Tuesday: Seven of Clubs
I sit by myself in my bed, much too comfortable to sleep.
I feel slightly peaceful, and that's the scary thing. I think it'll be much more real tomorrow morning when I'm on my way to the arena, but tonight is the last night I'll be able to sleep peacefully.
I wish I felt more nostalgic. I think I've just accepted that whatever happens is going to happen. And I've denied the possibility of death. I'm going home tomorrow.
Truth is, I've enjoyed my stay here at the Capitol a lot. It's nothing like home, though. I could never live in the materialistic society of the Capitol for more than a month or so. I miss the genuine, hard-working people of my home. I'm going to get back to them.
I really miss my cousins, and Evalina and my friend-group, and especially Bryce.
I have to wonder where he is, what he's thinking. Knowing Bryce, I'd say he's probably awake. Maybe he's sitting outside, looking at the stars. The same stars I'm under.
He's probably messing with something in his hands, as he always does. Maybe it's the mascara I gave him before I left. Maybe it's a piece of scrap metal he found lying on the ground, or even a scrap piece of wood.
Bryce likes to bend metal and snap pencils. A habit that probably wouldn't be considered bad if we lived somewhere like the Capitol, where you can probably stop anywhere and pick up a new box of pencils. That must be pretty great. I'll bet a little boy who broke all his pencils in the Capitol would have no problem getting some more.
We have enough pencils, but not nearly a surplus. We usually run out by April or May, especially with the drafters coming and taking them from schools.
I wonder if Empress or Dream ever ran out of pencils. Hm.
Thinking about pencils makes me feel tired, but I'm not fooled. Even if I think I can sleep, I know I can't. I sit and fiddle with the necklace Bryce gave me. I wish I didn't feel so… Conflicted about what to feel.
I shouldn't worry, but that thought just worries me. I mean, I have an ally (who has trained), and I'm confident in the skills I was able to get from training. The Careers may be scary, but there are a good share of non-Career Victors. Every District but Eleven and Twelve has at least two.
District 6 has four. Soon to be five.
I get up and leave my room, looking to wander for a bit.
I walk to the end of the hallway, to a door that leads out to the balcony for our floor. I walk outside and feel the sweet, warm summer breeze. It's absolutely beautiful here.
I lean against the railing, finally able to see the stars. The same stars that they must be seeing at home. I really hope that Bryce is looking, too. The same stars. A pretty, thin crescent moon. Here in the Capitol, the sky is cloudless and crystal clear. I sure hope Bryce's sky is the same way.
Bryce isn't the only person I suspect to be awake, though.
My little 13-year-old cousin Abner is probably awake, as well. Maybe outside.
He probably tried to get sleep, but had some kind of nightmare. Either way, I'd bet that he's awake. Maybe he's thinking about me.
I bet he went to the market alone yesterday morning.
I always used to take him out on Tuesdays.
He would laugh and say, "Wake up, Tuesday! It's Tuesday!" That just cracked him up. He would laugh and laugh as I got ready for the day.
He'd always ask me why my Mom and Dad decided to name me Tuesday. I always told him that they liked it much better than Saturday. I wasn't born on a Tuesday, and that just cracked him up.
I was conceived on a Tuesday, (thanks for the info, Mom and Dad), so that's the name they chose.
As weird as that is, though, my parents were actually the sweetest, most amiable people you'd ever meet. I had a lot of fun with them. I miss them a lot.
If I live, I'm with my cousins and friends and Bryce. Dying would suck, but… I would be with my parents again. And that doesn't exactly sound terrible…
Oh, I can't fool myself. Death scares me to, well… Death. Just as much as it scares anyone else in this building.
I hear the floor creak behind me and look up. It's Garrison.
He puts an arm up in a silent wave to me.
"Hi," I say in response.
He looks down at me (I'm tall, but he's very tall), and I notice how messed up he looks. He looks all kinds of frazzled, his hair everywhere and his eyes droopy with drowsiness. He also wears a pair of glasses that he has to push up his nose, which I didn't know he needed.
"What happened to you?" I ask him. He comes to the other side of the railing to give both of us some arm room. He leans against the railing and stares down at the city.
"It's so bright here, even at night," he comments, in a quiet and tired voice. I let the subject go when he changes it.
"I know…" Most nights at District 6, our power gives out around 11-11:30 at night. It doesn't come on until 7 or so the next morning. By that time, the houses are cleared out. Parents go to work, children go out to school.
