ask…would you regret not being open to Karter and letting him go without telling the truth?"
"Shut up!" Lobo says, raising his voice and balling his fists. God, why does he have to see through him like this?! He stands up and turns away from his mentor, taking a few deep breaths to try and calm the rage in him. But it's so hard to fight it off after years of being conditioned to act this way.
He really is the monster his father made him become. No. Fonio is right…he can try to do things differently now… But it just might be too late for Karter.
"I have to go," he mumbles as he starts towards the elevator.
"Are you going to be alright?" Fonio calls after him and Lobo glances back to see him slowly getting out of his seat.
"Yeah Gramps, I'm fine," Lobo says, rolling his eyes at the nickname. Damn it, he's been around Mord too much.
Speaking of, the escort steps out of Lelantos's room and poses, giving Lobo two finger guns. "Yo, you good little dude?"
"Don't call me that!" Lobo snaps, picking up his pace to get away from his dumb escort. "I'm fine and going to talk to my ally. Go talk to Inutil if you want to feel like you're doing something."
Lobo turns away before Mord can say anything else, catching a flash of hurt on his face that he pushes away in his mind. What does it matter what he thinks? He's not the one who's gone through the hell Lobo has.
He smashes his fist on the button for the elevator, repeating the motion as he waits for it to get to his floor. He tries not to think about what he's about to do or else the panic will settle in. What is he even going to say to Karter to make up for humiliating him on live television? He shakes his head and tries to take a deep breath as the doors open and he steps in. But he doesn't press the button yet and the doors shut, leaving him in isolating silence. He could just stay on his floor and not say anything… There's no going back from this and he has no idea what will be left of him to piece back together if he tells Karter the truth.
He's about to press the button to open the doors again when he remembers the hurt in Karter's eyes and his finger moves to the button for the seventh floor. His heart beats faster as the elevator starts moving down and he knows there's no going back now. But…Fonio is right. He needs to tell Karter his truth before they're in that arena because if something happens to him without making things right…
Just the thought hurts his heart and he hates that it does, and that he's been conditioned to hate having feelings.
The doors open and he steps out hesitantly, unsure what to even do. Should he just call out for Karter or go try to find his room? Or just wait here and hope someone will walk by?
"Hello?" Cal calls out before he has much time to think about it. The mentor steps out from the kitchen, holding a container of ice cream and licking a spoon. When he sees Lobo there, his eyebrows raise in surprise and he blinks a few times. "Oh. Lobo, hi…"
Lobo holds back a wince at his not so warm greeting, knowing it's all his fault. He hurt Karter tonight. "I was hoping I could talk to Karter…"
He trails off as the boy in question steps up from behind Cal, holding his own container of ice cream. He takes a big spoonful as he stares at Lobo with red eyes that light up a bit at the sight of him before turning to pain. "Are you here to tell me our alliance is formally done?"
"No," Lobo answers quickly and hates the hope that Karter gets right away at that. "I just want to…" he sighs and runs a hand through his hair, struggling to figure out where to even start with this. "I have things to say about my past. Can we…talk alone?"
Cal gives him a sad smile. "I'll go see what Glen is up to," he says, taking a bite of ice cream and sharing a look with Karter, until the tribute nods his head. "Just give a holler if you need me." He gives Lobo a look at that, no doubt thinking the reason Karter would need Cal is because of him. And he's right.
Karter watches Cal head off towards their rooms before sighing and letting his shoulders hunch over. He turns back to Lobo and points at him with his spoon. "Why do I feel like this is a conversation we need to have over ice cream?"
"Probably," Lobo shrugs as Karter gestures for him to follow him to the kitchen. He sits down at the counter awkwardly, watching Karter go into the freezer and grab one of many ice cream cartons for him. "We've been fully stocked on ice cream since…" he trails off, shaking his head with a frown before sliding the ice cream and a spoon over to Lobo. "Well, dig in."
Lobo just stares at the untouched ice cream in front of him for a moment, trying to figure out what to even say to him. He's…never really opened up to anyone about this and he's scared of getting pushed away for it, or hurt for telling the truth… "I'm sorry for what I said," he finally says quietly, ashamed to meet Karter's gaze. He silently reaches into his pocket and pulls out the crushed flower, looking at it for a moment before setting it on the counter between them as he looks at Karter. "All I could think about in that moment was what my father was thinking about me and I…I had to do something that he'd approve of. But it's not how I really felt."
