Updated as of June 18th, 2021.
Hi! I'm back! Hello!
Sorry this took so long!
ONTO THE STORY!
Disclaimer: I don't own The Hunger Games. At all. Don't know how anyone could get the idea that I would.
FLASHBACK TO LAST CHAPTER
"I'm good, Hive. I think I did more damage to her than she actually did to me, actually. Though, it did feel like she was trying to rip my hair out of my head earlier. That's what hurts the most, I think," she said, the words almost tripping over themselves trying to get out. Hive's face relaxed and a hint of a smile flitted across his bird-like lips. He turned to me, his eyes brightening a fraction as he smiled sincerely at me.
"Thank you, for what you did up there," he said quietly, his eyes saying more than his words ever could.
"Alright, listen up! Let's get ready for round two! Gregory Frimmel and Faren Sovers are up next! Begin!"
"Ten! Match over!" Coach Atala called out, causing the District 1 male tribute to hop off the District 9 girl in victory.
I shook my head, figuring she was probably one of the few tributes he could have taken down with his bare hands. I'd wanted to give him the benefit of the doubt, but I couldn't. He was an idiot, maybe even more so than his female counterpart, and the other Careers seemed to notice. They didn't whoop or shout to congratulate him on his win. They only stood there, acting bored as they looked anywhere but him. He took no notice, of course, as he arrogantly swaggered over to his district partner, who just now seemed to realize her darling Finnick wasn't cheering nearly as much as she was.
"She had no chance! It wasn't a fair match!" Klew whispered harshly, glaring at the back of Atala's head in anger.
"Welcome to the Hunger Games, may the odds be ever in your favor," I replied cooly, not missing the fleeting look a shock on her face. It was the bitter truth, and if she couldn't handle that, she might as well kiss her chances of winning goodbye.
"Alright, tributes! This ends the sparring sessions for today. We will pick this back up tomorrow. Until then, you are all dismissed!" Coach Atala called, causing some of the more skittish tributes to up and scatter to the doors.
Silently, I began walking toward the doors too, somehow slipping past Klew and Hive without their knowledge. Fractured thoughts cluttered my mind as I retreated into myself. Why now? Why did they have to surface now? I'd thought for sure I had locked those memories away, so that I would never have to worry about the nightmares that came from them. I should have expected that my stubborn brain wouldn't let me forget forever.
"Stay away from me!" A feminine voice hissed from somewhere in the hallway, breaking me out of my inner musings instantly. "Why can't you get it through your thick skull? You mean nothing to me. If you don't leave me alone right now, I can promise you'll be the first person I kill in the Arena!"
A soft, broken sob sounded off as soon as the person stopped talking. My brow furrowed and I tip-toed closer to where it had come from, hiding behind a small jut in the wall as I listened closely.
"Don't bother sitting near me at lunch. You'll only make yourself look even more pathetic," the one voice hissed again, causing whomever she was talking to to whimper.
I watched blankly as the girl from District 7 came from around the corner and stalked to the lunchroom, her face dark with anger. A few sniffles echoed from where she had come, the District 7 male shuffling into view. He looked devastated, tears spilling down his face as he stared after his sister. He wiped his nose on his sleeve, hiccupping as he tried to pull himself together. Keeping his head down, he began walking after her, tears still brimming in his dark green eyes.
My heart went out to the poor boy, but I quickly snatched it back before it got too close. No matter what my heart wanted, my head knew that if I tried to help all the younger, weaker tributes here I would only put myself at a disadvantage. If I wanted to win, they would have to die. It was simple knowledge. But even so, this didn't stop me from empathizing with the sad boy. I really hoped I wouldn't have to be the one to end his life.
You don't want to end anyone's life, Laurel.