I wanted to work so badly as a child, until the first explosion took my mother with it.
I had begged my father to never work again, but now I understand why it was never that simple.
He couldn't just stop working. He had to provide for not only himself, but also for his child. Just when I had gotten over the fear of the factories, another accident (not as large, he was one of the two that died) took him, too. I was sent to live with my aunt and uncle.
I must have that distant look in my eyes (Bryce says it appears when I recount my childhood), because Garrison clears his throat awkwardly, successfully snapping me out of my thoughts.
"Sorry." I don't know why I apologize.
"You alright? You looked kinda…"
"Dead." The word startles Garrison, but that's pretty much how Bryce describes it.
"I guess…" mumbles Garrison.
He might see me actually dead, I think. And yeah, it scares me. A lot.
Any illusion I may have had of being tired is gone now.
I take a seat and sigh. He must been thinking the same thing as I am, because he slowly takes a couple steps away from me.
I think we aren't too different, him and I. Death is much too real to both of us. We aren't fooled into any sense of security.
He knows the reality of the Games more than anyone here.
He knows the likelihood that at least one of us will become nothing but another dead face on the TV.
I'm sure he's determined as me to not let that happen.
"Tomorrow's gonna suck," he says, still sounding tired. Truer words have never been spoken.
I nod a bit, not very intent on thinking about it.
"I really can't sleep." Way to state the obvious, Tuesday.
He half-shrugs, half-nods. I wonder if thoughts of his sister are keeping him awake. I wouldn't doubt it. I really wouldn't blame him, either.
Garrison's sister was beautiful. I was 14 when she went into the Games, I think. She had this beautiful, curly black hair with more volume and body than anyone else's that I've ever seen. The announcers even expressed hope that she had a shot (which heated the District's excitement and hope to a boiling point).
I remember how hopeful the District was for her safe return. And I don't remember when she died or how, but things were so much more melancholy after it happened.
I don't want that to happen to me, and Garrison doesn't want it, either, I'm sure.
I don't want to show so much potential just to fail.
That's certainly not the Tuesday Imboden I know or want to be. Down to the core, I'm sure I'm the most determined of them all.
Garrison and I sit (well, he stands) in an awkward silence for a while. I feel the summer breeze on my face and hair and try to let it calm my nerves.
I look up at the stars and remind myself again that they're the same stars that Bryce is looking up, and Abner and Evalina and the rest of my District. I have to overcome, for them.
I get up and nod awkwardly to Garrison before walking slowly back to my room. I lay in the much-too-comfortable and curl up in the much-too-plushy blankets, closing my eyes.
It all begins tomorrow.
~.~.
Solitaire- Head Gamemaker
I sit upside down over my bed, staring at the wall and shuffling my deck of cards in my hands nervously until I hear the knock on the door.
"It's unlocked!" I call, shuffling the cards.
Yin and Polymestor come in and take a seat. I had invited them over for some before-Games cocktails and merrymaking, but I'm still kinda super nervous and frankly not sure how much I really want to talk to them.
Kelley, the O'Callaghan boy, brings the cocktails on a tray and leaves them. I want to invite him to drink with us, but I already know how, uh, progressive I am as compared to the more, uh, conservative other two.
"I still can't believe you got the O'Callaghan," Polymestor says.
I force a light laugh and nod. I don't feel very amused, though. I still like to treat my Avoxes like people.
"President Milionus liked my interviews," Yin says, smiling. "I last another year."
"It certainly was interesting."
"That silly District 3 boy!" laughs Polymestor. "What are you thinking right now?"
Yin taps his fingers together, fidgeting "nervously," and says, "Fuck!" Those two burst out into loud laughter. I laugh a little bit too. It was pretty ridiculous.
"Oh, well, you can see how I may be feeling a little overwhelmed," whines Polymestor in his "girl" voice. I take a drink, but the jokes still aren't funny.
"Her name was Tha- Tha- Tha- Tha- Thalia. Oh Thalia!" shouts Polymestor dramatically. Yin laughs, egging him on.
"It's a lot of pressure, cut them some slack," I say, frowning.
"Oh, lighten up! It's just a joke!" Polymestor says.
I force out a laugh, "I guess."
Polymestor widens his eyes, hooking his fingers inside his shirt collar. "My… My best friend… Baby brother and toddler sister… My life… Is so… Hard…" he sniffles. Yin laughs a little.
I cross my arms. "Alright, cut it out now. I'm serious." I know the tributes have suffered. And I know it's not right to dehumanize anyone's struggles, Capitolite or not.
