"Public appearances are a headache. I hold mine down to a minimum." -Jack Nicklaus
"So," starts Blight, sipping a glass of water, "Let's work on your angle."
"My angle?" asks James, rubbing his eyes. It's past noon, but Bunting trying to teach him how to walk in a suit (Which wasn't a hard activity until Bunting announced that it had to be) the whole morning has sapped him of almost all his energy.
"Y'know, what you're gonna act like to the Capitol," Blight replies. "You've got their attention. Not only did you woo them at the Tribute Parade, but you have a brother who died last year in the Games. And you have a 10 training score."
James recalls this; Every year, tributes go with some sort of approach to appeal to the crowd. He remembers Justinian, all dazzled up, making self-deprecating jokes that left the crowd roaring with laughter.
"Right, right," James replies. "So, what have you got in mind?"
"Let's find out," Blight replies, grinning his signature grin.
At first, they try cockiness. It might just be the questions Blight's asking, but James simply lacks the arrogance to appear cocky to the audience, or at to appear least cocky and charming at once. Blight shakes his head, mutters how it's good that James doesn't have his head up his ass, and then moves on. Blight tries to make James appear ferocious, but they're four questions in when James stops him.
"What's wrong?" Blight asks, rubbing a hand through his beard.
"I can't appear ferocious," James says.
"Why?"
"Because of Violet," James replies. "I'm gonna at least make an attempt to save her. I can't appear ferocious with a little girl by my side." Quickly he adds, "And not sticking with her in the Games is off the table."
Blight smiles. "Good lad. I was Reaped with a younger girl too. Your approach is respectable." Suddenly, Blight's eyes light up. "What if we worked in two approaches?"
"Two approaches?" James replies, cocking an eyebrow.
"For part of the interview, maybe the questions about Violet, you could act ferocious, but as those questions pass, we move on and you take on a new approach."
"I like it," James says.
After two questions, it's evident that James is not sexy, so they move on. James is too friendly to act mysterious. He's sort of witty, but not enough. Blight tries one of his last approaches: Humorous, and it strikes gold. James nails question after question, and Blight even lets out a snort on occasion.
"Well, James," Blight says, putting away his notepad with a grin, "I think we've got your skill down."
James smiles, but then his mind wanders to Violet, the little girl who he hasn't seen since breakfast earlier in the day. "What's Violet's approach?"
"What do you think?" Blight asks, his green eyes looking into James' own.
"She's gonna act resilient but innocent?"
Blight shakes his head. "Well, innocent might be a bit...relative. We talked it over while you were being forced to walk the walk for Bunting and she's gonna be a defiant little girl. She'll remind the audience that her size isn't where her strengths lay."
"She could play the part," James says, smirking to himself. The girl's got guts, that's for sure, James thinks. "She's tough."
"Damn right she's tough," Blight smirks back. "Stronger than me, that's for sure. I could barely breathe the whole way to the Games. Eques could barely breathe too."
James glances around the fancy living room they've met in more times than James can count. Eques is missing. "Speaking of her, where exactly is Eques?"
"I think she's sleeping," Blight says with a shrug. "She's barely slept since you all started training."
James nods. "When's the interviews?"
Blight glances at a fancy wristwatch James didn't notice on him before; Maybe Blight's gone shopping, James thinks. "Uh, about three or four hours. Make yourself at home. You've got nothing to do until then."
James wanders away after a short while, and resolves himself to taking a long, long shower. At first, he's having fun, pressing buttons that have no explanation: A little button of a plant dumps half a bottle of organic-smelling shampoo on his head; Various knobs adjust where the water's coming from, its heat, and its pressure. James laughs to himself as water sprays him at high-velocity from twenty different directions.
Who needs all this luxury?
After a full ten minutes of this, however, James' mind wanders. He asks himself if Justinian lived in these very quarters, slept in his bed, was showering in this exact shower just a year ago. His happiness slowly fades as he realizes, fully, the nature of Justinian's death. Previously, James had tried not to pay his brother's death any mind. It barely registered when he actually died. After his brother froze to death, his mother fell into a deep depression from which she never awoke from, eventually taking her life on the three-month anniversary of his death.