The cafeteria was just as quiet as I expected. The only tributes inside it were the ones who would rather become the wallpaper than be subjected to the hungry looks of the Careers, who I could hear approaching behind me. It seemed the cafeteria was self-serve instead of the Avoxes we had on our floors, but I didn't mind. In fact, I liked this way better. Briefly, my mind flittered to the Avox from before, but I dismissed it and went to the food spread. Is he really who I think he is? Was that even possible?
No. Just get your food and find a seat, a voice commanded in my head. So I did.
I chose the table farthest from the door to camp out. While it limited my escape options if it came to that, it allowed me to have a full view of the room, eliminating the possibility of someone sneaking up behind me. Maybe it was the huntress in me being paranoid, but I just didn't feel like I could trust any of the people in here, no matter how helpless they pretended to be.
The Careers strode through the lunchroom doors acting like they already owned the place, as to be expected. Glimmer alternated between fawning over Finnick and Cato, her mouth curled into what I'm guessing she expected to be a sensual smile, but it just fell flat, not that anybody noticed. It never turned out to be the look she meant to achieve, but I suppose something could be said for my being able to guess what she was going for. It was almost sad that neither one of the male tributes seemed to even notice her existence. I snorted at her attempts to make herself the center of their attention, barely missing the questioning look the District 4 male aimed at me as if he somehow heard me.
"You don't mind if we sit with you, do you?" Klew asked suddenly, appearing as if out of nowhere in front of me, Hive right beside her. So much for being able to watch the entire room.
"No, it's fine," I said automatically, waving for them to take a seat as my gaze slid back to the doorway, swallowing hard when I met the quiet gaze of my district partner. Klew smiled brightly and eagerly pulled out the chair next to me, Hive sitting next to her.
"Wow, you've got a lot on your tray!" She suddenly exclaimed, directing my attention back to her. I looked down at my platter, finding nothing wrong with its completely covered face. I'd only grabbed a small dollop of all the things available for the taking, but I guess I hadn't realized how much that would add up when all put together on one plate.
"Isn't the food here great? Much better than what we have back at our district, right, Hive?" She continued, brushing off my thoughtful silence as if it were nothing. Hive nodded, taking a couple tentative bites as he nervously glanced around at the other tributes.
"Yeah, it's really good," I replied, putting on a smile as I too began eating. Klew's smile faltered as she looked at me, her brow pinching in confusion as she set her fork down.
"Hey, are you okay? You seem distracted," she asked softly, her amber eyes darkened with worry. I swallowed down the bite of food in my mouth and looked at her in surprise.
"Yeah, I'm fine. You don't have to worry about me like that," I reassured her, a little uncomfortable to be on the receiving end of someone's care. Her eyes clouded with doubt, but after a moment of analyzing my expression she dropped it. Smiling yet again, she turned to Hive and began chattering about what had gone through her mind when she was in her sparring session, reassuring him that he would do well on his match if it were to be tomorrow.
My eyes scanned across the room, taking note of where all of the tributes were located. Most were scattered across the many tables, looking like lonely and lost sheep as they sat alone. The Careers had pulled together two tables in the middle of the room to support them all, already laughing obnoxiously loud at whatever they were saying to each other. It was almost worrisome how much they all laughed.
They offhandedly reminded me of a wolf pack amidst a field of sheep, just waiting for the right opportunity to strike.
"So, are you nervous for your session, Laurel?" Klew inquired, turning away from Hive to look at me. I blinked and faced her, feeling as though I had come out of a daze.
"There's nothing for me to be nervous about," I replied immediately, my mind wandering back to the flashbacks I had suffered earlier. Klew gasped, setting her fork down on her now empty plate as her eyes widened in curiosity.
"Are you some sort of hidden expert at hand-to-hand combat or something? That'd be so cool!" She unexpectedly exclaimed, her eyes glued to my face as I balked at her words.
"No, of course not. I'm just not nervous about my sparring session. It's not like they'll let us kill each other before we get into the Arena, so I pretty sure I won't be hurt too bad," I lied smoothly, pushing the memories away to keep my face as collected as possible.
