Chapter 36
The film of my Hunger Games opens with the Capitol anthem.
I wonder how they will portray the story this year. They have done tragedies, vagrant-to-victors, pretend-preps turned assassins, tales of underdogs and villains rising.
It soon becomes clear to me that they are presenting my story as that of a hero – too important for his sooty hometown, finally getting the world to see that his power is not wishful thinking; it is fact.
Typical; as soon as I stop believing my delusions, the country suddenly decides I was right.
We open with some short clips of training; just enough to present me as confident and calculating, edited to look like I formed the Careers alliance all by myself.
They linger on my score of eleven. Of course, they don't show how I killed a gamemaker to achieve it.
We are shown a sweeping drone-shot of this year's arena, before the camera rotates around all twenty-four of us on our pedestals. The countdown commences.
One tribute is too eager.
Verona leaps off of her pedestal without warning, ready to dash into the middle. Then she is blown to smithereens.
Live in the auditorium, Chazzer says, "Looks like someone was desperate to get started! Rookie mistake!"
I laugh along with the audience. Snippets of Verona's speech – completely skipped over on the film – buzz in my head. I can't remember much of it, but I am the only one in this vast room who even knows it happened.
Except Minnesota.
I sneak them a discrete glare.
They smile innocently. Then they gesture subtly for me to look at Chazzer.
He is staring at me, expecting some input.
I say, jokingly, "Hang on! This tape is making it look like I beat a bunch of imbeciles! At least make me look impressive!"
The crowd guffaws.
The Games begin. Onscreen, I am torn between loyalty to my allies and my love.
I am not frozen in fear – oh, no. I am calmly debating who most deserves my help.
Rushed camera shots show Eugene dragging Elsie away by the hand. Minx and Mace tearing each other apart. The Careers baring down on Tardi. Corvid and Izzie fighting, back-to-back.
Pinty's cry pierces through the speakers before the me onscreen rescues her from Yucky's grip.
How did she go from being restrained by one weedy tribute, to coming so close to killing me?I answer my own question:
Because she just went from one weedy tribute to another. Duh.
That thought embarrasses me and I hide my blushing cheeks behind my hands. Luckily, this can be taken as shock, because now Rubis' blood-drained face fills the screen.
Izzie and Corvid run away, howling in triumph.
The soundtrack that accompanies their escape can only be described as a villain theme.
I am shown to have delivered the final blow to a downed Tardi, despite the obvious gash in his throat and the brains oozing from a dent in his skull, the exact shape of Greg's club.
With Jess plastered to the steel wall of the cornucopia, Greg, Sugar and Salto go inside to examine our supplies. Rob and I stand over Rubis' body. I am an absolute wreck.
Honestly, I don't know why I was so worried about my complexion after all those burns. I look bad enough with red, blotchy cheeks and crinkled features from crying.
Rob crouches beside Rubis.
My past-self says, "Um, could I search Rubis instead? That's what he would have wanted."
Despite my quavering voice, I could not sound more certain that Rubis would want me to be the last person to touch him.
Rob tries to persuade me that he should do it and I agree, sceptically.
I am shown running towards the other careers.
"Nobody touch the cool-ass swords!" My shout fades as I leave Rob with Rubis.
But now I see why Rob wanted me gone.
To my utter amazement, he puts two fingers to Rubis' neck to check for a pulse. Then he leans over Rubis' face to listen for breath.
Chazzer exclaims, "Woah-ho! Midnight, it looks like somebody else was sweet for Rubis, behind your back."
I give past-Rob the angriest glare I possibly can, as though I can force his face away from Rubis with hate-fuelled telekinesis.
Rob mutters, "So, they did count Verona's death as part of the Games, after all… Mind blown…"
He prods the centre prong of his trident into Rubis' blood-soaked oesophagus, taking aim.
Rob says, "Sorry, my dude. I'll make this quick."
Rubis rasps, "Don't. I'm not a threat to you."
Rob replies, "I'm sorry, man. You won't live much longer, anyway."
He looks at Rubis' freshly-cut stumps, to prove his point, but they have already began to clot over.
"How are you doing that, man?" Asks Rob in amazement.
"Would you believe me if I said it was the will to see my true love again?" Rubis answers.
"Sorry, dude. No chance."
Rubis laughs, which transforms to a hacking cough. Blood spatters Rob's shoes.
Rubis says, "That makes you smarter than Midnight."
Rob scoffs, "Low bar. Don't get me wrong, I love the dude, but even I've got more brains than him."
Chazzer booms, "OOOH! Low bar?! More like low blow!"
His interruption really ruins the tension.
Rob sighs, "I've still gotta kill you, my man."
Rubis begs, "If you like Midnight so much, you'll spare me. For him."
Rob looks unsure.
He says, "If I tell him you're alive, he'll abandon the careers to look for you."
