I do not own the Hunger Games, but I do own this story and the characters in it.
Chapter 16
"I want to feel alive," I whisper. These last couple of days I feel like I have been walking around in a stupor. For once, I want to feel adrenaline; the flight or flight feeling that our ancestors felt. The feeling the tributes will feel in the arena as they escape the exploding mines and the weapons of the others. I want to feel what he felt. Most of all, I want to feel free.
"That's my girl," he murmurs. "I like you. In the words of Haymitch, you've got spunk. Although, you might be a little chilly in that shirt."
"I don't mind the cold."
He reaches out tentatively and touches my shoulder, his face filled with mixed emotions. Then he takes a deep breath. "I have a leather jacket you can borrow. Don't forget your bullet proof vest."
"I have it right here." I put it on and buckle the straps. Dimitri tugs on the straps to make sure they are secure as if I don't know how to buckle my own straps. I should be offended the he thinks I am unable to do so. It's cute, in an odd way, his protective mother hen mechanisms. He puts his own and I tug on his straps, mainly to annoy him.
"Very funny," he smirks.
"You like it."
He disappears into his room, coming out a few minutes later with a black leather jacket, a helmet, and gloves. "This is my favorite jacket."
"You wear a lot of black." I say as he helps me into the jacket. It's a little big, but not as nearly as big as the shirt I wore earlier. I breathe in deeply the smell of leather and his scent. I make a mental note to go buy my own jacket in case these rides begin to be more frequent. If things continue to go well between us.
"It's the color of my soul," he says sarcastically.
I raise my eyebrows. "You have no soul?"
"I am a soulless bastard. Now you know my secret. Let's go." He tosses me a helmet. I almost don't catch it. It is heavy.
Our floor is deserted. Even the stationed Peacekeepers by the elevators are gone. They are probably enjoying the festivities of the evening. It's probably better that no one sees us. They might assume things.
Dimitri presses the button for the elevator. The doors open revealing Contessa, her two male escorts, and Emily, who I haven't talked to since the morning after the party. Contessa's eyes widen when she sees the two of us. "You aren't going to the interviews dressed like that, are you?"
"No, we're not going." Dimitri answered. "Carmen has a concussion, remember? I can't risk Katniss Everdeen giving her another concussion."
"But that's not…"
"That's unfortunate," Emily says. Instantly, I wonder what she's doing with Contessa. "Where are you two going, anyway?"
"Out for Chinese food. The medication does weird things. I'm having cravings, and poor Dimitri, I've just been driving him crazy. So we're getting out of the house," I lie. I don't care if they think I'm crazy, I just want to get out of this place. Away from them.
"She's been beating me," Dimitri answers. "If you want, I can show you my bruises."
"And knowing you, you probably deserve those bruises. If you want, I can come over and take care of you," Emily interrupts.
"We're having our own little party afterwards," Contessa adds. "It's a shame that you aren't feeling well enough to go to the interviews. They are such fun. You're welcome to come if you feel up to it."
I shrug, and shift the heavy helmet to my other arm. "Shit happens. And really, I'm fine. I just need to get out of the apartment and breathe a little."
I need to get away from the concrete and be sitting in the grass under the stars. Even if it is manmade, it has to be better than this. I feel betrayed by Emily. I consider Contessa to be an enemy.
Emily touches my shoulder. Alcohol is strong on her breath. "Well, you have my number if you need someone to take care of you."
"Me too," Contessa chimes in. "Did you get my flowers?"
"Yes, they were lovely," I say. "Have a good time tonight."
"Have fun in your foursome," Dimitri snarks. The elevator doors close in front of their shocked faces.
"Dimitri," I scold.
"What? You know it's true. Did you see how those guys were eyeing that Emily girl?"
"She's plastered."
"It's not your problem. She's made her choice. You can't protect her from everything. Pity that she's with Contessa though, she could have picked a better partner." Dimitri answers. He presses the button and we fly down to the lower level. The doors open and we are in an almost empty parking garage. Dimitri's motorcycle is parked next to his car.
Dimitri puts on his helmet and pulls on his gloves. I do the same. Nervousness bubbles up in my stomach. He hands me the backpack. "You're going to have to wear this, is that okay? Otherwise, you won't be able to hang on to me very well."