"Oh," she responded, looking a little crestfallen but still upbeat at the same time. "Well, that's okay. I wonder who you'll get matched up with…"
A loud ringing filled the room, causing everyone to stop eating, pick up their trays and dump them before scurrying out the doors. Klew sighed and picked up her tray, glancing at me when I didn't get up right away.
"Aren't you coming?" She smiled, Hive already back from dumping his tray. I nodded mutely, picking up my tray and following her to the trash disposal.
"Well, I think I'm going to count this as a successful training day," Klew told me over her shoulder, a smile spreading easily on her face as she put her tray with the other used ones. I nodded, for some reason feeling antsy to get out of the lunchroom.
"Klew, I think Beetee and Wiress wanted us to be back as soon as we finished eating," Hive mumbled, his dark hair falling in his face as he toed the ground. Klew gasped, as if just remembering, and gripped the surprised boy's arm, already leading him through the doors.
"This isn't the last you've seen of us, Laurel! We'll be back!" She cackled over her shoulder at me, grinning from ear to ear. Hive sheepishly waved to me as he was dragged out the door, already used to Klew's eccentric behavior. Maybe they'd known each other from back in their district.
A shoulder came into solid contact with mine, almost knocking me off-balance with the force behind it. Glimmer sneered in disgust at me, her eyes glittering dangerously as she stuck her nose in the air and continued on her way, her district partner right beside her.
"Seam rat," she jeered as she meandered out the doorway, earning a short laugh from her partner. I glared murderously at her back, losing my cool for a moment as I let my anger get the better of me. She had no right to call me such things. Absolutely no right. Besides, was that seriously her only insult? Does she even know what it means?
But what could I do about it? I was a Seam rat. The poorest of the poor. The weakest of the weak. Every year our tributes were one of the first to die in the bloodbath. Every year. Our district had only won the Hunger Games twice, and only one of the two victors was still among the living. The odds were most certainly not in my favor, or Emery's.
Emery…
"Ignore her. She's all bark and no bite," a smooth, masculine voice interrupted my reverie abruptly. I startled and turned to this new voice, only to be met with sun-kissed skin and earnest, sea-green eyes. He smiled, his pearly white teeth contrasting interestingly with his tanned skin.
"Finnick Odair of District 4," I acknowledged, wondering how deep in thought I must have been for him to sneak up on me.
"Yes, that would be me," he nodded, chuckling lightly as his eyes glittered with amusement. "It's nice to know you've been paying attention."
I shrugged, not really sure how to handle his easy-going approach to the conversation. He was a Career, an attractive one at that. Why was he conversing with me?
"It's better to know the competition than to be in the dark," I decided to say, thinking that it would be one of the safest things I could say not to tick the guy off. I already had one Career ready to kill me, I was pretty sure I didn't want two.
"Smart," he murmured, his eyes searching my face intensely.
"You know, you're exactly how I expected you to be," he said, his smile returning full-force. My brow furrowed and I stared at him, not quite getting what he was trying to say. He took a step closer to me, making me uncomfortable with the new lack of personal space between us. He brushed a stray piece of hair out of my face, causing me to immediately freeze up, take a sharp breath in and look at him in suspicion, my hands balling into tight fists as I mentally prepared to defend myself.
"It's a good thing," he continued sincerely, his sparkling green eyes crinkling at the corners with a soft smile spreading on his lips.
"Finnick!" A female voice suddenly called, causing the District 4 tribute to drop his hand and take a step back, subsequently allowing me to breathe. Most of the other Careers had already gone ahead, eager to get back to their rooms.
He turned his head to the open doors, his expression hardening as he nodded briefly at whoever was waiting for him in the hallway. Sighing, he turned back to me, his face softening back to that boyish charm he used to play the crowds wherever he went. Well, his magic (or whatever people call it) wouldn't work on me.
"Well, it's been fine meeting you and all, but I have to go. See you later," I said as calmly as I could, wincing mentally when it came out cold. His eyebrows pinched together as he looked at me in confusion, as if he were genuinely baffled with my not very appreciative attitude towards him.
