I do not own The Hunger Games, but the plot of this story and original characters are mine.
Chapter 7
The Head Gamemaker sits at the head of the long conference table shuffling a set of papers. Very few people are in the room even though there are only a few minutes until the start of the meeting. In the middle of the table, there is a spread of assorted breakfast pastries and other foods. There are also two different kinds of wines, both open and coffee. At each chair there are nametags. To my great relief, I am not seated next to Contessa. I am instead seated between Lupe Peace and Plutarch. Contessa is seated further down across the table. Dimitri is seated across from me. I suspect the nametags are for my benefit. These people have been serving alongside each other for years.
I sit down and start looking at the papers in front of me. On top, there is a badge with my name, picture, and the seal of Panem. My name is written in gold letters below my picture.
Carmen Hyde
Gamemaker
There's an agenda of the meeting followed by a folder filled with all of the tributes' information. I pull my notebook from my bag as my fellow Gamemakers filter into the room. Dimitri slides into a chair beside me.
"You're not Plutarch," I say. "You sit over there, next to Contessa."
"I'm not sitting next to her, are you crazy?" He slouches in his chair and puts his hands behind his head. Clearly, he is not taking this meeting seriously. "He won't care."
"You don't know that." I dig around for something to write with. My bag has eaten my pen. I take out a few of my books and set them on the table. Dimitri picks up my book filled with Beethoven sonatas and flips through them.
"Can you play any of these?"
"Quite a few of them actually." It annoys me that he has decided to look at my sonatas without asking. My pen is at the bottom of my bag.
"Which one's your favorite?"
Before I can answer Emily's uncle seats himself on my other side of me. He is a tall man with jet black hair and almond-shaped eyes. "Hello, I'm Lupe Peace," he says pleasantly. "Nice to finally meet you."
"It's nice to finally meet you, Mr. Peace."
"Please, call me Lupe. These pastries look delicious!" He helps himself to a few of the different pastries. "Would you like some?"
"No thanks, I'll pass. I've already eaten"
"She's still feeling bad from yesterday," Dimitri adds. "Nerves."
"That's completely normal," Lupe says. " This meeting is pretty low key. It looks like we'll just be discussing the tributes and a few other things. Maybe take a tour of the arena. It shouldn't take more than an hour and a half."
"Contessa seemed to think it'd last a long time."
"She exaggerates. Don't listen to her," Dimitri interrupts. He is still looking at my sonata book. "In fact, stay away from her. She's sort of dangerous."
"I would take everything she says with a grain of salt," Lupe agrees. "If you have any questions or concerns, I'd be happy to help you. I've been doing this a long time. Actually, Plutarch and I began the same year."
The rest of the group files in, and takes their seats behind their nametags. Except for Plutarch, who ended up seated in between Contessa and the other female Gamemaker, Elina Villalobos. She has dark hair and emerald green eyes are enhanced by the gems surrounding them. I get the distinct feeling that she doesn't like me.
I pull my eyes away from hers and start looking at the stack of papers in front of me. On top, is the agenda for the meeting. Behind it, there's information about every tribute. The girl from District 1 is first. Glimmer. She has blond hair and emerald eyes. In her head shot, she stares coldly back at me.
"I'd like to call this meeting to order," Seneca Crane's voice interrupts my thoughts. "I'd like to welcome Carmen Hyde who is replacing her mother Vivian Hyde on the Council for this year's games. There's a few things I'd like to call your attention to that aren't on our agenda, mainly some security procedures that were put in place. We decided that it was best to not allow cars to pull up next to the building in the parking garage because we've had some problems with people parking illegally there and causing problems. Next, we've replaced the lighting in the tunnel connecting the arena to the living complex. It's now brighter and we provide escorts to those who want it. Are there any questions?"
"It hurts my feet to walk that far," Contessa complains. "I might have blisters from today."
"Well, then it might be time to invest in more comfortable shoes," Plutarch suggests. "Or wear a different pair from the car to the building."
She scowls at him. "They won't match my outfit. I have a distinct style."
"Any other questions, problems or concerns before we move to the tributes?" Seneca asks.
"A mentor for Carmen?" The person named Sixten Magoon. He has blue hair and looks about thirty. "Contessa mentioned it to Caesar Flickerman yesterday. I personally think it's a great idea. I would have loved to have one when I came on six years ago."
At the mention of her name, Contessa brightens. My stomach turns; I don't want her as my mentor. Something about her bothers me. Plus, someone who wears colors that resembles the medicine that calms heartburn, indigestion, and diarrhea doesn't strike me as someone who could be considered trustworthy.
Sixten continues. "I think Dimitri can vouch for me that there's so much to learn, how to keep the balance of intensity in the arena on your shift, excetra."
"That's another thing we need to talk about too," Lupe interrupted. "I think there should be two people working during each shift. Last year we had the issue of people sleeping during the shifts or not showing up which made us lose a lot of good opportunities to amp up the excitement of the Games."
Seneca nodded. "We'll talk about that more as the start of the Games gets closer. That's a good point, Lupe. Now-"
"I volunteer as Carmen's mentor," Contessa interrupts. "She needs a mother figure, because God knows she doesn't get that with her mother being so busy. And her grandmother, Jettie is a victor in the 14th Games. No doubt she's damaged and emotionallt unavailable."
"Don't talk about grandmother that way, you pompous—." I spit. You can say whatever you want about my mother. It's probably true. She is no saint, but I draw the line at my grandmother. Lupe puts a hand on my shoulder to keep me in my seat.
