The events in the dining car have left Effie in a rather sour mood, and she glowers off to the side while we sit in our new car. It's a lush living room like car with plush sofas and a TV screen mounted on one far wall.
We're watching the Capitol Recap - a channel whose sole purpose it seems is to broadcast the events of the day. The recaps are for the people in Panem who may have missed the first airing of the program, or the next one after that, or even the one after that. They run all the way into the night and early into the morning before a new cycle of Hunger Games excitement begins. It makes me wonder if the newscasters ever sleep and I get lost momentarily, devoted to trying to see if I can find any bags under their eyes.
I survey the faces of all the tributes in the various districts, trying to size them up. One and Two - the top tier of career districts - look well fed like usual. They've probably been training for as long as they've been eligible, as those in the career districts tend to do. That's why there's so many victors from one and two, and not so many from the rest of us. District Four looks rather mixed, and I wonder what the odds makers will think of it this year. The boy looks rather small - and ironically very fish-like in his features. The girl however looks more like what we've come to expect from a career. She's stockier and far taller than he is. I find myself wishing desperately for a pen and paper as the newscaster says something about a more in-depth recap of the tributes to come later, and begins to skim through the faces of the tributes from the other districts. They also mention a 'special surprise' for those who missed the reaping as it was televised live. He must mean the new addendum, I think.
The citizens of the Capitol probably can't wait to learn more about this new addition, and I'm right there with them. I've been left rather strangely in the dark about the whole thing. A creature of suspicion begins to worm its way into the back of my mind, whispering doubts as it does so. Too many things aren't adding up, and I begin to question the motives behind the 'special circumstances' that brought there to be two extra tributes to join the arena. There's too many questions left unanswered, things that should be simple like what our stylists will be doing, or who our mentor will be. It can't be Haymitch, can it? I haven't even been told who my 'district partner' is. I can't shake the feeling that there's something deeper going on beneath the surface.
Normally, it's the job of the mentor to sit with the tributes from their district and help them pick apart their opponents. To read their faces, analyze their build, speculate on what their strengths and weaknesses would be. But Haymitch is nowhere to be seen, so it would seem that we - or rather Katniss and Peeta - are on our own in this endeavor.
I've heard he used to be different, in the beginning. After he won he wasn't as deep into the clutches of alcohol as he is now, and he really devoted himself to his tributes. But the years of mentoring children just to have it never be enough must have taken its toll on him, as he's completely removed himself from the equation.
When I turn my attention back to the screen, I notice that I've missed most of the rest of the reapings, as the TV is now showing some not-so-stunning views of District 12. Somehow - despite all the hours of cleaning done by the capitol crews to prepare for the reaping - the district looks far more muddy and dull than how it really is. We get to see our reapings, and I'm surprised at how small we look.
"Your Mentor has a lot to learn about proper behavior," Effie comments when we get to the part where Haymitch's drunken antics are on full display. "Especially when it comes to his public television appearances."
"He was drunk." Peeta remarks rather bitterly.
"He's always drunk." Katniss says, laughing lightly.
It's one of the first hints of real emotion she's let slip all day - and it seems to catch both Peeta and Effie off their guard slightly. Peeta lets out a startled, choked sounding laugh, and it cuts the tension that until now I hadn't realized had been filling the room. Effie however is not so amused.
"Yes yes, very funny," she says, "Haymitch is supposed to be the one to help you, organize sponsors, send you gifts. He'll be all that stands between you and death!"
She's right, of course. And almost as if on cue, Haymitch staggers into the car. It would be funny if we were under different circumstances. He seems somehow more drunk than before, and I wonder if he ever actually took a nap or not. Maybe that was his intention but he got lost along the way in whatever car the alcohol is in. There's nearly a million cars on this train, so I'd be surprised if there wasn't a bar car.
