CHAPTER FOUR: INTRODUCING, BRELEN
I'm not scared of you, Glimmer.
His words sting the back of my head almost as much as Opal Evenings calling my name for the Reaping. I don't understand, really. I try to decipher the meaning behind that remark. Is he trying to make me scared of him? Is he just stating his opinion in a non-offensive way? Is he giving me a hint that I am dead meat in the arena?
I don't know.
But what I do know is that I have to train hard, work hard so he is scared of me. That his spear-throwing doesn't compare to my perfect aimed arrows.
My thoughts are interrupted by a tall man, who walks into my room without knocking. His dark hair is shaggy, divulging a much needed visit to the barber. His suit is nice-Capital material-but very furrowed. His eyes make you, in an instance, wish that you could stare at them and try to figure out what color they actually are.
"The name's Brelen," he says. I stare, so he clears his throat and continues. "And I am your mentor for the Hunger Games, unfortunately."
Brelen Staples. I make the connection inside my head and realize that this man was the victor when he was seventeen years old, a few years after Roselyn's aunt Cashmere won. He looks different from the dashing seventeen-year-old I have seen in pictures and videos, but you can still see that they are indeed the same person.
"Of course," I finally say. "My name is Glimmer Hart." I extend my hand.
He stares at it for a while then puts his hands behind his back.
"Let me start off our relationship by saying that we are not friends. We never will be…friends. I am simply here to mentor you and tell you that the arena is hell. I am excited for the entertainment it will be, on my part, however. On your part, I am terribly sorry, but if they chose the mentor based off of encouragement, they shouldn't have chosen me."
How nice. They have picked a mentor with a bad attitude for me and Marvel. Speaking of Marvel, he walks in just in time to meet his mentor.
"I am here only because of you, Mr. Staples." He says dryly.
"Call me Brelen," he says shortly. "We have much to talk about. First off, I am sorry for you two kids, probably dying in the arena by next week."
"We are Careers. We don't die. I'm winning this year…I am." Marvel says stubbornly, and then shoots a much scheming face my direction. "All this training and interview practicing my mom has forced upon me will not be used for nothing."
"What about you?" Brelen asks me, ignoring Marvel's usual rude comments. He lifts his eyebrows, listening for my response.
"Well," I smile. "Truthfully, I am flattered to be here. In the Capital? Why, what a dream come true. The arena…" my eyes grow big enthusiastically. "…another dream-anyways, let's just say that this is the best thing that's ever happened in my…unfortunate life." Even though most of my life has been great, I try to beat Marvel's comment. Then I crack a cheesy joke and I see a smile crawl onto Brelen's face for the first time.
"I may like you," Brelen says. "If I like you, then that means the people will definitely like you. And that means sponsors. But then again, sponsors aren't the main thing. The main thing is to kill off as many people as you can, form a Career group maybe…kill everyone else and then kill each other. That's all the advice for now. All of this…mentoring makes my head hurt." And with that, he grabs a brownie from my food table and leaves.
"Sponsors…allies…that's some good advice," Marvel shrugs. "But I have better ideas," He heads for the door, but I stop him.
"Like what?"
"Like not letting you know them." And he leaves.
I collapse on the couch, awfully tired, and turn on the TV. They are doing a re-cap of the Reapings and guessing who they think would win.
"Well, let's take a look at District Two's tributes," says the reporter.
It shows two people on the screen now. There's a cute (I mean really cute) tall guy with blonde hair and intense eyes. And then there's a shorter dark-haired girl with freckles. Cato and Clove, they are labeled and they look strong and powerful. Not to mention Cato looks very attractive in his District Two uniform. Maybe they'd make good allies. Maybe Brelen was right and Marvel was wrong.