EPISODE TWO

CONRAD

When the Peacekeepers came into the Justice Building, Conrad knew he was a goner. They escorted him along with Jocelyn and Petunia into the charcoal gray carriage and fled the town square. The car ride to the train was silent, more silent than the town square during Reaping Day, except for Petunia who was humming the Panem anthem as she powdered her face to an abnormal glowing white.

The cameras surrounding the path to the train and Conrad kept his head down to hide his face. He never liked attention, and when was spoken at the microphone, he felt incredibly awkward and embarrassed (which was shrouded by dread and worry of course.) Conrad and Jocelyn walked the stairs that led into the steel train and was welcomed by a small corridor.

The door of the train sealed and another one opened, leading them into a banquet parlor room filled with scrumptious smelling sweets, oak furniture outlined and intricately detailed in gold, and red satin curtains draping the windows that showed what was left of District Six. Conrad took a kneel on the seat that bordered the window and looked out to District Six with sorrow.

He didn't know if he was ever coming back here. His daily routine never consisted of getting reaped into the Games, so you can imagine that Fate decided to take his life into an entirely new course with a long chain of events that are yet to come.

As the train began moving, Conrad felt anxious. Obviously he had never been to any other place besides District Six. When the view of the district began to diminish into the distance as the train was welcomed by acres and acres of tall spruce trees and condescending oaks.

"Well," Petunia clapped her hands in an excited fashion, "I'll let you two get settled." Her sentence tone pitched at the end. "I'm going to go and get Chastace-"

"Is there some place where I can be alone?" Jocelyn asked, though it wasn't so much of a question as it sounded more of a demand.

Petunia took a second to respond. "Well… yes, deary. Your bedroom is on the end of the train." Her faulty grin faded as she exited the room.

Jocelyn gave Conrad an unsure ad cautious glance, as if she wasn't sure how to approach the teen boy. Her interest wavered to finding her bedroom at the other end of the train, leaving Conrad alone to stare into the distance of the unknown lands of Panem.

In a room filled with goods that had the sweet-smelling aroma nipping at your nose, Conrad didn't feel a least bit hungry. The reaping took away his appetite and he's sure that a freshly baked croissant wasn't going to help his darkening mood. Chaz came into the parlor half an hour after their departure, though Conrad didn't bother to notice. His mind was too wrapped up around the thought of how he was going to win this thing. Chaz promised to help him, but being the altruistic person he is, he thought it would be unfair to Jocelyn about the advantage of having a victor and a mentor for a brother. Though, Conrad didn't feel lucky. She probably forgot that he's on morphling, or, was on morphling until recently.

Chaz took a seat at the window next to Conrad. "How're you holding up?"

Conrad let out a deep sigh. "Shaken up; scared," he shrugged at the word. He wanted to hide his nervousness and dread but hey, anyone would feel the same if they were given a sentence to a televised death.

"That's how I'd expect you to feel," Chaz replied blatantly.

Conrad narrowed his eyes but his voice faltered for a few moments. He thought about his parents, especially his broken-up mother whose children were both being transported to the Capitol as they speak. "Mom didn't make saying goodbye any easier."

Chaz hung his head in despair. "Yeah…she never does."

"I just can't believe she has to go through this again." Conrad leaned his chin onto his forearm as he set it against the windowsill, the sun already setting its course towards the horizon.

"Dad's there to hold her hand through this. I told her to stay strong, for you."

The corridor door slid open and Petunia came back in, as if she thought her smile would lighten up the mood in this joint. She gave them a waving gesture over to the table to have something to eat.

"Take it all in, my darling," she gracefully waved her hands around her, "the wonderful décor, the delectable food, the pleasant atmosphere; oh, you're going to love the Capitol."

As Petunia continued her overly exaggerating speech about how wonderful the life of the Capitol is, Conrad exchanged an annoyed look with his older brother, and the feeling was entirely mutual. The teen didn't seem to be that interested in his lamb stew; he could only stomach a few sips of it before he lost his appetite again from Petunia's complimentary remarks about President Snow's mansion and how glorious the Capitol looked from a chopper.

As the sun set on the horizon, the three retired into their respectful bedrooms where they locked themselves in for the rest of the night. Even though the train didn't even move an inch as they travelled over 200 miles per hour, Conrad still had trouble sleeping. He had to stop thinking of the negative and start focusing on his strong suits that could help in the levels of the Games.

He tried to give himself credit for taking gym for two semesters. The rope climbing, weight lifting, and running paid off from the looks of his slightly herculean form. Even though his muscles didn't bulge out like a body builder, he was still considered masculine and fit. Hopefully his strength could assist him in anything they're going to throw at him.

