Training, Day 2, Part 1
Eros found Ilithyia ready to go long before the escort had a chance to call. When he arrived with a coffee cup and croissant in hand, she'd already been pacing the lobby for who-knew-how long, glancing at the elevator every so often before checking the time. Her fingers played with the friendship bracelet around her wrist, a trinket that always made him smile. She was totally the type to have a million friends. Not him. He had to keep up appearances for a reason, but maybe he'd consider her a friend. She already considered him one, after all.
"You don't drink coffee, do you." He rubbed his eyes though he wasn't particularly tired.
She stuck her tongue out at him. "I don't need it, Mr. Sleepy Head."
"I don't need it either," he said. "I drink it for the taste." It was true. No trainee could expect to run on coffee and still be chosen to be the designated volunteer, but he'd let her think whatever she wanted to think. It felt familiar, almost. Just like shopping with Eunomia.
"Of course, of course." Ilithyia rolled her eyes. "Drink it for the taste, old man?"
He shrugged. He knew it looked unconvincing. Even better. "I mean, you never know…"
Their escort finally arrived, her key card in hand for the elevator. "Good morning, my stars! You two are early, aren't you? But that's excellent. Excellent choice of bread, Eros. The croissants here are delectable."
He glanced over at Ilithyia, whose eyes shone with sudden excitement. "Isn't 'croissant' your—"
"My dog!" she said. "Croissant is a chihuahua. He's the bestest boy of all and I love him so much!"
"That's perfectly delightful!" The escort said.
"I know, right? He likes to cuddle too! And oh my gosh I miss him so much but—" The elevator doors opened. Ilithyia bounded in without missing a beat. "Finally! Here we go!"
The escort beamed at them. "You two might be the most fabulous tributes I've ever had. Some years, the tributes are so dull."
"Aww, thanks," Eros said, his face turning red. He didn't need her to say it, of course. He already knew he was fabulous. But he liked hearing it all the same. Call it confirmation. He did a little flourish. "Hear that, Ili? We're fabulous."
"You are so extra." She rolled her eyes. "But I like extra."
"Excuse you? I'm fabulously extra."
"Not wrong."
"Of course not."
When the doors opened again, they found the room mostly empty. Only a scrawny black-haired district pair waited in silence, their pale faces looking at the various stations as they whispered to each other. Perfect time to discuss their strategy, before the other six arrived. He wasn't stupid enough to believe that this would last forever. Sooner or later the alliance would break, and when it happened, he had to ensure he and Ilithyia would be on the same page. She was his friend, after all.
"Hey," he said. "Wanna talk plans?"
"Plans!" Her boisterous voice echoed around the room. It seemed to catch her off-guard because she quickly lowered it. "I mean, what plans?"
He winced internally at the lack of tact, but such was Ilithyia. Secrecy wasn't exactly one of her strengths. "I'm just a little concerned about the Tens, that's all. Don't you think they're… worrying?"
"What?" She frowned.
"Maybe I'm being paranoid, but Nevaeh's getting really close with Adair and those two have deadly range—"
"I think you're being paranoid." She patted him on the back. "We agreed to enjoy ourselves, right? I think Nevaeh's a great friend! I love her."
He chuckled. "Yeah… I guess you're right."
She nudged him in the ribs. "Maybe it's just your morning grumpiness. You're going to have a great day and I don't accept any arguments."
"But—"
"Nope!"
He rolled his eyes. "Fine. I solemnly swear that I, Eros Worshire of District Two, will have a great day."
She snorted. "What did I say about you being extra?"
"Look who's—"
"Nope!"
"Fine."
"I'm glad we agree." She laughed, sparkling like the light in her eyes. But then the elevators dinged and her attention moved on to the pair from Ten. "Nevaeh! Sostonio! Oh my gosh. It's Day Two!" Her voice faded slightly as she ran to meet them; she and Nevaeh hugged.
Eros smiled at them from a distance. The Tens were strong. Very strong. Not that any of the Ones and Sevens weren't strong, from Ven's swordsmanship and Adora's throwing stars to Adair's knives and Liat's axes. But neither pair seemed particularly attached to each other. Instead, Ilithyia, not Adora, seemed to continuously keep an eye out for Ven; Ven and Liat had talked at the end of training yesterday, and they seemed to get along better than Liat and Adair.
