So here's the next chapter. Sorry it took a while again, but- you've guesses it- I had a load of tests and things (the other story I wrote got an A*!) but yesterday was the first day of summer, so now I'll have plenty of free time to write the next chapters, so hopefully they'll be done quicker. I've already written a bit of the next chapter. So anyway, thank you so much to GizzyGirl, gabz1197, and whoever sent that anonymous review. Please check out their channels guys! So yes, I don't own the Hunger Games, and let's get on with the story...
"What on earth did you think you were doing?" Effie screams. "Do you want to get killed?"
"Give her a break Effie, you've been going on for ages-"
"No I will not give her a break, do you know how much trouble she's in?"
I'm back in our room. I thought that being here would bring me some peace and quiet; a chance to calm down, but to my dismay, Effie had been watching the cameras; she's seen the whole thing.
"Yes, yes we do." Says Skylar.
"Look, Effie," I say sheepishly. I have never seen Effie this angry before, so truth be told, I'm pretty terrified, "I'm sorry, I didn't mean to-"
"Oh, you didn't mean to?" she says sarcastically, in a quiet voice; it is scarier than when she was shouting, and much more sinister. "You didn't mean to SCREAM IN FRONT OF THE GOVERNMENT AND THE PEOPLE WHO ARE TRYING TO KILL YOU?"
"Effie, what's done is done," says Finnick, placing his hand on her shoulder. "Shouting won't make it any better. We just need to calm down and explain to the Gamemakers what was going on." I give Finnick a grateful smile.
"But this could affect my job." She says sadly. Of course; Effie's only looking out for herself. Typical Capitol citizen. "She could get us all in trouble! I just want to know what was going through her stupid little mind when she decided to say those things-"
"They were laughing about killing people." I say quickly. "They were making fun of my friends." To any normal civilised human being that would have been a pretty reasonable answer. Unfortunately to Effie, it was not.
"You've made friends?" says Skylar quietly. There seems to be a twitch in her eye, but only I notice this. No one listens to her.
"WHAT DID YOU JUST SAY?" screams Effie.
I look down into my lap, trying to avoid her gaze. "I didn't want the games to change me, just because of what they were saying."
"Change you? CHANGE YOU!" she yells. I look up slightly and am shocked by what I see. She looks like a rabid dog; her nostrils are flaring, she's grinding her teeth, she's flinging her arms around. It's not just a dog. I see something else. Someone who looks slightly like me. Someone who was and always will be disapproving of everything I do or say. And it's that that hurts the most.
"OF COURSE IT'S GOING TO CHANGE YOU, YOU STUPID GIRL! IT'S CHANGED EVERYONE. DO YOU THINK OTHER PEOPLE WANT TO DIE? NO! ARE YOU THE ONLY ONE WHO HAS TO PUT UP WITH THIS? NO! DO YOU THINK I WANT THIS JOB? NO! WATHCING KIDS DIE EVERY YEAR; IT'S HORRIBLE,BUT UNLIKE YOU, NONE OF US ARE COMPLAINING, WE'RE DOING WHAT WE'RE TOLD, SO GET OFF YOUR HIGH HORSE AND STOP ACTING LIKE YOU'RE SO SPECIAL!" as soon as she's finished, she realises what she's said. She places her hand over her mouth and starts shaking, frantically looking around for cameras to see if anyone's heard. Skylar quickly goes to make her some tea, and Finnick sits her down on the sofa while she keeps on twitching.
"I don't think I'm special." I say in a very small, sympathetic voice. It's true, I know I'm not, but still, what she's said has shocked me. Turns out it's not just the districts who hate the games, but also the Capitol citizens themselves. Maybe they're too scared to admit that they hate it. But still, it's not like they're dying or anything. It still takes a while for me to wrap my head around it, though.
Effie doesn't reply.
Skylar brings in the tea, and Effie sips it. She takes a few deep breaths, and seems to calm down. She even manages to give me a little smile.
"I want you," she says to me slowly. "To go back into the training centre, go up to the careers, and apologize."
"But-"
"Apologize."
