Author's Note:

Happy New Year!

Sorry for the irregular updates. I'll try to update every Sunday, but I will miss the odd one.

Thanks for reading and for all your reviews!

Now let's see how Midnight does in training…

Chapter 6

I irately clamber out of bed and trudge through to breakfast. I'm the first one there.

Food is piled high on the table, as I've come to expect since we've entered the custody of the Capitol. Although, this morning some of the plates are empty, or half missing.

Shoddy service. The other thing I've come to expect.

That gluttonous Elspeth and her sniffling ferret.

I take a seat at the table and begin to pile food onto my plate. Scrambled eggs, bacon, beans, black pudding, sausages, bread rolls, chicken, potatoes, oysters…

A lot of this doesn't strike me as breakfast food, but my mouth waters nonetheless. I start with a large spoonful of baked beans and shiny fried egg.

I spit it out. Stone cold. All of it.

I pick up a dried-out piece of bacon, chilled and stiff.

Then I hear from behind me, "What are you doing here?"

I turn to see a bald, broad-shouldered man wearing khakis and a plain grey T-shirt. He has dark stubble and gold piercings in his earlobes.

"Er… Who are you?" I say.

He puts on a falsetto voice.

"Ahem. Happy Hunger Games, and may the odds be ever in your favour."

A baked bean falls out of my mouth.

"Effie?"

The man laughs. He lets his voice drop again.

"You didn't think I wear the garb all the time, did you? There's no cameras today. Speaking of, why aren't you at training?"

"What? That's hours away."

Effie plucks a pain au chocolat from the table and takes a dainty bite.

"Hours ago, you mean. I can afford to sleep in. The other escorts love me even if I show up fashionably late. You, however, there is nothing fashionable about. Now get to training and try to make some friends. Chop chop."

I look at the clock. Twelve thirty p.m.

"That's not my fault!" I whine as Effie pulls my chair back and tips me off it. She starts herding me towards the door by wafting her scarf at me.

I mumble, "Stupid Elspeth and her goddamn vacuum."

Effie makes a questioning noise and says, "There were earplugs in the toiletry bags provided for us." She gasps, "Did you not brush your teeth?! You really are an unholy wretch."

"Great; just what I needed to boost my self esteem before training. Thanks Effie."

"Bruce."

"Huh?"

"My name's Bruce. Effie is my drag name. That's a pretty well-known fact."

"I don't know which name is more ridiculous." I say.

"Neither beats yours, that's for sure." He replies.

I walk down to training with a thundercloud hanging over my head.

When I arrive, tributes are scattered between several different stations.

Clashes and grunts fill the room as tributes fight professional trainers.

Mace hefts a massive hammer and trades blows with a trainer, both ducking and swinging with equal dexterity.

The career boy from Two – who's name I still don't know – has a trainer in a choke hold as his district partner watches. The trainer's face steadily turns red and the boy lets him go.

As he stands, he kisses his biceps. He sneers triumphantly. His district partner claps noncommittally.

Her dark brown hair is still in a braid. As I watch, she walks to a firing range and hefts a crossbow. She fires, misses and fires again. A look of concentration clouds her eyes.

Her aim improves as I watch her, but she still acts frustrated, as though hitting the human-shaped target in the shoulder isn't good enough.

Suddenly a person flies past me and crashes into a wall. Across the other side of the room, the mammoth from District Six is fending off attacker after attacker, all using blunt spears to attempt to overcome the tribute's brute strength.

The tribute must be seven feet tall, with strength that could rival the rest of us combined. Their hair is shaved on both sides; a death-hawk that they have tied in a ponytail.

Once the Viking has dispatched their final opponent – by hurling him into another station – they stand with their arms folded, scowling.

"Watch it, Tardi! Wouldn't want the trainer's to land in the fire."

So that's their name – Tardi. The person who spoke is their District Partner; the one with red hair and that creepy smile. I remember their name from the Reapings – Blaze.

Right now, Blaze sits cross-legged at the campfire station, prodding a stick into a roaring flame. They poke the unconscious trainer with the glowing stick, burning a hole in his t-shirt.

Contrary to their previous statement, Blaze seems very entertained by the thought of a trainer being set alight.

I decide to steer clear of both tributes from Six, for fear of being used as a shotput or as barbeque meat.

I lock eyes with another person who was watching Tardi.

It's Sugar, the pink-haired girl from District One. She stares at me expressionlessly before approaching Tardi and striking up a conversation.

I see. Sugar has the right idea – make allies of the strongest opponents. If only she wasn't so obvious about it. Now I know for sure she feels threatened.

Then I realise I should establish my group before Sugar steals all the good ones.

I cast my eyes about. Who looks worthy to join my entourage?

"Rubis! Good morning my fine man!"

He sees me over his shoulder.

He mutters, "Ah yes, one p.m. The earliest of mornings."

His voice is deep and rumbling. I can feel it coarse through the soles of my feet and up my body. I shiver involuntarily.

Rubis turns back to what he was looking at.