"That's fine," I say. I expect it to be heavy, but it isn't. There is maybe three items at the most in the bag.
He throws his leg over the motorcycle and gestures to me to do the same. I put my leg over the middle of the bike, clinging to Dimitri. My leg gets stuck and I do this strange hopping motion, until I am able to slide my body onto it. He laughs a hardy laugh that echoes around my head.
"I can hear you in my helmet," I say shocked.
"Yeah, I forgot to mention that. Sorry. It's if we want to talk while riding. See, if you didn't have this feature, we wouldn't be able to hear each other over the bike or wind on the road."
"Makes sense."
"You might want to hang on to me," He turns the ignition on the motorcycle and it roars to life. I can feel the energy as it quivers in between my legs. I wrap my arms around his waist. I remember the day as he sped past Avis and I with his hair spilling out from underneath his helmet and I saw him without the garish makeup and then he asked me to tie his tie. I can't help but feel like that was some sort of test.
We speed through the tunnel out into Capitol traffic. As we come out of the long tunnel and turn onto the main street, we are met by long lines of traffic. Exhaust fills the air, making it hard to breath.
"It figures," Dimitri groans. "Fucking Capitol traffic."
We'll get there," I say quietly.
The citizens are decked out in their best. Garish acid yellows, blues and sequins reflect back in the car lights. Music is turned up loud in a convertible car that pulls up next to us. There are four people that look about my age, laughing and drinking out glasses.
"She won't ever get enough
Once she gets a little touch
If I had it my way
You know that I'd make her say
Ooooooh,"
Dimitri sings along to the blaring music. "I really hate this song."
"Me too." I wrap my arms tighter around him.
"Nice bike!" A girl wearing a periwinkle feather dress calls out the window.
Some bimbo wearing a neon orange dress that makes her look like a traffic cone yells. "You should take me for a ride some time."
"No thanks," Dimitri calls back. "I'll pass."
"I bet you're hot," the traffic cone yells.
"I'm taken."
"You are not." I shoot back.
Dimitri chuckles. "She doesn't know that. I wouldn't touch that shit with a ten foot pole. Plus if she saw my face, she'd run away screaming."
"You wanna race?" A guy yells. Obviously, he is jealous that one of his girls is talking to Dimitri. He is wearing a periwinkle colored suit with a white ruffled shirt underneath. Sweat drips off his face, making his matching eyeliner smear down his face. He matches the first girl that spoke to us.
"Nah, I'm good," Dimitri answers. "Wouldn't want to make you look to bad in front of your women."
"Come on." The guy insists.
"Nah, I really don't." Dimitri answers. The light turns green and we follow the long line of cars out of the heart of the Capitol. There are many important people who live on the outskirts of the Capitol and probably just as many parties happening there. That's probably where the crazy man in the convertible with his friends are going.
"Pussy," the driver spits. He is very, very drunk.
"You know, I usually don't incite these kinds of reactions when I go out in public," Dimitri says.
"It's the bike." I look behind us and the driver cuts into our lane and is following closely behind us, almost riding Dimitri's tailpipe. I cling tighter to Dimitri. "Can you drive a little faster?"
"What? Is this bastard scaring you?"
"He's making me a little nervous, yes." My hands find their way into his jacket pockets. We are stuck at another stop light, and the car cuts over back into the other lane so that they are beside us. The girl in the blue is yelling at the driver for acting stupid.
"Are you sure he isn't like, one of your exes or something?"
"I'm positive," I answer. "My exes are a lot better looking."
"Ouch. Those are fighting words."
"Don't worry, I can out run him." Dimitri revs the engine. The other car follows suit. As soon as the traffic light turns green and the traffic begins moving. Dimitri moves easily through the cars. We pick up speed as we move towards the highway and away from the Capitol traffic. The other car struggles to keep up with us and we soon lose them. The traffic lessens the further we drive. Here the roads become bumpy and the moon less of a smear, but there are still no stars. Later, after the Games are over, the roads will be paved and this arena will become a reminder to the Capitol and Districts. It will also become a field trip attraction for Capitol children, who will be groomed to see the Hunger Games as a sport like their parents. District children would never think to come here. To them, the Capitol is some mythical place that they are trained to hate and fear.