I think about it for a few seconds. On one hand, I'd rather slit my own throat than apologize to those barbaric ********, but on the other hand, I don't want Effie shouting at me again either. I look up to see that everyone's watching me, holding their breath.
I give a small nod. "Alright." Everyone sighs in relief.
"What's going on?" smiles Haven curiously, walking into the room.
"Nothing." I say quickly, and dart past him, shooting back to the training centre. I don't want an earful off him either.
I walk back into the room, and everyone stops and stares, like I'm some kind of freak show. Roll up, roll up to see the amazing angry girl, who's always arguing and screaming! Well at least that would be better than the hunger games.
I realise that that's not the case though. Some of course are looking at me with fear, some disapprovingly, but some with… respect, is it? Admiration? I don't know, but somehow, it makes me smile. The boy from 12 beams at me, and suddenly I want to start crying again. If only he knew.
Out of the corner of my eye, I spot the careers. I don't do anything; I just walk to a station. True, it's not apologizing, but it's not exactly yelling at them either. It's a start.
I just begin practising camouflage, when I hear a familiar voice. "Mind if I train with you?" I looked up to see the same boy from lunchtime giving me a nervous smile.
It didn't take me too much to simply say, "Yes. Yes it does."
"Look, I just think we got off on the wrong start. I'm Jed, your Zara-"
"Paylor. It's Paylor."
"Ok then Paylor, I hope we can be friends."
"Hmm," I grunt. I don't want him here, but I no longer have the energy or the heart to push him away. We train in silence for a while, while I make occasional comments to the woman manning the station. She turns out to be a really nice woman in her mid-50s, and she shows me how to paint the texture of the mud just right, so my arm looks like it's part of a tree. Things are going just fine, but the boy- Jed, I mean, I have to start calling him that now don't I? – Anyway, he disturbs it by saying:
"I just want to say, what you did during lunch-"
"Oh God, don't remind me, that was a really stupid thing to do, even for me-"
He rolls his eyes. "It wasn't stupid. It was brave."
"Brave?" I repeat. The word tastes nice on my tongue, especially since I've never been called that before.
"I was actually wondering when you were going to do that."
"Oh," I say, realising, "you knew I was crazy because of that argument on the train-"
He laughs a little, which sounds nice, even if it is a little patronizing. "No, because you don't seem a career type."
"Was that supposed to be an insult?"
He smirks. "Well, you have just ruined your biggest chance of winning."
In decide to stay on top of things, so I give myself a silly voice, and say, "well, you know me. I'm way to indie to stick to the trends. I'm a hipster." He shakes his head and smiles.
"So, how did it go?"
It's later that night. I'm back in the room, eating dinner with everyone else. Garter's in the shower, so therefore he won't be hearing this conversation. "How did what go?" I ask, pushing my food around on my plate.
"You know," continues Finnick. He quickly looks around to make sure Garter hasn't appeared out of the soup or something, but we can still hear the water running. He still says the next bit more quietly: "You apologising to the others. How did it go?" Effie seems to give a little twitch at this. After her outburst yesterday, she knows it's better to keep her mouth shut or she could be arrested. However, although she's trying her best to act nonchalant it's pretty obvious that she's put him up to this.
"Oh!" I say, putting my fork down. "Well, umm…" they're all looking at me expectantly. I have a feeling they won't be too pleased with the true answer. "Err….they… they" I stammer, shoving food into my mouth so it looks like I just have table manners rather than I'm making up a lie on the spot. "They accepted it. Weren't too understanding at first, but we're ok now."
"Oh goodie!" says Effie, clapping her hands. "You're finally staying true to the spirit of the games! So I'm guessing you're allies with them again?"
I decide not to take the lying too far. "Well, no."
Cutlery clatters as the others drop them. "What?" cries Effie. "Why not?"
"I, err…."
"It's because she's got another ally from another district. They're friends now. The Gamemakers told me." Finnick interrupts, chewing on some beef. Suddenly, there's a scrape of a chair as Skylar gets up and walks from the room. I stare at her back, confused.
