Chariot Rides.
A Cannon in the Wind;
The Fifth Hunger Games.
Ceres Cantrell, 13;
District Six Female.
This is so stupid.
I look around the place, trying to get a hint on everything happening around us. After we were done being raped by our prep team, Vita took Breno and I to this room with way too much going on. There are a surplus of Capitol people running around, and there are horses, and...
And there are other tributes, some standing by their chariots and some walking around. Just great. I wasn't particularly planning on interacting with other people today, especially the people that'll probably end up killing me soon.
But things never seem to go according to plan with me. Like, ever. Getting chosen to die in the Hunger Games is just a small example.
"Well, here you both go!" Vita says, grinning that grin of hers. Her stupid orange hair sits atop her head like there's nothing wrong here.
But there's a lot of things wrong. Her hair, for starters, is wrong. Being forced to parade in front of the Capitol is wrong. And sending twenty-four kids into an outdoor arena is wrong.
Everything here is wrong—and look at all of us just going along with it, like the little soon-to-be corpses we are.
Vita leads Breno and I to our chariot, and I half-notice a group of colorful people following us. Great, it's our rape-squad. Thought they'd stay back and find some other kids to strip down and touch all over. I try to ignore them as they squabble on about how everyone is sure to love our costumes this year—which is a lie! If anyone loved what they put Breno and I in, they're insane!
I can hardly walk in these tire-made pants. Yes, tires. Our pants are made of tire-material, while our top is a simple white t-shirt with grease stains all over it. To be honest, the greasy shirt is fine—I think it symbolizes my tomboyish personality perfectly—but the pants are just a bit too much. Will anyone even be able to see our pants while we're standing in the chariot?
Logic. I look, yet just cannot find.
"Okay, so let me explain a few things before we all leave," Vita says, looking at Breno but occasionally glancing at me. Obvious favoritism is obvious. "When you hear the cue, you'll have to hop into your chariots and ride around the City Circle a few times. The world will be watching, so please try to make an impression. There are a bunch of sponsors out there, and you two don't want to lose it all to the pair from District One and Two."
I prevent myself from rolling my eyes. Yeah, because everyone will sponsor the thirteen-year-old girl from District Six over the prissy bitch and the reaped killer. Excuse my language, but come on, who expects for me to win?
That may be the only thing going for me. Everyone will overlook me, because I'm just the small girl from District Six. And then I'll surprise everyone by staying alive longer than those two powerhouse districts.
...If only. I sigh, repressing a grimace. The only way I'll survive past the Bloodbath is with a giant amount of luck. Luck I just don't possess. Never mind actually winning.
Ugh, this is all just so stupid...
"I would use this time waiting, though, to scope out the competition." Vita's grin turns dangerously feral, which doesn't surprise me considering she's an orange-haired lady from the Capitol. It's kinda expected. "See who's the strongest-looking and who's the weakest-looking. See who can be taken out with the least effort and the most effort. If one of you is ever going to win, you're going to have to think like Victors from here on out. Okay?"
We make eye-contact for once, and I look down. Damn my shyness! I could've made an impression! Nonetheless, I nod, letting this woman know I was at least paying attention. She seems to sigh—and after a few more unimportant speeches, she and the rape-squad head off. Well, all of them except my Head Rapist.
He stays back for a bit and smiles at me, reaching out with one hand and...cupping my face?! What?!
"Do well, Ceres," he says in that nasally mess of a voice he has. "We wouldn't want our amazing talents to go to waste."
I take a step back, visibly disgusted. "I'll...try to show Panem just how stupid... I mean, just how amazing you are, sir."
He looks disgruntled at my statement, but goes away to leave anyway. Breno gives me a look, his eyebrow raised, while I just shake my head in response. I didn't mean to call him stupid. It just slipped.
Let's just hope I don't slip in the Arena, though. If that happens, well, I'll be dead.
And nobody wants to die. Not even these stupid, pedophilic Capitol people.
And certainly not me.
Michael Riverbee, 13;
District Five Male.
"Wow, look at them!" I exclaim, pointing at the two from District Seven who're just now walking in.