Before, he acknowledged that Justinian's death was the result of a bad arena. That's all the people from the Capitol think of. The 67th Hunger Games. Nothing but merely a poor choice on the Gamemakers' part. Nobody from the Capitol cares about Justinian Antony Henderson from District 7, who died a slow, cold death sobbing, curled up in a ball.
Nobody cares about his district partner, whose name was Kelsey. She was a beautiful girl, smart, and the best softball catcher in the whole district, maybe even the whole nation. Nobody cares about Kelsey Smithsonian, the eighteen-year-old girl from District 7, who gasped for breath as she, one of the Careers' daggers lodged in her chest.
James realizes that nobody cares about the tributes from District 7, or 8 or 9 or 10 or any of them, as long as their tributes die. The only way for a tribute to be memorable to the Capitol is if they either win or die in a spectacular fashion. Nobody's cared about the tributes from District 7 in eight years. People only remember Tribute 7 from the 60th Hunger Games because the boy from 7, a tall boy named Paulo, somehow found a way to make pipe bombs out of scrap metal and accidentally detonated one when he tripped, which in turn set off all four of them, leaving Paulo in pieces.
James punches the shower wall in frustration.
James is going to make sure that District 7 wins this year.
Whether it be James or Violet, District 7 will have a victor in the 68th Annual Hunger Games.
For Justinian, James thinks.
For Kelsey.
For everyone that didn't get the honor they deserved.
.
.
.
James faces his prep team the following morning. He's gotten all their names down: Dax, Livius, and Fragrance. James is shocked. The Capitol has named someone Fragrance. The team makes up for it, though: They're energetic and kind and the happiest bunch James has seen in the Capitol. They pour over James, making sure his muscles stand out, defining his eyes, making his eyebrows somehow look fierce. They don't take too much time though, and don't alter James' face as much. For a moment, James is thrilled that he's a boy; He can only imagine what they're doing to Violet, or any of the other girls.
When they're done, Cliff appears, smiling his usual warm smile. "Here," he says, "I have the suit for the Warrior Boy."
James chuckles."Thanks, Cliff," he replies.
James finds himself wearing a stunning black suit that makes him look mysterious, just as he would have suspected. "You look stunning," Dax says admiringly.
James laughs. "Barely, Dax, but thanks."
After meeting up with everyone else from District 7, they take an elevator down to the ground floor. Violet is wearing a white dress on, and with her makeup she almost looks like an angel. Bunting swoons over them, excitedly exclaiming how much the audience will love them. Blight and Eques just stand together, a small smile on both their faces. James looks over at Violet; he hasn't talked to her all day.
"Hey, Vi," James greets her. If there's anyone in the world he can trust right now, it's definitely Violet.
"Hey, James," Violet chirps, smiling.
"How was yesterday?" James asks.
Violet rolls her eyes. "Ugh. Annoying. Bunting wouldn't let me walk."
The elevator laughs as Bunting's face goes red. The escort only says, "It has to be perfect!"
"I'm sure you did just fine, Bunting," smiles Cliff, reaching out and giving Bunting's shoulder a squeeze. This is what James likes about Cliff most; He seems incapable of saying anything negative.
The elevator opens with a ding, and James' heart stops only for a moment.
It's beautiful.
Crowds cheer as James and the other tributes take their seats in an arc near the stage. The stylists have taken their seats in a special section for them, and on an elevated platform the Gamemakers sit. James spots the Head Gamemaker, who looks back at him, only for a moment, before his eyes glance away. Except for that, the Capitol citizens, all shouting out with big grins. James hurriedly walks across the stage, and hopes not to attract any attention. Any confidence he has just flew out the window. He hates public speaking. Hates it. And now he's going to have to talk to the entire country. Every single television set will be on him when he goes up. Electricity will be supplied to every household in Panem tonight.
Talk about pressure.