"What's with-"
Finnick shakes his head, shutting me up. "Another time. But for now, I thought I told you not to make an ally!"
"Well, actually," I say defensively, crossing my arms. I want to end this subject now, before it gets ugly. "We're not even allies yet. I wouldn't even say that we were friends. I'm just trying to figure out the enemy and their weaknesses after all." Finnick doesn't look entirely convinced, but gives a grunt and goes back to eating. Effie doesn't say anything for a while, but then pipes up.
"Well, it's better that she has an ally, than not having one at all."
"On another note," interrupts Haven. "Paylor darling, that outfit you're wearing tonight is clashing terribly."
I ignore him.
The next day, Jed and I go around the stations together. I'm quite tired, due to hearing those familiar screams again last night- I wonder who's doing it- but I'll live. Occasionally I joke, and occasionally I snap at him, and vice versa, but we do start talking a lot more, and even though it pains me, we talk a lot about home. I find out that both his parents are loving and kind people who give him hugs and gifts all the time, especially after they lost his little sister from an illness at birth. He chokes a little while he says this, but his expression doesn't change. He likes to play football, and has a lot of friends at school. He also jokes around and says he's quite the thing with the ladies, but you can obviously tell he isn't.
Apart from that last bit, he seems to be the exact opposite of me.
As we go throughout the stations, I make sure not to give him any tips, acting on what Finnick told me. However, when we get to the rope tying station I come across a knot which is particularly hard to do, and after many tries he groans, swears and begins to help me.
"Look," he says, "all you have to do is this." He shows me the correct moves, until I finally begin to get it.
"Thanks." I said, nearly awe inspired on how quickly and nimbly his fingers can tie something.
He still looks annoyed. "Yeah, well, I'm from district 8, right? We spend our whole lives learning how to tie knots." Ah yes, he's from the textiles districts. Tying knots must be his way to make a living or something.
He pauses for a second, but then says, "I would have thought you would have known how to tie a knot."
"What's that supposed to mean?" I ask. I'm not irritated or anything, just curious.
"Well, you're from 4, right? You're always making nets, which involves tying rope together."
"Yeah, but not complicated ones like these." I say enviously, looking at the amazing patterns he's created.
The next thing that comes out of his mouth is muttered so quietly I almost can't hear it, but I manage to catch: "yeah, well, you're a career, aren't you? You're supposed to know this stuff."
I drop my rope. "What?" it's obvious that I've heard exactly what he's said, and he knows it. It's strange, it's just a harmless comment, most people would brush it off. But somehow it really rubs me the wrong way.
He looks me directly in the eye, and says louder, "you're a career. You should know this stuff."
"Well, in case you haven't noticed, I'm not exactly career material, am I?" I hiss. I'm getting annoyed again, but make sure to keep my voice down in fear of getting in trouble again, so I'm practically whispering.
"You still are one though." He says, irritated as well.
"Do you think I want to be one?" Oh my God, I sound like Effie.
"Yeah well, the fact that you're always shouting makes it seem like it, yeah!"
"I'm not shouting!" and it's true, I'm not. I'm just hissing very loudly. "You're the one who started this!"
"Well, at least I don't come from the lapdog district of the Capitol!" He is really testing my patience.
"Is that the best you can come up with? How immature are you? You were the one who came up to me in the first place! So why don't you just go?"
He scowls furiously at me. "Fine then, I will!"
"Fine!"
"Fine!" And he storms off, leaving me alone at the station, glaring at his back. I turn around and carry on tying knots, acting like nothing else has happened. Unfortunately the rope I'm holding decides to pick this very moment to be difficult. I throw it down, do my best to smile at the man helping at the station, and walk as calmly as I can to the next one.
Jed seems to be calm already though, and ten minutes later, he walks right back to where I'm standing. He begins practising with the slingshot silently, looking down at the table, while I stare at him with disbelief.
What is this guy's problem? One minute he's following me around, and the next he hates me! Why is he sticking around if he can't stick me? It's not like I can help him. Unless….
