Hi, everyone! Welcome back to the 76th annual Hunger Games! In this chapter, I'm going to introduce sponsors properly. Actually, one of them appeared in the previous chapter, but it's in the current one that I'll explain how the sponsor-stuff works. Basically, there gonna be dialogues between sponsors and mentors that focus mainly on strategy and supplies for the arena, but I'll explore the relation between mentors and their protégés as well. As you certainly know, sponsors are Capitol citizens who support districts and/or single tributes in the Games. Since you expressed preferences when submitting them, I'm going to focus on them… mainly on them, at least. The POVs are mentors', and submitters can assign points to their protégés (e.g.: if there's a POV of District 1 mentor, submitters can assign points to the tributes coming from that district). I've already uploaded some sponsor chapters for my story Love Is the Deadliest Weapon *; if you want, you can have a look at them.

Enjoy your reading :)

Second day in the Capitol

Charmant Lefauve (23)- Mentor of District 10

I look at my reflection in the mirror, satisfied. Pleasing the eye is important, they say… especially if you're in a TV show like the Hunger Games. Well, my family name may be enough to draw everybody's attention, but I cannot count exclusively on that… I don't want to do it… too easy. You need to look at the substance sooner or later, even in a city that lives on appearances and reputation like the Capitol. Moreover, I'm not selling myself out but someone else, I'm representing people I barely know. Well, thanks to my connections I've gathered all the information I need to know about them, and yet… you feel different, when you represent someone else: detached and relieved at the same time, maybe because you cannot endanger your own name in this way. I must admit that I like this sensation, this imperfect detachment, I could get used to it. Anyway, I get one last look at my auburn hair- they're perfect as usual, the perfect middle ground between straight and curly that hairdressers can hardly obtain with their tools, and I'm proud of that- and then I leave my room.

I enter the dining room, which is supposed to look like a dusty old wild west saloon. Does this dust serve as a decoration or do the avoxes take the old-saloon-theme as an excuse to stay idle? Probably both… tsk! Ungrateful servants! Anyway, Malachi Day and Crimson Wilding are having breakfast together, but Rowley is not with them. She must be still in her room.

The escort stands up as soon as he sees me. "Oh, Charmant!" he says, while getting closer. "Just in time for breakfast. You know, mentors have an important task to fulfill, they need energy. Sponsors can be tough nuts to crack! By the way, don't you think your outfit is waaay too simple? You have to leave a mark!"

I'd like to tell him that I could leave a mark on his face, but I help myself. What's the point of getting mad at an idiot? Leaving a mark doesn't equal dressing up like a clown just for show. The escort is wearing a leotard that is even more sparkling than that he wore at the Reaping. He looks like a disco ball!

"I know my stuff, don't worry," I reply with a half-smile.

"I hope so, Charmant. I can't help worrying, because we're a team, and the performance of every single member affects the whooole group."

I look at him with a straight face. "Then, I strongly advise you not to neglect your duties. It's a tough environment; everyone should know their place, if they want to survive. The Hunger Games are fought here in the Capitol as well, if you know what I mean…"

He smiles in response, but it's a fake smile. He's clearly ill at ease now. "Well, I…"

But I immediately interrupt him: "You'll do your job and I'll do mine. Is that understood?"

That's when I notice it: I look over the escort's shoulders and see that the male tribute is staring at me. As soon as our eyes meet, he looks down at his breakfast, embarrassed. Malachi Day… just a boy with a miserable existence: he's a shepherd, lives with his older siblings, they're all single… nothing I can really work on. Honestly, he would do me a favour, if he died in the bloodbath; no one could blame me for not supporting him.

"By the way, where's Rowley? Our tributes should get ready for training. Arriving late would be impolite, and a good escort should be able to teach manners, don't you think?" I tell Crimson.

"I think she's in her room, Charmant," he says.

That's where I head to, trying to overlook the fact that the escort mispronounces my name every single time he says it. The "t" is silent, you ignorant! Anyway, I find Rowley in her room. She has already worn her training outfit, but she's still sitting on her bed while tying her shoes, so she hasn't seen me enter the room. Rowley Star… that's material I can work on.

"I'm glad you're already dressed, it will save us time," I say.

She immediately startles and gets in a sitting position, her arms folded in her lap. I get closer but she doesn't move, she keeps staring at me from below. I can feel that she's tense, though. She looks like a child who's about to be scolded by her parents… how cute.

"I'm hungry, I'll go have breakfast. Malachi and I should get ready for training, so we haven't got much time," she says at some point, but without moving a muscle.

I can hardly suppress a smirk: she's clearly trying to avoid me… out of fear maybe?

"You know, Rowley, I can be your friend or your worst enemy. If I were you, I'd choose the former," I reply with a straight face.