He takes his seat, next to Violet, who whispers, "I'm nervous."
James whispers back, "Don't be. You'll kill it tonight."
Caesar Flickerman, the man who's hosted the interviews for some thirty-odd years, bounces onto the stage. Except for his ever-changing hair color, which is orange this year (Which reminds him of Bunting), he looks the same from when James first watched the interviews years ago. They do this in the Capitol; They surgically alter you to look younger, prettier, sexier. To James, though, half the Capitol's citizens look weird, so it doesn't have the same effect on him as it does to the people of the Capitol. After a few witty jokes, Caesar sits down and calls up the girl from District 1. Lepus.
James frowns as she walks confidently to the stage. Her smile appeals to the audience but her eyes say something different to James. They tell James that she'll be ferocious in the arena, and she already has it out for James, considering he scored better than her with the Gamemakers and put her axe-throwing skills to shame.
After laughing about her trip to the Capitol and some other niceties that are expected from a girl acting sexy to the Capitol, Lepus throws her hair back and winks to the crowd after her interview ends, with of course ends up with the Capitol audience cheering louder than ever.
The buzzer sounds, and Tybalt takes the stage. He has a golden suit on that actually makes him look kind of ugly. Perhaps this is sort of a brag: Tybalt is the most muscular tribute of them all, so it doesn't matter how ugly he looks in the interviews, he'll still get sponsors. Unlike most of the Career tributes, however, Tybalt doesn't brag: He speaks of his family back home for the most part, and very little about how ferocious he actually is. The buzzer sounds, and then the girl from District 2, Ontario, takes the stage.
They progress down the line, each tribute having a name and an angle.
Pollish, the blonde boy from District 2, is ferocious, just like a Career tribute ought to act.
The boy from District 4, the one who asked him to join the Career pack the first day of training, is named Caesar, and he and Caesar Flickerman laugh about their names.
Olivia, a small girl from District 4, has eyes that would kill and for the most part is rude to Caesar, which James dislikes because Caesar is such a likable man.
The District 5 tributes, Lelon and Steffanie, are quiet and far from outspoken, and when Caesar asks them questions they stutter and pause.
The boy from District 6, whose name is Mick, tries to brag about his score of 7 but anyone can see it's a ruse. Mick is just as horrified as everyone else to be participating in the games. The girl from 6 is so forgettable James doesn't even know her name.
Then Violet is called up and James gives her a high-five and whispers, "Kill it, Vi," into her ear as she takes the stage. Caesar asks her how the Capitol is treating her and she replies that the food is to die for, except the carrots, which are gross. As the interview comes to a close, Violet reminds the crowd that size does not equal strength. Caesar nods knowingly, and reminds the crowd that they'll have to keep an eye on her. The crowd cheers, and the buzzer comes, signaling the end of Violet's interview and the start of James'.
Caesar stands. "Up next is the warrior from District 7, whose brother competed last year, let's have a round of applause for James!"
The crowd breaks into applause as James lets out a short laugh to himself, bounding onto the stage with fake confidence. Be cool, James. You got this, he thinks to himself. Don't screw up, don't screw up, don't screw up.
James smiles as he sits next to Caesar on a comfortable chair. He has three minutes to woo the crowd, to convince them that he is the one they should spent their not-hard-earned money on. He lets out a deep breath, and their interview starts.
"So, James," starts Caesar, "before we go on, I must ask, just as I have with Violet, how's the Capitol? Has it been well to you since you got here?"
James smiles. This is an easy one, and he's happy that Caesar is the way that he is. Outspoken. Kind. Always guiding the interview for the tributes. "It's been amazing. I have to say, Caesar, the showers are amazing."
The crowd chuckles as Caesar asks, "The showers?" with a smile.
James laughs back. "Yeah. It's confusing, but they're great."
Caesar's eyes twinkle. "Confusing?"
"Too many buttons," James shrugs, which causes the audience to chuckle some more.
"Well, I'm sorry we annoyed you with your buttons," Caesar says with a fake frown. More laughter.