The girl has on a brown dress that's supposed to look like tree bark, I think. Littered everywhere, though, are these red polka dots. It seems kinda tacky, but I'm sure her stylist knows what they're doing. On her back are tree leaves, which she doesn't seem very happy about, but puts on a smile whenever her colorful prep team looks at her. The boy—the one that volunteered, I remember—has on a brown suit, the leaves falling off his back with every step he takes. Both of them are holding these fake axes, and I can see a flash of red on the boy's weapon.
...Is that supposed to symbolize blood? When the District Seven boy catches me staring and smiles, I quickly look away, mentally swiping at the fog of dread trying to envelope me. Not again, I tell myself, giving Alexandra a wide grin. I'm not going to cry like I did during the Reapings. That's just not me...
"What are you smiling for?" My District Partner questions, her expression completely deadpanned. She looks exhausted, to be honest, like she's just tired of everything going on. Whenever Drusas is around, she puts on that confident smirk like its nothing—but whenever it's just us two by ourselves, it's like the bravado just melts away.
Somehow, my grin gets even bigger. "Why aren't you smiling?" I tease, gently shoving her shoulder. Her face somehow finds the energy to form into a scowl.
"Don't touch me."
"Come on, don't you wanna look at all the costumes with me?" I ask, desperately trying to keep the mood up. I'm not the type of person to just wallow around in depression; I'm loud, lively, smiling for as long as I have to.
And I'll smile for a long time if it'll make Alexandra happy. I just want for us to be friends. I'm not used to people pushing me away like she does.
"They're all stupid," she mumbles, her scowl slowly going back to deadpanned. And then, out of nowhere, she smirks. "Including ours. Seriously, these high-polluted Capitol people are supposed to be the epitome of fashion, yet they dress us like idiots. I'm really doubting the intelligence of some of these morons."
I laugh, clutching my stomach to stop it from hurting. Alexandra is just so funny sometimes! I had a lot of friends back in District Five, but none of them as brash as her. Ria is just kind to everyone; she'd never use so many negatives words like Alexandra does. And Finley, while three years older than me, still isn't as tough as my District Partner is.
The sudden thought of my friends brings a smile to my face. No matter how much I miss them, I know that they'd hate to see me looking so sad. They'd want me to smile. No, they'd want you to survive. Can you do that?
I... I'd like to think I can survive. I mean, I just can't imagine myself dying. Who can? If I believe hard enough, well, I'm sure it'll all work out in the end. The Hunger Games might not even happen, y'know? It might get cancelled or something...
...I really hope it gets cancelled or something...
"Hey, I'm going to go walk around, okay?" I tell Alexandra, still smiling. I'm not one to just sit down; I'm one to move and play around, because what's the fun of being all silent and stiff? Alexandra just doesn't get it yet, but I'm sure she will sooner or later.
Without saying anything, she just rolls her eyes. Of course she doesn't care. Laughing, I run off in search of something to do. The District Eleven pair finally comes into the room with their mean-looking escort and stylists, and both of them are dressed like...leaves. Big, green leaves. The boy—Koda, I remember, because he's not even my age and he volunteered—has a grimace on his face, but he instantly looks calm when the District Eleven girl grabs his hand. They are friends, aren't they?
I'm just about to go over and introduce myself, but then I see something else that catches my eye. The girl from District Six standing beside her chariot, a deadpanned look on her face. Ceres, I think her name is. She's the same age as me, right? Why is she just standing there, not talking to her District Partner or anything?
"Hi!" I rush over and greet, putting on my most charming smile. Ceres glances at me, her eyes uncaring, before she looks down to the floor.
"Um, hi..."
"I'm Michael, from District Five," I tell her, pointing at my chariot costume. "Just in case the outfit didn't give it away..." I'm in a gray, full-body jumpsuit, with fake lightning bolts coming from my back. I like it, to be honest, but Alexandra hated it.
Ceres looks up at me, a frown on her face. "Yeah, I kinda figured..."
Before I can really say anything else, a loud whistle reverberates throughout the room. Both Ceres and I turn to look at a man standing in the middle of the place, adorned in all white.
"Tributes!" He booms, so loud that I have to blink to get my bearings straight. "Get back to your chariots right now! The parade will be starting soon, and anyone caught out-of-order in the next minute will be severely punished! So once again, I repeat, get back to your own chariots!"