In District 8, you couldn't see the stars very well because of the factories that belched steam and smoke into the air both day and night. The Victor's village was on the outskirts of the District and so we were able to see some. Grandmother said that what we could see was nowhere close to what existed. She told us stories about something called the Milky Way. She said it looked like a pathway that stretched across the skies. She had never seen it, of course, but had seen pictures in a book before they were all destroyed.
On the outskirts, there was a fence that separated us from the wilderness. I always wondered what was on the outside. I wanted to know if that pathway of stars existed there. Nothing else mattered. We could never leave, the fence was electrified and you could hear it humming if you got close to it. Sometimes, a too curious child would get too close and get zapped.
The air smells cleaner here and there are no other vehicles on the road to slow us down. Dimitri stops at a toll booth and shows the two Peacekeepers our badges. In a matter of moments we descend into the tunnel that will allow access to the arena. This is a different tunnel than Avis and I used.
"I don't remember this tunnel," I say.
"There's several ways to get here, mostly by tunnels. There are three different access tunnels from the Capitol with several different access points. Avis took the long one which is close by your mother's house. We could have taken one that would have put us here in about twenty minutes." Dimitri says. "But what's the fun of riding a motorcycle if you can't feel the wind on your face?"
"Touché."
"And there's something nice about using the old highways. It takes me back to a simpler time in our history. The tunnels make me claustrophobic."
We arrive into the parking garage. There are a few cars scattered in the parking spots but I do not recognize them. Dimitri parks close to the entrance. My legs are sore as I dismount from the bike. I didn't realize I was clenching them around the body of the bike.
"So what do you think? Dangerous enough for you?" Dimitri asks. He takes off his helmet and shakes his head. Red waves cascade over his shoulders.
"I like it."
He wraps an arm around my shoulders as we walk into the arena. The arena is very secure, and so the two of us have to jump through a myriad of tests, including retina scans. The Gamemakers don't want anyone who isn't supposed to be here to be in here in fear that they will some how plant something to disrupt the Games.
The Peacekeeper at the gate points at me. "I need to see what is in your bag."
I unshoulder the bag and open it and take out the contents. Two pieces of chocolate cake, forks, napkins, a thermos of milk, a flask filled with whisky, clove cigarettes, a lighter and a small flashlight. The Peacekeeper gives us a weird look when he opens both the thermos and the flask.
"I need them to function, ok? I have issues." Dimitri complains. "I like to drink them together."
I make a face. "Ew."
"You can't work on an empty stomach," Dimitri says. "How do you expect us to be productive without chocolate cake?"
The Peacekeeper gives back the items and stares sternly at us both. "Just don't leave any of it in the arena."
Dimitri stuffs the items back into the backpack. Then he shoulders the backpack over his shoulder and takes my hand. I'm sure the Peacekeeper thinks we are a couple, but it doesn't matter. Who is he going to tell? And besides, we pay his salary.
We take the elevator up to the first level. The doors open and we are standing in the wheat. As the metal doors close, they melt away behind us as if they had never existed. The moon is bright and overhead I can see millions and millions of stars. A light breeze plays through the tops of the wheat. Dimitri takes my hand and we make our way through the tall stalks, careful not to leave any trace. I can't see the top of the Cornucopia from where we stand. Suddenly, Dimitri lets go of my hand and takes off at a slow jog.
"Wait!" I cry, trying to match his pace. My lungs burn. I am out of shape. Dimitri doesn't run in a straight line, but rather, zigzags. I don't know how long he jogs for, but suddenly he disappears from view.
"Dimitri!" I yell. I am afraid that the arena has swallowed him or something is not disabled like Dimitri says they would be. For all I know, there could be trap doors that appear and send the tributes to a different part of the arena.
My call is answered by hysterical laughing. I push myself a little further and almost trip over him. This makes him laugh harder. I stumble and land on my hands and knees. I scramble back to my feet, but trip on a rock and fall back down.
"Easy sweetheart. I don't need you to get another concussion on me."
"Don't scare me like that!" I pull him to his feet and help him dust off the chaff from the wheat from his jacket.
"I fell over a stupid rock." He picks it up and throws it far away from us. "I may have rolled my ankle."
"What are rocks doing in the wheat?"
He grips my shoulder and tests his ankle with a few ginger steps. "This is the Games, anything is possible. Rocks can live anywhere the Gamemakers put them."