I can't wonder for long though, as he promptly vomits all over himself - along with the unfortunate pieces of furniture and wallpaper that happen to be in his direct surroundings. Quicker than I can blink, Haymitch suddenly trips over what appears to be an imaginary obstacle and faceplants onto the floor, unmoving.
The remaining three of us - Effie must have made a swift escape from the situation during the commotion - sit in stunned silence for a moment. But then without speaking we're up and on our feet, rolling Haymitch onto his back. I try to quell the churning in my stomach from the smell of the vomit he's covered in as we work together to lift Haymitch. Katniss and I take his legs while Peeta - arguably the stronger out of the three of us - grabs underneath his arms. His face scrunches in disgust and I do not envy being in his shoes. We lug his corpse-like weight to an empty room with a bathroom, and I'm utterly relieved when Peeta suggests that he can take it from here.
"Are you sure?" I ask, more out of courtesy than anything else. "I can stay if you don't think you can manage."
"No no, I've got it."
His half-hearted smile is unconvincing to say the least, but Katniss and I are both too eager to leave the situation than to offer up any more protest on the matter. Katniss offers to grab someone to help Peeta when we go to our rooms, but once again he declines the offer - he must be really set on doing this alone. Maybe he thinks it will endear him slightly to Haymitch and that will be what persuades him to finally act like a mentor towards them - I doubt Haymitch will have any recollection of what happened though, so it's probably a lost cause. So Katniss and I mutter our goodnights and leave the sleeping car in order to try and remember where our own might be located.
"It's kind of ironic, isn't it," I remark once we've almost reached her sleeping car. "How we're the ones who are taking care of him. When really it should be the other way around."
Katniss laughs softly.
"Yeah, I guess it is." She says.
With that, we say goodnight, and I find myself back in my room. I change into some pajamas I discover inside one of the many drawers in the wardrobe, and search through the various desks around the room to see if I can find anything to write with. Eventually I manage to locate a pen and a notebook, and sit down on the edge of the gigantic bed with the intent to watch the Reapings again and get a full analysis of the other tributes.
I realize however that I don't actually know how to work the screen on the wall, and have to track someone down in order to have them explain it to me. Once that's out of the way, I turn on the television and begin to take notes. The tributes from one are how I saw them before, a pretty girl, and a rather tall boy who walks with the confidence of someone who thinks they're far greater than they really are. The tributes from two are I saw them before as well, well fed and stocky. Though the girl - Clove - is far shorter than her male counterpart, her eyes have a sort of divisiveness to them that makes me think there's more to her than meets the eye. The tributes from 3 look young, and smart, but I can't help but notice how overwhelmingly tall the girl is. The tributes on from there are largely unremarkable, standard among the expectations which are placed upon their districts. However, like shining stars in the night sky, a few notable faces stand out among them. There's one redheaded girl from district five, who doesn't look very strong, but I can tell she's intelligent. There's a little girl from district eleven who looks tinier even than Prim, and I get the sense that the two of them would be friends in a different world. Unlike Prim, there are no volunteers for the little girl from district eleven.
In my viewing, I note that the male Capitol Tribute is a boy from district seven - the lumber district. He looks like he can't be younger than eighteen, and he's well built. Cedar, I think they said his name is. He's tall - taller than me presumably - with tanned skin and dark brown hair that falls wildly over his face. I'm sure they'll fix it up somehow once they style him in the Capitol. Despite the obvious advantage of his physical build, he stands observantly once he's been selected - so I presume that he must have a mind about him. I can work with this, I think.
The recap shifts to what seems to be a live interview and I turn up the volume, setting my notebook to the side. On the television is the all too recognizable face of Caesar Flickerman, who smiles in that too-wide smile that seems almost like a genetic trait for Capitol Citizens at this point. Across from him sporting an equally large smile is another man - though notably skinnier than Caesar. He looks more muted, and less over the top than what I've come to expect, but he still holds the self-posessed air belonging to someone from the Capitol. They talk for a brief moment about the 'recruits' - as Caesar calls us - this year, and Caesar talks about the previous experience as Head Gamemaker of the man sitting opposite him. Ah, so he's the one orchestrating the change in the games. They comment momentarily on how interesting it was to have Katniss volunteer for Prim, being from District Twelve and all, but they don't harp over it for too long. Clearly it doesn't mean as much to them as it does to us.