"You don't have to yell at us like that," Ceres murmurs, scowling at the man. "Like really, aren't we getting punished enough?"
I stare at the girl, before another smile breaks across my face. She's pretty funny, too. She reminds me of Alexandra, but just shyer. And I like that. If we were in District Five, I'm almost positive that we'd be friends.
But we're not in District Five. We're in the Capitol. We can't be friends.
...But we can be allies, right? Allies... Yeah, I like that.
I like that a lot.
Caio Artelle, 17;
District Four Male.
"Tributes!" The burly Capitol man calls out, deep and threatening. "Get back to your chariots right now! The parade will be starting soon, and anyone caught out-of-order in the next minute will be severely punished! So once again, I repeat, get back to your own chariots!"
For a second, my mouth opens to say something nasty. I mean, who is this guy? He can't just tell us to do whatever he wants just because he's from the Capitol, right?
But despite myself, I don't say a word. I've learned that if I don't keep my mouth shut sometimes, I'll be punished. I'm against the Capitol just like everyone else, because they've done a lot of harm to my life—but voicing my opinions will just get me killed by the Gamemakers. And I don't want that.
Shaking my head, I start climbing on top of the chariot. It's pretty tall, isn't it? What if we fall? Do they want us to fall? I shy away from that train of thought, not wanting to get into a big debate with myself. I think a lot, and if I don't stop myself, I'll end up making myself sick.
When I make it safely on top of the chariot, I look around, seeing how the other tributes are faring. The boy from District One is already on, too, while the girl is struggling. They're both dressed as royalty or something; with their long robes and crowns on their heads, that's the only thing I can think of.
Both tributes from District Two have boarded their chariots, the boy talking while the girl just glares at him. Tension, definitely. As usual, they're both dressed as gladiators.
Just as District Four is usually dressed as fisherman or something, which is exactly what we are. I don't know how I feel about my costume; when I first saw it, I hated it. But now, comparing it to the others, I kind of like it now?
I'll probably just end up hating it again sooner or later. I've had seventeen years to learn how my likes and dislikes work. They change so rapidly sometimes that not even I can keep up. People are always getting irritated with me, but honestly, I don't feel it's that much of a problem.
Looking away from the District Three pair, I notice that Ula still hasn't gotten on yet. It's not that hard, is it? I look down at my District Partner, about to question her—but that's when I notice the way her face winces whenever she attempts to climb on. Her leg. Yesterday, during the Reaping Recaps, the cameras closed in on her burnt leg, while Aeliana commented on whether or not it'd hinder her chances. Considering she can't climb on by herself, it probably will.
When Cassian asked her about it, Ula mumbled something about being stuck in a fire and narrowly escaping. Something about her story sounded really familiar, but I just shrugged it off, not wanting to worry myself with it.
I do that a lot, don't I?
"Do you need help?" I offer, holding out a hand. She looks up at me, before a small smile plants on her face.
"That'd be nice."
Grabbing her hand and pulling her up, she just manages to stand up beside me before the big Capitol man passes by. He eyes us for a moment, but he doesn't linger, and eventually continues on to check with the District Three pair. I make a face at his back, while Ula actually scowls.
"These people are such asses," I say, still frowning. She nods at me, but doesn't say anything, deciding to rather keep her fury hidden. I like Ula. I don't think I can manage to connect with any other tributes; I'd rather stay with her, because she's the only person here that can keep me connected with District Four.
District Four. There's so many memories I have of my home. But so many memories of the war, too. Horrible isn't even a strong enough word to describe the horrible situation everyone was in. It's just not fair how many people died. It's just not fair how the Capitol can just rule over us. Who made them the big bad boss?
My mom wouldn't stand for it. She hid multiple rebels inside of our house, while my dad fought in the war. But he didn't want to risk his life. He didn't have the resolve to make a change. And that's why he ran away during an important battle. That's why he was later killed.
I'm not a coward like my dad. I'm not going to run away. I'm going to fight for my life. His journey ended in his death. Mine can't end like that.
Suddenly, the chariot lurches forward—and for a second, my determination wavers. But will it end like that? Will I die?
Just like everything else, I place the thought to the back of my mind. I'll worry about it later, but not now. Not while I can still smile and wave. Not while I can still breathe.