"I'll admit, it really fucking hurt and kind of validated my beliefs of refusing to get close to people lately. But…" Karter says, licking his spoon before using it to point at Lobo, a frown on his face. "I understand."
"No, you don't," Lobo says, a bit harsher than he meant and he winces when Karter flinches a little at his volume. "You don't," he repeats, much softer this time.
Karter watches him for a few seconds and Lobo turns away, reminded too much of how Tobias always seemed to see the truth in him, no matter how tough he tried to act. "Then help me understand."
"It's not a pretty story," Lobo says, reaching up to touch the scar in his eyebrow before looking over at Karter. Surely he'll push Lobo away after he learns how fucked up he is…can he really take that? "I'm fucked up, Karter, and don't want you seeing that."
"Oh so am I," Karter answers with no hesitation as he rubs at his arms. Lobo glances down and notices the scars he's rubbing, causing Karter to shrug casually. But Lobo can see the hurt in his eyes. "Seeing someone get shot next to you…" he shakes his head at that. "But my life has been fucked up long before then. It's been years since I was in school, forced to drop out to work at our pawn shop and help care for my mother when she got sick. So…" he gives Lobo a forced smile at that. "Believe me, I get it."
Lobo points at the scar through his eyebrow, needing Karter to understand just how deep it goes for him. "This is from when my father first saw me kissing a boy," he says, avoiding Karter's gaze. Instead, he starts pulling up his sleeves, showing bruises faded to yellow and other scars. "I said they were from training, but they started a lot earlier than that. So many beatings, nights spent sleeping out in the rain, working until my hands bled and then working some more. All from years of my father getting me to toughen up, to be more of a man." He scoffs at that suggestion and shakes his head, clenching his fists on the counter and digging his nails into his palms, desperate to not get mad just talking about it all. "Whatever the fuck that means. He made me into…into this. Conditioned to react with anger first, not sympathy. To not be weak."
He falls quiet, taking a few shaking breaths as he tries not to let himself be the person his father trained him to be. When Karter stays quiet, he keeps talking, needing to fill the quiet. "And still, despite it all…" he slowly looks up at Karter, eyes watering from the years of pain from his father. "I keep wanting to make him proud of me. And I hate myself for it, yet I can't stop." He slams his fist down on the counter, making the spoons clatter and Karter jumps a little. "What's so fucking wrong with me that I want to make the person who hurts me over and over for being who I am proud of me?!"
"Because there's always going to be a part of you that wants your parent to be proud of you. But he doesn't deserve you," Karter says quietly, reaching over and taking one of his balled fists. He pries open Lobo's fingers and rubs his palm, before holding his hand to keep him from just closing it again. Lobo just stares at their hands, not moving it for a moment in shock, before slowly curling his fingers to hold his hand back. He tenses up, just waiting for some sort of yelling at him for it…but it never comes. For once in his life…he can almost start to feel safe enough to actually show feelings towards a boy… "Trust me, Lobo, going through that does not make you weak." Karter pauses and doesn't continue until Lobo turns to meet his gaze. "You are not weak. You've survived a life of hell to get here."
Lobo turns away, full of shame. He didn't survive, he fully gave into what his father wanted him to be and did awful things. He pulls his hand away from Karter and puts both hands in his lap to resist the urge to grab onto him and not let go. "You'd be better off with someone other than me and shouldn't get close to me," he says, shaking his head before putting it down, hiding his eyes as they start to burn. But he can't look at Karter as he tells him this. "The last time someone did…I hurt him." God, does he regret what he did to Tobias. He wishes things could have gone differently with him but it's too late to change that. Tobias is long gone, as he should be. He deserves someone much better than Lobo. And so does Karter.
"You're right, I shouldn't get close to you," Karter says, surprising Lobo – and hurting him. "I've tried to stop myself from caring about people because it hurts too much to see them in pain and not be able to do anything for them. I'd jump in front of a bullet for those I care about," he winces at that, no doubt thinking about the chariots. "But I think it's too late with you," he continues, slowly reaching over to put his hand on Lobo's shoulder, but he shrugs it off immediately. He can't be getting close to him…but damn it, he wants to. "I don't think you'll hurt me. You're different from that person who hurt him."
Lobo scoffs at that suggestion. "Oh no, I'm not at all," he says, lifting his head to meet Karter's gaze. "You want to know when that happened? A week before the Reaping. I asked him to kiss me and my father saw and I had to hurt him to try not to get hurt myself. But I still got kicked out of my house with the threat of getting killed if I stepped foot in there again."
