Blaine Abernathy: A Canary Caged

Disclaimer: I do not own The Hunger Games

Chapter 4: The Opening Ceremony

Blaine's POV

Breakfast the next day was quiet. As predicted, everyone ate their meals while Haymitch poured himself more spirit. We agreed that he could get his flask back as long as he contributes to helping in this year's games. He said he would see some worth in Katniss or Peeta. It wasn't long before one of the tributes spoke out.

"So, you two are supposed to give us advice," Katniss said.

"Here's some advice. Stay alive," was Haymitch's advice before he burst out laughing.

I groaned, giving an apologetic glance to Katniss to forgive my father's stupidity. I paused to see the hardness in the Baker boy's eyes.

"That's very funny," Peeta said. Suddenly he lashes out for the glass in Haymitch's hand. Knocking it to the ground, as it shattered, on the floor, "Only not to us."

Haymitch and I were bewildered. Never before has a tribute ever challenged or taken Haymitch's alcohol. Haymitch paused and then was ready to strike. However, Katniss draws a knife and slams it in front of Haymitch's hand. Right in between his fingers.

Effie shrieked, "That is mahogany!"

"Well, what's this?" Haymitch murmured, looking at me as he moved his hand taking hold of the knife. "Did we actually get a pair of fighters this year?"

"You're asking me," I scoffed. "I told you last night that we might have something to work with."

Midnight meowed in agreement before he took another sip of his milk.

"Can you hit anything with that knife beside the table?" Haymitch asked.

Katniss paused, thinking thing's through in what her capabilities were. It wasn't long before she grabbed the knife from the table and threw it between the two panels on the wall. I stared, fascinated; there were few knife throwers with accurate precision. Even during the games I couldn't get that discrete when throwing the knives. Now I was curious about Peeta, so I stood up and raised my hand to him.

"Hit me with your best shot," I said.

Peeta was shocked at what I was demanding. He would protest, but I glared, telling him to hit my hand. He sighed before providing a good solid punch into my hand. I winced, retracting my hand back before nodding at Haymitch. Peeta Mellark knows how to give a good blow. As I grabbed some ice and let the swelling go down.

"Stand over here. Both of you," Haymitch ordered as they complied. He inspected them from head to toe. I knew what he was doing. He was seeing their physical condition to see if their looks may attract a sponsor. Sure, the Hunger Games wasn't a beauty pageant, but sometimes, appearances can get you anything. "Well, you're not entirely hopeless. Seems fit. And once the stylists get hold of you, you'll be attractive enough."

"Better make a deal so they will cooperate," I said.

"All right, I'll make a deal with you. You don't interfere with my drinking, and I'll stay sober enough to help you," Haymitch offered. "But you have to do exactly what Blaine and I say."

Well, isn't this a shocker? I thought.

Sure, it wasn't much of a deal for them. But yet again, they can do the impossible. By making Haymitch do a godforsaken deal. Something I have been trying to do for the past twelve years. Now I'm jealous but in a good way. Peeta and Katniss thought this through before they agreed.

"So, help us," Katniss said. "When we get to the arena, what's the best strategy at the Cornucopia for someone—"

"One thing at a time." Haymitch interrupted, taking a sip of another spiked drink he made again.

"You really want to know how to stay alive?" I asked.

Peeta nodded while Katniss stared at me.

"You get people to like you," I explained.

Katniss frowned at that.

"Not what you were expecting?" I said." When you're in the middle of The Games, and you're starving or freezing, some water, a knife, or even some matches can mean the difference between life and death. And those things come from sponsors. And to get sponsors, you have to make people like you. And right now, sweety, you volunteering might get you one sponsor. But the attitude won't get you a good start."

She scowled when I said this.

Honestly, Katniss doesn't know how to cooperate, which has gotten us victors to survive the games. Simple . . . Run. But half the other Tributes don't take our advice but go into the bloodbath and never come out alive again. It's better to avoid the battle than enter chaos.

Peeta saw something in the window and stood up, going to it, "There it is."

As the Capitol came into view. He awes at the architecture and scenery. It was something he hadn't seen before. Something unique.

"It's huge!" he awed. "That's incredible."

The scenery disappeared once we were in the tunnel that led to the train station. Already a crowd was there who supported the outlier districts. Peeta smiled and waved his hand to the crowd. His response made them cheer louder.

"Peeta, we love you!" someone yelled.

Peeta turned to Katniss, "Come on. Come on."

Katniss stared at him with distaste.

Peeta turned back to the crowd.

Haymitch gave a click of the tongue facing Katniss as he gave her a knife, "You better keep this knife. He knows what he's doing."

I shook my head and said, "In a few minutes, you'll be taken for the Opening Ceremony. You'll be put in the hands of your stylist."