I know he's right. They were put there to slow down the tributes, either from each other or something else. A chill runs down my spine, even though I am sweating.
"Are you okay?"
"Yeah, I think I just twisted it. It'll be ok. Just look out for the rocks." Dimitri takes off his leather jacket and ties it around his waist. I mimic him. My fingers find his and he gives me a small smile.
We continue to pick our way carefully through the wheat. I hold onto Dimitri's arm and breathe in deeply, allowing the clean air to fill my lungs. I wonder if this is what the air in the wilderness outside of District 8 feels like. There are only a few wisps of clouds in the sky and the stars twinkle down around us. Dimitri changes our direction and the arena begins to slope upwards. For a while, I forget that we are in the arena. It isn't until the top of the Cornucopia appears over the horizon that I am thrust back into reality.
"You can almost forget that you're in a man made structure," I say. Where we are, there is a small babbling brook, maybe a foot across.
"Yeah," Dimitri agrees. He squats and washes his face, then cups his hands and takes a drink. The water must be safe to drink, that'll be the only way the tributes will stay alive. I cup my hand and take a drink of the water. It is sweet and cold. Quite frankly, it is the best water I have ever tasted.
Dimitri chuckles. "I have to hand the Gamemakers this; they do give the tributes good water to drink. Most of the time. Though in my Games you had to be careful, some of the water was safe to drink and some wasn't."
"How could you tell?"
"Well, if there were fish or any other wildlife, you could almost guarantee it was safe. No living creature would live in poisonous water."
"Unless they were mutts."
"There were fish with teeth one year," Dimitri mused. "I guess I got lucky that I didn't drink the wrong water."
"I almost wish we brought an empty thermos."
We climb the slope to the Cornucopia. The moonlight shines eerily off its gold exterior. Supplies for the tributes has already been arranged for tomorrow. Dimitri throws a rock and it bounces harmlessly off the ground.
"The mines aren't activated. I just wanted to make sure."
We climb to the top of the structure. The surface is ribbed allowing us hand holds to help us climb. A few minutes later, we are on the top of the structure. There is a flat platform on top. The arena stretches expansively around us. From our vantage point, I can see the forest, wheat and even the lake. Crickets chirp loudly. Dimitri wipes his forehead and sits down. He starts unpacking the backpack. He pulls out the thermos of milk and two pieces of chocolate cake. "You do like chocolate and milk right?"
"Always." I sit cross legged beside him. The breeze is a little stronger up here, and I put his jacket back on. He hands me a fork and we begin to eat our cake. Both of us hold the container which contains two large slices of the rich cake. I'm not sure I'll be able to eat all mine.
"Did you see the look on the Peacekeeper's face when he opened the thermos of milk?" I say.
"It was beautiful. These Capitol types don't understand the wonderfulness about milk and how great it goes with chocolate cake." He opens it and takes a small sip.
"Milk was a treat in District 8," I say. "I'd never had it until I went there."
"Really? I thought the Capitol had everything?"
"Sometimes I wish I didn't live here because everything is so complicated here. You always have to look over your shoulder because someone's always after you."
"You too?" Dimitri says softly. "Who's after you?"
I shrug. "It just feels like that sometimes. Who's after you?"
"No one, I hope," Dimitri says around a mouth of cake. "I hope those days are over. But as a victor, you can never tell. Living in the Districts seems like a piece of cake, pardon the irony, compared to here and now."
I know he's right. When we stayed with my grandmother, there were certain things we could and couldn't do. The pressure must be unbearable sometimes. There's so much pressure on them to have their tributes succeed.
"Why don't we pretend that we're not from the Capitol tonight," I say "And this isn't the arena, it's the wilderness."
Dimitri points his fork at me. "And I'm just Dimitri and you're just Carmen."
"Right."
"Whatever happens in here stays in between us?"
I nod. "And the cameras in the arena."
Dimitri snorts, "No one's going to look at the footage of the wind in the trees and wheat the night before the Games. It's not like we're discussing staging a coupe or anything."
"Or singing taboo songs."
"Or fucking on top of the Cornucopia." Dimitri clears his throat. "Sorry, just had to put that one out there."
I take another bite of my cake. "I thought you weren't into Capitol girls?"