Is he using me? Is he thinking by making friends with a career, I can do all of the work, get killed doing so and then he can wander out of the games as victor without so much as a scratch? Of course he doesn't like me; he just knows he has to be around me. I must admit, it's a clever plan, but then again, two can play at that game.
I'll play along, let him do the work, and let him get killed doing so. Or maybe stab him while he's asleep. I'm hoping for the first option though, because I highly doubt I could ever be able to kill someone. Father would disown me.
Mother of course would be ecstatic.
I put on my best smile, and- wait. He's not trying to act nice or anything, so why should I? My plan is sly; I might as well keep my dignity, so I ditch the smile. Besides, I don't want to be friends with Jed. This guy could never, ever replace Mantis. Still, I cross my arms and ask:
"So basically, I'm guessing due to your crazy behaviour that you're asking for an ally?"
He acts like he hasn't even heard me and he doesn't look up. But after a while he shrugs his shoulders. This obviously means yes.
I'm waiting. Usually when people are waiting, the time goes by so slowly that seconds feel like years. However, time is flashing by for me, and I so don't want it to.
We are all waiting to be called for testing. Our skills will be performed in front of the Gamemakers, and they are going to come up with a score for it. I'm so nervous; my nails have been reduced to nothingness. This is only a test, but I feel that not only am I going into the games, but everyone who's watching will be judging my every move.
Thankfully we don't have to sit in order or anything; we get to lounge about on chairs or the floor. I know that if I would have ever had to sit next to my careers, I would be sure to regret it. They're looking very smug now, knowing that the scores are going to be an 8 at least. Well, maybe not Marilyn, she's just humming quietly to herself and gazing at the ceiling.
Jazz and Starlet aren't talking either. Starlet's face is contorted into a concentrated frown, as if she's planning what to do. She looks so deadly I'm actually starting to worry for the Gamemakers safety. Jazz looks pretty much the same. His right hand is twitching, so I can sense that's he's practising in his mind. But I know his weakness; he's not going to use his left hand in the test or the games, he can't do anything with it. I make a mental note that if I get into a fight with him, to hack his right hand off first. Then at least I'll have some sort of a chance.
Sam and Garter, however, don't even seem bothered. They're sitting ignorantly and arrogantly, showing off, and are talking as loud as anything.
"I bet I'll get an 11 at least!"
"Yeah right, I bet I'll get a 12!"
"Bet you won't, I'm way better than you!"
"You are not!"
"Are to!"
"Are not!"
"Are to!" gosh, immature much? They sound like 5 year olds that you'd see in pre-school for crying out loud. After they've finished that stupid argument Jazz gets called in. the testing has begun. We sit in silence for a while until Starlet is called. Then Garter pipes up again.
"Still," he says. "Whatever we get will be better than everyone else."
"Got that right, but we'll have some competition with Starlet, she's a machine I tell you."
"pfft." Sniggers Garter, "She's a girl. Boys always beat girls, it's practically the law. We're better than girls, and we're better than whatever species Marilyn is." He's not even bothering to keep his voice down, and she's right next to him. Sam seems a little unnerved by this though, and doesn't say anything for a while. He may be awful, but I guess he is human; he'll have to have some sort of pleasant attitude towards his fellow district tribute. Then again, Garter and I don't.
Practically on cue, Garter points to me, while I stare into the corner, acting like he's oblivious to me. "And of course, Paylor will get like a minus 5 or something."
I look over, determined to keep my cool. As this isn't a very irritating comment, I decide to use my wits rather than my temper. "Please, if you're referring to a how fat you are in metres competition, you're comments are highly true."
He stares at me for a moment, confused. Then the realisation dawns on his face and he gives me a scowl. But he got in trouble as well for the argument yesterday, so he keeps his mouth shut. It's not my best insult, but I sense Jed giving a little smile.
I'm sitting next to him, but we're both too anxious to talk. I decide to break the awkward silence though, and say nonchalantly,
"So what do score do you think you'll get?"
He ponders my question for a moment, then shrugs.