"You're not going to like what they do to you," Haymitch warned. "But no matter what it is, don't resist."

"But—" Katniss started.

"No buts. Don't resist," Haymitch said as he took a bottle of spirit and left the dining car.

After that, I started clapping my hands. "Well, that's a first."

I went back to the table and picked up Midnight. "You two are the very first to make a deal with Haymitch. I kind of feel jealous, but hey, like he said yesterday. Spunk, that's all it needs." Then I started to leave the dining car but stopped at the door. "Like he said. . . Don't resist. It's better bite your tongue."

With that said, I left.

.o0o.

Haymitch, Effie, and I were escorted to the Training Center to prepare for tonight's Opening Ceremony. I glanced around, spotting a few of the victors, though none of whom I was familiar with. I sighed, for it would be nice to talk with Finnick or Johanna. It was common to see Finnick in the Capitol. As for Johanna, it was rare.

She only comes when Blight drags her here for the Hunger Games. The thought made me chuckle, knowing that was true. I bet Blight has received some bruises already or a black eye.

Anyway, the elevator reached the top of the building. The doors opened as Haymitch stormed his way to his bedroom. Though he stopped at the bar to grab himself a drink. I shook my head, making my way to my bedroom. Once I opened the door, I walked to the bed, setting Midnight down. The black cat gave a stretch and started exploring the room.

Meanwhile, I sat down, grabbed the remote, and turned on the screen. It flickers before showing the opening of the Caesar Flickerman show. This year, Caesar Flickerman was blue. As in blue hair and a blue suit. His current guest was Seneca Crane. As I watched him with his light blueish-gray eyes and dark hair. Followed by his beard's unique style in an intricate design, his hair appears to be heavily styled with product, and his attire of a black suit with red trim.

"I think it's our tradition," Seneca answered Caesar's question. "It comes out of a particularly painful part of our history."

"Yes, yes," Caesar agreed, nodding his head.

"But it's been the way we've been able to heal," Seneca explained, being animated with his hands. "At first, it was a reminder of the rebellion. It was a price the districts had to pay. But I think it has grown from that. I think it's something that knits us all together."

The crowd cheered.

I rolled my eyes as I got out of bed before going to the closet to see the outfits the stylist had created. There was a dressing bag hanging on the door. Not wanting to strain the fabric, I took hold and unzipped the garment bag to see the dress.

"This is your third year as Gamemaker," Caesar started. "What defines your personal signature?"

I zoned out as I stared at the dress.

It was not what I was expecting. Most dresses I received are tight-fitting. But this one was different. It was a half-sleeve V-neckline with drapes creating a sleek silhouette. It gave an A-line silhouette that stopped at the knees. As usual, the dress was black, except for a gold metallic border brocade and on the cap sleeves too. It was simple and elegant.

I checked the label, wondering who had made it. There was Portia and Cinna. It had to be Portia, a woman who could craft such a lovely gown. Instead, on the label of black silk were the golden initials of C.P. I paused because this initial seemed familiar, yet I couldn't quite put my finger on it. But then I realized Cinna made this dress. Yes, some male designers make women's dresses. Yet most men stick with their own gender. So, to see a man's craft in such a way was surprising. Or maybe Cinna and Portia collaborated in making this dress.

There was a note card as well. Written by hand, giving instructions to wear the golden heels and the jewelry in the velvet case. Nothing else. Not telling me how to do my makeup, hair, or anything. As if this designer is letting me choose how to present myself in his design. I smiled softly at this.

"So now that you've seen them, what do you think about this year's crop of recruits?" Caesar asked Seneca, breaking me out of my daze. "Are there any surprises that we can expect this year?"

I turned around back to the screen.

Seneca paused, thinking, "It's really hard to tell just from a Reaping, but I think this is a very interesting mix."

"Yes, Caesar agreed.

"And whenever you have a volunteer from an outlying district, that's something you can't ignore."

"True," I muttered, as I went to the vanity where the velvet case was.

I picked up the case and opened it to find a golden pendant. The pendant wasn't big, more like a medallion of solid gold with twelve written in roman numerals. It was simple and nothing gaudy. I smiled again, for this designer might be onto something.

Setting the case down, I went back to bed, changing the show to the scenery. I clicked through a few settings before stopping at a beach. As the waves softly crash along the sands. The sound of the seagulls cawing in the distance. Out of all the districts, District 4 calls to me. I've only been there three times. Yet, something about the beach appeals to me. If only I could live there. Yet citizens of the districts can't move to other districts. The only exception was the peacekeepers who came from District 2 or the Capitol. Otherwise, everyone was trapped unless given permission to leave.