"You just need to, like, label the buttons," James says. "I press all these buttons and I don't know what they do. There's a button that makes your hair smell like a plant, and I really wish I knew that beforehand."
The crowd laughs louder as Caesar asks, "Well, what's wrong with smelling like a plant?"
"What isn't wrong with smelling like a plant?" James asks back with a cocked eyebrow.
After the crowd laughs some more, Caesar grows slightly more serious. "So, James, as we know, your costume was not similar to the ones last year, or the year before that. Have you anything to say about how you felt when the crowd cheered?"
"Well, my stylist has taste," James says, shooting a wink at Cliff, who winks back, "All I can say is the true meaning behind my costume will be revealed in the arena."
"Mysterious, I like it," Caesar smiles. "You've also scored a ten in your private session. That's not happened for District 7 in eight years. Any hints?"
"Nope," James says, crossing his arms defiantly with a smile. "You'll find that out in the arena."
"Come on, come on," Caesar groans. He turns to the audience. "Who wants to find out how he got that amazing ten?" The audience roars, yelling for James to throw them a bone.
"Well," James says, exhaling for effect, "All I can say that is my actions with the Gamemakers are reflective of my district, though I'm sure you'll find that out soon enough."
Caesar chuckles. "Good, good. I'm sure we all will be thrilled in the next few weeks." His eyes light up, like he's just remembered something. "And your district partner, Violet, what have you got to say for her?"
"I've got to say that if anyone in the arena messes with her, then they're messing with me," James says. "But she's fearless and twice as strong as me, so that won't be an issue." This statement feels good to him. He's established further that the other tributes better not touch Violet unless they want an axe in their head.
"Not only a fighter, but a gentlemen," Caesar smiles. His face suddenly darkens. "So, James, we've all been thinking about it since your Reaping. Your brother, Justinian, was Reaped last year."
"That he was," James says with a frown.
"How has this affected your thoughts? Your actions? Anything, anything at all?"
James pauses. What he says next will be heard around the nation, but he doesn't care how weak or strong he sounds, so he just speaks. "For years, Justinian and I were close. Towards the end, we had a few fights, and then he was Reaped and, well, Caesar, it didn't...didn't matter any more. Justinian wasn't killed last year. He died a slow, cold death. And goodbyes aren't enough sometimes. He's gone forever, and maybe the reason I scored that ten was for him." James pauses. He said it, and he's far from teary-eyed. This is good.
Caesar nods, and the audience lets out a few awws for James. Caesar coughs, and then says, "We know you have two brothers and your father back home. Is there anything you want to say to them, or perhaps even to Justinian?"
This was unexpected. James wasn't ready. Usually they don't ask a tribute to address their family. Nonetheless, James racks his brain for the right string of sentences, and then he sits up. He eyes one of the cameras directly, and clears his throat.
"Dad," he starts. "Bucky. Otto. I know last year was tough, tough on all of us, but you need to stay strong. I don't care what anyone tells you. I'm going to fight." He can feel the fire building up inside. "I'm going to fight as hard as I can and for as long as I can. I don't care about my limits. I'm going to fight and I'm going to win. For District 7. For you. For Mom." He exhales. "For Justinian."
The crowd maintains their silence for a moment, and then explodes into cheer as the buzzer sounds. James smiles as Caesar shouts out for another round of applause for the Warrior Boy from District 7, and the crowd cheers even more. He looks over at Cliff and Blight and the rest of them, and they're grinning with their thumbs up. Well, everyone except for Bunting, who's wiping his eyes with a napkin.
James takes his seat, and Violet looks at him with a smile. "You did great."
"Thanks," James huffs, surprised he can even talk with the cheering. He looks over at Violet. "We're partners."
"Partners," Violet smiles as the girl from District 8, Quebec, walks onto the stage. "As if we already weren't."
"We're super-partners now," James shrugs.
The rest of the tributes go up. Scotten, the boy from District 8, speaks of his speed for the most part. The District 9 tributes don't speak much; Both scored a six in their interviews. James doesn't need to be told that both of them don't exactly think they're going to win.
