Blaine Abernathy: A Canary Caged
Disclaimer: I do not own The Hunger Games
Chapter 20: The Feast
Blaine's POV
Waking up early, I got out of bed and prepared for the Feast. I did my morning routine and fed Midnight, who was happy to get his food. I did not feel like wearing any of Cinna's clothing. Instead, I went through the closet, finding an old outfit from my last stylist.
I wore a pair of leather pants, a sleeveless black blouse with off-shade stripes, and a blazer. I did not feel like dressing to impress. I did the basic makeup to please the Capitol and the same with my hair. I stopped to stare at my reflection in the vanity. I stared at my reflection, wondering what I would have looked like if the Capitol didn't do the remake. To have my olive skin and dark hair again. What my body would have been.
All of this is a lie.
Even Haymitch's appearance was a lie.
Everything was a lie.
The only genuine person was Lucy. My mother. I remember her olive skin, brown eyes, and dark curly hair. She was true while her friend and daughter have been altered to please the Capitol. If only she were alive right now, how would she react to what her daughter has become?
No doubt ashamed.
I sighed with disappointment.
Once done with my makeup. I quickly checked for approval and then stared at Midnight, who was watching me. I took a deep breath and petted him. Last night was challenging to grasp that Cinna was Chanel's son. Instead of making it a game, he should have told me from the beginning. Then again, I would probably be angry at him, but not this much. I have spent the last five years on lies and deception. Drowned in them to protect the people I care for. All I ask is people don't lie to me.
Shaking my head, I patted Midnight one more time before leaving. I walked out of my room and quietly headed out the door, not waking Haymitch or the staff. I needed some alone time. I did not need Haymitch or Effie to discuss what happened last night.
The escape was a success. I smiled at myself for still having my skills in stealth. Finnick used to tease me, calling me a ninja by how I acted in the arena. A silent killer of an assassin, unlike his gladiator approach in his game, when capturing tributes with a makeshift net and stabbing them with a trident. Many people think it's wrong to face your problems by running away. But being a victor means facing our problems with the burden we carry. I, on the other hand, was Cinna.
How can I accept him when he never spoke honestly to me? On whom he actually was. He was Chanel's son, the woman who gave District 12 humiliation for twenty years in the parade. The woman who presented me as desirable while teaching me how to manipulate people. The woman who has helped me survive in Snow's Game…until I sent her away.
I sent her away to protect her and her family.
And now her son is in the picture.
There was more as well to this dilemma. Cinna cared about me. Saying he had had a crush on me since we were kids. Many males, if not females, have a crush on me. However, hearing Cinna say this bothered me dearly. I don't quite understand these new emotions. They were so foreign, almost alien.
Yet I could see it so easily under his mask demeanor. How he stares at me with those green eyes. How he stands so close to me. He talks to me like a friend instead of some crazy Capitol person. The way he acts and speaks to me in the words of a concerned friend. Cinna is different from the boy I met twelve years ago. The boy I met was shy and mainly read through books or drew pictures I had never seen before. He only spoke when I asked him what he was reading. Literature was strange in District Twelve. Yet the Capitol boy read me stories or explained the plots.
Closing my eyes, I imagine one rare moment in meeting the boy. He sat alone by the sunroom in the far corner of the Training Center. He sat there and looked out the window in a daze, trying to find something past through the glass. Just sketching in his black journal and leaving the world behind. Never saying a single word unless it was a story. Maybe it was his shyness. How he was quiet made me forget about him so clearly.
It doesn't matter.
Nothing matters in the world I live in. In a world that consists of the Hunger Games. Where children fight to the death on live television. In a world of hunger, pain, oppression, and death. There was no light to lead us through the darkness, even when the sun shone brightly over our heads, even from the ashes of the Dark Days.
Hope.
It's the only thing stronger than fear.
.o0o.