And then Nevaeh and Sostonio. They'd exchanged knowing glances all day yesterday. To be fair, they weren't any less trustworthy than the remaining four individually, but an uncomfortable rumbling in his gut kept him checking every so often.
Wasn't that what District Ten was known for, anyway? Sticking to their own countrymen above all else? Both crazy capable and crazy close, a worrying duo. Some years, Districts One and Two excluded the tributes from Ten for that very reason, but given how well Ilithyia and Nevaeh seemed to get along, that didn't seem likely this year.
"Howdy! Qué onda?" Sostonio said, leaving the girls where they chatted. Qué… what? Eros gave him a funny look. The other boy laughed. "Whoops, my bad. What's up?"
Eros grinned. "I'm just enjoying my lovely morning. You?"
The Ten boy scratched his neck. "Bien. Though that Capitol sugar's gonna drive me up a wall. Ay! Them sweets here are sweet!"
"Yeah, the Capitol likes to go… overboard, sometimes," he said, though he still relished in the aftertaste of a donut he had earlier that morning. There was no such thing as too much sugar. "Ready for the day, my guy?"
"I'm 'bout as ready as I'll ever be." The boy chuckled, though palpable fear simmered under the surface of his cheery demeanor. "We just gotta make the most of this time, I guess."
"Yeah." He found himself agreeing automatically, though he hadn't even fully processed what the boy meant. It was true though. The Hunger Games threatened his dream family. His happy ending. But Eros wasn't scared of no Games. It'd take more than a little summer adventure to break him.
Sostonio smiled thoughtfully. "Y'know, we ain't all that different."
"I guess not," Eros nodded appreciatively, though he didn't appreciate the sentiment at all. That farmer boy was wrong; the two of them were fundamentally different. One would live and do whatever it took to live. The other would die. Eros knew which one he was.
Perhaps the Tens—or Sostonio, at least—weren't as worrying as he'd thought. One small comment and the guy already confided in him about his own victory insecurity; it wouldn't be hard to tug a bit and make that final jump to friendship.
The trickle of tribute arrivals quickened; the elevator's dings increased in frequency. First the Sevens, who kept an unusual distance between them, and then the Ones. Ilithyia and Nevaeh met both pairs at the elevator, oblivious of the fearful glances all around them. The eight gathered in the center of the room.
"Who's ready to start Day Two?" Ilithyia placed one arm over Eros' shoulder, the other over Nevaeh's. Eros cheered to back her up. She beamed at him, but she suddenly turned to Ven, who stood just outside the circle, face blank. "Ven!"
Ven's eyes widened. "Ili—"
She pushed through the group and grabbed his arm. "No. You're not allowed to sit out. Got it? Got it."
"Making such a scene…" Ven mumbled. Though the boy looked about as comfortable as a polar bear in sweaty District Eleven, he didn't argue. Eros chuckled a little. Not everyone was gifted with such social graces.
Ilithyia turned back to everyone else, satisfied. "Same as yesterday; we'll talk at lunch?"
Adair flipped a thumbs up. Adora nodded sweetly. Eros grinned at her, and she waved back shyly. People did seem to like him—or rather, the front he always wore. All he had to do was keep up what he'd always done back in Two, and he'd have so many "friends" again for him whenever he needed them.
Of course, it would hurt when push came to shove in the Hunger Games. He wasn't a heartless monster. But his survival had to come first, for his future, for his dream.
And when the dust settled, he'd be the only friend left.
As the tributes of District Eight descended to training, Ellis nibbled on a chocolate chip cookie, the instinct to savor overpowering the desire to munch. Odds were, there was already enough sugar in his body to fuel a factory, but by Snow was it good! If only he knew what they added to their foods here; even when he gave in to his cravings back home and added more sugar to the batter than he knew he should, his homemade cookies never came out quite so nice, between the tesserae flour and the hand-refined sugar.
He had nothing to complain about. The homemade cookies, while clearly less fancy than the ones he had now, had brightened many a day, either his own or a friend's. So he'd be grateful that he had them then, and he'd be grateful for the ones he had now.
Their escort looked at him with sympathy. "Better finish it quickly. They won't let you have it during training."
Though he hesitated, he gave in, tossing the last bits of the cookie in his mouth. There wasn't any point to eating food slowly here, was there? In a way, it almost made him sad. Capitolites had so much; they didn't seem to appreciate it the same way anymore.