He frowned almost sadly as I walked past him to the doors, his eyes clouding like he were asking himself what he did wrong. I continued walking, not even surprised to see the blonde from 1 waiting impatiently for her golden boy. Her eyes narrowed when she saw me, but I didn't even acknowledge her as I continued forth, keeping my head held high. I closed my eyes when I finally made it into an elevator. After pressing the number twelve button, I leaned against the back wall of the small carrier, leaning my head forward so that my hair covered my face. I couldn't wait to get back to my room and lay down in my bed, Luke and Lily curling on either side of me–
I sighed as I remembered that I wasn't going to my room, at least, not my actual room. A sob welt up in my throat. I really wanted to go home. The only thing I would have to worry about there is if I gathered enough food for the families. Death wouldn't be looming over me as heavily as it did now. Every day that passed was a day closer to my ultimate demise, and a day farther away from the life I once lived.
That thought alone was enough for me to lose a little control and let the sob out. It felt good, but I didn't dare let myself continue. I was supposed to be strong, to be the one people could depend on when times were tough. Besides, I was one floor away from my own. How would I explain my tears to Haymitch? Or Effie? Or Emery…
I swallowed back the rest of the sobs the elevator let out a quiet ding and the doors glided open, revealing the twelfth floor to my tired eyes. I casually strolled out and headed for my room, hoping not to see anyone on my way. I just wanted to lie down and blank out, daydreaming of the days back in District 12.
But of course Haymitch would be waiting for me in the hallway, thwarting any plans I made in my head.
I stopped where I was, the elevator's doors gliding closed behind me. We sized each other up in silence, neither saying a word as we examined. He held a good sized flask in his hand, the cap undone as if he had just taken a drink. His eyes were calculating, narrowing as they ran up and down my frame.
"I see you didn't take part in the sparring today," he commented, holding the flask to his lips to allow the liquid inside access to his mouth.
"No, my name wasn't called," I responded, offhandedly thinking how Emery's hadn't been called either. He nodded, a thoughtful look crossing his aged face. I suppose at one point he could have been considered handsome, but those days had sailed into the sunset quite a while ago. If he had actually been the drunk everyone thought he was, his belly would be twice the size as it was now.
"That's what I was told," he paused, the thoughtful look remaining. At first I felt taken aback wondering if I voiced the belly thing instead of thinking it, but then remembered that the actual conversation was about the sparring sessions.
"Come with me," he suddenly stated, motioning for me to follow him as he walked towards a door I hadn't noticed before. Knowing it would be better to comply rather than head to my room like I wanted, I followed him.
The door he went through led to a set of stairs that led either upwards or downwards, which confused me slightly. Did this mean all the floors were connected, and that tributes could come and go as they pleased? What about the bloodthirsty tributes, who couldn't wait to kill somebody? The thin veil of security I felt in my room vanished as I realized that the door hadn't been locked either.
"Hurry up," he grunted as he rushed up the stairs, surprisingly fast. I complied silently, feeling unnerved now that I had all this new information.
At the end of the flight of stairs was another door, which was unlocked as well. Haymitch gestured for me to go through it, his stormy grey eyes reminiscent of Emery's. I did as he bid, my eyes widening at the view he presented me with.
"The roof," I murmured, gazing out into the Capitol horizon. Haymitch merely nodded and leaned against the door frame.
I walked over to the edge and peered down below at the streets that were filled with excitement. All the Capitol people were celebrating even though the actual games hadn't started yet. The artificial neon colors of their clothing hurt my eyes, nearly making them water from their overt brightness. How could they stand being in such clothing?
"I discovered the way up here during my Games," came Haymitch's gruff voice from behind me. "Seems the idiots here still haven't learned to put better locks after twenty-four years."