"And you won't ever have to step foot there again after you win," Karter tells him, sounding so confident about that and Lobo is taken aback by it. He takes his hand again, holding it tightly as he leans closer, making sure Lobo is listening – he can't take his focus off of him. "You're going to live in the Victor's Village away from him and he will never hurt you again."
"But aren't you trying to win?" Lobo asks him quietly and when Karter just gives a small shrug, he feels that anger burning in him. But for once…he doesn't feel it's a bad thing. He wants to hold onto him and not let him just throw it all away. "Damn it, Karter, don't do that!"
"We'll see what happens in that arena," Karter says softly, pain in his eyes as he turns away from him. "Either way, my family will get money for my mother. They'll be fine without me."
"But what about me?" Lobo asks, surprising both of them. He gives Karter a pained look, realizing he cares way too much about him. The boy that got him to open up.
"We both know only one of us is getting out of the arena alive," Karter tells him, turning away from him, but not before Lobo sees his eyes starting to water. "Last year was a fluke. Trust me, I've studied the Games enough to know how this will end for us."
Lobo clenches his free hand into a fist at that, hating everything about it. "It's not fair," he says, voice wavering with anger and…and sadness. "I don't care that we volunteered, it's not fair."
"But what can we do about it now?" Karter asks, turning to meet his gaze again. "Nothing, except fight to be the one lucky enough to get out alive."
But from the look on his face, Lobo knows Karter doesn't mean himself, he means Lobo. "I'll keep fighting with you," Lobo says quietly, putting his head down nervously. "I mean…assuming you still want to be with a fucked up boy like me."
"Of course I do," Karter answers right away with no hesitation, making Lobo look up at him. Karter smiles at him a little bit and squeezes his hand. "If anything, even more now that I know some truth about you so…thanks for sharing. Even if this will inevitably make things even harder down the road."
"I don't want to think about later," Lobo shakes his head, his throat feeling tight just mentioning it. "Right now…I just want to spend some time with you. I mean…assuming you want that too."
"Of course I do," Karter replies, giving him a pained smile that Lobo returns.
He knows it's such a bad idea getting close to him like this, but it's too damn late for him to do anything about it. Not when for once someone finally accepts him, even when knowing all his fucked up parts. "Can I ask you something?"
"Technically you just did," Karter says, his smile turning more genuine. When Lobo gives him a light shove, he starts laughing. "I'm kidding. Of course you can."
Lobo suddenly is nervous about it and isn't sure if he should ask. Not after what happened last time he did this… But he has to ask Karter something now. He's just watching him expectantly. "Can I…" he starts slowly, looking down as his cheeks heat up. "Can I kiss you?"
Karter reaches over and puts a finger under his chin, gently lifting his face up. Lobo's cheeks burn as he meets his gaze, his face so close to his. "Of course you can," Karter answers quietly, yet Lobo is too nervous to move. Not when every time he's kissed a boy before, it ended badly. But seeing his hesitation, Karter leans forward to kiss him gently.
Lobo still can barely react but when Karter pulls back, he reaches over to grab his shirt and pull him back to him, kissing him with a desperation. Desperation to feel close to someone, to not be yelled at for just being himself, to just…be with whoever he wants to be with.
When his eyes start watering, he pulls back and shuts his eyes, not wanting to see Karter's reaction to his tears. "Thank you for accepting me," he whispers, eyes still shut tightly. "And for seeing me – the real me."
Karter leans his forehead against Lobo's and he can feel his breath on his lips, making him cling to him tighter as his tears get worse. How long has he desperately wanted this? "I'm by your side," Karter says and Lobo opens his eyes to look at him, finding matching tears in Karter's eyes. "Against everything saying this is a bad idea…I'm with you."
"I disagree," Lobo shakes his head at that and smiles at him, even as tears fall down his cheeks. "For once, this doesn't feel like a bad idea to me."
And if it is…he doesn't care.
Shams Seif-Eldeen, 18, District Ten
For a bit, it had been easy to forget about what she was in the Capitol for. She let herself get caught up in the glam and wealth, reminding her of the life she used to know before it all came crumbling down with her parents' arrest. She let herself be happy for a time. But now…with the Games looming over her head, making sleep impossible…
How could Shams have ever let herself forget for even a second what she volunteered for?