"I'm not. That's why I was saying…" He blushes. "I'm your mentor. It wouldn't be right, anyway. Well, since you're just Carmen, I'll just say that I'm not really your type."
"You've known me less than a week, and I'm not really into one night stands. You're not going to get lucky tonight," I say. "Sorry."
He shrugs and licks his fork. There is a smear of chocolate on the corner of his upper lip. "So do you know any constellations?"
"I've never really seen the stars. The smoke in District 8 blocked most of them, and you can't see much in the Capitol. You've got chocolate all over your face," I chuckle.
Dimitri tries to lick it off with his tongue, but only succeeds in smearing it all further over his top lip. "Is it gone?"
"You've only made it worse."
"Well, shit." He wipes his mouth with the back of his hand. "Now is it gone?"
I shake my head. "Nope. Now it's smeared on your cheek."
He groans. "God, you can't take me anywhere."
"At least it's not on your shirt." I lick my thumb and scrub the chocolate off the corner of his lip. My thumb lingers on the raised parts of his scars. I stare at his lips, wondering how soft they would be on mine. I shouldn't. He sets down the container that holds the cake and scoots closer to me. A tendril of his long hair falls over my hands. Dimitri puts his hand behind my waist. Our eyes meet, and for an instant I have the distinct impression he wants to kiss me. My heart goes to my throat. He shouldn't be having this strong of an effect on me. I want to kiss him. He moves closer to me. I could just…
Dimitri clears his throat and straightens his legs and leans back on his hands. "So, what constellations do you know?"
I tell him about the pathway of star known as the Milky Way. I point out the Big and Little Dipper. "There's also something in the night sky where different colors of greens, blues and purples shine in the night sky. I've never seen those either."
"The only colors I've seen in the night sky are the orange glows from the factories in District 8. But I can teach you what I know?" He takes a sip from the flask. I drink the rest of the milk. Some of it drips out of the side of my mouth and on to his jacket.
Dimitri laughs and hands me a napkin. "It looks like we can't take you anywhere either."
"We're two of a kind," I agree. "More alike than we'd like to think."
"I don't know about that." He tucks a strand of stray hair of behind his ears. "It'd be nice to relate to someone other than past victors. The arena, it changes you. The things you see… you can't take them back. It's different from watching on the television. The Gamemakers edit the majority of it. You're detached. Most people don't understand what it's like to watch someone die or kill another human being."
"Did you kill anyone?"
"Three people in the arena." He looks sad so I place my hand on his. "I regret it, but if I didn't they would have killed me. Their faces haunt my sleep every night along with the mutts the Gamemakers created and sent after us."
"I wonder if the Gamemakers change?" I say, "Since we're so close to it."
He shrugs and taps the bottom of his cigarette pack against the heel of his hand. Then he takes the slim brown cylinder, puts it in his mouth and lights it. Sweet smoke fills the air around us as he inhales, then tips his head back and exhales the smoke towards the stars. "I doubt it. You've seen how most of them are."
"I didn't know you smoked," I say.
"Only when I'm stressed or it the Hunger Games." He taps the ash off the end. "I probably won't sleep much tonight out of habit."
"Did you sleep the night before your Games?"
"No, I didn't sleep much at all. I spent most of my time on the roof, much to my mentors' dismay. I watched the sun rise because it might have been my last. It was the most beautiful sunrise I'd ever seen. The way the sunlight came over the tall buildings and the shimmer of the dew on the railing. I noticed things that I had noticed before." His voice trails off and he takes another drag on his cigarette.
The moon glitters on the surface of the lake. I scoot closer to him and our shoulders touch. Tonight, we are only Dimitri and Carmen. Regular people. Not Gamemakers or Capitol residents.
He points to a line of diagonal stars above the tall stretching branches of the forest.. They seem to be brighter than the rest. "See those three stars that are in a straight line above the trees?"
"Those?" I place my finger on beside his.
"Yes, those. That's Orion, the hunter's belt. The small clusters are his sword sheath." Dimitri also points out his shoulders. "If you move up to the south, you can see his sword."
"That faint line of three stars?" I answer, pointing to area diagonal to the belt.
"Yes. On the other side is his shield."
"What was your weapon in the arena?" I ask, still staring at Orion.
"I thought we were only going to be Dimitri and Carmen tonight?"
"Well, I thought since we were discussing Orion…."