I whipped around, eyes wide as I stared at in him disbelief. He paused, taking in my alarm sluggishly until he finally put two-and-two together. He rolled his eyes, waving away my concern like it was nothing.
"Relax kid, they can't hear us up here, otherwise I woulda been 'taken care of' years ago," he explained, only succeeding in raising my eyebrows. He ignored me, his eyes becoming distant as he looked down at the ground. He took a step back, making me tense and to prepare myself to charge him.
"I've never taken a tribute up here with me before, ya know. They've never really seemed to care about their fate. They were too scared to stand up, to fight." He stopped himself, almost seeming to sober up in that small pause. Clarity came back into his stormy grey eyes and he looked up at me, a solemn expression on his gruff face.
"But you, you'll fight. You have the passion, the need, the fire, that not one of the other tributes before you have had. It's up to you now to determine whether you use it to your advantage or not. You aren't here to make friends, you're here to win. Don't forget that, alright?"
We watched each other in silence, the only sound being a faint chiming coming from close by. He nodded, shifting his eyes to the horizon as he debated with himself. Shaking his head, he turned to leave, stopping a moment to look over his shoulder at me.
"Don't stay up here too late. Effie'll throw a fit if you do, and I doubt either of us wants that to happen," he said in mock seriousness before stepping further into the darkened doorway.
"Hey," I called, surprising both of us by speaking up. He paused and looked over his shoulder again, one eyebrow raised in impatience.
"Thanks, Haymitch, for everything," I forced out, watching him closely for a reaction. He merely nodded, a wry smirk worming its way onto his stubbly face. And then, he walked away, the door closing with a soft thud.
The chiming noises filled the air, seeming to envelope me with their music. We didn't have much music in District 12. We had to make our own with what we had. That's why we rarely had dances back home. It took a while to scrounge up enough money for the cheapest supplies we could afford to build them, and even then they don't last very long. I'd only ever heard my mother play a violin, and it was so old the strings could have snapped at any given moment. I bit my lip as the warm memories of my family gathering in our small little shanty to listen to my mother play came to the forefront of my mind. She hadn't played since my father lost his arm.
I sat on the ledge and looked out, basking in the Capitol's cheap imitation of glowing. My lip twitched as I watched all of the naive people dance and laugh as twenty-four children were being prepared for slaughter. Now I understood Gale's rants when we were out in the woods. Katniss and I never took him too seriously, neither thinking half the things he said were true. Well, now I was reconsidering. These people were animals.
Soon enough, the sun began to set. For the people of the Capitol, that meant it was time to ramp their partying up a notch. For me, it meant it was time to go. So, I got off the ledge and made my way to the door, keeping myself on-guard just in case I bumped into anyone. Luckily, though, nothing of the sort happened, and I managed to get back to my floor in one piece.
Voices flooded towards me from the dining room, Effie's high-pitched squeal and Haymitch's gruff rumble the easiest to identify. I tip-toed my way towards my room, opening and shutting it as quietly as I possibly could. Once I was safely inside I let out a deep breath and leaned my forehead against the door.
Someone cleared their throat behind me, causing my eyes to immediately pop back open and for my back to stiffen. My hands clenched into fists and I braced myself, a subconscious reaction from all the years I'd rather not relive. Whipping around, I widened my stance, my eyes locking onto the face of my ambusher.
Portia sat at the edge of my bed, a humorous smile playing at her black lipstick-stained lips. I instantly stood up straight, rubbing my arm sheepishly as I realized how much I overreacted. It's not like just anyone could get into my room. She chuckled and smoothed down her expensive-looking skirt, beckoning me over to her with her free hand.
I walked slowly over to her, opting to sit in the chair by my desk and face her.
"Hello, Portia," I greeted good-naturedly.
"Hello, Laurel. What have you been up to?" She replied, quirking a thin eyebrow as she watched me. My mind went back to the roof and it's bittersweet freedom, but I pushed that from my mind in order to focus on Portia.