He turned to Virginia. "Ready for today?"
At first, she smiled, almost in spite of herself, but then the mask of steel returned and she nodded politely. "Yes, thank you."
No matter what he did, it seemed like she was determined to ignore him. Maybe ignore was too strong a word; it made her sound mean when she really wasn't that type of person. Rather, it seemed like she was doing her best to keep her distance. Even in this little elevator, she stood rigid and straight in the other corner.
They want us to be inhuman, she'd said, I need to win. It sent a restless chill across his skin, but the idea was understandable. This was the Hunger Games. Tributes simply didn't win by showing human decency, an indisputable fact backed up by two hundred and thirty-nine years of evidence.
For such an indisputable fact, his heart seemed determined to dispute it. He was glad it did.
He glanced sideways at Virginia's stone-cold face again as they entered the Training Room. It was totally in her right to do her own thing, but he refused to close the door for good, in case she ever changed her mind.
"Good luck today," he said.
She turned back, blinked, and swallowed. "Good luck to you too."
And then she was gone, striding towards Laforza, the girl from Six, her new ally. He watched the girl laze around impatiently with an ever-present smirk, often directed towards the Star Alliance. Come at me, it dared. You bastards. That girl unnerved him. He found it hard to believe Virginia would seek out someone who seemed to be her very antithesis, but she must've seen something he couldn't. Or maybe Virginia was trying to learn inhumanity, in which case he didn't know if he wanted her to succeed or not.
He sighed. She had accepted it, but he refused to. Some things were simply unacceptable.
When the Elevens arrived, he waved hello to Iggy. She waved back, smiling grandly. The two had had a lovely time yesterday; the girl simultaneously acted as naive as someone many years younger while possessing a kindness and grace that he'd expect from someone a little older. But though she'd gladly opened up to him, she hadn't seemed interested in forming an alliance. Then her district partner turned to her, and her hand dropped to her side, the smile quickly fading. It was almost infuriating, the way that other boy quashed her joy and kindness. But Ellis had never been good at getting angry, and it wasn't about to change now. The boy was only looking out for her in his cold, cynical way.
He wasn't sure what he'd expected going into training, but he'd taken it as a given that he'd find someone willing to team up with him, that he wouldn't have to go in alone. The original hope was that he and Virginia could form a team, but she'd shot that one down on the train. And Iggy… either she was listening to her district partner, or she genuinely didn't want allies but still wanted to be nice. Maybe everyone was just out of it, too shocked at the prospects of the Hunger Games to worry about forming alliances.
Maybe he was the only one out of it. That's what his mentor Jacquard had said—"There isn't room for sunshine and rainbows in the Hunger Games." But it was the darkness that made his own role so much more important.
Once they were released to train, Ellis found Kiran taking his first lesson with a knife. Or trying to, at least. The boy's hand wouldn't stop shaking; his wide eyes darted about him like one of those Capitol light shows outside his window at night.
"Hey!" Ellis waved.
The Five boy scowled at him and slammed the knuckles of one hand into the palm of the other. He had to do it a second time before his knuckles cracked. "Needy much?"
He paid it no mind; it wasn't anything worse than their little bits of interaction yesterday. Though the boy scowled at him all the time, Ellis couldn't help but suspect that the boy appreciated not being alone.
"Good morning to you too. Did you sleep well?"
"No." The boy snorted. "I'm running on twelve cups of coffee."
"Woah, let's remember to blink and breathe today." Ellis grinned goodnaturedly. "I'm getting dizzy watching you. Sugar too?"
"Pshaw, sugar's for the weak. I take it black."
Just the thought made Ellis' head buzz. He preferred tea personally, and even then he liked to add a bit of sugar if he could spare it.
Kiran smirked. "Too intense for you?"
"I guess so. I can't drink coffee 'cause smoke will pour from my ears and my brain will have a nuclear meltdown."
"W-Wait, really?"
Ellis chuckled. "No, not really. I'm just too weak to take the bitterness. But twelve cups? I'm impressed."
Kiran stood still, or as still as a guy with twelve cups of coffee in him could stand. He fumbled, face clearly torn without a clue what to do. "Of c-course! I mean, it was nothing; I've had more than that before." Though it was obvious he was trying, the boy failed to contain the smug smile tugging at the corner of his mouth. "I could go for another one…" he muttered. "But I've got training to do right now, so go eff' off somewhere else."