"So…Seneca. Tell us about this exciting new pool of tributes." Caesar drawls, leaning into the microphone and looking to the audience as he does so. A hush falls over the crowd.
"What is there really to say?" The man, Seneca, replies. His response seems somehow lacking and I can tell that Caesar has picked up on this too.
"Tell us anything. What's it all about? Is it going to stick?"
Seneca laughs awkwardly, and something about that doesn't settle right with me. The Capitol Citizens love a tell-all, so why not give it to them? What is he hiding? The same creature of doubt from before begins to crawl its way back into my mind, latching its claws into my skull.
"Well…"
"Well?"
"We felt that, since we in the Capitol share in the grief and loss of the old days, it's time that we too pay tribute to the errors of the past. We want all the citizens of Panem to be represented within these games."
Something about the way he said it is too rehearsed, too familiar. I can't quite place where I've heard it before though.
"Very well spoken." Caesar comments with a grin, garnering a slight round of applause.
"This change is meant to show that we are all united as a country, and as such, our tributes should reflect all of us, not just the districts who rebelled."
Then it hits me. The reason it all sounds so familiar is because it sounds almost exactly what I said - which was just a recycled version of what Effie had said in the square at its core. It's almost a non-answer in a way. It's the same answer as before, but without any elaboration. As the applause rings out across the screen, I stare in utter disbelief at what I've just witnessed. Why can't they elaborate on a reason? But what I find lackluster doesn't seem to register with the crowd, they seem to eat it up, thoroughly entertained by the whole thing. The applause grows louder, and I wonder to myself if the reason - the real reason - is to keep the Citizens of the Capitol entertained. Yes, that must be it, I think. It would explain the real reasoning behind other changes they've made to the games in the past too. The Victor's Village, the Victory Tour, all instituted seemingly out of the blue in order to keep the public eye on the games at all times. Constant entertainment manufactured right to their doorsteps - into their living rooms even. Gale was right. At the end of the day, all they want is a good show. It's a shame I probably won't live long enough to tell him so.
"What about the prize, if a Capitol Tribute wins? Do they become one of us?" Caesar says the last part as a joke, and the audience bursts into laughter.
"We're working on something very special in the case that a Capitol Tribute wins." Seneca says with a beaming smile.
"Tell us! Tell us! We're all ears."
"Oh I can't just yet, that's a secret I'm afraid I'm not allowed to reveal until later."
And with that, Caesar feigns a pout and the show continues on to some less interesting topics concerning the arena. I decide that perhaps it's best to adjust my notes on the tributes I've seen and organize my thoughts. I begin trying to remember the most notable things about them. I try to match faces to names, too - though that seems to be a losing battle. The girl from district one - Glimmer or Shimmer or something like that I think they said her name was - she seems pretty, and relatively well fed. The boy, Marvel they said, looks athletic. Well, as athletic as one can be if you're not from the Capitol. In truth, while Districts One and Two are much better fed than the rest of us, they still seem to be struggling from what I've seen in glimpses on television in the past. District One's export is luxury goods, but I doubt they get to see very much of that - just like us with the coal and minerals we produce. And Two isn't much better, stone-masonry. They're builders, so I suppose that's why they have a bit more of a natural advantage when it comes to building up muscle. It makes me wonder why District Seven isn't a career district - you'd think they would be with all that axe swinging they must do.