"Stealing moments to my self, nothing too exciting. But what about you? Not that I mind your company or anything, but could you tell me what you are doing in my room?" I asked. She paused, glancing at my face as if I didn't say what she expected me to. The odd reaction was fleeting, but I still caught it.
"We didn't get to talk much this morning, so I just wanted to check up on you. How was your first day of training?"
"It went okay," I answered, my thoughts racing back to the random flashbacks I'd had. She didn't need to know about those. Well, she really didn't need to know about any of it. Why was she asking? "We spent most of the time at skill stations. Then, Coach Atala announced that we were allowed to spar with the other tributes one-on-one, which I thought was-"
"You what?" She interrupted quickly, blanching. My brow furrowed and I examined her expression in confusion.
"We started sparring with the other tributes today," I slowly repeated. Her eyes widened and she shot to her feet, taking a few steps towards me with her imploring gaze.
"You are physically fighting the other tributes? Before the Games?" She asked, her voice rising.
"Yeah, I'm pretty sure that's what sparring is all about, Portia," I deadpanned, my body tensing as it registered her panic.
Portia paused her frantic motions before they could reach their peak, her entire body freezing as her eyes began darting around. Something clicked in her head, and with it all tension left her body. I looked at her incredulously as my brain struggled to process why she was acting the way she was. Haymitch hadn't reacted this way, in fact he knew it was going on. My suspicion level was rising and I began examining Portia in a more reserved light.
"I'm sorry, I overreacted. It isn't my place to talk about what goes on in the Training Center. I'm sure they're running it exactly the way they're supposed to," she explained with a laugh, returning to her normal behavior as if her little burst of uncontrollable worry hadn't happened.
"That's okay, I know you mean well," I responded distantly, my hands balling into fists on reflex. I quickly made them uncurl before she noticed. She nodded enthusiastically and smiled in relief.
"Good. Well, I better be off before our dinner is served. I have a few things to get done for your next outfit before I eat." Portia nodded at me and left, leaving me all alone in my temporary room.
I stared after her, doubt settling itself into my head. Portia had acted really... off, and it made the small pocket of trust I'd given to her wane. The feelings that she stirred up in me made me feel scared, like I had already entered the Arena. Like I couldn't trust anyone. Perhaps it was a wake-up call. My own behavior towards my fellow tributes had become much friendlier than I had originally intended. I'd never really been in a situation like this before. I wasn't even a trusting person to begin with. Not like I used to be.
My inner turmoil was interrupted with a knock at my door, followed by a low voice that muttered that dinner was ready. I frowned, disappointed that I hadn't gotten to change or clean myself or anything yet. Sighing, I made my way to the door and let myself out, padding silently down to the dining room with bare feet. I had to act like the encounter hadn't fazed me, otherwise someone would wonder what was going on. And if I was being honest, I didn't really know either. Maybe I was just overreacting, maybe I wasn't.
As I got closer to the dining room those thoughts were pushed into the back of my mind, and I focused on the present. Besides, it's not like what I told Portia was significant.
My lips pursed as I hesitated, but I shook it off, continuing on to go and eat.
A/N: Hello everyone! Things will hopefully get rolling more next chapter, and maybe we'll get Emery to stop being so broody and Laurel to stop being so stubborn so they can make up. All in good time, I suppose.
Shout-outs to these fine reviewers for reviewing last chapter: cutegirlems, Lovely Lexus, TheLittlePervert, XxSayaKeikokuRyuuxX, PsychDemise, Guest, ghg, Wolf9lucky, Mmeggy999, and Chloe BHAFC!
And welcome, all the new silent watchers, to the party! I salute all of you and your silent-ness for your work.
I'm not promising when the next chapter will be out, but yes, I will continue the story. Take hope in that if you start having doubts.
Alright then. I think we are done here for now.
Wait!
I hope you all had a great Hallow's Eve! And your stomachs don't hurt too badly from the candy you may or may not have eaten!
Okay. I'm done now.
Bye-Bye~