Besides, they may be pawns, but they're still people. They're people pawns. If they're going to find themselves tied up in my game, we may as well treat them well beforehand.
"Lighten up," says Polymestor, laughing. "It's all in light humor."
"It's also rude."
"Fine, geez." He rolls his eyes. Yin glances between us, not exactly sure what to say or do. If we're going to be friends, he's going to stop egging on Polymestor's insensitivity.
"Are you nervous?" he asks. Leave it to the brilliant interviewer to ask questions.
"Yeah. I mean, my job is on the line. My life's still on the line, too." I bite my lip, shuffling the cards nervously.
"Relax," says Yin.
"You're a smart little girl," says Polymestor. I feel slightly uncomfortable, and only feel slightly better glancing at Yin.
I fidget with the cards nervously, glancing at the cards that I still need to write on with magic marker. I have ideas, but I'm a pretty big procrastinator. I guess now's the time, I don't have much time to wait.
"Hey, you'll be fine. You're Solitaire Chiarella, after all!"
"Even if I'm alive at the end of this year, what if I don't have a gimmick for next year!?" And I start thinking about the future again. The 37th Hunger Games, the 38th! Maybe even the 39th! What if I end up like Edward O'Callaghan!? I don't want to be tried in front of the whole nation.
"Uh, Solitaire?" I look up, snapping out of my thoughts and fears.
"Of course." I take another sip of cocktail, hoping the alcohol will scatter my nerves.
"It'll be just fine," Yin says. "Promise." I think it's… Genuine.
A real compliment from Yin Kozart!? What is this world coming to!?
I accept it graciously, with a smile and a small nod of thanks.
"Besides, it'd better be good!" Polymestor says, "And give us lots to announce about! But not too much!"
I sigh, nerves coming back. Yin taps my shoulder and I snap back into it.
"You're spacey when you're tipsy," he says.
"I'm not tipsy," I mumble. Okay, maybe I'm a tad tipsy.
"You probably shouldn't drink much more. Hangovers." Yin puts his glass away.
"Avox!" Polymestor shouts, clapping his hands. Kelley quickly comes to assist him, taking his dishes. As he leaves, Polymestor dusts off his coat with his hands, putting his chin up in a superior way. I try not to scowl or point out the fact that Kelley is a person, dare-I-say even a friend.
Yin can see my discomfort. He shakes his head a bit. I'm not sure if it's out of disbelief, or a warning to keep a cool head.
I still don't know what I think of Yin. He's an ass, but he's getting better, I suppose. I still hate his stage persona to death. He quickly changes the subject, and the three of us talk and have some tea (I still feel very protective of my Avoxes).
The next time I look at my clock, it's 11:30.
"Wow, it's late." I comment. The others nod.
Yin stands up. "I think it's time that we should get to our own rooms."
"You go ahead, Pretty Boy, I want to have some alone time with Solitaire!" I cross my arms defensively.
"I think it's time to go to our own. Rooms." Polymestor grumbles, but he starts out the door, Yin following. "And don't you call me Pretty Boy. Ever."
I see them both out the door, crossing my arms. "I don't need protecting like that," I inform him, scowling.
"Of course you don't, Princess."
"You're an ass." But I guess he's the good kind of ass.
He laughs a little bit. "Sure, alright, I'm an ass. And you're never an ass."
As immature as it is, I stick my tongue out at him. "Goodnight, Yin."
"Sleep tight. Don't let the bedbugs bite. And also, you probably want to get to work writing on those playing cards." He winks and laughs. I try not to laugh and slam the door in his stupid, smirking face.
A/N: Yay! That means it's time for the Games next chapter! And my POV's for tributes are exactly even! *Gio dance* YES!
I posted a couple drawing-dumps on Tumblr. They're found on my Tumblr blog pomp-angrily-eating-turkey-legs, or on the Tumblr tag #Celtic's SYOT.
Also, there's a poll on my profile for your favorite of my characters in the story. I'll take it into account when I write POV's in the Games, so please go ahead and vote!
I may or may not wait for people to catch up before going to the Arena, we'll see how it goes. Also, next chapter I'll post the points that my people have, the ways to get points, and the item costs so you can start sponsoring!
Chapter Question: Because I still can't decide: How do you ship Solitaire and Yin? Friends, enemies, or more-than-friends?
Thanks for reading and reviewing! Remember: drawings, poll, sponsor points.
The fun begins next chapter!