The boy from District Two is strikingly well built. He'll be the one to beat if it comes down to strength. I can't think of any of the other tributes I've seen that could match him in size or build, except for maybe the boy from District Eleven. That would be an interesting matchup, and I wonder if they'll try to rope him into being a Career seeing as the boy from District Four is so frail looking. Clove - the girl - seems like she too will be someone to look out for in the arena. She doesn't look exceptionally skinny or well built, but I know that she must have some sort of proficiency with weapons. Maybe something lightweight like darts. She looks intelligent too, I could see as much during the recap in the Parlor car too. The girl from five looks intelligent as well, and light-footed. I would pick the two of them if I had to create my own alliance, I think. Working alongside them, while having a district partner and the aid of Katniss and Peeta, we could match the regular group of careers. Well, if my district partner even wants to work with me that is. I hope Cedar is kind, or willing to cooperate with me at the very least. He didn't look too off-putting from what I could gather from the recap, but I find it's hard to tell these things through a screen.
I feel my eyes begin to strain as I continue taking notes, the weight of the day growing heavier by the hour. Suddenly, it's light outside, and I find myself in a half-laying down position on the end of the bed. I must have fallen asleep. If I did, it was dreamless and a part of me wonders if it's better that way.
I hastily dress, and slink out of my room towards the dining car - a rumbling in my stomach guiding me towards a heavenly smell. I hear what sounds like a crash and a shout before I approach the dining car, and wonder if Haymitch has drunkenly passed out again. What I walk in on however is a scene far stranger than I'd imagined. Haymitch - surprisingly not the one on the floor - is sitting at the table with an expression that's a mix of shocked and impressed. Like he's just said something that only he finds witty. It's the most lucidity I've ever seen him display, and I find it mildly disturbing. Peeta is on the ground, and it looks like he's been knocked over. Meanwhile Katniss has stood up from her seat, and is leaning over the table, a small knife held in her hand plunged into the soft wood. Something definitely went down before I got here, and I'm almost jealous of having missed it. Peeta turns to me as he stands up.
"He's refusing to be actually helpful." He says with a glower, caressing the side of his jaw.
"And he punched Peeta for no good reason." Katniss adds, having also turned her attention to me.
They remind me of children tattling to a teacher about another kid bullying them in school, and it almost makes me laugh. I notice a glass having shattered on the floor nearby to the table, and wonder if it got thrown during whatever commotion I missed. I'll have to ask Katniss or Peeta later. Haymitch's face has twisted into one of utter confusion upon witnessing me in the doorway.
"Who is that?" He asks, glancing briefly in Katniss and Peeta's direction.
"Well I'm obviously the ghost of tributes past," I reply sarcastically, "here to cause you to look deep within and repent for your previous inactions."
Peeta laughs for a moment, and then stops himself. Katniss looks like she's holding back a laugh, and I can almost swear I see a glint of amusement in Haymitch's eyes.
"Willow is the Female Capitol Tribute." Katniss says helpfully.
"What the fuck is a Capitol Tribute?" Haymitch asks, astonished.
"I honestly wish I knew. They're being awfully tight-lipped about the whole thing." I remark.
It's truly quite an annoyance to have none of the answers, yet be expected to all the same. In truth, I'm just as in the dark as Haymitch or anyone else is. Peeta reaches for some ice from a bowl in the center of the table when Haymitch stops him and advises him against it. He wants it to look like Peeta got into a fight with someone before the games even began - and brushes off Peeta's insistence that it's illegal to do so. He asks Katniss about her skills of stabbing something other than a table, and she throws the knife into the wall with an accuracy that I can tell impresses Haymitch - and seems to floor Peeta, as his jaw has dropped in astonishment.
"Get over there," Haymitch says, motioning to the center of the room. "Let me get a better look at you."
Unsure of whether he means just the two of them, or all three of us, we make our way to the middle of the train car. Haymitch takes to poking and prodding us, lifting up an arm here or there, like he's studying us for some weird science experiment. His eyes are alight with an intensity and life that I've never seen in him before. He surveys us for a moment longer, before he nods to himself.