Declan takes the stage, handsome and charming, and makes the audience laugh before finishing with, "Beware the Ace of Spades, Careers." James laughs as the audience asks what that means, and Declan only winks. The girl from District 10 is named Kristina, and has long brown hair and a stunning dress that woos the audience. As she takes the stage, Declan looks at James, and then back at Kristina and nods, as if to say, She's in the club now.
James nods back. Kristina is part of their alliance now. That makes six tributes against the Careers. It's a six versus six fight. James would say it's fair, but he knows it's not. Even though Kristina looks strong and Caesar questions her on winning several athletic awards back in District 10, with Violet and Amelia, the girl from District 12, it's far from fair. Nonetheless, they're still all bound together by one goal: Killing the Careers.
The pair from District 11 go. The girl, Michaela, is white, unlike most tributes from District 11, and has shiny blue eyes and hair pulled into a bun and while she's charismatic and beautiful, James knows that there's no way she'll win. The boy, tall and strong and dark-skinned, is named Oxford, and for a good reason; He's built like an ox. He's humorous, laughing with Caesar the whole time.
Romeo and Amelia go. As expected, Amelia is a nervous wreck, but Romeo maintains his confidence, speaking of how District 12 has helped prepare him. The audience doesn't know what this means, but James does. It means his life has been so bad for so long that surviving in the Games won't be so difficult.
After standing for the anthem of Panem, they return to the Training Center. Once James enters the seventh floor, everyone is shouting and cheering and slapping the two on the back. Dinner is available immediately, and the meal is filled with accomplishments, laughter, and banter. James feels nice. It's the best meal he's had in his life. Grilled chicken, garlic bread, and french fries. A simple meal by Capitol standards, but a feast by James'.
Once their meal is finished, they watch the interviews again. The people in the room voice disgust when the Careers are on screen and then applaud when James and Violet go up. After Romeo's interview, the room falls silent. The Games are tomorrow. This is the last time James will see Blight or Eques or Bunting either until he wins, or, well, it will be the last time he ever sees them. He hugs Eques politely, who tells him that she'll make sure he gets a gift, but when it comes to Bunting, their escort is crying and gross and his makeup is stained and James pulls him into a hug.
"I'm going to miss you," Bunting snobs.
James smiles sadly. "Me too, Bunting."
After Bunting, there's Blight. Blight hugs him too, and whispers into his ear, "Push yourself, Warrior Boy."
James smiles. "Bye, Blight. Any final advice?"
"Don't die," Blight replies, releasing James from his hug. He clears his throat, and James knows he's about to give real advice. "A good amount of the tributes probably won't be going to the Cornucopia this year. Violet, you run to cover but make sure James can see you, and James, you could fight at the Bloodbath but don't. You're strong, really strong, but you can't hold off attacks from Tybalt and Lepus at the same time. Run to the Cornucopia, get two weapons and maybe a pack, and then clear out of there. Clear?"
"Clear," the two tributes say in unison.
Blight nods. "Good. Get some rest tonight, and, well...good luck to both of you."
Violet stays to talk to Bunting some more, but James turns and heads into his bedroom. Just like every day since he's been Reaped, the day was stressful, and he sheds his suit in exchange for sweatpants and a commando sweater over a T-shirt, just like his first outfit at the train. He dims the lights, and collapses onto the bed, and closes his eyes.
Unlike every other night in the Capitol, he can't sleep.
The sheets are welcoming, the pillow is cold, and he's dressed snugly, but he can't sleep.
He eyes one of three digital clocks in the room as a full hour passes. It reads 10:14 PM.
James rubs his eyes, and the questions he's pushed out of his mind suddenly flood back in. He wonders what the terrain will be like. He's always assumed a forest, or maybe a swamp, but odds are they won't. Last year not only Justinian froze; Sixteen out of the twenty-four tributes either froze to death or were killed while suffering from extreme hypothermia. Perhaps they'll make up for it with a scorching desert. Or maybe they'll act like last year wasn't boring and just have a normal arena.