Craning my neck upwards to follow his gaze, I spot Corvid and Izzie perched on a set of monkey-bars, several meters above the ground.

I rush to stand beside Rubis. He wears a slight scowl.

"Hi." I say.

"Hi." He murmurs, still staring at the Goths. I wish he'd stare at me that way…

"I like your hair." I try.

He blanks me.

"So… what are you doing?" I ask.

"Thinking of a way to get rid of them so I can be the one looking down on everyone instead."

"Climb up and push them off?" I suggest, "They're only a couple of emo kids. You're way stronger than them."

Corvid calls down to me, "Why don't you give it a try then, Twelve?"

It's then that I see the axe that Corvid is twirling in their hand. Izzie has a spear over her shoulder. Suddenly I don't fancy my chances.

I feel a cool breath on my neck. I wonder if it's Rubis. I turn, prepared to enter a wonderful moment.

He's lost in his own thoughts. Did I imagine-

" Boo."

It comes from the other side.

I leap backwards into Rubis' arms. A second later, I'm looking up at him from the floor. His arms are folded and he gazes disdainfully down at me.

It's not a bad view from here…

Also looming above me is Minx, cackling with laughter.

One of her blue plaits swats my face while she twirls the other in her hand.

"Gee, you jumped five foot in the air!" she laughs, "Did you think Mr. Tall-And-Hunky was gonna catch you?"

"He tried to catch me!" I scramble to my feet.

"I did not."

"Whatchya up to anyway?" Minx asks.

Rubis directs a different question back.

"Why is the amount of people in my vicinity changing in the wrong direction?"

I glare at Minx for making Rubis feel uncomfortable.

She blows a streak of hair out of her face, saying, "Pff, I was just making conversation. Well then, I'll leave you two to your gay drama or whatever you're doing." She tilts her head up to the District Sevens, "Hey you! Edgar Alan Posers!"

"Clever." Corvid responds.

"So… Whaddaya say I join you up there to watch the show?"

"What show?" Izzie calls down.

Minx shouts up, "Oh, nothing… Just a little scuffle that's gonna go down when Sugar realises what that creep from Ten is up to."

She smirks as the rest of us turn to look across the room.

Sugar stands lightly on her feet, two knives flashing in her hands as she slashes and hacks at a dummy. The rubber casing of the dummy is shredded, bits flying off in every direction. Tearing sounds accompany her manic attack. Stuffing streaks out of the dummy's torso and head.

Sugar has transformed from a cute fifteen-year-old schoolgirl to a cut-throat knife expert.

I guess her attempt to recruit Tardi didn't go well.

The mammoth tribute stands a few meters away, watching Sugar with a regretful look on their face.

"She's scary." I admit.

"She volunteered to help Salto." Minx explains, "But she intended to enter when she was eighteen anyway. Of course she's a good fighter. What else were you expecting from a Career?"

"Not this…" I mutter as Sugar plunges her knives into the dummy's chest repeatedly.

She stabs and stabs until stuffing oozes from over a dozen holes.

Izzie says, "But that's not what you're on about, is it, Minx?"

That's right – Minx said something about the creep from Ten?

I look around at the other people in the Training Centre.

At the edible plants station, Salto stands by a table sorting berries and leaves into two groups. He determines whether they are poisonous or not by comparing them to image cards on the table.

Next to him is Bretta, the elfish-looking girl from District Ten. Bretta tries to make conversation with Salto while she vapes. Salto side-steps out of the vapour and goes back to his plants, but Bretta keeps distracting him.

Under the guise of helping Salto out, Bretta leans around him to place a dark-coloured berry in the 'edible' pile. Salto rolls his eyes and decisively transfers the berry to 'poisonous'.

The age difference, along with Bretta's methods and intentions, is questionable.

I see why Minx thinks Sugar is going to be angry.

With one final strike, Sugar decapitates the dummy. Its head launches backwards into a stand of weapons, which collapses with an almighty crash.

She boots her victim in the chest for good measure and it hits the ground.

Puffing a whisp of stuffing from her bangs, Sugar looks around at all of us watching.

She doesn't see Bretta sidling up to Salto again.

When Bretta still fails to get the young boy's attention, she plucks a fruit from the 'edible' pile and holds it out to Salto to eat.

Salto looks up to see the berry in his face. He startles, then scowls and jabs his knee into Bretta's stomach.

She doubles over and I hear her curse from across the room.

Sugar's head snaps round.

I want to help Bretta. She was unfairly assaulted, and now Sugar looks like she wants to boil her alive.

"Come on, guys!" Minx calls up to the Goths.

"Fine." Izzie says, "Come join us."

"You've got to be kidding me." Rubis huffs. He walks a few feet away from me to watch the showdown.

Minx scurries up a rope ladder to join Corvid and Izzie on the monkey bars.

As Sugar steadily approaches Bretta, armed peacekeepers look at each other uncertainly. Tributes aren't allowed to hurt one another in training.

Sugar sees their guns and expressionlessly holds out her knives either side of her. She lets them clatter to the floor.

