"What do you think of her, then?" Brutus demanded as I entered the Suite's living room that evening. After a full day training my body felt strong and lithe. Physically, I was satisfyingly exhausted. Emotionally, I was frustratingly exhausted.
The hours of physical training could not prepare me for the constant exposure to the Capitol idiots and the other tributes.
Passing a hand over my eyes I walked over to the expansive lounge suite where Brutus had sprawled himself as if he was king of his palace. Slightly more refined, I perched on the edge near his feet and looked at him.
"What do I think of Fire Girl?" I confirmed and he inclined his head regally.
"She's skilled," I concluded resentfully, "but she's arrogant. Actually no, it's not entirely arrogance. She's...resigned, perhaps. She's willing to sacrifice herself."
Brutus gave a small grunt of agreement. "What do you think she's sacrificing herself for?"
A frown formed. We already knew that Fire Girl was one to martyr herself. After all, it was her decision to volunteer in her sister's place which had won her initial fame. My hands balled into fists at the thought. That still struck a painful blow. Long ago I had realised that I envied her the ability to willingly throw her life away in order to save her sister. I would have done it in a heartbeat.
I turned my thoughts back to the current Games and the differences to last year. She had entered the 74th Games purely as a heroic volunteer. This year she had added romantic idol to her resume. I realised glumly that there would now only be one other person to inspire a similar act of selflessness.
"She thinks she loves him now," I stated.
Brutus heaved into movement. He pulled himself into a sitting position and looked at me seriously. "I told Lyme and Domitius that I wanted her Alliance," he stated.
I sprang to my feet. "You did what?! I will kill her the second I can in that Arena, Castillo. I am not forming an Alliance with her!" Driven by fury I began to pace in tight circles, my fingers raking through my hair until static began to crackle.
A click and two pairs of footsteps announced the arrival of our mentors. Lyme and Domitius took one look at me and both sighed, walking heavily into the room.
"Relax," Brutus said as he looked back at me. "There's no way in a million years she's going to agree to an Alliance with us. As far as she's concerned, we are the Devil. Don't you remember how much she hated your tributes last year for their kills? She's a pious little one, that's for sure."
At the mention of last year I growled at him. Brutus ignored both my reponse and the warning look that Domitius threw at him.
"Why did you make the offer then, Castillo?!" I demanded. I faced him, hands on my hips.
"Curiosity," he said casually, shrugging. "And I like to screw with Abernathy."
"Well your curiosity may just find you without an Alliance!" I snapped.
Brutus looked unfazed. He exchanged a glance with Domitius.
"Funny, seeing as I have a hunch District 1 would both choose me in the divorce. Considering that you murdered their sister and all."
My movements would have been too fast for the eye to see yet somehow Brutus hand flew up and caught the hand that was directed at his jaw. His fingers locked tightly around my wrist, easily encircling it, and a jolt of pain streaked down my forearm as the bones clicked.
"Enough!" Lyme snapped. She had been silent and demure until that point, but suddenly she seemed to have grown a foot and several pounds. She came between us and latched onto Brutus' hand. Digging her fingers cruelly into the tender space between the bones in his wrist, she pried his hand from me. As soon as his fingertips slid from my skin we both snapped our arms to our chests, wincing. There was going to be a ring of finger-shaped bruises around my wrist by the morning.
"You two are acting like petulant Capitol children," Lyme hissed, anger blazing in her eyes. I resisted the urge to step back from her; she was terrifying.
"Unless you wish all of Panem to consider tributes from District 2 to be petty and juvenile, you will start taking this seriously and focus all your energies of killing every single tribute in this building."
The final hours of training were boring. No one surprised me and nothing changed. Brutus and I both impressed the Gamemakers with our respective talents in the personal sessions. I threw ten knives and hit ten humanoid targets and then picked up a sword and decapitated them in a serious of fluid blows. I imagined Brutus' performance involved a lot of slamming things with his broadsword and grunting as he pummelled dummies. He lacked finesse.
Brutus and I both achieved scores of eleven while Gloss was on the rung below us and Cashmere trailed behind on nine. She wouldn't have been pleased with that. Before the wall sized television screen in our Suite, I smiled at the thought of her glowering at thescreen one floor below us.
Any thought of smiling though was obliterated when we came to the end of the tributes. Domitius and Brutus leaned forward as District 12 was announced. It was obvious that they both considered their results interesting. I kept one eye on them and one eye on the screen, curious to see what Fire Girl could manage, but detesting the idea of caring.