"Nah, I don't mind. I need to practice my knife work anyway." Ellis picked up a knife of his own. He didn't anticipate ever using one except in self-defense. That was the hope, at least. As he stepped up to a dummy, the boy behind him seemed to fall still.
He looked back and found Kiran staring. But the boy instantly spat to his side and snapped back into action, turning back to his dummy with a fierce scowl. Some might find the boy annoying, but Ellis didn't mind him. It was almost entertaining, how he responded to the smallest compliment with shock, as if he'd expected Ellis to put up some kind of a fight instead of… just letting him have the compliment?.
All Ellis could piece together was that Kiran needed a little kindness, and he was more than happy to deliver.
Maybe he should be focused on the dummy instead, the faux human he was learning to dismember. But he couldn't stare face to face with it without a solid rock boring a hole in his gut, so he turned his attention back towards Kiran. It was easier to not deal with the rock, or the killing, or the fact that within two weeks, almost every single kid in the room would be—
Ellis called back. "Holding up okay with the knife?"
"Duh." Kiran's glower didn't let up. "What do you want from me, anyway?"
"Pardon?"
"I'm not falling for any tricks."
This was… new. Many times before, Kiran had hinted at being tough enough to survive on his own and not wanting any help, but this was an accusation. "The caffeine must be getting to you," he said, chuckling. Hopefully, it'd ease the boy's concerns. "I have no tricks."
The boy spat again. "You can't trick me. I see through everything."
"Trust me. I'm not trying to do anything."
"I don't need your pity or your help." The boy's lip twitched; red crept at his cheeks and he swallowed. "You wanna fight? Let's go right now."
Ellis stared at him with an eyebrow raised. Where was all this coming from? "Kiran—"
"Get lost!"
"If you really insist…" Though it pained him, he sighed and put both of his hands up slowly, smiling sadly. He wasn't looking for conflict, and the boy was earnest. Once again, he'd respect their choices and move on.
But before he had the chance to leave, Kiran mumbled a curse, turned tail first, and hurried away with his face hidden. Ellis wanted to call after him. It would've been useless, he supposed. Something was deeply wrong and he couldn't do a thing about it.
In the corner of his vision, he caught a glimpse of Kiran looking back, but he couldn't bring himself to meet it. So he ignored it, returned to the weapon rack, and gingerly rested the knife back in its place. He had no purpose at this station anymore.
"Where do you want to go?" Ven asked Liat. She'd volunteered to pair with him today. He wasn't quite sure why, especially after she wandered off to do her own thing yesterday afternoon—which was totally valid, just confusing. At any rate, it had seemed like the weapons training unnerved her yesterday, and he was completely amenable to switching things up if she wanted to.
She spun around and took inventory of the room. "How about… Hammock-making?"
He wasn't sure if it could be considered a valuable skill, but he'd asked for her opinion and that was that. "Sure."
"I know it's not the most useful thing, but I think it could be fun, right?" she said, rather loudly. Even after declaring a destination, her eyes still darted about in uncertainty.
He shrugged. Something was obviously up, but he trusted her to reveal all in time. Liat wasn't like Adora, who kept her secrets guarded behind photogenic smiles and waves. "Whatever floats your boat."
The hammock-making station sat at the far end of the room, with a sample hammock hanging between two poles and piles of materials around. Ven didn't remember ever seeing a tribute stop by, mostly passing by to the much more popular fire, food, and shelter stations. A lone trainer perched atop a stool and flipped through a book. Though he approached when the two of them approached, Liat shook her head politely. So they weren't here for the hammocks.
She unwound the end of a rope reel and extended it to him. "How do you think this works?"
"I got nothing." He slipped it into a knot, but his fingers struggled to work around the rope to untie it. "So. Hammocks, huh?"
"Of course. I love a good hammock." She glanced over her shoulder. "But you know we're not here to talk about hammocks."
"No way."
"I know, right? What a shocker." Though she chuckled, hints of anxiety seeped into her voice. "I just wanted to ask… how do you feel about the rest of the alliance?"
"Is this what was bothering you yesterday?"
"Maybe. But what do you think?"