"Not sure. I'm hoping for an 8, but I'll probably get around a 6 or something." He's being modest of course.
Nothing else gets said. We sit silently while the tributes from districts 2-3 disappear. The sessions seem to be longer than usual, but to me they're not long enough. The careers walk away without so much as a tremor.
"So what about you?"
"Huh?" I say, I've completely forgotten he was there.
"What score do you think you'll get?"
I manage a little smile, and shrug too. "As long as it's not a negative number, I'm good." He sends a nervous grin back at me.
"Garter Wilde, district 4." Comes a smooth voice. Garter gives a smirk, and swags out of the room, leaving us all shaking behind him. There are only actual sane people in the room now. Well, that's if you count me.
But I think about what Jed has said. What score will I get? I'm sure whatever score I get, it'll be disappointing. My father won't be bothered of course; he never seemed disappointed when I failed to catch any fish back home. But mother will be furious. She'll call me a failure of a daughter, she'll disown me, and she'll- And what about Mantis? Will he be embarrassed about it, or will he be teased for having me as a friend, the first career who got less than a 5 for a score?
And what am I going to show the Gamemakers? I must come up with some sort of plan, like everyone else has or I'll look even more of an idiot out there. While I'm thinking this my hands seem to have gone into a small spasm; my fingers are entwining and untwining themselves with other fingers, one finger nail is always picking at another finger nail, and my feet are twitching too. Why am I so nervous?
Ok, so I'm definitely going for an axe, perhaps the bow and arrow too if I have time. I only have to chuck it at the target a couple of times, it won't be that hard. I just hope my nerves don't ruin it for me. Probably not though, I'm good around people. I'll show them my knowledge of berries and plants, that'll show my survival skills. I just hope it's enough to get me a good score.
Maybe if I do get a bad score people will think I'm bluffing, like Johanna Mason, who acted all weepy and pathetic, until it turned out that she was a real vicious one. However, being in a career district, where no one has ever needed to bluff, it's unlikely that people would believe that approach.
"Zara Paylor, district 4" comes the smooth voice. Oh god, has Garter been and gone already? I stand up, doing my best to look intimidating, and force my feet to walk into the room. I'm greeted by a brand new range of dummies, targets, weapons and survival tools. I can also see the Gamemakers watching me intently. Of course, they want to see what "the crazy angry girl" can do with a weapon.
I swallow. "Zara Paylor, from district 4." I do my best to say in a clear and steady voice, then walk over to the table and grab the axe. They're all leaning forward in their chairs as I take my place in front of the target and throw.
I miss.
I hear some mutters of disappointment and a few sniggers as I close my eyes and want to kick myself. Come on Paylor, you could do this fine during training, quit being such an idiot, I think scornfully to myself. I take the walk of shame to retrieve the axe, take my place, and am just about to try again when a voice startles me:
"Stop! STOP!" I look up in disbelief as a rather chubby Gamemaker waddles down the stairs towards me, carrying some sort of white and blue material. What does he think he's doing, he's wasting my precious testing time!
"Okay, so we've done phase one of the testing." He says. He already seems red in the face and exhausted from that trip to the ground floor.
"Huh?" I ask. Phase one? There have never been any phases before, you just go wild with some weapons and that's it.
Answering the questions in my mind, he says, "this year we're doing something a little differently. Our scientists have come up with a new suit. This suit will be able to genetically modify whomever is wearing it, causing them to take on a feeling which will make them the most hardworking, or the most deadly or vicious, etc. they can possibly be. We designed them for the avoxes, as it appears that beating them still doesn't get them to work hard enough." He seems a little uncomfortable saying this, as if he's said too much, but then he shrugs. It's ok, I'll be dead in a matter of days, I won't tell anyone. "And anyway, we were going to test them on animals, but then we decided: hey, why don't we get the tributes to try them out?" he says with a smile. Yes of course, we're doomed for slaughter anyway; why not make us guanine-pigs while you're at it?
"Now, on to phase two." He finishes, and shoves the material into my hands. Turns out that the material is the suit, so I get a good look at it. It's blue with white lines and circles all over it, which all seem to light up. It looks quite frightening actually, and I don't want to try it on, even if it does make me better with the axe.