Not now.
Tet Kender, 13;
District Three Male.
"Just smile," Iris mumbles to herself, over and over again. She bites her lip, clutching the handles in front of us. "Just smile, Iris…"
I stare at her, my head cocked to the side. What happened to the bubbly bundle of joy she was earlier? When I found it difficult to climb the chariot by myself, Iris offered to help—even though she wasn't even on herself. What happened to that girl?
I momentarily look away from my District Partner, instead looking at the pair in front of us. Kostos Sylett and Echo Woods, the District Two tributes. Kostos seems to be asking Echo something, a blinding smile on his face—and in response, she just rolls her eyes.
Is he asking about the parade? Is this why Iris is having some sort of breakdown? Even though I don't understand it myself, I don't want her to feel like this. Back in District Three, I might not have even acknowledged her—but she must've gotten chosen for a reason, so she must be special in some way.
I wish I knew the reason I was chosen.
"Why do we have to smile?" I ask her, the first time I've ever started a conversation with her. She stops mumbling and looks at me, a confused glint in her brown eyes.
"Because…" She seems to struggle for a second, before she gives me a small smile. "Well, Balbina told me that people will like me more if I smile and wave. And if they like me, I…"
I blink, waiting for her to continue, but she doesn't. She just looks away, mumbling an apology—and suddenly, the giant doors to the room open up. Immediately, a gust of wind blows in…
And then comes the cheers. I'm almost positive that it's the the loudest thing I've ever heard in my entire thirteen years of living. The light coming through the door is literally blinding, and the fake glasses I have on don't help me see at all. District One's chariot lurches forward, and the pair are let out the door into the blinding light. Immediately, the cheers grow louder, causing the ground to slightly shake. Is this the parade that we're being forced to partake in? If Iris and I have to go out there, I'm almost positive that I'll end up deaf.
So many questions rush through my brain—and like always, I try to find an answer. My stylist told me that we'd be travelling around the City Circle while the Capitol people cheer for us. She said that they'd love our costumes—both Iris and I are dressed as scientists, with white lab coats and everything—and that they'd sponsor us.
But what am I supposed to do? I know a ton of things dealing with mechanics and the like, but it's things like this that fly right over my head. Am I just supposed to stand here and smile? Why? Why are we doing any of this?
Aren't I here to die? What do parades have to do with anything?
It took me a while, yesterday, to process everything. When I was reaped, I didn't know what to do or how to react. I never really do. But afterwards, I realized that I was just picked for the Hunger Games. The Hunger Games, where twenty-four children are forced to fight to the death. The idea was ludicrous and intimidating enough, so I never really cared nor had the time to watch these so-called Hunger Games. So basically, I'm completely in the dark about everything.
But I know that I'm eventually going to have to learn. The odds of me winning with the knowledge are already low enough, so how can I possibly win with no idea of what's going on? The odds, as they say, just aren't in my favor.
But the odds of me getting picked in the first place were astronomically low, too. The odds may not favor me, but I'm going to try my hardest until the bitter end. I may be awkward and maybe even a bit naive to what goes on around me, but my intelligence is nothing to snooze at.
"Here we go," Iris mumbles, and our chariot is the one to lurch forward this time. "Make sure to smile, Tet. They...want us to smile..." I glance at her once again, and her mouth is twisted up in an awkward grin. I honestly don't understand what she's so anxious about.
As the chariot passes through the doors, and I'm instantly blinded by light, I realize that I'm not nervous at all. Just confused. What does this have to do with having us kill each other? I just don't know.
When my vision comes back to me, I'm instantly shocked by the amount of people. To my left are people. To my right are people. All of them are standing up; clapping, smiling, cheering.
"WHOOOO!" The Capitol people scream, making my ears ring. What is this? I think, wincing at the noise. It's like a giant wall of energy closing in on me, and I just don't know how I feel about it. A woman with golden hair tosses something at us, but we're moving too fast for me to see what it actually is. Are they really happy to see us?
If they are, then why are they doing this?
Our chariot continues down the brown road—and now, most of these colorful people have focused their attention on Ula Dylan and Caio Artelle, tributes of District Four. Iris glances at me and smiles reassuringly, while I manage to nod back. The noise hasn't gone down at all, but it almost makes me feel a bit better that they aren't focusing solely on us. I just can't think straight with everything going on. Only one thought has flooded my mind since the very start.