He gave himself into the night and his eyelids draped his eyes and sent him into a deep slumber.

Conrad had a horrible sleep; he had sand in his eyes, he had lines and wrinkles on his skin from tossing and turning and sleeping on the blankets, and he even felt his eyes giving into some more sleep again. He glanced at the clock. The device picked up his gaze and turned off its sleep-wake mode. The silver slab projected a holograph of the current time in digital format. 10:38am, the time blinked. He groaned as he used his fingernails to get the sand out of the corners of his eyes before shoving the blankets off and getting on with his morning routine.

He took the dark blue silk robe and shrugged it on, tying the straps around his waist after brushing his teeth and washing his face to get him to wake up. He wished today could've been like any other day where he'd wake up in the morning, get ready for the day, and head to the library to work on his school work. But today wasn't like any other day. He realized he was still in the train and elicited another exhausted groan from his throat before walking out of the room.

He found Jocelyn and Chaz dining some scrambled eggs, grilled strips of bacon with a side dish of freshly baked bread from the Capitol's finest bakeries. Jocelyn ate like she hadn't eaten in days. She was probably eating to gain her strength in preparation for the Games and to Conrad, that didn't sound like a bad idea. He took a seat across Jocelyn as the waiter filled his plate with food.

"Had a good sleep, I see," Chaz teased as he sliced the loaf of bread with his butter knife.

"Oh yeah, it was very pleasant thanks to the blankets that wrapped me up into a cuccoon."

Jocelyn snickered, but realized what she did. She suddenly took interest in carving her name into the slice of bread on her porcelain plate. Conrad felt the brims of his lips form into a small smile before he finally dug in and ate a good morning breakfast. He figured that Chaz probably ordered such a meal; Conrad would've gone back to his room if he found the table filled with fancy food he had never seen or heard of. He'd rather know what he was eating.

After breakfast, Chaz had another one of his little episodes. He said that it's been happening ever since he's been off morphling. So he retired back to his room to get some rest for the rest of the day. Conrad felt pity and guilt wash over him; he knew that he was trying to change for the better. But then the thought of a victor with a morphling addict going around collecting donations from sponsors came into his mind. Chastace was probably never taken seriously in the Capitol; heck, he doesn't even think any of District Six victors ever get attention from its citizens.

Conrad and Jocelyn sat in the lounging area of the parlor room where the light beamed against his back as he fidgeted with his fingers, the awkward tension circling in the air.

"So…" Conrad attempted at a conversation, "you climbs ropes, huh."

Jocelyn gazed at him for a moment before a chuckle escaped her lips. She shook her head. "You remember that, really?"

"Well, I should know who I'm up against, shouldn't I?"

"You're pretty cautious," she complimented.

Conrad just shrugged as his gaze faltered, suddenly taking interest in his fidgeting fingers. Another moment of silence filled the room before she began to speak again.

"Are you scared too?"

He looked at her like she asked him how he wanted to die. "You bet I'm scared. I didn't even know I was the top ballot."

"Same here! I don't even know how my name even got mentioned."

"Well, you look sportier than the other girls."

"That's because most of them haven't got much to eat in a day."

That was true. Most of the families in the district lived on the poorer suburbs. Conrad was pretty much lucky that his dad became a conductor and an engineer. The neighborhood he lived in was almost like the Victor's Village: cold, quiet, and almost uninhabited except for at least a dozen families.

"Preston Wheeler would've been a better candidate. He's good with a bow and he's practically a sharp shooter."

"Hmm, you're right. But he's kind of thin. It would be a disadvantage to him when he gets cornered and doesn't have that kind of strength to fight with."

"If you have the sight of an eagle, I don't think that would be a problem as long as he keeps hidden."

Jocelyn nodded. Before she could reply with an agreeing remark, Petunia barged into the room with that stupid vivacious grin that started to annoy Conrad. Even he could tell Jocelyn was annoyed.

"Come come, my tributes! We," she dramatically flaunted her arm towards the window, "have arrived."

The two climbed onto the seat bordering the window and gazed out with interest as the cloud covering dispersed from the window, showcasing a large city that expanded for miles across the Rocky Mountains. As their wanderlust became fulfilled just from looking at the condescending architectural buildings and mega structures, they continued to gaze in awe as they travelled through the tunnel until the train finally took a stop into the station where hundreds of spectators and citizens dressed in fluorescent clothing and overly exaggerated wigs waited outside on the platform.

"Our final stop," Petunia gracefully stated, "the Capitol."