"Now, wait a minute," a man named Elmo says holding up his hands. He has wrinkles and white hair, something that most people in the Capitol try to avoid having. I thought my grandmother was the only one who had wrinkles. "I've had many friends that were victors. They're not all like Annie Cresta, a drunk like Haymitch Abernarthy or the morphlings in District 6. The majority of them are able to lead fulfilling lives after the Games."
"Depends on what you call fulfilling," Dimitri mutters. He shoves my sonata book back at me and folds his hands on the table.
"Well still…"
Plutarch cuts her off. "We need to take Carmen's needs into consideration and what will make her a successful Gamemaker. She's a blank slate seeing that Vivian kept her out of the workings of the Games for so long."
"Age of the mentor is another factor too," Elmo adds. "I wouldn't make a good mentor because I'm old enough to be her grandfather. I can't relate to her in the ways she need me too because, lets face it. I don't get young people these days." This produces chuckles from the group. Elmo winks and takes a sip of his coffee.
Elina pats his shoulder affectionately. "You may be old, but we still adore you anyway. I feel myself grin despite myself and some of the anger disappearing.
"If we're going by age, then only Sixten and Dimitri are eligible," Avis says.
"Who has mentoring experience?" Seneca interrupts.
The room falls silent. Only Elmo and Dimitri raise their hands. Of course, Dimitri would. As a victor, he had to mentor the following years tributes until someone else won, or he became a Gamemaker. Elmo has already counted himself out.
"Dimitri seems to like her well enough. That's a big deal because he has a hard time liking people these days." This produces chuckles from everyone but Contessa. "He took my seat, cut in on my dance with her yesterday, and soon he'll live across the hall from her."
"You couldn't ask for a better arrangement really," Elina says. "Vivian would approve, I think."
Vivian would approve. Of course she would. Dimitri is not Graham.
"She took me under her wing a little bit my first year," Dimitri answers. "That was three years ago, I think." I wonder if he and my mother were an item. It's a question I'm not sure I want to know the answer to.
"Sounds like a match made in heaven," Elmo says brightly. "She's pretty enough, isn't she Dimitri? I think so. Do you think she's cute?"
Dimitri blushes the color of his hair and scoots down in his chair. "Dirty old man. That's not what it's going to mean," he mutters. "Quit being creepy."
"Who knows, you could be a good influence on him," Plutarch says. "He needs all the help he can get."
"Maybe you can teach him how to play the piano and to comb his hair," Sixten says "and not live in squalor like a feral animal."
"And make him get rid of that awful white makeup," Elina replies. "Really, he looks like something out of a nightmare."
"Not funny," Dimitri mutters. He slumps in his seat again, clearly embarrassed.
"I helped him tie his tie this morning," I say. "That counts for something, right?"
"See! It's working already!" Elmo exclaims slamming his fist on the table. "I vote yes."
"But—" Contessa protests.
"All in favor say aye?" Seneca ask.
No one objects except Contessa. She scowls at both of us at both of us. The contortion of her face and hooked nose makes her look like an angry pink bird. "You didn't ask if Carmen was okay with it or Dimitri."
"If they minded they would have said something by now. Stop referring to us like we aren't in the room," Dimitri says coolly.
"Seneca took a vote, neither objected," Sixten says.
Contessa purses her lips but doesn't say anything. "Well, she's just so naïve. It's obvious that Dimitri plans to take advantage of that."
"Excuse me?" Dimitri interrupted. "When have I ever come across as a threat to her?"
"You are unpredictable and you—" The rest of her words are drowned out as the room breaks out in a shouting match. Sixten stands up to make his point and accidentally elbows the male Avox bringing in fresh pastries. The tray flips and pastries scatter everywhere. No one seems to notice. Seneca claps his hands get everyone's attention.
"Let's take a ten minute break, why don't we before we get into the tributes? That way we can settle down."
The others murmur in agreement. Contessa is the first to storm out. She picks up a fallen croissant and throws it in our direction. It bounces harmlessly on the table and bounces a few times and stops in front of Dimitri. He tears a piece of it and pops it in his mouth. I now understand his comment about needing a bulletproof vest. It wasn't the tributes I need protection from. It was my co-workers. Contessa's contempt was proof of that.
"Well, that was fun," he says. "Don't worry, you're not my type. I don't go for Capitol girls."
"I have Graham," I say. Guilt overwhelms me. I haven't talked to him since last night and I don't have time to call him in the small break I have now. Dimitri offers me a piece and I take it.
"He's not a fan of the Games," I say carefully. We are the only ones still in the room at this point. "His younger brother was a tribute in the 70th Games."
Dimitri nods knowingly, "I hope your relationship is strong, for your sake."
"Speaking of relationships, what did you do to make Contessa hate you so much?"
He chuckles and pours himself a glass of wine. "That's a long story that involves … certain things I did my first year that I probably shouldn't have done. Some of them I regret."
"My mother?"
"That was part of it. Not in the way you're thinking though." He licks his fingers and smirks, "It wasn't like that at all. Like I said, I don't go for Capitol women."
Contessa storms back the room and glares at us. Her face is a puffy pink. "You may have think you've won Dimitri, but just you wait!"
I am completely lost in this exchange, but Dimitri raises his glass and toasts. "Ladies and gentlemen, let the seventy-fourth Hunger Games begin!"
"And may the odds be ever in your favor," I imitate Effie Trinket from District 12.
A/N: Please review!