He mentally ran through each of their faces. Ilithyia and Nevaeh. Sostonio. Adair, Eros, and Adora. Together, they formed a boisterous group that made him wish he had a turtle shell to retreat into. But individually… Ilithyia's waves and smiles singled him out, anxiety-inducing yet oddly genuine. The way Adora's show seemed to pause for intermission around him, as if his presence gave her permission to take a break, oddly reassuring to him. Sostonio's hearty slap on the back, reminiscent of his football team yet somehow already more accepting than the District One elite had ever been.
"It's… a solid alliance, in my opinion," he said. "They're… different levels of trustworthy, but it's solid."
Between checking over her shoulder and bowing her head to "work" on the rope, she stared at him with gravity. "How trustworthy am I?"
"Decently, I'd say." He bit his lip. Either the girl had serious concerns she wanted to express to him, or she was trying so hard to play him. His gut told him it wasn't the latter. She didn't smell fake enough for that.
She continued to watch him as she spoke, her voice a little shaky. "Look…. I'm going out on a limb here. I barely know you, but I think I can trust you."
He nodded. "So what's up?"
"Well…" She took a deep breath. "I think I want to leave the alliance."
Now that… that wasn't what he'd expected. He wasn't going to fight her if she wanted to leave, but what made her so unsure? Should he be worried too?
"What's wrong?" he asked.
She glanced back at the others. Adair and Ilithyia, by the ropes course. Sostonio and Eros, throwing lassos, the Ten boy clearly more proficient. Adora and Nevaeh, running through some edible plants. "Don't you ever feel like they're so… fake?"
"Mostly everyone's fake." He had to hold in a guffaw. "But I see what you mean." Adora was that way, though he could understand why she chose it. Being a slimy politician's daughter was no easy business.
"You're not wrong." Her hands worked the rope into a nervous coil. "But Adair's more than just fake; he's disgustingly fake. Like… every time I'm around him I feel like he's trying to get something out of me."
Ven rubbed his beard. "That's concerning."
"Then I come here and watch him sweet talk Nevaeh and Ilithyia? It's a ticking time bomb. Same for Eros, but I don't have to deal with him outside Training." She looked around the room again. None of the others paid them any attention. "Please tell me I'm not going crazy."
"I… I can see that. You're not going crazy." He'd seen Eros' sickening sweetness and it always left a bad taste in his mouth, though he hadn't quite arrived at the time bomb conclusion himself.
"Would you leave?"
He stared down at the rope in his hands. Between Eros' outright deception and Adora's masks, he could see potential trouble down the road. It was the source of most District One scandals, after all. But Ilithyia was genuine, he was sure of it, from her unbridled joy to the way she insisted on including him in everything. Perhaps a little oblivious, but genuine. Sostonio too; the guy was just a simple country boy that volunteered to save someone important to him. Ven refused to believe that the guy could be anything other than a good person.
"I don't think so," he finally said, meeting Liat's eyes only to find disappointment. "I think that leaving the alliance is absolutely a valid decision to make, but I'm staying." He continued when she looked at him questioningly. "There's gotta be at least some good in everybody, y'know? I think there might just be enough in the group to keep things from blowing up."
"I admire the positivity… but I'm not that hopeful." She sighed. The rope pulled even harder against her palms. "Oh well. It was worth a try. You won't… you know…"
"Don't worry; I won't tell them." He smiled at her. "I won't judge either, no matter what you do."
Liat released a deep breath. Her shoulders eased and the relaxed smile returned. "Thanks, Ven. It means a lot."
"Anytime."
"Do you want to pick a useful station now? I'm sorry I wasted so much of your time…"
"Hey, hammocks might be useful in the Arena." "We might need some help, though."
While she left to find the trainer, Ven glanced back at his other allies again. With all this watching, he almost felt like he was intruding on their privacy. Did he actually see that much good in the alliance? Or was it nothing but wishful thinking?
He saw Ilithyia grab Adair's arm when the latter almost slipped on the ropes. He saw Sostonio cheer as Eros finally got the lasso to tighten properly around the training dummy. He saw Nevaeh pull Adora into a hug as the two completed a test of edible plants.
Maybe, even in the Hunger Games, there'd be just enough good.