"Great," Says Rubis, "Easy way to get the moron off your backs. But seriously, how would he feel if he found out you betrayed him? What kind of friend would you be?"
Rob's face crumbles.
"I would be ashamed to call myself a Seasley." He asserts.
With that, Rob hefts his trident over one shoulder and heads to the cornucopia.
Rubis shuffles away, barely alive, to hide and rest. It becomes clear to me why he didn't rejoin the careers – he would have been the weak link; dead meat.
But as to why Rob let him live… Surely it wasn't as simple as wanting to keep me happy?
I dread the moment that my murder of Rob will appear on screen, presenting me, irrevocably, as the villain.
Then Chazzer says, "What a crafty, two-faced bugger that Rob was. Thinking he could play both sides, that he could suck up to you, Midnight. Anyone who watched the Games could tell that he only let Rubis go so he would die a slow and agonising death."
"Exactly." I say, "He soon got his come-uppance, though!"
"That he did!" Agrees Chazzer, "He totally deserved to get killed by… the one who killed him."
"Yeah!" I say, "I don't regret pushing him in one bit!"
Chazzer continues, "He deserved to be pushed in the… what was it again?"
"Acid." I say.
"Right! Acid! How could I forget?"
I doubt he did forget. I don't think he watched the Games at all.
We return our attention to the film.
While we have been talking, Rubis has been sent a parachute. He uses his feet to pop the cap off the canister. Inside is a singular syringe with a paper label wrapped around it.
It reads, Stumpfresh. Swift healing for severed limbs. Instructions: inject into back of thigh.
Rubis slowly looks up from the medication. He gazes directly at the discarded parachute-cylinder, where a blinking LED indicates a camera.
Rubis drones, "Thank you so much for this generous gift. You have no idea how much easier this will make things for me."
A timelapse commences, showing him wriggling about on the ground, gripping the syringe between his toes and trying to impale his own leg.
Eventually, he resorts to building a tower of bricks and rubble, which is excruciating to watch him do without arms. He wedges the injection between two rocks so that the needle points outwards.
Gritting his teeth, a thoroughly drained Rubis jams his leg backwards, onto the spike.
He stumbles to his knees, injection sticking out of him, then tilts to lie on his stomach. He contorts his other leg until his big toe barely reaches the syringe. Then he moves up and down, much like a beached salmon, attempting to push the syringe's plunger.
I can't help but grimace through this entire scene. Did they have to do Rubis dirty like this?
Minnesota is holding in a laugh.
Chazzer says, "I bet you're jealous of that injection, Midnight; it actually got to impale him."
I share a wistful expression with the enraptured audience.
"You took the words out of my mouth." I sigh.
When Rubis finally manages to medicate himself, colour begins to return to his face and he moans with relief.
I hadn't realised that I've been holding my breath. I unknit my eyebrows and breathe a genuine sigh of relief, that Rubis is no longer in pain.
Lingering shots show us where the other tributes end up – Tuna spying on Minx and Mace, Anita befriending Kujo the pigeon, Pinty eating out of a trashcan – before the focus returns to me and the careers.
When the alliance is shown, Sugar, Salto and Greg are presented as the antagonists. They fall for my false vulnerability, not seeing the real threat in their midst.
On the stage, I give a coy smile, as if to say, Now, you see my genius.
There isn't a lot going on in the arena that I wasn't a part of. Now I see why the Capitol wanted to keep me alive.
It's as though the action was written to revolve around me. The old Midnight would have said that someone should write a book about me.
Ha. As if I would make a sympathetic protagonist.
The careers hunt down Anita.
Sugar appears even more psychotic than she was in real life, with close shots of her sadistic smile and unblinking eyes.
I, on the other hand, am totally over all this murder business.
Give me some real competition, onscreen-Midnight seems to say.
My pants of exertion are cut to sound like sighs of boredom.
"After some bigger prey, were you, Midnight?" Chazzer jokes, "I can't wait to see the carnage you create when you really let loose." He adds quickly, "Not that I don't know what happens, of course."
The film maintains its portrayal of my superiority during the big fight between Sugar, Salto, Greg and Rob – I am shown to lounge like an emperor amongst our supplies, as though neither side would turn against such a valuable ally.
Sugar falls to her death, Salto limps away. Greg slips into unconsciousness, Rob and I go exploring.
Now the film shows me something that I haven't seen.
While Rob and I wander aimlessly, Minx and Mace are fighting to the death. The rest of the arena does not exist to them. They only care about ending their personal feud, which the film does not bother to delve into.
We weren't shown Minx using her jackhammer to dig up the landmines from around the pedestals. But as much as the Capitol don't want to show her using their own weapons against them, they can't avoid showing Minx chucking bomb after bomb at Mace.
He is not to be outdone, though, and charges Minx with his giant hammer. The battle is grander than anything I took part in.
Minx grimaces at the decreasing number of grenades in her pack.
She scuttles into a house to hide. Mace rounds the corner. He's lost her.