She doesn't say anything in response, she just looks at me, she doesn't even move from her bed.

"There's a saying: clear agreements and long friendship," I go on. "I mean, I'm your mentor, your guide, but I can't do my job until you're so… well, closed-off. You want us to get along, don't you?"

She considers my words for a moment before nodding in response.

"Good girl," I say with a slight smile.

I caress her cheek, but she immediately backs off.

"That was impolite," I point out.

Rowley stands up. "I'm not your doll!"

She's clearly angry, but I'm definitely not afraid of a cowgirl from the districts. I think she'd like to slap me in the face, but luckily for her she manages to keep her hands to herself.

"No, you're not a doll. You're alive, you've got hopes and desires… and you've got a past. I may help you to shed a light on it."

Rowley frowns, confused. "What do you mean? You don't know anything about me!"

I smirk. "Poor, naïve girl. I know more about you than you think. After all, it's part of my job: mentors need to know their tributes. Do you really think I'd talk to you in private, if I didn't find you interesting?"

"W-what do you want from me?" she asks, her voice slightly quivering.

"As you know, I'm your mentor, which means that I'm going to – let's say- give you advice, and you'll follow it; you'll do what I tell you to do, and I…"

"And you what? You'll help me in the arena!? That's your job!" she shouts, interrupting me.

I glare at her, but she looks unfazed, she doesn't even apologize.

"Girl, you have to behave properly, if you want to be friends with me," I say, pointing my finger at her.

"Maybe I don't want us to be friends. I could listen to what you say but ignore it," she retorts.

"Like you did with your twin sister Edith?"

Rowley freezes, her brown eyes widened. She opens her small, delicate mouth to say something, but nothing escapes her throat. She starts shaking like a leaf, as if she was about to cry.

I raise my eyebrows. "See? I know more than you think."

"You… Edith… s-she's dead, isn't that enough!? Do you really want to torment me with that!?" she replies, outraged.

I put my hands on her shoulders, and, luckily, she doesn't back off this time. "No, Rowley, I don't want to torment you, it would be counterproductive. I just wanted to remind you what happens when you ignore important people: bad things… to you above all, since it's you who faces the consequences, right?"

"Mean of you," she comments in a lower tone, but her voice is still shaking in agitation.

"I know."

"But what does my sister have to do with all this?"

She sounds much calmer now.

"Nothing really. I've just showed you that I know many things, and knowledge is power."

"I don't see your point."

"I think you do, instead," I rebut. "Since I know many things, I could tell you what you yearn to know…"

"And what do I yearn?"

I smirk. "Westin Star."

Rowley freezes again, her shoulders tense under my hands. She doesn't say anything in response, she just stares at me, her lips slightly parted.

"I know where your father is," I add.

Still no response. She starts shaking again, though.

"Can you see how easy holding you in check is, Rowley?" I ask her.

"What do you want from me?" she replies with another question.

Now, she sounds sad, as if she was about to cry… again. I sigh and take my hands off her shoulders. I start pacing back and forth.

"You're like clay: the Hunger Games are a TV show, so they'll shape you to fit it. Many mentors don't care about their tributes' feelings, they think only of creating a character for the show and winning sponsors. Actually, I could easily do it as well, but that's not what I want; as I said, I want to make a deal with you. Of course, we're going to work on your image for the show, but I want you to play an active role in it, I don't want a silly puppet to manoeuvre," I explain.

"I still don't see what kind of deal this is," she replies.

I stop right in front of her. "If you want to survive all this- the Games, the aftermath, Capitol City itself- you'll need a friend like me. But everything comes with a price, even friendship. They'll change you, Rowley, whether you like it or not. They'll investigate your past, 'cause the audience is curious and wants a good story. For them, you can be the coward who let her sister die or a poor victim of fate… it doesn't make any difference, as far as the audience is entertained. If you want to have a say in all this, you'll have to trust me completely and unconditionally. Let me lead you, Rowley, and everything will be fine."

"I see."

I get closer to her. "So, do we have a deal?"

In response, she watches me right in the eye. "Yes, sir, we do," she answers after taking a deep breath.

I smile. "You're a very good girl."

…...

Lawrence Mnemos (50)- Mentor of District 3

What does a history lecturer have to do with the Hunger Games? It may sound like a trivial riddle, yet I've been seriously reflecting on this inquiry… and I'm doing it now as well, while a limousine is taking me to the city hall, the place where I'm meeting sponsors. I've heard that this is a temporary location; in one year or two, mentors will go to a hotel** that they're now building ex novo for such meetings. No way I can't know that; after all, the escort of District 3 and the hotel's owner are siblings, and their involvement in the Games is a source of pride. Anyway, let's go back to the initial question: what does a history lecturer have to do with the Hunger Games? Well, considering the waning interest of students in humanistic subjects in favour of science or art and the resulting lack of chairs, being a mentor is a valuable source of income even if temporary, I guess. I still can't believe that my application was accepted. Maybe I just got lucky; not many people were interested in District 3, that's why they chose me.

