"What the hell were you two doing out there? You let District Twelve steal the goddamn show! District Twelve!" barks Gloss the moment we step inside our apartment.
"It's not our fault we had such crappy costumes!" retorts Glimmer.
"It's District Twelve! You should've been able to wear a burlap sack and still look better," says Gloss, "Now, we've gotta play catchup."
Christ, he doesn't have to be so dramatic. Their costumes were better. So what? It's not like it'll stop a spear.
"Those two look a lot better than last year's. Most tributes from Twelve look like they've never eaten a full meal a day in their lives, but those two have a little meat on their bones," says Cashmere thoughtfully.
Gloss snorts. "It wasn't that way when I competed. In my games, those skinny bastards didn't last five minutes," he says with a grin that reminds me of Clove.
"You think they've got any other surprises?" I ask.
"Hell no. All they've got going for them is a good stylist and less-starved bodies than usual," says Gloss dismissively.
How can he be so confident? Hell, Thresh is from Eleven and he may be the biggest threat in the games, other than Cato.
"I can't wait to get them in the arena," says Glimmer bitterly, crossing her still silver arms.
Cashmere looks thoughtful, the wheels evidently turning in her head. "I doubt they've got anything, but keep your eye on 'em. If you sleep on your opponents, you're gonna get your throat slit," she says.
Huh, Cashmere definitely seems like the smarter of our two mentors. Too bad I'm technically stuck with Gloss.
"Ah Cash, when'd you get so paranoid? You used to be so cocky," teases Gloss.
"And you still are," she retorts, "I've just seen enough tributes ignore the outer districts and it comes back to get 'em."
"Cash, I do believe you're talking out of your ass," chuckles Gloss, drawing a laugh from Glimmer who turns the same gaze she used on Cato on our mentor.
Oh good lord.
"You won't be laughing if some outer district kid you ignored ends up killing you," Cashmere says hotly as Glimmer and Gloss laugh louder.
I take that as my opportunity to slip out of the room. At least Prue is still screwing around at the Capitol parties. Still, there's only so much of Glimmer and Gloss I can take. She bent my ear on the elevator about every flaw she imagined District Twelve and all the ways she was considering killing them, while I had to keep my mouth shut. I can't turn on these people…at least not yet.
I hop in the huge walk-in shower and start scrubbing the silver paint off my body and hair. Damn. If Antony did one thing right, he made the paint durable. I start pressing random buttons on the control panel, hoping to find something. The water switches from hot to cold and back again, changes pressure and discharges shampoo before a green button finally brings out the body-wash that does away with the silver paint.
I'm not sure how long I've been in here, but I don't really care. The shower's washing all the tension of the past few hours away and carrying it down the drain. I scrub my entire body and wash my hair thoroughly. My freshly-scrubbed and shaven body tingles in the sauna-like heat. Too be honest, it feels pretty good. I almost forget I'm in the Capitol. I could be back home in the locker room shower after a hard training session and I've got friends and trainers waiting for me outside instead of Glimmer and Gloss.
By the time I step out and dry off, it's late. I peek my head out the door and notice the others dozing in front of the television while Caesar Flickerman drones on and on about the parades and the suddenly popular girl on fire: Katniss.
I can't help but smile at that. Girl on fire. Not a bad nickname, although Glimmer's not going to be too happy about having even more spotlight stolen from her.
This is the perfect time to explore my temporary home. I slip on a t-shirt and shorts and creep out the door. The hallway's empty, no sign of peacekeepers or tributes. I slink over to the elevator as stealthily as my lanky frame will allow me to and enter. Choices, choices. I don't want to run into any trouble, so the other tribute's floors are out. The roof beckons and at the push of a button, I'm on my way.
In seconds, I stroll out onto the roof of the Training Center. It's pretty well furnished, complete with a garden. It's a hell of a view too. All around me, I can see the brightly lit buildings of the Capitol, stretching up into the dark sky that overflows with stars that shimmer like my ridiculous silver body paint. This is nothing like home.
I walk to the edge and look down, immediately feeling dizzy. I've never been up so high in my life. Over twelve stories below me, the lights of the street all blur into one glow. I pick up a small rock from the garden and drop it over the edge. Too my surprise, it flies back at me, nearly hitting me in the face. Damn, I guess the Capitol really doesn't want any of us dying if there's no one to film it.
It's nice up here, but a little cold. I'm about to head back inside when I notice a door off to the side of the elevator. I poke my head in and get a nice surprise. It's a pool and an unbelievable one at that, complete with an elaborate grotto and a small waterfall that looks like something you'd find in a jungle. I dip a foot in the clear blue water and find that it's heated. Okay, that's it. I'm swimming.
I throw my clothes off and jump in wearing only my underwear. I can always get another pair. Good thing the Academy taught us how to swim. I was always amazed when I watched film and saw how many of the tributes couldn't swim, which usually prompted the gamemakers to flood the arena just for kicks. But right now, I don't care about that. I'm just floating in the soothing water. There's no Glimmer. No Gloss. No Prue. No Clove. No Cato. And no Capitol. I'm here right now and I'm going to enjoy myself for one of my few free remaining evenings.
I find my way over to the shallows and lean against the fine granite that borders the pool. This is an excellent moment, one of those rare moments so perfectly serene that you wish you could live in it forever. Just for tonight, I'll be away from the games.
When my eyes open, I'm still in the pool. How long have I been here? I know I must've fallen asleep but there's no clock. Let's hope Gloss hasn't noticed me sneaking out or I'm in for a lecture.