None of this makes any sense.
Maybe that's why I can't bring myself to fully understand everything. The Reaping. The luxuries. This parade. The Capitol. The Hunger Games in general. None of this makes any sense.
No sense at all.
Kostos Sylett, 18;
District Two Male.
"They love us..."
Echo glances at me, her features uncharacteristically friendly. She can put up a personable facade, that's for sure. Just like you then, huh? I shake the thought away; I can't afford to get all brooding now, not while many of these colorful people could end up saving my life.
Sponsors are a given, considering how I'm one of the few who volunteered—but with the right attitude, I can persuade these people into believing I'm the perfect Victor. Cheerful, attractive, strong. Even when you're everything but, huh?
"Of course they love us," Echo says, giving a particularly rich-looking guy a charming smile. The chariots start to finally slow down, even though the cheering doesn't quieten at all. The horses lead all of us tributes to a rather large mansion, creating a semi-circle around it. "Even though you're annoying, we aren't like the rest of these tributes, Kostos. We actually appreciate the Capitol's benevolence, unlike the rest of these district snots."
I hum at that, giving my District Partner a simple shrug. If I were to be completely honest, I'm more marveled by the Capitol than appreciative. These colorful, weird-speaking people brought thirteen districts to their knees. It might be a bit childish of me, but it's pretty awesome when you really think about it, right?
For a while, we just stand in front of the mansion, the cheering non-stopping. I hear a few names being chanted, and I'm extremely grateful when I hear my name in the mix. I mean, I volunteered for this. I did it for the thrill, to fill this stupid void in my heart, to be more than someone who you could just kick to the curb.
I want to be something in life. But not just anything. I can't even count how many random jobs I've done in District Two, just to quit the next day. I need something exciting—something that can have my heart pumping, something that can make me noticed. That's why I volunteered for the Hunger Games; not so I can murder a bunch of kids for no reason, but to fill the void in my heart.
Sometimes, it's all I think about.
Suddenly, the cheering starts to get lower and lower. I look up, already knowing what's going to happen next. And I'm right. Up on, like, the tenth floor of the mansion, President Kronin walks out and stands on the small patio. His black hair is styled up to look absolutely devilish, and the red suit he's wearing just adds to that image. When he raises his hand to speak, the area just goes totally silent. It's almost surreal.
The president's eyes gaze over us, silently accessing each tribute. When they land on me, it's like the air completely vanishes, like I can't take a breath without him knowing. Knowing every little thing about me. No, he can't know anything about me. Chill out, Kostos. You've kept appearances up for this long, and you can do it now. When his gaze finally leaves me, I almost let out a sigh.
"Tributes," he says, slowly. I latch onto every word—more out of curiosity than fascination. "For five years now, the twelve districts in Panem have offered the Capitol wonderful warriors to repent for their wrongdoings. These Games are slowly annihilating the rebels. For this, the Capitol thanks you for your sacrifice to better this nation. I thank you. As usual, I wish you a happy Hunger Games, and may the odds be ever in your favor."
When he turns around and walks back into his lavish home, the cheering of the Capitol people comes back with even more volume than before! I hold back the urge to wince—and suddenly, District One's chariot starts moving back to the garage. My future allies, if Echo doesn't go and ruin it with her attitude. When they pass by, I meet the gaze of Vesper and Adeline, and put on one of my most charming smiles. First impressions are everything, right?
In response, Adeline gives me a smile, too. She's cute, I think. Just like all the other girls in District Two. The ones that followed me around everywhere, the ones that cheered as I trained, the ones that I had so many one-night-stands with. But they were just that. One-nighters. Not even the attention of females can fill this void...
That's why I need the Hunger Games. It's my last option. If I die, I'd have absolutely nothing to lose.
But you won't die. You've trained. You've gained the attention of the Capitol. You can do this, Kostos. You can...
After one last ride in front of the Capitol, we're all brought back into the garage. All of the tributes are immediately embraced by their prep team—minus us, for some reason. I don't mind the delay, though. For a moment, I just close my eyes and let my mind relax. All that cheering was a bit discombobulating, to be honest, and keeping up my cheery attitude all day has left me exhausted. I just, for a while, want to be alone. To wallow in misery for just a little while.