If there's something that I've learnt as a lecturer, that's the ability to read people. You can infer your students' nature and temper by observing their behaviour, what they say and how they say it, how they react to a given stimulus. Body language is relevant too. Once you get all this, you should be able to infer with which students you're going to have a good relationship… always with the due detachment, of course. They shall never forget that you're not their friend but their educator. That's what I'm trying to do with my tributes: I'm trying to understand who they are. Dorah Asyn is a nice girl. She has managed to stay positive despite all this… I mean, her life is at stake, yet… maybe she hasn't fully realized what's going on. Yes, she has her problems; she has told me about her hyperactivity, which is associated with attention deficit in her case. Not good. How can she survive in the arena, if she's not able to stay still when necessary or if she cannot keep the focus on anything? I shake my head. There must be some kind of drug that Dorah can take to keep her problems at bay. That's what I need to discuss with sponsors, and it won't be easy; nobody wants a problematic tribute, so I need to make Dorah appear as victor material in one way or another. As for Quantum Sparks… well, I haven't been able to frame him yet. Yes, he seems kind and shy, but I've got the impression that he's hiding something. I know that he has a criminal background, but he has told me that he's just a common thief, not a killer. Apparently, he's not proud of himself either.

The limousine stops. The driver steps out of it and comes to open my door. I take a deep breath and get out. The city hall of the Capitol was clearly designed to look like an ancient, circular-shaped temple with a white staircase and a colonnade on the front. Like the Pantheon in the ancient city of Rome… well, the historical events occurred before the foundation of Panem are not supposed to be taught, yet many would marvel at how much the contemporary world owes to the past. Anyway, the meetings with sponsors take place in a circular room. There's only one oval window in the middle of the ceiling, from which golden rays start. The sun imagery is emphasized also by the light yellow hue of the room. On the right, you can see a refreshment area- a long table with plates of finger food and carafes of colourful drinks. There are also some avoxes ready to serve guests. The rest of the room is occupied by round tables and chairs. Before meeting sponsors, every mentor is given a pin with the district's number.

Despite my bleak predictions, looks like there's a sponsor who's interested in District 3: a forty-year-old man with long bottle green hair, dyed orange skin with tattoos, and red eyes. He's wearing a sparkling tuxedo, which is half green and half orange, thus matching the colour of his hair and skin. His name is Dominico Ferguson Storm.

We sit at a table almost in the center of the room. Apparently, Mr. Storm doesn't mind being at the center, whereas I'd like to have more privacy, especially when discussing important issues such as sponsorship. I don't complain, though.

"So, Lawrence… I may call you by name, right? Of course I may! We're a team now! So… how are your tributes?" he asks with a wide smile.

I'm taken aback by his outgoing attitude. Actually, I'm used to far more detached relationships, but I smile and answer his question, nonetheless: "Well, my tributes are fine, thanks. Amazed to be in the Capitol and ready to train for the Games."

"Even Quantum? From what I know, he's not exactly the prototype of a model youth…"

"From what I know, he has a difficult past: absent parents, poverty… who are we to judge him? Sometimes, people resort to crime just because they're hopeless, but we can help him."

"Well, he has survived so far, he must have gained some useful skills on the streets. We could focus on these skills. Guess you mean this by "help him", right?"

I bite my lip: no, that's not what I meant; I thought of Quantum's possible redemption. But I should think as a mentor not as an educator! After all, my duty is to prepare tributes for the arena, where they're going to witness and commit crimes that are far worse than anything they might experience in everyday life. Given that, no possibility of redemption can be considered.

"Yes," I lie to him with a half smile.

"And what about Dorah?" asks Dominico.

"She's a nice girl and has a very positive attitude… definitely the kind of person who can make friends easily. Her family is attached to the Capitol, also because…" I start saying but then I stop, lowering my gaze.

"Because…" he echoes me.

I look again at the sponsor. "Mr. Storm, I'm not going to mince words. Probably, you already know everything, so it wouldn't make sense. Dorah has been diagnosed with hyperactivity and attention deficit by the Capitol, and she's really grateful for the help she's been given. She may need drugs in the arena, and such drugs must be expensive. If you're not willing to pay for them, I can understand it, and you'd have to understand me, if I decided to look for other sponsors. I'm not going to give up on her!"