"We feel that using this is a more accurate way of seeing the tribute's potential." Says another Gamemaker from up above. "During the games, the tribute will most likely feel the adrenaline rush or the feelings that you will experience in the suit, which will make you more deadly in the games than here." I can almost hear him say, "And judging by your performance, I think you'll need it."
I want to say something, but the first Gamemaker is already shoving me towards the door of a changing room. "Go on then, hurry up and put it on."
Alone in the changing room, I slip it on, which is easier said than done. This must be why the testing sessions are longer; this thing is so hard to get on. Once it is on though, I immediately change my mind about everything bad I've thought about it.
It feels heavenly, like strands of silky air wrapped around my skin. I feel so free and light, I suddenly feel like I'm so bulky and bony that my skin is not worthy to touch it. However, there's one problem. The lights on the suit are flashing, but I don't feel anything. Not one thing. Have I broken it?
I walk out of the changing room, and say nervously, "I, err, don't feel any different." I expect them to start yelling at me, but instead I get a patronizing smile. Somehow this makes me feel even worse.
"That's because it hasn't been turned on yet." Says a Gamemaker with a particularly cool beard. He presses a button, and immediately a thick sheet of glass surrounds them all. Of course, they have to be careful. Someone may become so vicious due to wearing the suit that they may attack the Gamemakers.
"Now don't worry," says the first Gamemaker. "The process is completely painless. The tributes who went before you didn't have any problems during or after the test." This calms me down a little. Finally, they press the button that turns on the suit.
Suddenly, the lights on the suit flash even more brightly, and I feel the sensation of something seeping into my skin. My vision goes blurry for a second, and it feels like bolts of lightning are surging through me, and then-
I am filled with a frenzy of uncontrollable rage.
Great. Just when I thought I had my temper under control.
I glare at the dummies. I feel like they're so stupid, and yet the Capitol values them higher than us tributes. I want to tear those stupid dummies apart, that'll show those ******* Gamemaker ********.
"You want to see me with weapons? Then I'll show you ******* weapons!" I cry at them. In any other case, I would immediately be punching myself in the face and screaming at me to shut up while I await the punishment of the Capitol. But now I'm so angry I don't even care. And strangely enough, the Gamemakers aren't fazed by this at all. They'll have seen this before, no doubt. "Of course, it's obvious," I hear one mutter, "she's powered by anger." But somehow, their understanding only angers me more.
I run over to the weapon table, grab not only the axe but the sword and the knives as well, and line up at the targets, seething at them as if they were my greatest and deadliest enemies.
Let's get this over with.
"So then I took off the suit, and I felt completely normal again!" I'm talking to Finnick as we're making our way to the sofa to watch and see how we've done.
"Yeah, it was so cool!" exclaims Garter. Turns out he's powered by arrogance, which isn't very surprising to me.
"I'm just glad there were no side effects." Says Skylar, as we all sit down. The bright orange sofa is soft and squishy, with silky brown pillows. Popcorn is passed around as Finnick puts the TV on, but I'm too hungry to eat, even though this brand new substance to me is positively delicious.
"I'm surprised they let Paylor wear it," says Haven, shaking his head in disbelief, "it wouldn't have helped her figure in the slightest." I give him a small simpering, understanding smile, but then flip him off when his head has turned the other way. Finnick raises his eyebrows at me, but I see the flicker of a smile.
"I'm sure she looked just fine it, Haven." He says dismissively. Haven scowls.
"But still, how exciting!" cries Effie. "I can't wait until they're in shops; the Avoxes around here really need to pick up the pace a little bit more!" I turn my head to see the only Avox in the room, a small blonde girl who's now looking terrified. I suddenly find that I can't look at her anymore.
"So, what did you guys do in there?" asks Finnick.
"Well," begins Garter excitedly, "I threw the spear a couple of times- and hit the target every time might I add- and used the sword. They were impressed, let me tell you."
"What about you, ginger?" Finnick asks, turning to me.