I climb out and dry off before quickly redressing, my underwear unfortunately still wet and dripping down my thighs. Oh thank god, it's still dark out, not even the slightest hint of morning on the horizon. Must still be a few hours away. I'm about to call the elevator when I notice something, a solitary figure sitting near the edge of the building. Curious, I walk over to see the girl of fire herself, back turned and gaze fixed out over the still lit city.
"Excuse me," I say in my friendliest voice.
Katniss jumps anyway and turns her grey eyes on me, which immediately narrow in suspicion.
"What'd you want?" she asks shortly, her voice sharper than any weapon I've ever trained with.
"Just to sit down. May I?" I ask, keeping my smile.
She still looks suspicious…and confused. Maybe it's because I haven't made any threats to kill her yet. Y'know, the usual career shit. She nods reluctantly and I sit beside her, stretching my long legs out as I stare at the sky.
"I'm Marvel, by the way," I say, flashing my brightest grin.
"Katniss," she answers flatly, her eyes watching me the same way a deer would watch a wolf.
"Nice night, isn't it?" I ask cheerfully.
She raises an eyebrow at me, but answers anyway. "I suppose it is. I'd rather be home, though," she says.
"Yeah, you and me both," I say, a hint of sadness seeping into my voice. I know my mission, but I still miss everyone and everything familiar. My room. My house. My parents. Striker especially.
"Don't you want to be here? Isn't this like…your lifelong dream or something?" Katniss asks, sounding more confused.
I chuckle. "Don't believe everything you hear. Some of us have better reasons to be here than personal glory," I say.
"What're yours?" Katniss asks, apparently still suspicious. Then again, who can blame her. District One hasn't exactly been a friend of District Twelve in the past.
"My family mostly. They need this," I answer. I can tell by the look on her face that she's surprised and, dare I say it, interested.
"What's wrong with them?" she asks.
I sigh before answering. "Too many hours. My father used to work mining diamonds, but he…he lost his hand in an accident and has to take what he can get. He mostly takes whatever temp work he can get in our warehouses. My mother tries to pick up the slack cleaning homes and doing people's laundry, but we're barely getting by," I say.
Katniss must've picked up the sincerity in my voice because she looks sympathetic, especially when I mentioned my father.
"I didn't know District One mined diamonds," she says quietly.
"Well sure. Did you think we picked 'em off trees or something?" I ask with a laugh that Katniss, despite her best effort, can't keep from spreading.
"I guess I just never thought of it. Everyone's a coal-miner back home, so that kind of takes all our focus," says Katniss.
"Is that what you wanted to do?" I ask. After what happened to my dad, I can't imagine mining being an appealing job to anybody.
She just shrugs. "There's pretty much nothing else to do in District Twelve other than mine coal and avoid the Hunger Games," she says matter-of-factly.
I can't suppress a smirk at that statement. "Not to be a dick, but you seem to have failed that last part," I say jokingly.
The look Katniss gives me wipes the smile right off my face. She just looks depressed now…thanks to me reminding her where she is. Suddenly, I don't have a very high opinion of myself.
"Hey, I'm sorry. I didn't mean to…I was just messin' with ya," I say lamely, trying to alleviate my guilt.
"It's alright. You didn't mean a thing by it," she says quietly before sighing and looking back towards the starry sky. "I get what you said about family. I just wanted to save my sister."
I think back to that, how she volunteered. It was probably the most noble thing I've ever seen. Hell, Katniss doesn't seem stupid. She knows the odds are never in District Twelve's favor. Look at me for god's sake. Even growing up poor in District One, I was far better off than most of the people in Twelve, receiving three square meals a day and valuable training at the academy. Compared to Katniss and the other kids from the outer districts, the odds have always been in my favor.
"Yeah, I saw what you did at the reaping," I say, for once unsure of how to proceed.
Katniss' sharp grey eyes flicker back to me, the suspicion returning full-force. "If you're going to tell me what an idiot I am or say anything about my sister, you can go ahead and leave," she snaps.
I know that emotion, that protectiveness. That feeling that you'd do anything for your little sibling, who looks up to you like you're some kind of superhero, more powerful than any weapon Snow could ever fashion.
"That wasn't where I was going at all. I just wanted to say that it was one of the most courageous things I've ever seen," I say earnestly.
Katniss' head turns quickly towards me, sharp grey eyes softening and studying me for any sign of joking. There's none there and she must see it to. Her mouth twitches into a sad smile.
"Thank you," she says quietly.
Her grey eyes now look friendlier than before, not so fierce. Her long dark hair is shifted right, forming a silky curtain on the other side of her face, exposing her delicate features. She looks…beautiful.
Wait, what am I doing? She's another tribute and not even a career. Tradition says we should be fighting right now or at the very least threatening each other, yet that isn't happening and that makes me happy for some reason.
Katniss stays silent a few more moments before getting up to return to her apartment.
"Goodnight, Marvel," she says, smiling at me once before walking off toward the elevator.
"See ya in training tomorrow. Oh and Katniss," I say, watching as she turns back towards me.
"Yeah?" she asks.
"Try not to set anything on fire on the way down," I say grinning slyly. Katniss scoffs and laughs at the same time before disappearing down the elevator.
I head down soon after, sneaking into my apartment with stealth that would make the President's spies jealous. Lying in bed, my face feels funny, like it's contorted. I put my hand to it and realize that it's a smile…one that hasn't left my face since the roof.
A/N: Uh oh. Training begins soon and our hero isn't exactly committed to the Career mindset. Special shoutout to Dreaming of Starry Skies for being the first to review. As always, all reviews, follows and favorites are greatly appreciated.