James assumes it has trees. It'll probably have trees. It has to have trees. For fire. If there's a tree he could leave Violet in it and go scavenging. A cave would be better. He hopes there's a cave.
Assuming he can find a cave and there's water, then what? James could hunt rabbits, but he needs a bow for that, or at least a spear, neither of which he's used (Except for several years ago with Ven). He could try to hit a rabbit with an axe, but rabbits are too fast. Berries would keep Violet going, but not him.
If, by some chance, he makes it to the Cornucopia and back with axe and a pack, the food would only last him and Violet a few days, combined with berries. If he wants to hold out to the Feast, which happens maybe a week or two into the Games, he'll need to find some form of sustenance.
He'll have to kill.
James has never been a violent person, but he's seen what the Games have done. He's considered it, the concept of murdering for the Capitol, ever since he was made available for tesserae five years ago, and now the reality is pushing in. James can only hope that when the time comes, he'll only kill those who are attacking him or Violet and nobody else. He also hopes that if or when he kills someone, he'll be able to forgive himself.
He hopes.
By now, it's 10:30 and James wriggles out of bed and paces over to the window. He can't hear it through the thick window glass, but down on the streets the Capitol is having a party. He vaguely remembers hearing something about it from Blight, but he hasn't seen it. The Capitol citizens are going crazy. Most wouldn't wake up by noon at this point, what with their partying, but what with the Games, they'll all rise to watch the Games occur.
Sighing, James goes back to bed.
He tosses and turns for an hour before sleep finally takes him, and James fades into a worried but dreamless sleep.
.
.
.
James sits in the hovercraft with Cliff. After waking up at the crack of dawn and getting chipped, they were ordered to sit tight until they reach the arena. He has no idea where Violet is, though she's probably in a similar hovercraft, accelerating towards the arena at a speed unseen by the both of them until now.
"How do you feel?" Cliff asks, his eyes sad.
"Nervous. Cliff, I'm terrified," James replies. He's never felt this nervous before, not in his whole life. Probably because nothing in his whole life was ever this dangerous. Twenty-three people his age or younger, tasked with killing him.
Cliff ponders this for a moment before opening his mouth. "This too shall pass."
"What?" James asks.
"This too shall pass," Cliff repeats. "It's something my mother used to say to me. It means that whatever you're experiencing right now, eventually it will pass. I won't tell you to take deep breaths, because, well, that never helped me, but just know that eventually, what you're feeling, it's gonna pass."
"I guess," James exhales. "I'm just...I don't wanna die."
"Nobody wants to die," Cliff replies. "The whole thing with the Hunger Games is that the victor is the boy or girl who didn't want to die the most." He leans in. "If you keep your wits about you and don't do anything stupid, then you'll be the victor. You've got lots of admirers in the Capitol, James. Admirers who want to send you food and water, and even weapons. If you manage to stay alive long enough, then you'll get those gifts."
James nods. "Thanks, Cliff."
"Anytime." Cliff leans back.
James had never seen this part of Cliff before, but Cliff was right: If he wasn't stupid and didn't let fear take advantage of him, he'd win.
He'd win.
For the next hour or so, they travel in the hovercraft until they darken the windows for another half hour. Past that, the hovercraft lands, and down the ladder they go, into the underground Launch Room. Well, Launch Room is what the Capitol says. Everyone calls it the Stockyard in the districts. James showers and brushes his teeth. Unlike the training center, he's the first person to use this Launch Room. He'll also be the last.
Cliff gives James his outfit. It's a simple outfit, typical tribute gear: Leather boots designed for running, not warmth, with cotton socks underneath, tawny pants, an olive T-shirt, and a black windbreaker underneath. There's a leather belt that accompanies it, and James puts it on. It has loops for a knife or a hatchet, and otherwise fits well.
James is zipping up his windbreaker when Cliff hands him the clover necklace that Iris gave him.
"Where'd you get this?" James asks, happily putting it on. He forgot about it.