I sighed as I got ready for tonight's event.

.o0o.

I waited at the Training Center, at a booth dedicated to the victors. Watching above near the city circle in wait for the Opening Ceremony. I adjusted my necklace as I tried to be presentable. For some reason, the designers have made the dress comfortable along with shoes. I glanced at Haymitch, as his outfit seemed to suit him, in navy blue. But as always, Haymitch didn't bother about grooming. Seeing that his tie was crooked, I came over to fix it.

"Thanks," he grumbled. Then he stopped seeing the dress I wore. "Pretty dress."

"Thanks," I murmured, then pecked his cheek.

Effie also changed her appearance, wearing a pink and yellow silk dress. Her wig now matched the soft purplish-pink with a yellow bow. She smiled as she gestured us to the stands to join the others. Not a second longer, she scurries off to the other escorts.

Haymitch headed over to Chaff, and the two shared a friendly conversation. I glanced around to see who was here for this year's game. Gloss and Cashmere talk to Brutus and Enobaria. Typically, the Careers would stick together. (Though I wished Lyme was here.) Beetee and Wiress were talking about some inventions with those from District Five. The morphlings from District 6 were sitting in a corner, zoned out, as they glanced at the screen. Then the other agriculture and food Districts huddled together until my eyes spotted the newest addition to victor's life. Miya Kit.

Poor and lucky little thing, I thought.

She was now fifteen, from District 10, victor of the 72nd Hunger Games. However, she was different compared to the rest of us. The reason why is that she killed one person at the very end. No, her district male Tribute, eighteen-year-old Chance Smith, did all the killing until the final three. Chance was determined to get Miya home. Once John passed away, I tried to help Colton to get one of his tribute's homes.

But her victory has led to a furious rage in the career districts. During the early 60th games, the Careers had a winning streak. Enobaria for the 62nd, Gloss for the 63rd, Cashmere for the 64th, and Finnick for the 65th. Until Acre Fields from District 11 broke the streak for the 66th, Augustus Braun from District 1 won the 67th. However, Colton Hides from District 10 took the 68th win, preventing the Careers from winning. Afterward, the outlier districts kept winning: I from District 12, Annie Cresta, a non-Career from District 4, Johanna Mason from District 7, and Miya Kit from District 10. Until recently, Wade Rankine won the previous Hunger Games.

Brutus laughed as he bragged about his latest tribute. A boy named Cato has been trained as a Career since he was trained at the age of ten. Preparing kids for the Hunger Games was technically illegal, but the Gamemakers allowed it for entertainment. It has yet to be determined when the Career program started for Districts 1, 2 and 4, but they have a lot of wins.

"Sugar cube," purred a seductive voice.

I rolled my eyes to turn and face Finnick Odair as he held a sugar cube. I smirked and took the sugar cube, placing it in my mouth. The sweet, pure sugar was addictive, and Finnick would agree. We both like sweets. In fact, when we were at the Capitol on business, we would chat in one of the lofts, eating sugar cubes and other desserts. Our relationship was strange indeed. Though we ignore the rumors of us being the it couple. We are nothing more than friends/siblings. Although, we avoid the topics when booked together with a client or clients.

"Hello, Finnick," I murmured. "How was your travel?"

Finnick scoffed, leaning against the rail. "Long and boring, the same old, same old. What about yours?"

"It was interesting. I almost had to deal with a fight this morning." I answered, crossing my arms. "Got some fighters with a spark. As Haymitch puts it, spunk."

"Really," as Finnick stared at Haymitch, who was now pouting by the bar, tempted to order a strong alcoholic beverage. But instead, he asked for some ginger ale. Chaff, next to him, was laughing at this.

He was really trying to keep his end of the bargain. When we arrived at the Capitol, he talked to the stylists for the Tributes. Making sure the costumes weren't. . . inappropriate. Usually, that was my department, but Haymitch wanted to do it. The only thing I knew about the costumes was that they were different, along with the stylish names Portia and Cinna, which didn't surprise me.

I was actually glad, in fact, of the new stylist, not Chanel or the previous ones. Two Capitol men named Narcissus and Dorian. Those two idiots had covered the tributes in coal dust while wearing just their underwear.

Chanel did ten years for District 12. A coal mining district, as she put the tributes in skimpy or the worst imaginable attire to attract the crowd. God, I despised my costume too, so skimpy, too near lingerie, that my body attracted the male population. Along with an accessory of an ancient civilization crown to give the illusion of fire while the pickaxe was on fire, it sparks when you slam it on something. That was how Michael and I got Sponsors. The damn pickaxe!

The thought of Michael made me sigh, his voice consciously repeating in my head. 'Live . . . free.'