The first shock was that Peeta Mellark, the short, moon-faced boy who was nothing more than an accidental Victor, scored a Twelve. No one in the history of the Hunger Games had ever scored a Twelve. As young students we had been told that it was impossible, that the Game Makers left it there to give bloodthirsty young tributes such as us something to aim for.
I was livid by the time Katniss Everdeen's score was also announced as a Twelve. They hadn't earned those scores, everyone knew that.
"Why...?" For once, Brutus seemed to be short of words. His forehead was crumpled in a deep frown.
"They must have done something extraordinary," Lyme mused, crossing her legs calmly. She, alone seemed to be the only one not in a state of shock.
I snorted. "Bullshit. They're nothing special. There's no way they showed more skill than we did."
Brutus nodded his head confidently. It was a stark contrast to the previous night when we had been close to killing each other. Fire Girl and Loverboy's unworthiness was something we could unite on.
"Did I say skill?" Lyme snapped contemptuously. Her eyes flashed. "It would take more than skill with a blade or a bow to cause a score like that. No, they must have made the Gamemakers furious. They must have done something so despicable that the Gamemakers wanted to ensure this exact reaction from you. They want to ensure that your targets are now firmly locked on the backs of the Star-Crossed Lovers."
"They've earned the enmity of the Capitol?" Brutus asked dubiously, glancing back at the screen where Caesar Flickerman was rocking in his chair with glee.
"Not the Capitol," Lyme said, shaking her head. "The government. It's no longer only President Snow that wants them dead, I'm guessing."
Outside of the training centre I saw little of the other tributes. Once, I ventured down to the foyer of the tower but found a familiar cluster of Finnick and Johanna at the base of the stairs. Whatever those two were plotting, they were certainly using a lot of brainpower, possibly all that they possessed. Either that or Finnick had finally cottoned on to the fact that Johanna was hopelessly in love with him and had decided to pity her with a few thrusts.
The evening following the scores, Brutus and I prepared for our interviews. Throughout the pawning and preening of our prep teams, I could not shake a leaden, nervous lump in my stomach. I felt as if something important was just out of reach.
When Ceruleun was done with me, I didn't wait for Brutus or our mentors. They'd probably curse me for leaving early but I was restless and the Suite was claustrophobic. In a gown of slithering silver, I rode the elevator down to the foyer alone and was swept to the Entertainment Complex by one of the Capitol's sleek, black cars.
By the time Brutus and the others arrived, the fluttering dwibs backstage had herded me into a space behind Gloss. His eyes had raked down my entire body as I approached and my skin had shivered with the memory of leering Capitol men doing the same. Crossing my arms over my chest I slammed my back against the wall and glared at everyone walking passed.
My attention was caught, however, when a hush fell over the entire room. Tributes, the few mentors that remained and the production people had all frozen and were staring at the doorway. I looked around Beetee's angular shoulder and wished I hadn't even bothered.
Fire Girl stood there, soaking up the awed gazes of everyone in the room. She tilted her head as if approving the fawning. Worse, though, was the monstrosity that she wore. She looked like she'd fallen into a meringue vat that I'd seen once on a tour of a delicatessen in District 1. White fabric clung to her body and spread in a puddle at her feet. For the first time that night, I was appreciative of the slinky dress that Cerulean had put me in.
Recovering their mastery of speech, people began to mutter to each other.
"I can't believe Cinna put you in that thing," Finnick said.
Katniss ruffled, literally. "He didn't have any choice. President Snow made him."
Cashmere, who had wandered with Gloss out of line, tossed her head like a mischievous pony.
"Well I think you look ridiculous," she said haughtily, and flounced back to her place in line, dragging a smirking Gloss with her. I smiled wickedly.
"Meaningful words," I muttered over his shoulder, knowing that Cashmere could hear me, "considering what she normally wears."
As we began to file onto the stage, I basked in the irritation that radiated from Cashmere.
By the time Caesar interviewed District 5, I began to feel as though Brutus and I had missed something. Cashmere and Gloss has given predictably teary and self-centred interviews, but even they had, in some way, questioned the existence of these Games. Beetee criticised the legality of them at all, and Hydra begged the citizens of the Capitol to consider the damage that would ensue at the end of the Games from the loss of such prominent figures.
Brutus was stiff with anger every time I glanced at him, so I knew it was not just me that felt that our interviews had been the only ones to follow the predicted route. We had answered Caesar's questions in the usual terse manner and vowed our desire for violence and blood. The audience had cheered us but the silence that followed Finnick's reading of a letter to a 'one true love' sent shivers across my skin. Again, I felt as if something was an inch out of my reach.
