Xyris's P.O.V

To say that the crowd don't understand Zeph is an understatement.

He doesn't say much to Caesar, and sits in such an awkward way, as if he is contemplating jumping up out of his seat at any moment. He doesn't get cheers like me, just a customary applause when he returns back to his seat. Whilst he was talking about a trivial aspect of wiring computers, he kept on looking over at where I was sat. Every time he did, I looked down quickly because I did not want to meet the eyes of a boy who was most likely going to die a terrible death.

Once he returns to his seat, he sighs and raises his fingers back up to his temple. Returning to his thoughts, his forehead crinkled again like it always was.
The first time I had met Zeph was not at the reaping, as people from the Capitol always seem to think. We're from the same district, after all, and he went to the same school as me for a while. We're around about the same age, 15, and live in roughly the same area.
Zeph was a child genius. He flew through school twice as fast as anyone else, and as a result made little friends. Once he had finished school, with grades unparalleled by any student to be taught there, he was immediately enrolled into the factories as an inventor and repairs technician. And I never really saw him again after that, as he was either working or hidden inside his house, away from people in general. My father had met him a couple times to get advice on his inventions. He said Zeph was a nice boy.

It's a shame the Capitol is going to force him to murder people.

The rest of the interviews are nothing special, unfortunately. After the first couple of interviews, the more interesting Career ones, the audience gets bored and chatters away between themselves. It's sad really. Those outer districts have no chance of getting sponsored.

I don't like the idea of getting to know people that will be trying to kill me this time tomorrow, so instead of paying attention to the tributes being interviewed, my mind wanders back to the previous Games that was aired last year. It was a particularly nasty one according to my father, who has been alive since the Games have begun. The arena was set in what appeared to be a mountainous region, with only saltwater lakes as a water source. The Cornucopia was situated in a steep valley between the two largest mountains, and tributes had to fight each other for the numerous bottles of water placed there that were safe to drink. The only animals that weren't poisonous to eat were the fish swimming in the lakes, so it was no surprise that District 4 won. A girl, a year older than me, 15 at the time, who created fish hooks out of twigs, was the victor.

The two District 3 tributes died on the first day.

Once the interviews are finished, me and Zeph are ushered back onto our floor of the Training Centre, and given words of advice by our excitable escort, Gabriel Tweet.
"Now you go out there, and keep your heads held high!" He chirps. "Let's make this Hunger Games a victory for District Three!" And with that, he gives us both crippling hugs and bounds away, leaving me and Zeph alone in the room.

Zeph returns to his place on the couch and sits, staring at the wall in front of him with his brow furrowed. I take a seat next to him, being careful not to get too close. I close my eyes and try not to think about the horrors that await us both tomorrow.

Suddenly, Zeph speaks. I jump slightly as his voice is sharp and precise, and at the fact that he has never spoken to me alone before.

"We should be allies." Is all he says. I turn to face him, expecting him to be staring at the wall still, but instead his eyes are boring into mine with a determined look upon them. I've never seen such focus in someone's eyes, not even when my father is building something.
"Um, why's that?" I reply, trying not to make eye contact too long. Something about Zeph and his unlike personality tells me he will die early, despite his brilliant mind. So I don't want to remember much about him because I'll feel guilty, and staring at him will do just the opposite and I'll remember every feature.
"Can you handle a weapon?" He asks, a quickness in his voice.
"No." I reply, just as curtly.
"Well, I work in the factory dealing with metallic substances, and I use hammers to shape them. So if I could find a hammer, it's a long shot, but it'd be an attribute to our alliance." His voice is so hurried; I only manage to hear a couple of words, them being 'factory', 'hammer', and 'attribute'. I nod, since I have no idea how to reply.

Zeph is still looking directly into my eyes, and I look up at his hair to break the eye contact once more. His stylist chose to keep his jet black hair untamed, slightly spiking it upwards to give him a subtle 'mad scientist' look. Or maybe he has just messed it back up, I don't know. All I really know about Zeph's stylist is that she has practically forced him to wear contact lenses whilst in the Capitol, to keep his appearance likeable. She didn't bet on his personality being as odd as it is, I guess. He wants to take his thick, black-rimmed glasses into the arena with him, according to Gabriel, who was up in arms about it. Oh, and now I'm looking at his eyes again, noting how they looked bloodshot.

"You should take your contacts out." I suggest, looking down at the pleats on my dress and brushing them with my fingers, feeling the smooth texture against my once-rough skin that the Capitol 'fixed'.
Zeph leans forward slightly.
"You have the likeability factor. The crowd loved you out there. You're bound to get sponsors." He's speaking in detached sentences now, maybe he's realised I couldn't understand him. His voice sounds lower, like he doesn't want anyone else to hear him. "So I propose that you gain us sponsors whilst I devise a plan."
The way Zeph says this is strange to me. Any other person saying this would sound arrogant and cocky, but coming from his lips, the proposition sounded like the most logical thing ever. Maybe he's been planning this instead of plotting how to kill me. Or maybe he will kill me. I'll have to be wary of him.
"Okay," I reply slowly, "I guess it's a good idea. What should we do about the Cornucopia?" I ask, wondering if he was going to send me into the middle of the bloodbath and get me killed by Careers.
"Do you really think it's a good idea rushing to look for weapons that you have no idea how to handle?" He replies, his voice without insult. He could almost be calm in the way he speaks, if it weren't for the hurried sense of it all.
"No. I thought you'd want to send me into the Bloodbath so I'd get killed." I say, 'he might as well know what I think of him' I add in my mind.
"Far from it. We should survey the area in the seconds before we can move. If there are any forest areas, run into there and find me. If not, go to concealed areas. Never run into an area where you can be seen." He sounds like he's reciting this, as if he's been drilling it into his own mind.
"What if I can't find you?" I reply.
"Don't worry; I'll come looking for you." He adds, smiling slightly. His eyes seem to sparkle at the pride of his genius plan. "You stay in the same area, and try to camp somewhere where Careers can't find you."
"But how will you find me?"
"We're both inventors. We'll think of the most genius hiding place." He smiles and holds his thumbs up, just like I did in the arena.

I look down at Zeph's suit. He wears a black shirt, with a black bow tie and pants. His blazer is the same dark shade, but with white down the edges of the lapel and tailored white down the sides. What's the word they use in the Capitol? Suave.

He's sat rigid and upright, at the edge of the seat. He looks nervous in his body movement, but the warm smile on his face confirms it.

Allies.