As she stares up at the ceiling, the hours ticking by, lost in thoughts of what tomorrow brings, she feels that itch in her to forget all about it for a bit. Numb the pain of knowing that people who actually like her might be dead by this time tomorrow. Anything to get even a blink of sleep… Yet part of her hesitates to go get a drink, not wanting to disappoint Fox. If she lets him see this nasty side to herself – a side she tries not to give into but just can't…surely he'll finally realize she's not worth his time.
But what's worse: not sleeping on possibly her last night alive or having one more person in her life that hates her?
She knows the answer and with the time getting closer to 3 AM, she sits up, slowly swinging her feet over the side of her bed. Yet she still hesitates to get up, listening for any sign that anyone on the team will be awake and notice her. None of them have to know about her doing this…she'll just get a bit to drink, just enough to sleep soundly through the night. But what does it matter if they know? Surely they're all just faking their kindness towards her.
Everyone has always faked their kindness towards her and every time, she bends over backwards, still trying to earn their love. After all, that's what got her here: desperately trying to prove to her parents that she can do something. And she isn't going to be able to do that if she cannot sleep tonight.
Clinging to that small bit of resolve, Shams slowly gets to her feet and silently shuffles over to her door. It opens silently and she pokes her head into the hallway, checking for any signs of the others, and when there's nothing, she slips out and walks as quickly as she can past their rooms without making noise. Her feet find their way without much thought to the cabinet full of liquor, having turned down anything to drink every night at dinner to avoid risking exactly what she's doing now. She wants to be strong enough to not need it to sleep, to keep up the image she's shown Fox… But there's only so much she can handle.
With a shaking hand, she pulls out a bottle and removes the cork, the quiet pop already just setting her nerves a little at ease. She'll be able to forget about all of this soon enough. But she needs that relief now and so she lifts the bottle to her lips and takes a few sips, her nose burning from it, but she doesn't let herself cough about it. There's a relief to feeling something other than overwhelming fear at what's to come tomorrow.
Satisfied she'll get enough of a buzz to sleep through the rest of the night, she sets the bottle down and sits at the counter. She hunches over, wrapping her arms around herself as the tears start up almost instantly. She never should have volunteered for this. She doesn't deserve to win more than Rhiannon or Ciana, who are trying to earn their freedom. No, she's here just trying to earn the praise from her family that has never loved her. And yet, as much as she doesn't want to fight for them, she will fight in that arena, and that's the worst part of this. Because as much as she doesn't deserve Fox caring about her, he doesn't deserve to go through the hurt of her dying.
She tries to keep her sobs quiet, but she has no idea what volume they are right now. All she can focus on is the burning pain in her at the future that she never wanted, yet she has no way out of now. The future starting tomorrow. This was never what she wanted…but she doesn't even know what she wanted. Just not violence…never violence. Yet it's her fault for never finding something she was actually good at. What does it say about her that the only thing she's been good at her whole life was training the last few months?
It makes her a monster. A monster who so desperately wants someone to love her.
She doesn't hear the footsteps until she hears the soft voice saying her name. "Shams? Are you okay?"
Shams puts her head down and turns away from Fox, harshly wiping at her tears. "I'm fine, you don't need to worry about me," she tells him, hoping he'll believe it. Because why does she deserve him caring about her? She doesn't…even if she wants him to. "You can go back to sleep, I'll be fine on my own."
"Sham, I could hear you crying from my room," Fox says and Shams winces at that, trying her best to hold in another sob. The last thing she wanted was to wake up the others. "Clearly you're not fine…let me help."
"I don't deserve your help," Shams tells him, searching his kind eyes for some sign that his concern is fake, just like it's always been. "I'm not a good person, Fox, and you don't deserve to get hurt over me."
"Are you saying that because you volunteered? Because I don't believe that at all. So what's wrong? You can talk to me about it," Fox tells her gently, but she just shakes her head at him. She can't tell him all of this, if he knows about it, he'll finally realize she's not worth his time. "Is it the Games starting or something else?"
"Both," she answers and Fox gives her an expectant look, but she doesn't elaborate on that, just curls up smaller. "I don't want to be a burden on you."
"You're absolutely not a burden," he says gently, putting a hand on her shoulder and making her tense up. He sighs lightly before continuing, "How about we go get some fresh air? I don't know about you but being in the city makes me feel claustrophobic and miss the openness of Ten. Maybe it will do you some good."