My back was aching with angry tension by the time District 12's interviews arrived. Considering her performance last year, she probably had some dramatic little show for everyone. The audience were a mess, even by Capitol standards. Makeup was streaming down people's faces as they openly bawled in the stands. Caesar took some time to calm them and I desperately hoped that Katniss' interview time would disappear and we wouldn't have to suffer through her show. But eventually Caesar began asking her about the inevitable wedding dress that she wore like a trophy. She smiled down at the frills and ruffles and preened like a peacock. She put Cashmere to shame.
She simpered about everyone missing her wedding which sent the audience into fresh waves of agony. I tuned it out until, apparently prompted, Fire Girl was standing up in front of Caesar, just as she did the previous year, and she began to spin. Everyone in the room was watching closely as she disappeared behind a whirlwind of embers and black smoke. Just as I hoped that something had gone awfully wrong and she be burned alive right before the Capitol's eyes, she stopped spinning and the smoke settled around her. Her ridiculous white dress had turned into something of sleek black beauty, feathers clinging to her body. She lifted her arms and magnificent wings spread from her back.
In response to Caesar's breathless questioning, she said, "A mockingjay I think. It's the bird on the pin I wear as a token." The audience burst into cheers and stamping.
I rolled my eyes and her interview finished up and she flounced back to her seat and her little lover took the stage.
"This is ridiculous," I muttered sideways to Brutus. "It's not even about the Games anymore. They've turned us all into a joke."
He grunted with approval and then his head snapped up. I followed his gaze, realising that I had missed something. Stunned silence had fallen over the entire room and every eye was on Lover Boy. My heart thudded nervously.
In an instant the room erupted. The Capitol leaped to their feet and began to scream and wave and shout and wail loudly enough to hurt my ears. I flinched and eyed the other tributes warily. The majority of them seemed equally surprised as the Capitol and some of the more fragile were trembling at the Capitol's uproar.
"What is it?" I hissed at Brutus, turning to him. No one was even watching us anymore; none of it mattered.
When he turned to me he was glaring, but not at me. I had never seen his features so dark. I had to stop myself from taking a step back.
"The bitch is pregnant," he said.
In the morning Cerulean and I walked in silence to the roof of the Tributes Tower. I was lost in my own thought of the days ahead and I wouldn't know where Cerulean's mind went, if it was even capable of it.
It was impossible to miss the pity that the prep teams had for us though. Some of them cried, silent tears tracking down through their makeup while they flustered around their tributes. Was the whole Capitol like this at the thought of losing their favourites?
"How are you feeling?" Cerulean spoke his first words to me once we were in the Launch Room and he was deftly twisting my hair into several sleek plaits down my back. I thought for a moment about his question- wondering what he meant. It was probably something very different to what I would have meant. My silence must have been too long because he spoke again. "Well, we don't need goodbyes. If any of you are coming back, it'd be you. I remember thinking that before your first Games. I just knew you'd be the Victor."
He was trying to be encouraging. He thought that I feared what lay ahead, that I feared a death which seemed almost inevitable. Still, I believed him when he said he knew I'd come back the first time. I'd known too, just like I knew that this time I wouldn't.
Last Games I'd had every reason in the world to return, I'd had Clove. Now, I had every reason not to return. The only thing left for me was revenge and that lay in the Arena.
When his fingers fell from my hair I turned to Cerulean. "I'll give you a show," I promised without smiling. He frowned sadly at me. I don't think it was a show he wanted anymore.
There was no sentimentality from me as I climbed onto the platform. Only Cerulean was there to see my go, standing by the door with a forced blank expression. I thought about where everyone else would be. I could picture the Training Centre at home, the main room filled with people eager to see the start of the Games as usual. Students who were going to watch their favourite and most hated Victors, people who's tallies they swapped in the schoolyard since they were little.
Domitius and Lyme would already be in the Control Room. I didn't linger on thoughts there. There was no point, I was never going to see either of them again just like I was never going to see the broken cottage in District 2 or the sparse, rocky hills and bottomless quarries. It was all going to be over.
My eyes were closed as I felt the plate begin to rise. I was inside myself, turning to my little ball of fury and hatred that I knew would help me get where I needed to go in these Games. I felt a breeze brush against my face. The air was salty, just like it had been on the beach in District 4. I licked my lips and the salt was there to.
Behind my closed eyelids the light was blinding, too bright to be natural sunlight for sure. I snapped my eyes open and took my first look at the Arena where I would die.
A/N: So I suck. I know, you probably all thought I was dead or something. Not dead, just awful at uploading. So that is why I'm going to upload a bunch of chapters at once, to hopefully make up for it. Please feel free to let me know how annoying I am in a message or review, and while you're there let me know what you think of the chapters. :p
- Lu