Till. Snap, Snap, snap.

I blinked, coming out from my daze to look at Johanna. She smirked in satisfaction from interrupting my thoughts. I glared at her before sticking my tongue. In her response, she chuckled and said, "Bite me."

I smirked, leaning forward and mimicking a bite. Finnick laughed, getting in between us as referee. "Alright you two, let's behave. Unless . . . you want too rough house in my room?"

In response, Johanna and I slap Finnick upside the head.

"Men are pigs," I stated.

"I couldn't agree more." Johanna agreed.

"Um . . . excuse me." whispered a small voice.

All three victors turned around to stare at Miya. She was timid, shaking with fright as she stared at us. She saw our years in the arena. Though probably not much of Finnick, for she would have been five. But Johanna and I set an example of the deadliest people. Johanna, with her act of being defensible, till she snapped, killing insanely, with an ax. While I was the silent killer. I could set nightmares of coming to your bed and slitting your throat. Though, a quick killer I was. Static, Leo, and Lapis didn't have a happy ending to fight. Taking Statics wires, and strangling him to death. Accepted my sponsor's dagger and pierced it into Leo's heart. And we all know what happened to Lapis. From my action, you can see I wasn't a friend towards the Career victors, other than District fours victors and Lyme.

"Yes, Miya, what can we help you with?" Finnick asked in a caring voice. It wasn't an act. When a child is in conversation, Finnick becomes sweet and gentle.

Miya relaxed a little. "When does the Ceremony start?"

Finnick checked his watch. "Right about . . ." as he held three fingers, three, two, one and the trumpets went off. "Now."

Miya giggled; afterward, we offered if she would like to sit by us to watch the ceremony. She was cautious and secured until Finnick wrapped his arm around her. Charming the teenager, she quickly complied. Johanna and I shook our heads, as we came over, sitting down next to them.

We watched the Career plus District 3 tributes come out on their chariots. The crowd went wild in their costumes. District 1 dressed in all pinks of luxurious materials and feathers. Cashmere compliments her Tributes, Marvel, and Glimmers outfits that Johanna blurted out. "Boring!" that Miya giggled to that.

District 2 was in golden armor like Grecians. District 2 tributes Cato and Clove after Brutus bragged once more about how powerful he was. "Yes, a brute and garlic clove."

District 3 were dressed in silver as their headdresses were mechanical parts.

District 4 were dressed in blue robes trimmed with a fish design while wearing headdresses of different seashells.

Finnick came in to defend District 4. "Aren't the shells lovely, Miya. The beaches are covered in seashells. A beautiful home for the creatures that live in the sea?"

"Until the Capitol eats it," Johanna added.

That response made me laugh.

District 5 had some metallic glitter garb reflecting the light from their surroundings. District 6 wore something bizarre that was supposed to represent motion, with a bronze crescent moon on their heads.

District 7 was quite different this year. They were known for lumber; therefore, their costumes were trees. This time, the two tributes wore paper that had been folded to create an intricate design. Johanna groaned as she complained they got a better costume than her. I chuckled, shaking my head.

District 8 was wearing shredded fabric of blues and purples. District 9 was dressed in silver suits and headpieces, possibly representing silos that store the grain. District 10, as usual, were dressed up as cowboys and cowgirls from the old western movies. District 11 were dressed as farmers with silver wreaths on their heads.

Then it was Katniss and Peeta's turn. I was worried about their costumes. Wondering what they were going to be. Was it going to be another miner outfit, or worse? But I didn't see coal miners or coal. No, I saw fire. I stood up, grabbed the binoculars, and zoomed in. They wore black leather fitted jumpsuits, capes, and some sort of a headdress on their head that was on fire. I could hardly tell if they were flames or just Capitol magic. Katniss or Peeta don't seem to be complaining physically or showing any signs of pain. But I also caught something out of the ordinary. They were holding hands.

Why were they holding hands? I thought.

Some of the Victors (Manly the Careers) argued about this but shut up when Blight, Chaff, and Haymitch told them to suck it up. They did, as Cashmere muttered, "Twelve having the worst outfits." As she said this, looking at me. I glared at her, ready to say something about her outfit. Her cleavage makes her look like a whore. But Seeder got to it, which brought the rest of us laughing.

Anyway, I paid attention to the City Circle. When somebody tossed a rose at Katniss, she caught it. A screen was focused on her. Curious about what she would do. Since the Capitol thinks us Twelve are spontaneous. Katniss sniffed the rose, then smiled in its direction and gave a kiss. Immediately a hundred male hands caught the kiss and placed it over their heart.

This surprised me.

This was going to be an exciting Game, indeed.

What do you all think about the changes I made in the story so far? I hope you are enjoying the story.

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