Kiran marched with resolve across the Training Room floor. No fear, no intimidation, definitely no caffeine-induced tremors even while—no, especially while them stupid trained peoples flexed their weapon skills to the rest of the tributes. They were probably all insecure anyway. Why else would they need to flex? No one could say they ever found him flexing his skill with a weapon, could they?
Fine, maybe that was because he didn't have any weapon skills, even after his bit of training with a knife, but that was beside the point. Maybe he'd know more if he hadn't left the knives station. Stupid Kiran; why did he leave in the first place? He'd told Ellis to get lost, yet now he was… lost?
No. Not lost. That would be embarrassing in front of the tributes around him, Gamemakers above him, and cameras on him.
He still had no idea why he told Ellis to get lost, anyhow. One moment, everything was fine and it felt like he'd finally met someone that actually… found him cool? But the very next, all he knew was that he had to get away from Ellis, his kind words and smiles and all that mushy-mushy stuff that was too soft for him.
Lost in thought, he nearly walked right into a display on "how to find water," the one opposite the room from the weapon wall. Its bright screens taunted him. He'd… already crossed the entire training room? That'd been a lot faster than he'd expected. It must be the coffee's fault. What did they put in that stuff? It sent his brain on a roller coaster of characters and plots and intrigue! Fantasy lands of alternate dimensions with lightning-breathing dragons and iron-clad knights! Undercover superheroes in the shady streets of District Five, fighting crime and kicking butt the way he wished he could!
His hands jittered; his legs wanted to run! He didn't, of course. That would make him look stupid. But now he was at this station he never intended to come too, and it'd look so weird to march all the way here and then… leave.
So he'd stay and pretend to be interested for a reasonable amount of time before he left. As far as he could remember from the training clips he'd seen on television, there wasn't usually a specialized station on finding water, but maybe that was because it was so inexorably boring that there was no point in showing it to the audience, especially when they could be showing the strongest and fittest tributes tear their way through training dummies.
He crossed his arms. Nope. Not afraid. Not around the other tributes.
Though he kept his eyes on the display, he noticed the tall writer girl from District Four nearby again, her also-tall and not-scary district partner once again nearby. Pshaw, writing! No one in Panem would ever catch him doing something like writing. No one cool or respected got there by writing, no matter how much time he spent daydreaming about Hahn and the Positron alter-ego.
"Hey," the girl said. "You're District Five, right?"
He couldn't tell if he felt annoyed or pleased. He decided that he felt annoyed because that's what the cool kids did to him. "Duh."
"That's cool. I'm Azolla."
"So?"
She laughed. Everyone always laughed if they weren't ignoring him, but hers was different. Azolla's laugh rippled like a gentle wave from above, friendly and inviting. Deja vu, and not in a good way. "So I'd like to know your name too."
"Kiran." He looked away, but then he looked right back at her, dead in the eyes. Only wimps looked away. Except she was taller than him too and he didn't feel as fierce as he wished. "That's my name."
"Nice to meet you, Kiran. Studying up on finding water?"
He pulled back his shoulders and lifted his chin, though he might have lifted it just a bit too much."I don't need to study. I'm already done."
"Oh?" She looked at him funny, but if it bothered her, she didn't show it. "Then let's review together."
"Get out of my face," he huffed. He hoped he sounded bored.
"…Oh. Okay. We don't have to if you don't want to." Her voice was somehow nearly as perky as it was before, and she still smiled down at him. Or rather, she smiled, and he had to look up to see it. Though he felt himself straightening up, it didn't help the height difference. "I'm just super curious, so I hope you don't mind me asking, but… are you into creative projects?"
"Of course not!" Lightning-breathing dragons. Iron-clad knights. Undercover superheroes. They called to him. But he shoved them in a back corner of his brain to hide until it was safe for them to come out and he wouldn't die of embarrassment.
"That's fine," she said. "But creative projects are so valid too, and I always love to hear what others are working on. You know, as a writer myself."
"I, uh—" he fumbled. How much did she know? How could she have known? "No one cares about your waste of time."
"Is it really a waste of time if it makes you happy?"
Making himself happy didn't make him cool. Making himself happy didn't force others to take him seriously. Making himself happy only caused him more insignificant until he might as well be a quark, unseen, uncared for. Yet her words made his heart happy. And that was pathetic.
He grunted, willing himself to stay under control. "This is all so stupid."