Shams can only nod her head, afraid her voice will crack if she speaks. He takes her arm and she lets him gently lead her over to the elevator and they ride up in silence. When the doors open and she steps out onto the roof, she does get a bit of instance soothing being surrounded by so many plants and flowers.
But it's short-lived and they both stop moving when one of the new Head Gamemaker's steps out into the path in front of them. Shams is instantly on edge and steps partially behind Fox, remembering the unsettling questioning he did at the party.
"Ah, District Ten, great District. Lovely night, isn't it?" Julian asks them as he reaches up to pet the parrot on his shoulder. He lazily grins at the two of them for a moment. "But of course, you two look like you don't want me bothering you, so I'll just be on my way."
Julian steps around them and Shams grabs Fox's arm, holding on tight and turning to stay behind him as the man passes them. He glances back over his shoulder, past them, as he approaches the elevator, before looking at them and giving them a salute. Neither of them move until the doors have shut behind him and even then, Shams doesn't want to move away from Fox. Not when she feels safe and secure near him.
"I always try to see the positive in people," Fox starts quietly and shakes his head as he puts his hand over Shams's on his arm. "But something about that man just makes me feel…off."
"I don't like him. And now he's in control of the arena…" Shams responds softly, shaking her head for a moment until the movement makes it start pounding. "Can we please talk about something other than him?"
"Well…" Fox says slowly, leading her away from the elevator. "We can talk about what is keeping you from sleeping – and don't just say the Games because that alone doesn't make someone do that."
Shams sighs as they approach a bench. She sits down and he joins her right away, letting her take her time before speaking. "I don't feel like I belong," she finally starts, pinpointing the easiest concern to talk about that's keeping her awake tonight. "My history has proven that to be true."
"With Rhiannon and Ciana?" Fox asks and she nods her head. "What makes you think that?"
"I just feel like they don't want me around and only agreed to be in an alliance because the mentors put it together," Shams says quietly, pulling up her feet onto the bench to wrap her arms around her legs. She puts her face on her knees, hiding her shame from Fox as her eyes start watering. "No one ever wants me around. I'm just there, useless and taking up space."
"Well I don't believe that for one minute," Fox says and she shakes her head, only making him put a hand on her back. "I'm serious, Shams. I want you around so therefore, what you said cannot be true. And I have no reason to believe that Rhiannon and Ciana don't want you around."
"Rhiannon would rather be with Ardent," she says quietly, picking up her head to look at him with tearstained eyes. "And Ciana has much more drive to win and knows we can't all live. But me? I'm just the monster trying to save my parents who never loved me from their own-" She suddenly stops and blinks a couple times before squinting into the darkness of plants. "Hello?" she calls out, swearing she saw someone. "Is someone there?"
Fox follows her gaze and stands up to get a better look, but after a few seconds, he sits back down. "I don't see anyone," he tells her gently. He turns his body to face her and puts a hand on her shoulder, waiting until she looks at him to continue, "But why do you think you're a monster?"
"Because I am one," she answers harshly, turning her face away from him. She shuts her eyes as tears fall down her cheeks and she barely holds in a sob. "I hate violence yet it's the only thing I've ever been good at! But my family only cares that I'm here to earn them bail, not that I'm going to keep being a murderer-" she cuts herself off and takes a shaky breath, so close to telling him about what happened with the Canovas. She knows the information is already out there from that serum…and she's probably doomed for it. But can she really tell Fox what happened and have it be the reason he finally pushes her away? No…she can't…
"I'm still fighting for them when they've given me nothing in return," Shams continues, trying to get the topic away from what she did. "But who else am I supposed to fight for? Myself?" She scoffs at that suggestion. "I'm not worth it."
"You could fight for me," Fox tells her softly and she turns away from the look in his eyes, not wanting the hope to build in her that someone actually cares for her. "I don't want to lose you, Shams. You're a kind person who I wish I had known before all this so I could have stopped you from volunteering. Someone who cares a lot…" He pauses when she turns back to him and it's his turn to look away. "Someone I'd like to see if there could be a future with."