Bretta straightens up again. Her chin is level with Sugar's eyes as the two stand face to face.

"What did you think you were doing?" Sugar inquires.

Bretta wears a disgruntled half-sneer.

"Sorry Sugar, I didn't realise the cutie was taken."

The way she says Sugar's name makes my skin crawl.

There is no indication of tone in Sugar's voice when she says, "Salto is not taken. He's twelve. And you should know the only reason I'm here is to protect him, so I would move on if I were you."

"You don't have a right to stop me going after who I want. Salto seemed fine with it."

Salto pipes up, "I was not , you creep."

His voice, though higher than I would expect from a boy, has a blunt accent that reminds me of Pinty.

I'm made uncomfortable by how the two are clearly ganging up on Bretta. The districts like One think they can walk all over the little districts like Ten.

Bretta says to Salto, "You'll come around."

"Put her in the ground, Sugar." Says Salto.

For the first time, Sugar's expression shifts noticeably. Her eyes narrow and her crimson irises seem to deepen in colour. The corners of her mouth curve upwards into a small smile.

I blink and Sugar has Bretta pinned on the edible plants table.

Bretta jerks beneath her in a feeble attempt to wrestle herself free. Her fist shoots upwards towards Sugar's face and Sugar catches it without breaking eye-contact.

She has Bretta's other wrist pinned to the table and starts to slowly pry back the fingers on the hand Bretta tried to punch her with.

Bretta's face contorts with pain until she can't supress her cries anymore.

"Ow! Owowowowowowow!"

She sounds like a wounded chihuahua on repeat.

I can hear Corvid, Izzie and Minx cackling from the monkey bars. Rubis sniggers, thoroughly enjoying himself.

The peacekeepers have to shout over the noise.

One yells, "Should we interfere?"

A woman who looks to be his superior replies, "Nah… She kinda had it coming."

The head peacekeeper sips from a mug of tea in her hand. In the other, she holds a pistol.

Sugar lets go of Bretta's wrist and slams her knee onto it. Bretta is still pinned.

Sugar leans in close to Bretta and I have to strain to hear what she says.

"Say you won't look at Salto again."

Bretta makes a noise that may have been ferocious if she wasn't grimacing in pain.

"Say it or I break your fingers." Sugar persists.

"Jumped-up bitch." Bretta manages.

Crack.

Bretta screams.

The lead peacekeeper raises her gun.

She says, "Alright, that's en-"

Sugar turns her head. With Bretta still flattened and whimpering on the table, Sugar undoes the top buttons of her own shirt.

"Come on now," she says, "I'm only having a bit of fun. You can give me a little longer, can't you?"

The peacekeeper is lost for words. Her face turns a little pink as she watches over the rim of her drink.

Her colleagues seem content with her decision to leave Sugar to it.

There's another crack.

"Sugar?"

Salto has retrieved a knife from an adjacent station and tosses it to his district partner.

Sugar catches it effortlessly and tilts her head, contemplating Bretta like a goose ready to carve.

She smiles and lifts the knife.

"Ok, that's far enough." The peacekeeper says, "Off her now or we'll have to shoot. Don't try any more tricks."

Reluctantly, Sugar steps away from Bretta. Her victim lies panting on the table, clutching her broken fingers.

Sugar stalks off, past the peacekeeper. At the last second, she snatches the mug of tea from the woman and hurls it over Bretta.

Her piercing scream is accompanied by clapping from Rubis and the crazies on the monkey-bars.

Sugar turns to her audience and curtseys emotionlessly.

Gradually, everybody returns to their training.

Minx leaps down from the monkey bars. Somehow, she doesn't break her ankles.

"What are you doing now?" asks Izzie.

"I'm kinda bored. Gonna pick a fight with that uptight snob. Hey! Mace!"

Minx prances over to her district partner. Seconds later, she is ducking and weaving between Mace's arms as they pummel each other. Peacekeepers surround them immediately, trying to separate them, to no avail.

I make my way over to Pinty at the firing range.

"So you finally decided to start training then, fam?"

"Well, I hardly need it, but I thought I'd keep you company."

"Plait-head's already doing that, you get me?"

Pinty bobs her head in the direction of the District Two girl, who is still firing down the range.

She snaps, "My name's Jess. Get it right."

Her arrow pins the furthest target between the eyes.

"Nice one cuz." Pinty acknowledges.

She fires her own arrow and misses embarrassingly. Pinty tugs at her eyepatch.

"Bloody depth perception." She mutters.

I lift a bow from a stand and expertly put an arrow in it.

I draw the string back, squinting down the stick bit of the arrow at a target.

When I let go, the bow and arrow spring together with a twang! The string pings across my nose and I emit a surprised yelp.

Pinty and Jess burst out laughing. Minx twirls past, leaping over a swiping kick from Mace.

She jeers, "Aw, so close. Maybe you'll get a bull's-eye next time!"

I trudge off, embarrassed by the shoddy quality of the bows.

They won't be laughing when they see my proficiency at the other stations. Now, to find one that I'm good at…