The Feast is free for all for those who seek aid from the Gamemakers. It was mandatory to be there or close to the Cornucopia to participate. If absent without a thorough explanation earns termination. Except only a few know that. As Claudius explains it:
"Each of you will find something in a backpack, marked with your district number, at the Cornucopia at dawn. Think hard about refusing to show up. For some of you, this will be your last chance."
And it was.
Peeta needs the medicine to survive the rest of the game. It was Katniss's only chance, or she'll have to win this game alone. There were only three main competitors in this round. Cato, Clove, and Thresh. Either physically dominated or trained professionally in this event. Make the wrong move or miss the perfect opportunity, and you're dead. It's a game of tactics.
In a game of chess, the pawns are gone, and the important figures are in the game. The white king is now at a safe corner for the next round. White queen head-on with a black queen, black king, black bishop, and black rook. What an interesting game.
I sat on a plush incline chair as I stared at the monitor in the private room. A glass of cider in hand, anticipating for the game to begin. Is it wrong to feel adrenaline in your veins? Expecting the specific tribute to survive another day after this second bloodbath: The Feast. It wasn't long before the game began, and the table rose from the mouth of the Cornucopia.
However, Katniss wasn't the first person to grab her bag. I cursed, slamming my other fist into the chair as Jacqueline grabbed her bag. That sly little fox hiding inside the Cornucopia till the moment came. Katniss ran out as fast as possible towards the horn, snatching the bag.
Just as she was about to turn around the horns mouth when Clove appeared out of nowhere and threw a knife at Katniss. Katniss fell backward, dodging the blade, quickly loading an arrow and fire. Clove ducked and charged at Katniss with a knife. Katniss staggered back with blood on her face when Clove slammed into her, knocking them to the ground. Clove pinned Katniss's shoulders with her knees and feet on her hands.
"Where's Lover boy, District 12? "Clove asked. "Still hanging on?"
"He's out there now. Hunting Cato," Katniss snarled at her. As she screamed from the top of her lungs, "Peeta!"
Instantly Clove jammed her fist into Katniss's throat at the windpipes. I growled in frustration, not at Clove but at Haymitch and myself. Peeta was right for this to be risky, and now we all have to face the consequences. If Clove kills Katniss, Peeta will die from his injuries.
"Liar," Clove said with a grin. "He's nearly dead. Cato knows where he cut him. You've probably got him strapped into some tree while you try to keep his heart going. What's in the pretty backpack? That medicine for Lover Boy? Too bad he'll never get it."
How did she know about the medicine? She couldn't have known about the medicine unless somebody had told her. My blood boiled cold as Haymitch walked into the private room with a scowl on his face at the situation at hand. Clove opened her jacket to show a range of knives as she pulled out a curved blade. Katniss struggled against her while Clove shoved it against her neck.
"Forget it, District Twelve. We're going to kill you. Just like we did your pathetic little ally... what was her name? The one who hopped around in the trees? Rue? Well, first Rue, then you, and then I think we'll just let nature take care of Lover Boy. How does that sound?" Clove asked., sadistically.
Thresh had made his way to the Cornucopia from behind. He was going to sneak his way to grab his pack until he stopped when hearing what Clove had said. His body tensed as he rushed over and grabbed the Career. He grabbed her by the neck and slammed her to the Cornucopia. To see actual fury compared to Cato was deadly from Thresh as he shouted at the girl.
"You killed her?" Thresh demanded an answer.
"No," Clove gasped.
"I heard you," Thresh growled.
Clove shook her head and shouted for her partner's name. The screen changed to see Cato turning around and mouthed 'Clove' as he stormed towards the Cornucopia. The screen switched back to Thresh slamming Clove to the horn, yelling at Clove to say Rue's name. Except it was Cato's name, she continued to call out. Thresh was angry that he continued slamming Clove's head until her skull cracked and her neck snapped. He dropped Clove, walked towards the Cornucopia, and grabbed his bag along with District 2. He turned around to face Katniss, who looked at him scared.