"Well, I—"
"You don't know what you're talking about. I'm leaving, bit—"
He turned away from her, only to come face to face with her district partner. The guy was just as tall, maybe taller, but he wasn't smiling.
"Look, Five." The guy said, nearly knocking him over with a small shove in the chest. Azolla started to protest, but the guy seemed to not hear her at all. "Wey, you pick a fight with us and you'll regret it."
Kiran snorted. "You think."
"Do you want me to beat you up? I've got plenty of experience."
He gulped. Four Male had almost a full foot on him. If the little shove did that much, he feared to consider what he'd be if the guy took it out on him. He took uneven steps backward, unwilling to break eye contact though he had to get away from the Fours.
"I d-didn't want to fight anyway, you mother—"
"Watch it. You don't leave now; I'll end you."
The Four guy's fists were more than convincing enough. Kiran whirled around and stormed away, biting his lip to hold back tears of humiliation. The two of them argued behind him in hushed whispers, but their voices only made him mad.
Ellis at one end of the room. Fours at the other. He plopped down at a table in between and rested his head in his hands, digging his fingers into his messy curls and then into his scalp as the caffeine in his blood demanded him to do something. This was just like school, except here, he had no quiet corner to hide. Everywhere he went someone waited to humiliate him and remind him exactly why Kiran Malhotra was pathetic.
The table trembled as someone sat down at the other end. A dark-skinned girl, the youngest tribute in the room, had just placed an armful of plant materials on the table. Apparently, this was the natural remedies station.
"Stay away from me," he snapped.
The girl cringed and tried to scoop up her stuff. "I'm sorry! I didn't mean anything!"
Kiran stared blankly. What was this? For once, someone responded to him with fear. Slowly, a smirk spread across his face as his fingers tingled with the sensation of power. So this was what it felt like to be king of the school. This was what it felt like to be a star athlete, with the force to intimidate anyone he wanted to. This was what it felt like to be taken seriously.
Oh, Kiran loved it.
In her bumbling mess of a retreat, as she passed him, a bowl slipped from her grasp. Though it landed intact, brown powder flew all over him.
"What—" He coughed. "What the f—"
"I'm sorry!"
"You wanna fight?" He took a step forward, relishing in the way the girl scrambled away from him. "I'd wreck your pathetic a—"
A shadow fell over him. Firm hands closed around his wrists, yanking him to a standstill. A muscular man in trainer uniform stared down at him without a glimpse of amusement.
"There is to be no fighting between tributes before the Arena. There will be consequences on your next offense. Understood?"
Kiran gulped. All the times he'd made fun of the Capitol accent, he never expected that it could sound this intimidating. His wrists felt like twigs in the man's grip. Heck, all of him might as well be a stick, fully at the mercy of a wrecking ball.
"Un-Understood. Sir."
"Good." The man released him. "Don't let it happen again."
As the trainer left, Kiran suddenly became aware of the eyes on him. The District Four boy crossed his arms in cruel amusement. The District Six girl burst out in sharp laughter. Even the Eleven girl walked away with all her items in hand, her back towards him. And just as quickly as they came, they all looked away, moving on with their days. He wasn't worth their time.
Who was he kidding? Not a single person in the room would consider him a real threat, not while the Capitol's power loomed overhead. His best efforts still landed him right where he was back in school—a pathetic wanna-be that wasn't worth anyone's attention or time. Though he tried to puff out his chest and square his shoulders as he'd always done back home, to pick himself back up and try again, his bones felt like they lacked the strength. Or maybe he just lacked the resolve.
Oh. Azolla watched him too. But hers wasn't derision; it was disappointment. Somehow that was worse.
And as he remembered Eleven girl's look of genuine terror, Kiran's gut rumbled uneasily. Someone had taken him seriously, for once, but it didn't feel so good anymore. His fingers didn't tingle with satisfaction; they fell limp in shame. He finally had all their attention on him, yet their contemptuous glares cut nearly as deep as being fully ignored.
Everything just felt… bad.
A/N This chapter's so late. Okay, maybe not so late since it's only been 9 days, but that's so late for me. On a different note, we have 5 regular Pre-Games chapters left, so we're chugging along well! I get the feel that things are building rather slowly this time, which concerns me as it means I'm doing an inadequate job setting up tension, so please—I'd love constructive criticism. I hunger for it; I won't be offended.
Predictions? I'd love to hear y'all's thoughts.