Dominico smiles in response. "Looks like you have a preference for her…"

"I…"

He stops me with a gesture of his hand. "No need to explain. Preferences are normal, after all. As for what you said, thank you for your sincerity, I really appreciate it. But you don't have to worry: if Dorah needs drugs, I can provide her with them. She's loyal and grateful to the Capitol for helping her… guess that's precisely the kind of victor we all wish to have."

…...

Mariposa Hadley (35)- Mentor of District 11

I'm thrilled to be here among mentors and sponsors. I've spotted some very known faces in this crowd, so you can imagine my happiness when I'm approached by none other than Carroll Park himself- a real celebrity in the Capitol. He's the host of a popular romance program called "DNA Match", where people are matched depending on their genetics. I love his program! If only I didn't have a husband and kids, I'd consider participating in it. Anyway, Carroll Park is famous for his investments in District 11 as well. After all, Capitolites have always been mistrustful of the districts, even before the second rebellion, so his decision makes him stand out. I'm not surprised that he's interested in my tributes, I'm rather pleased. He looks even more handsome in person, with his well-proportioned figure, dark hair and shocking green eyes. He's wearing a blue T-shirt with a black poppy drawn on it and elegant, white trousers. A red foulard is knotted around his neck.

"You must be the mentor of Eleven, the person I was looking for…" he says, sparkling a fascinating, white-toothed smile.

"You found me. My name is Mariposa Hadley. I'm honoured to meet you, Mr. Park," I reply, holding out my hand.

In response, he takes my hand and gently kisses it. A real gentleman!

"It's me who's honoured, and, please, call me Carroll. Shall we take a seat?"

"Sure."

"Ladies first…"

I venture into the room full of mentors and sponsors. I sit at the first free table I find. Carroll Park is a super sponsor, someone to hang on. I must appear determined and self-confident. I cannot waste time. Let's go down to business!

"I'm glad you're interested in Livia and Lavender. We've already discussed strategy together, and they've decided to be allies, which should make them stronger and your job easier. I'm aware of the possible drawbacks of teamwork in the arena, but I believe that's our best bet, don't you think?" I begin.

He smiles in response. "Far be it from me to disagree with a beautiful woman who knows her stuff."

Oh, he's so polite! I know Carroll has publicly declared that he doesn't want to have any relationship, and yet… what a pity! If only I… ah! Come on, Mariposa! Remember that you're married! Be professional!

"Oh, Carroll, you're too kind, you'll make me blush. But we should definitely focus on our tributes and not on ourselves."

"Forgive me, my dear Mariposa, I didn't mean to upset you. This flirty attitude is part of my character… force of habit maybe, or a way to break the ice. But if you prefer a more formal approach, I'll stick with it," he replies with a shrug.

Now, I feel guilty. Have I screwed it up? But I can't afford losing a sponsor like Carroll Park!

"Don't take it personally. It's just… I've got attached to my tributes, as if they were my children, and a good parent wants only the best for their children. Parenthood implies selflessness, in my opinion. Of course, I'd like to have a relaxed relationship with you, but we can't forget why we are here. I want to help my tributes as far as I can. Eleven is not an easy district, definitely not one of the most popular, but this makes our job just challenging, not impossible," I say, trying to justify myself.

Well, I've made a nice and sincere speech, right? If my colleagues at the gym could hear me…

"Yeah, Eleven is not an easy district…" he echoes me, staring at the table in front of him, as if a distant recollection had suddenly been brought back by the current conversation.

"I hope you're still willing to support District 11…" I add.

Carroll looks at me again and smiles. "Of course, I am. And I'm glad District 11 has a mentor like you."

So, this was the first sponsor chapter of this story. There's a poll on my profile where you can express your appreciation for this kind of chapter on a scale 1 to 5, but it refers also to reaction chapters- i.e., chapters in which characters that are not in the arena react to the death of a given tribute. Anyway, the sponsors introduced so far are Dominico Ferguson Storm (submitted by santiagoponcini20) and Carroll Park (submitted by Luthien'sLight). The remaining sponsors are going to be introduced after the private sessions.

I'd like to know your opinion on mentors, so you could answer the following questions in your reviews, if you want:

Lawrence: what do you think of him?

Charmant: if you were Rowley, would you make a deal with Charmant?

Mariposa: what do you think of her motherly attitude?

Submitters can assign points to: Quantum (D3M), Dorah (D3F), Malachi (D10M), Rowley (D10F), Lavender (D11M), Livia (D11F)

Thank you a lot for reading and reviewing :)

*See chapter 19 (Sponsors: Experts and Newbies), 24 (Sponsors: He Who Seeks Finds), and 33 (Sponsors: Great Expectations)

**The Rainbow End Hotel. For a description of it, see Love Is the Deadliest Weapon chapter 19 (Sponsors: Experts and Newbies)