"Just this once, Twelve. For Rue." Thresh said as he turned around and ran before Cato appeared from the other side of the field.
Canon fired, confirming Clove's death as she took sixth place.
Katniss quickly got up and grabbed the bag as she ran. Haymitch and I sighed in relief as the monitor showed Cato kneeling beside Clove, a spear in hand, begging her to stay with him. The relationship between these two careers is unknown unless they knew each other from training.
But what Clove said about the medicine bothered me. I grabbed my tablet to check the sponsorship score to see if all of Clove's funding was withdrawn. Withdrawn from cheating.
"Enobaria," I growled, standing up.
"Where are you goin'?" Haymitch asked, taking a sip from his flask.
"To meet a certain victor," I muttered as I slammed the door hard.
.o0o.
After changing into activewear, I made my way to the elevator. I slammed my fist on the elevator button to the training center gym. There were only four places District 2 Victors would be: the Gamemaker's Headquarters, the Bettings, the second floor of the Training Center, and the training stations. It was a short ride down when the elevator doors opened to find Enobaria wrestling with Atala. I adjusted the brace on my wrist and walked up to them, keeping a neutral face. The two women broke up the cover. I sweat while Enobaria smirks, if not glares at me.
"Hello, Blaine, how's the Girl on Fire?" Enobaria asked casually.
"Oh, didn't you hear? Your tribute is dead." I replied with a smirk crossing my arms. "Turns out there was a cheat in the game. Since your tribute funding was withdrawn last night. Especially from Clove, who knew about Peeta's medicine."
Atala wiped the sweat off her face. "Easy, Blaine, we don't want any problems."
"… There won't be, Atala," I assured the head trainer. "Just came in for a spare."
Atala looked cautious at first before nodding in agreement. Enobaria smirked, showing her sharp gold teeth, and walked towards the mats. Enobaria may be thirty years old and have more experience. Still, I know her motives and study her skills like any student. We had worked on missions together to gather intel. She taught me a few tricks to fight in a dress.
We stood a yard apart while Atala watched from a close distance.
"Now I want a clean fight," Atala warned.
"No promises," Enobaria murmured as she made the first move.
She started towards me, putting her weight into the punch. Using my flexibility, I ducked backward and kicked her in the stomach, right into the diaphragm. Before she could recover, I dropped down, tripping her balance, and got up. Enobaria glared at me from the floor while I held the position, ready for the next move. Use your opponent's strength and balance against them. That was what Atala has said to many tributes.
Enobaria's sharp smirk dropped, replaced with a scowl. She lunged herself on her feet, charged at me the second time, and tackled me. Rolling us around until she was on top and pinned my arms above my head.
"Don't forget who taught you, Twelve," Enobaria growled, then got off me, ready for round three.
I got up and glared at the Career. I felt all the adrenaline in my veins. The adrenaline I loathed and loved the most. Taking a stance ready for the next move. Enobaria ran towards me, and I raised my arms, protecting my chest to block her punch. The force caused me to stagger back, but it didn't hurt as much. I smirked, while she gritted her artificial teeth and let out a snarl. A kick was her next move at my side, though I dodged it, grabbing her leg and flipping her over. Slamming her hard on the mat while placing my foot on her chest.
"Three out of five," I panted.
Enobaria glared as she grabbed my leg and forced me down on the mat. She jumped up and punched me in the stomach. I coughed out a gasp feeling the wind knocked out of me. I stumbled back, holding my stomach, trying to catch myself. Enobaria smirked, bearing her golden mouth in pleasure from my pain. The same mouth that killed a tribute! I watched her for a minute.
Confuse the opponent, I thought.