"Knives," He interrupts. "Adrenaline and sheer luck. Occasionally episodes of bloodlust." He stubs his cigarette onto the metal top and tosses the butt over the side.
"Won't they get mad at your for that."
He shrugs. "I don't care. They're going to send Avoxes in and comb the arena for any trace of human shit anyway. Might as well give them something to do. And really, what are they going to do to me that they haven't done already?"
Graham's words echo in my head about him being confined to a mental asylum. Was that a result of his time in the arena or something else? I shrug and turn my attention back to the sky. It doesn't matter, at least right now. "What others do you know?"
"Well, there's Sagittarius, the archer who is half man and half horse. The Katniss of the skies. Though I'm pretty sure back in the day, the constellation was male."
"Where's he?"
Dimitri studies the sky before answering me. He points to a group of stars on the opposite side of the sky from Orion. They are in more of a geometric shape pattern. "He's right there next to Scorpius, the scorpion."
"He doesn't look like much."
Dimitri snorts and leans back on his hands, straightening his legs and crossing his ankles. His right hand is behind my back so I'm almost leaning on his arm. "Centaurs are badass. It's a shame that the Capitol controls so much of our culture. I know you would probably like some more freedom with your music."
"It's not so much the classical music that incites riots. It's the old songs with words."
"Back in District 5, there wasn't much light pollution and I'd often go out in the wind turbine fields with my girlfriend and we'd lay on a blanket, look at the stars, and make out." He grins impishly. "Those we some good times."
"Where is she now?" I ask.
"She could be dead for all I know. When I came back from the Games, I broke her heart. She couldn't understand…" His voice trails off.
"Your scars." I supply.
"Yeah. Something like that. " He falls silent and looks at the skies. I lean my head against his shoulder and close my eyes. "I was seventeen, stupid, and afraid."
"And you had every right to be." I want to reach over and comfort him, hold him. I can't. He wouldn't let me. "I can't imagine."
He doesn't answer, but stares up at the sky. Finally, he turns to face me. "Why do you always look at me like that?"
"What do you mean?" I try to think how I have possibly offended him. My Grandmother told me I shouldn't pity him. While I do feel sorry for him, I have made a point not to say anything demeaning to his Victor status. Have I? Surely, he would have let me know with some cutting remark.
"I don't know. You just have that look."
I blush. "You're going to have to be a bit more specific."
"That look girls have when they want… Well." He taps his cigarette container on the palm of his hand. "It's not important. I'm just surprised, that's all."
"Dimitri. I'm sorry if I've offended you. I haven't meant…" I stammer. I have no idea what he's talking about.
He places a finger on my lips and leans close to me. The sweet aroma of cloves lingers on his hair and clothes. "I just want to know…. why you are so willing to trust me."
"Do I have much of a choice? I mean, we're kind of in this together. And you haven't given me any reason not to trust you, right?"
"I suppose." Dimitri's fingers find their way into my hair and he moves closer so that our bodies are touching and right arm is wrapped around my waist. His lips are only inches away from mine.
"You could have easily left me at the hospital and at the mercy of the other Gamemakers' care, but you didn't. You drove me home, yelled at a Peacekeeper, and helped me take a shower. If it weren't for you, then I probably would still be there covered in punch. That has to count for something."
"You have no idea who I am and what terrible things I've done." In the moonlight, his expression is pained. He looks down into his lap. "I deserve my scars."
"I don't believe that."
He chuckles grimly. "I'm sure there are other people in the Capitol who beg to differ."
"It doesn't matter. Tonight, you're just Dimitri, remember?" I remind him. I cradle the side of his face and feel the unevenness of his scars underneath my fingertips. He tenses under my touch. I want to know how he got them since they are very unique, but you don't ask those kinds of questions in polite conversation. Not to Dimitri Kral. I can't afford to lose him. I am also afraid that he'll brush my hands away, but he doesn't.
"You're not afraid of me?" he whispers. "My scars? My ugly face."
"Should I be?"
"Hypothetically speaking, would you kiss a man that has been tortured and broken by the Capitol? Not out of pity because he's a victor or because you're paying for his affections, but simply because you liked him?"
I kiss him.
A/n: Please Review. Also I do not own the lyrics to "My First Kiss" – Featuring Ke$ha by 3OH!3.