In the house, Minx pants and nurses a graze on her ribcage. She huffs her blue bangs out of her eyes and flops onto the sofa, an exhilarated expression on her face.
Just then, a slimy, pink shrimp flies through the window. The fishing hook in it catches in the sofa-cushion next to Minx.
Minx peers at it with curiosity.
Attached to the shrimp is a note.
I can help you kill him, it says.
"Who are you?" Minx hisses, standing up quickly.
A tense silence drags for a minute.
Then another shrimp earring flies into the room.
Minx picks it up from the ground at her feet.
The note on this one says, B ack door. Don't blow me up, please.
Minx prowls to the back door of the house.
She opens it, bomb at the ready.
Standing in the back garden, now without earrings, is Tuna. She has no weapons on her.
Minx says, "Needlessly cryptic, Fish Girl."
"I do try." Tuna replies.
"So, how are you gonna help me kill SnootyMcRichFace?"
We cut to a scene of Minx and Tuna sneaking to the football pitch at the back of the college, while Mace storms around, shouting Minx's name.
Minx uses a knife she stole from the careers to cut the nets out of the football goals. Tuna ties rocks to the edges as weights, and the duo are set to kill their target.
I know how this fight ends.
Chazzer is leaning forward with genuine curiosity.
I say to him, "It's interesting to see what was going on behind my back. If Rob and I knew the outcome of this fight, we would have smashed our next encounter, no questions asked."
Chazzer says, "I believe you. You would have been totally prepared for… for the winner – winners? – to, um…"
I don't help him.
Onscreen, Minx taunts Mace into the orchard. Tuna lurks in a tree, ready to pounce.
As Mace walks beneath her, she drops a net on him. He struggles. Minx materialises with a grenade. This time, Mace cannot outrun the blast.
The audience unites in one, giant wince as pieces of Mace splatter the foliage.
Chazzer says, "Minx and Tuna! What a victory! I was this excited the first time I saw it!"
I don't doubt it, as that time is now.
Tuna says to Minx, "Now that the immediate threat is over, I have some information for you."
"Go on…" Says Minx.
Curiosity radiates from her.
Tuna explains, "I saw Salto earlier. He was injured and on his own. He didn't see me, but his head was full of wrackspurts; the little creatures relayed to me everything that was happening with the careers."
"Cool!" Minx grins, "Anything we can use?"
Tuna goes on to explain how Sugar had been killed, Salto had left us, and Greg was severely injured.
"And most importantly," adds Minx with a smirk, "He's alone."
The camera pans to where she is looking. Rob and I are walking right past them, oblivious to the two girls hiding among the trees.
"Thank the Great Erumpant." Says Tuna, "Team Girl Power has found their next victim."
Minx sniggers, "You talking about us, or Rob and Midnight?"
"Us in this circumstance, though either could apply." Tuna smiles.
Minx says, "One question for ya first, Tuna. Why, exactly, are you helping me? I appreciate it and all, but I'm starting to think you might have ulterior motives…"
She smirks as though this just makes things more exciting.
Tuna replies, "Of course, I want to earn your help to win the Games. But that doesn't mean we can't be friends until one of us dies."
"Fair enough." Minx shrugs, "To friendship, in the middle of the bloody death-games!"
She holds up an invisible glass in a toast. Tuna mimics her and they pretend to drink.
Such light-hearted authenticity threatens to spark jealousy within me.
Chazzer comments, "Pah, females. What you and Rob had was far stronger, eh Midnight? None of that mushy friendship garbage."
Nope. Because I wanted to be more than that, while Rob politely kept me at bay.
Bile creeps up my throat as I fully accept that I wanted to be with Rob, mere days after I thought Rubis had died. That's not how I feel anymore.
Now, Rubis is dead, and I don't think I will ever move on. What was lust before, I realise, is now real love.
As if things couldn't get any worse.
I am allowed to let some of my devastation show, because I am now watching Minx and Tuna creep up to the common room that we were using as a base.
Greg looks up, groggily.
"Mr Rainbow? Is that y-"
Tuna takes a dagger from our ample supplies and drives it into Greg's heart.
A cannon blast echoes in the distance.
"Aw! No fun!" Minx complains, "I wanted to leave a mess for the boys to find!"
"You can still do that."
Tuna steps back and allows Minx to create the largest pool of blood she possibly can.
Then Minx writes her gory message on the wall, while Tuna douses the room in petrol.
Minx uses a generous amount of grenades to wire a bomb, before the girls sneak away to wait for Rob and I.
Chazzer grins, "Ooh, this is getting juicy! I wonder what happens next? That was rhetorical, of course… I totally know what happens."
A hovercraft sends its grippers through the smashed window to retrieve Greg's body.
When Rob and I enter the room, Rob shouts, "Hippo on a harpoon!"
And thus begins the chase of Minx, which ends with Rob and I in a hole, about to be exploded.