I did a cross punch aiming at her cheek. Big mistake on her part as she raised her hands to block the strike leaving her vulnerable in the torso. I jumped and mustered all my strength in a sidekick into her right rib cage. Next, spin down to kick her off her feet while she falls to the ground. I crawled on top of her and forced my knees into her shoulder and feet on her wrist, restraining her from any escape. She tried to fight back, but I grabbed her hair and slammed it into the mat. She groans, tilting her head to expose her neck as a sign of submission. I glared at her when our eyes met and gave a mischievous smirk.
"Play the game right, Enobaria," I whispered into her ear. "Because cheaters never prosper."
Enobaria's breath hitched as she nodded rapidly. I stand up, offering a hand which she hesitantly accepts. Once settled on our feet, I waved at Atala and returned to the elevator. When the doors slid shut, I groaned and leaned against the wall, pressing the twelfth button. With a deep breath, I lifted my shirt to examine my rib's condition. There was swelling in the abdominal region along with bruising in the ribs.
"Great," I muttered.
I grabbed the hair tie, yanking it off as waves smoothed out. "At least I taught her a lesson."
A scoffed escape from the comment. This was what I have become in becoming a member of the Profit Circle. A bitch who obeys orders while scared underneath. The arena changes you, and you fear what you will become after waking up in the private infirmary. Many choices to choose from in the decision we make as victors; move on, dwell, or in some cases, put it to use. I hate what I have become between my day job and night job. Escorting and being a singer wasn't the only thing I did for President Snow. While being an escort, he made me do unforgivable things to make sure he retained power.
"Would you kill to save a life?" Gambit, the poker-playing victor, asked before his death.
In this case…I have.
.o0o.
Soaking in the giant bathtub with herbal remedies to ease the bruising, I listen to music. It was relaxing and helped the severe pain in my stomach. Midnight rested on the marble counter, watching while trying to catch bubbles that floated around in the air.
After teaching Enobaria a lesson, I checked on the star-crossed lovers. Katniss got the medicine in time for Peeta to live another day. Though both are unconscious, my mind relaxed from the utter chaos during the Feast. Just how close Clove was about to kill Katniss if Thresh hadn't interfered. Now there was a possible chance of bringing both tributes home. Cato was after Thresh. Jacqueline was hiding in the opposite direction of the arena. And District 12 was safe for now.
After finishing my bath, I wore a robe and entered my room. Midnight jumped on the vanity to admire his glamor. I chuckled, petting his head as I sat in front of the mirror, grabbing a brush and brushing my hair. That was until I noticed a letter attached to the reflected glass. Curious, I grabbed the ivory envelope with a golden seal of a fire insignia. A sigh escaped knowing who it was from.
"At least he's not some obsessive fan," I breathed aloud.
So, opening the letter to read the small ivory page in cursive writing. The first paragraph didn't faze me, for it was an apology for not telling the truth about who Cinna really is. Then the second part caught me off guard. Putting the letter down, I looked at myself to see my reflection. The woman who wasn't me and admired by hundreds if not thousands of fans. And yet one man looked past through the mask and knew how scared I was.
No one knows me better except a few: Finnick, Johanna, and President Snow. I dread the past and built walls around me to protect myself from uncontrolled bidding for President Snow. Fear and Hope were the only opposites in Panem, how the Capitol controls it. I hope for freedom. However, the person who possesses it is the man, I fear. No one knows how terrifying Snow can be till the moment he strikes.
Now the snake gives me free rein of liberty instead of being a prostitute slave.
Yet I'm scared.
These feelings between what I need and what I uncountably understand scares me. So long have I been used in many things other than my last remaining innocence. To disconnect me from romantic affairs in case I was to be sold. Everything about me had been taken; my body and voice were no longer mine. My thoughts are silent. All I can do is protect my heart.
Now the barriers shattered of new feelings towards a particular individual.
Cinna infatuated me dearly.
And I don't know what to do.
Blaine is not used to actual attention from someone who cares for her, and not the persona she has created. She knows how to act around the Capitol people, but she doesn't know how to respond to true affection.
Out of curiosity, what do you think of the story so far?
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