"She made a fool of herself, no doubt." Sniggers Garter. Haven smiles approvingly, but Skylar frowns and raises her finger to her lips.
"I used-" I begin, but am interrupted when the music starts, and the Capitol emblem flashes upon the screen.
"It's starting, it's starting!" Effie squeals, clapping her hands. As if it isn't obvious.
"Good evening, Panem!" Cries Caesar Flickerman, with a big smile. "So, you've seen the reaping, you've seen the training, and you've seen the chemistry between the tributes. So now for the moment you've all been waiting for, it's time to show the scores! Are you excited, Claudius?"
"You bet I am, Caesar, we finally get to see what these kids are made of!" he too has an equally cheesy grin.
"Now of course, these scores could affect the games and the tributes very much so."
"Yes, it can get you loads of sponsors-"
"Or it can make you the biggest threat, therefore, the biggest target."
"Just remember, someone may be bluffing!"
"Yes, they may be doing what young Johanna Mason did a couple of years back, so don't take the scores too literally!"
"Yes, anyway, I know that the testing sessions are meant to be a secret, but there seems to be a lot of rumours going around about this year's ones."
"Yes, I know what you're talking about, Claudius my boy, while getting ready I heard a lot of whispering about some kind of new suit!"
"Blimy, so did I!"
"Yes, it's very fishy indeed, and I'm not talking about the salmon that the chefs are making for me now." Good older Flickerman, always there to make a joke.
"So we seem to be babbling now, let's waste no more time and see what the scores are!" everyone in the room leans forward in anticipation.
"So, first of all, Jazz Sampson from district 1!" a picture of him flashes upon the screen.
"Oooh, he's done very well!"
"Well, no doubt, I mean he's a career isn't he?"
"Well he's definatly career material, he's got an 11!" the number 11 flashes underneath his photo in silver letters.
"He's one to beat." I hear Finnick mutter under his breath.
The rest of the show goes on pretty much like that. The tribute's photo is shown, Caesar and Claudius both make a small comment, and the score is revealed. Starlet gets a 9, Sam receives a 10, and unfortunately for her Marilyn becomes the first career to ever get a 5. Caesar is a little disappointed by this, and I can sense that her mentor is too. Garter gives a smirk, and I can't help feeling sorry for the poor girl. Still, it's better than the district 3 girl, who only got a 2.
"Next is Garter Wilde, from district 4."
"He's a fighter, isn't he?"
"Yeah, he and his fellow district 4 don't seem to be too fond of each other."
"Anyway, let's see what he's got!" a number 10 flashes upon the screen.
Skylar smiles and Finnick gives him a clap on the back. Garter, however, seems annoyed that he hasn't had the highest score so far. "I should have got an 11 at least." He mutters.
"Don't be silly, a 10 is amazing!" Effie cries.
"Yeah, people will just want to kill Jazz more now, giving you more of a chance." Says Finnick. This seems to satisfy Garter, so he gives me a smug look that says I can't wait to see how badly you've done. I almost can't wait either, the tension is killing me.
"So now we have another district 4 tribute, Zara Paylor!"
"She's an interesting one, isn't she?"
"Yes, she doesn't seem to be teaming up with the other careers, you have to admit that's odd!" back home mother won't find it odd, she'll find it infuriating.
"Hmm, maybe it's just part of her tactics or something."
"Let's hope that she has the skill to be able to do that!" he looks at the score sheet. "Wow…this is very rare…" I prepare myself for the worst as the number flashes upon the screen.
You can hear a pin drop.
My score isn't a 10.
It isn't a 3.
It isn't a 7.
It's a 12.
So there you have it, we've had a proper conversation with Jed now! Oh, and about the suit. I know it isn't very realistic, but hey, this is a fanfiction! And I must admit the description does make it sound like a suit from TRON, which is why I swapped the colours around. Anyway, I hope you liked this chapter, please favorite, review, share and subscribe! If you do, you'll get a shout out in the next chapter! Thank you so much for all of your support, see you soon!
Love, Lucy