But I can't do that. Not yet, at least.
"I think it's only fair that we approach our allies," I tell Echo, grinning, as if I'm excited. I am, in a way, but I'm honestly too tired to care much. Without even waiting for an answer, I jump off the chariot and take off the annoying gladiator helmet, willing the tiredness away.
Echo sighs, climbing off at her own pace. "Do we really have to?" And her mood is back.
I laugh. "Of course we do! They'll think we don't like them if we don't approach, Echo, and what're we going to do without them?"
"But they're weak."
"And yet both Heloise and Arsen allied with them, and they won." I lower my voice, trying to sound seductive rather than over-excited. Even though I know she's not into that, it's at least worth a try. "Come on. It'll be fun."
Fun. I say it like I'm on some sort of school trip. But I'm not. The Hunger Games aren't supposed to be fun. They're deadly, nightmarish, adrenaline-draining.
And that's exactly why I'm here. The Games aren't supposed to be fun, but I'll make them fun for as long as possible. And when that gong rings, I'll have to get straight to business.
"Fine." Echo groans, stomping off towards the District One duo. "You people seriously irritate me..."
I snicker, following close behind. "Okay, Madam Woods."
Adeline Callard, 18;
District One Female.
"That was great!" I exclaim as we pull back into the garage. Vesper glances at me, but doesn't say anything. That's fine, though. Really, it is. I've grown used to the relationship between us; I speak, he listens. And there's nothing wrong with that.
When we come to a complete stop, I let out a breath, the nerves rolling off my body. Right before the parade, I'll admit, I was a bit nervous. There were so many people out there—and what if they didn't like me? What if they thought I was second-rate compared to the District One females before me? What if—?
No. I shake my head, forcing the smile on my face. Don't do this. Not in front of everyone. Sometimes, I admit, my thoughts can get a little depressing...but doesn't everybody get like that sometimes? As long as I'm around people, though, I can ignore my insecurities and be the amiable person that's expected of me.
You can take a guess at how much I don't like being alone.
"You two were great!" Aquila exclaims, rushing over to us. I smile appreciatively, about to thank her—but her eyes are focused on my District Partner. "Especially you, Vesper. If only you had smiled a bit more..."
He lets out a loud groan, putting his head down. "Just get me out of this thing," he grumbles, trying and failing to raise his arms. Vesper refused to partake in the parade at first, and the Peacekeepers had to get involved. There was screaming, fighting—it was all just horrible. In the end, Vesper was chained to the chariot by his wrists. I tried to calm him down, but he was too worked up to really hear my voice.
And I can't get mad at him for that. Things are changing so rapidly in our lives. Sometimes, when I think about it, I almost want to cry...
Vesper wasn't the only one I saw that had to be detained, though. The red-headed girl from District Eight, too—and I even heard a bit of arguing down with the District Twelve tributes. I can't even imagine what they were doing to get in trouble. When I'm alone, I think about a lot of things, and the other districts are one of those things. I notice how District One and Two are given special treatment, and I don't think that's fair. They deserve just as much as we do...
"I think the parade was fantastic," I say, shoving my thoughts away. The Peacekeepers have come to unlock Vesper's chains, and he gives them a rather sour look when he's finally free. "It's amazing how much the Capitol cares for us. I'm really thankful, Aquila."
"Don't thank me. Thank President Kronin." She waves me off, as she usually does. But... But that's alright. She doesn't have a problem with me, I don't think, so there's no reason for me to have a problem with her. And vice-versa. "Anyway, Jewell is waiting upstairs for you two. After the prep team gets here and showers you both with compliments, we'll go up and meet her. Exciting, isn't it?"
She wasn't looking at me, but I answer anyway. "Very!" I've always wanted to meet Jewell Galamory, but not exactly under these circumstances.
Before anyone else can say anything, though, someone coughs from behind us. We all turn around—and standing right there, in their golden costumes, are the tributes from District Two. Kostos and Echo, I think their names were. They're meeting with us already?
For a second, that thought makes me think of the upcoming Games, and I can't help but frown. But that second goes away fast, and I grin at the two before anyone can hopefully catch it.