Shams's heart breaks at that suggestion, knowing it's what she wants more than anything. Someone to love her and care about her. But she's not a good person, not like him. "You don't want me around your children," she tells him, shaking her head when he gives her a confused look. "I'm the child of a drug lord's affair who…who probably won't be allowed to leave that arena alive." She holds up a shaking hand to stop him, needing to tell him the truth, so he can know who she really is and leave her now. "A couple months ago when I was walking home from training…the son of the family my parents worked with attacked me because mine turned in his to be offered bail." She lets out a sob and puts her head down as the tears start falling harder. "He…he was going to kill me. I-I didn't have a choice but to…"
She can't continue as the sobs overtake her. Her chest hurts with each shaking breath and her eyes burn. Yet when Fox puts an arm around her and pulls her close, letting her cry against him, the tears only get worse. "I'm so sorry that happened to you," he says, sniffling a little as he holds her closer. "But like you said, you didn't have a choice. You stayed alive…and you have to keep doing that starting tomorrow." Shams shakes her head at that and he clings to her more. "Please, Shams… You're not a bad person, I know that with everything in me. And I need you to come back to me alive."
She wants to say she will, to keep having moments where he cares about her…but she can't make that promise. She doesn't know if they'll let her live, let alone if she can even kill again. Can she really go in there and actively try to kill people? It's so much different than fighting in self-defense… But for that slim chance of having someone that cares about her…
"I'll try."
Elin Martinez-Snow, Rebel Leader
"They're all so blind," Elin says as they stare out the window of their hotel room, out into the lights of the city. They shake their head and clench their fists at their sides, before taking a deep breath to try and stay calm. They are going to get what they deserve so very soon.
Rona steps up behind them and puts her hands on their shoulders, trying to rub some of the tension out of them, as they both look outside. "They're disgusting," she says and Elin slowly nods their head. "Look at how quickly they've moved on from Baylor's death, all because the President said a few words to smooth things over."
"The fake President," Elin points out quietly before rolling their shoulders back and brushing away her hands. They turn to face her and grab her hips, pulling her closer for some desperately needed comfort. "Blaming us while they lie to everyone's faces about the last one still being alive."
"They're going to learn soon enough," Rona replies as she hugs Elin tight. "We're so close to ending all this."
"They don't know how close we are," Elin says as there's a knock on the door. They step out of Rona's arms as Larisa opens the door, peeking her head in first before fully stepping in. "What is it?"
Larisa shuts the door behind her before holding up her phone and waving it at them. "It took some time, but after hacking into my dear sister's phone, I was able to get into the building system." She shakes her head and lets out a scoff as she steps closer to the pair to stare out the window, limping a little. "Clearly she never learned anything while in the Capitol undercover. And now when things come tumbling down, the paths will lead to her and they'll blame her and those two bastards with her. And I can't wait to get back at that bitch that shot me," she adds at the end, rubbing her leg.
"In due time, Larisa. But excellent work," Elin says, slowly grinning at Larisa as they turn back around to the window. Rona wraps her arms around their waist and rests her chin on their shoulder and they stand in silence for a minute, staring out at the people who have refused to listen to them. "Enough is enough. It's time for the Capitol to finally learn that we won't stop until the Games end now. They have brought this on themselves."
They have to pay for those that they have taken away from Elin. Those that should have been by their side as they stare out into the Capitol and the President's Mansion looming straight ahead of them. They took away their mother. Their best friend. And they won't let them take one more person away from them.
Elin turns away from the President's Mansion, feeling their anger building just from looking at it. "Everything is in place?"
"I've got the Games Headquarters," Larisa replies immediately, smug look on her face. "Which means I can also get to that bitch."
"And we already got the arena," Rona adds, watching Elin's face carefully. "We have a weakness to extort Julian but we still have no idea who Calisto is. He just doesn't exist until a few months ago."
"Well keep looking," Elin snaps at her and she puts her head down right away. "Everyone has a weakness to exploit. I want to know what his is. And then…" they slowly turn back to look out into the Capitol. The place that's taken everything from them. It's time they learned what they have gone through. "Then we burn it all."
And with that, the pre-Games has officially come to an end and it time for the Games to begin! Buckle up because I have Plans for the arena.
I am not at all surprised by the length of this chapter lol. These two tribute POVs were ones I'd been planning for a while now because I love that good night before angst. And of course, gotta have a little rebel check in...
RQ: As always with the Night Before chapter: what are your bloodbath predictions?
I will see you all on July 16th for the Bloodbath! As we get closer, I will put a time on my profile for when I'll post it, so keep a lookout there! I'd say it will probably be in the evening EST but we shall see! Thanks to everyone who has stuck around to this point and I hope you're as excited as I am for the arena! See you all then and...
Let the Hunger Games begin...