"They took it off you when you first came to the Capitol," Cliff reminds him. "Review board cleared it easily enough. Hope it gives you good luck."
"Me, too," James sighs. The lightweight necklace feels natural around his neck, and James adjusts it so it's not visible over his windbreaker. If that was the case, it'd fly around everywhere. James sits on a couch, and kisses the clover on the necklace. Normally, it would seem odd to James for him to do this, but James figures that he needs all the help he could get.
Cliff plops down on the couch. "Fit well?"
"Perfect."
Cliff puts a hand on James' shoulder and gives a brief squeeze. "Good."
They sit like that for the next twenty minutes, until the pleasant female voice announces that it's time to prepare for launch into the arena. James stands, exhales loudly, and paces over to the circular plate. He turns, and looks at Cliff.
"Run fast, get a weapon, and get to Violet," Cliff instructs. "Don't waste time on anything else."
James nods. "I will."
Cliff steps forward and gives him a hug. After he releases from it, Cliff says, "I can't bet, but you know it'd be on you. Good luck, Warrior Boy."
"Thank you, Cliff," James smiles. "If I don't make it out, then...you were the best stylist a stylist could be. Thank you so much."
Cliff's eyes are teary now. "Yeah. Sure. Now...now go win. I'll see you in two weeks."
The cylinder James is on starts to accelerate upwards, and James is plunged in darkness for a few seconds until his cylinder rises into the arena. He's blinded for a moment, and then he looks around.
Immediately James sighs with relief.
He's in a field with hard-packed dirt, probably hard enough to run on. To James' left, a big lake. It's customary for them to put lakes near the Cornucopia To the north, more plains and then a swamp. To his right, forest. James cranes his neck behind him to see even more forest.
Blight and Eques want them to go to the forest. The swamp's a death trap, and the Careers will reach the lake before anyone else.
James looks to his right. It's the girl from District 6, Kristina. She eyes him cautiously, and then taps her shoulder three times.
The code.
Two taps means Cornucopia, three taps means run away.
James nods, and taps his shoulder twice, earning a nod from Kristina. He looks over at Declan, who's three tributes to his right. He nods at the golden crown that is the Cornucopia, and taps his bicep twice. James does the same. Violet is five tributes to his right, and is pointing discreetly to a cluster of trees closer to her, the trees that mark the beginning of the forest. James nods. Romeo is across, on the other side of the arena, and so is Amelia, so their motions can't be seen.
"Ladies and gentlemen," booms Claudius Templesmith, "Let the Sixty-Eighth Hunger Games begin!"
James winces at the announcement, and then leans forward, ever-so-slightly, so that when he runs off of his plate, he'll be able to get a running start. To his direct left is the boy from District 4, Caesar, who glares at him. James glares back, and drags his thumb against his throat. Caesar pales for a moment, and quickly glances away.
James racks his brain for his strategy. Run to Cornucopia, get axe, get backpack, run to Violet.
Cornucopia.
Axe.
Backpack.
Violet.
Run.
He racks his head over and over and over until he thinks he's ready.
James leans forward some more, and the gong sounds.
The Sixty-Eighth Hunger Games have just begun.
Yay, Chapter Five, and a cliffhanger! Ironically, I said this was going to be a short chapter, but it turned out to be the longest chapter yet, clocking in at 5,750 words (Excluding this little bit, of course). I had been planning what James had to say in the interview from the get-go when I started this story, and I feel like it does a lot to highlight who James is as a character. James' frustration was also highlighted, as seen when he was in the shower. Next chapter will include the Cornucopia bloodbath and maybe the day after, I'm not gonna say. Anyway, thanks for reviewing and favoriting, and I'll see you in the next chapter!
Reviews:
polkadotdoughnut: Thanks so much for your support! To answer why Johanna isn't in the story: Johanna was said to have won the 71st Hunger Games, which of course happens three years after this story's origin. Blight is the only canon District 7 victor at this moment, so that's why Johanna isn't in the story: She's not a victor at this point in time.
-C