"Hi!" I greet. "I'm Adeline Callard, and this here is Ve—"
"We know who you two are, obviously," Echo interrupts. I blink, surprised, but she keeps talking before I can apologize. "Anyway, this idiot wanted to meet the both of you. I don't really understand why, but—"
"I don't understand why, neither," Vesper interrupts her. His eyes harden, the same fury from before slowly coming back. I place a reassuring hand on his shoulder, but he just shrugs me off. "But okay. You just met your competition, the same people who'll want to kill you in the Arena. Now what?"
For a tense moment, nobody speaks. I don't even know what to say. Why did Vesper just go off on her like that? Sure, it was a bit rude to interrupt me, but that doesn't mean he has to mouth off to our future allies! In the background, Aquila and our prep team stare at the exchange, eager for some pre-Games drama.
Suddenly, Kostos chuckles, scratching the back of his head. "Well this is awkward."
"More like annoying." Echo takes a step up—and so does Vesper. My District Partner is taller and looks stronger than the other girl, but she's not backing down one bit. "Anyway, I'd like for you not to interrupt me while I'm talking. Understand? I'm trying to be nice here—"
"Don't bother. What's the point, anyway?" Vesper says, interrupting again. I tense up, bracing myself for the incoming explosion. Why are they being so hostile? "In a week, you're going to die. What's the point of you doing anything when life is just going to be stolen from you?"
"Look, if you keep talking, this little alliance is over!"
I gasp at the words leaving her mouth. What's happening? Without these two to protect us, how...how are we..?
"Please calm down, you two," I try, but Echo silences me with a glare. Kostos whispers something in her ear, his expression somehow more amused than anything, but she quite literally shoves him away.
Vesper stares at the girl, before a small smile graces his lips. "I wasn't going to ally with you stuck-up assholes in the first place."
There's a heartbeat of silence, before Echo quite literally groans and stomps away. Kostos stares at her retreating form for a bit, and then turns back to us, smiling his charming smile. With a simple nod at me, he rushes along after her. Vesper smirks to himself, before his smirk quickly turns into another one of his glares, and he also stomps away. Aquila and his prep team follow closely behind, while my prep team comes up and starts asking me a multitude of questions, questions that I can't even understand. The other tributes that were watching the exchange start going on with their own things, while some of them stare at me.
I look to the floor, my mind nearly tearing in half. Why did that happen? Is Vesper really leaving our alliance? And what about me? Did Echo's proclamation include myself? What am I going to do? I... I can't deal with these kind of things. Not by myself. Please not by myself.
I don't know what to do.
I need someone.
Author's Notes: Hey, guys! I'm not even going to comment on how I feel about this chapter. But anyway, just know that I'm not going to reveal everything about a tribute on their first POV. These last four chapters were meant for me to get a feel on each tribute. Who I like writing, who I struggle writing, and many other things. So yeah, POVs from here on out may or may not give you more details on the tribute. It depends on the tribute, so yeah.
Anyway, you've finally seen every tribute! Yay! Because of this wonderful occasion, I will have a poll on my profile so you can vote for your top 6 tributes. Please do vote, because not only is it fun, but it'll give me an idea on which tributes are you guys' favorites and least favorites.
So yeah. Go and vote. Like, right now.
A review would also be heavenly! I know a lot of you are busy during times like this, but you can't even understand how happy reviews make me xD So yeah, please review~
This is a long Author's Note. Time for the questions and personal questions. Y'know, to kinda give you a template on how you may want to review?
What are your thoughts on each of these six tributes? Which POV was your favorite and why? Which POV was your least favorite and why?
And now for the personal question.
The Chariot Rides have just started. You're dressed in something extremely revealing and pretty ridiculous. Nonetheless, the Capitol still cheers for you. How do you react? Do you put your head down in embarrassment? Do you ignore the fact that you're practically naked and wave and smile? Or do you do something different altogether?
So yeah, that's pretty much it for me. Next chapter will be Training Day One! From here on out, there will be 4 (or 3) POVs each chapter instead of 6. So expect speedier updates, maybe? Idk.
Once again, don't forget to vote and review! I love you all!
Bai! ^_^ (Time to catch up on reviews sigh...)