"Not bad. You'll look decent enough once the stylists get their hands on you, and you're fit enough that maybe it won't be so hopeless for you after all." He mutters half to himself, and half to us.
I'm not really looking forward to the Capitol's fixing of us, and I wonder what it is they'll want to change about me. It's no secret that tributes are made to look more appealing to the citizens of the Capitol. It's one of the many reasons that they'll choose to sponsor us. If a tribute is promising or attractive enough, the richer and wealthier citizens of the Capitol can choose to send a gift to that tribute while they're in the arena. Usually it's something they need, like food, water or medicine. Sponsored items tend to get more expensive as things progress, and what costs pennies on the first day could cost you a mountain more in the final stages of the game, so rich sponsors are important.
"I'll make you a deal," Haymitch says with a sigh, pinching the bridge of his nose. "You do exactly what I say, and I'll help you in the arena."
I can't tell if his deal extends to me as well. None of us seem really sure whether he's supposed to be my mentor as well or not. Peeta glances at the shattered glass on the floor, and I wonder if it was Haymitch's. Though he doesn't outright say anything about it, I can tell what he's thinking. Haymitch won't be much help if he has access to alcohol.
Haymitch seems to come to the same conclusion. "If you interfere with my drinking, the deal is off. If you don't, I promise to keep myself sober enough to be of help to you."
"Ok." Peeta says.
"Help us then." Katniss's acceptance of the deal comes out more demanding than agreeable.
But Haymitch seems like he's given all the help he can for the time being, as he tells Katniss to be patient since we're about to arrive. He remarks something about not resisting our stylists even though we'll despise what they do to us, and leaves the dining car. The three of us look between each other in confusion.
"Did he say we're almost there?" Peeta asks.
The Capitol sits in the middle of a vast range of mountains, and is supposed to be one of the most beautiful and breathtaking cities ever built. My heart beats faster in my chest, a mixture of nervousness and excitement about what's to come. We rush to one of the windows and throw open the curtains. The outside is dark, and I can't make anything out - we must be underground. But it isn't dark for long. Suddenly we're out in the open again, and we can set our sights on the Capitol. It's even more beautiful in person. The are glass buildings that loom tall over us for as far as the eye can see. They glitter in the sunlight, sparkling like diamonds. Some of them are stone, and others are colored so brightly that I have to squint in order to make them out.
As we approach the station, I can see that a rather large crowd of people has formed. They're waiting huddled together, like each one of them is trying to be the first to see us. The closer we get, the better I can see them, and I'm taken aback. Some of them have skin tinted as bright as the buildings beside us, and others have eye colors and shapes which seem unnatural - almost inhuman. They wear outfits so complex it gives me a headache, and it almost seems as if each of them is trying to outdo the other with the absurdity of their looks. I see a woman with what looks to be whiskers, and her hair is an obnoxious shade of yellow that's so neon it nearly blinds me. Another member of the crowd, a man, has eyebrows so mixed with greens, yellows, and browns, that it almost looks like he has two caterpillars resting upon his face. Maybe that was his intended purpose, I think. In a crowd like this, it makes the clothes Effie wears seem normal, like you could lose her in it if you didn't follow her close enough. The thought makes me want to laugh. Effie stands out like a sore thumb in the district, and by looking at her in a crowd of us you'd think she sucked all the color out of us and took it for herself. But here, in a city like this, she's not the most outrageously dressed person by far.
The crowd waves at us as we approach the platform, and I see Peeta wave back, smiling slightly. Katniss however has seemed to recuse herself from the window, less amazed by the people of the Capitol as Peeta and I seem to be. Her face looks almost disgusted, and I hope for her sake that it's not visible to the crowd outside. She'll need to work on hiding her dislike of the Capitol if she wants to gain any form of sponsorship. I give a light wave to the crowd, who seem to be delighted upon our acknowledgement of them, hollering and cheering as we pass them and finally arrive at the station. Katniss shoots Peeta a look as we cease staring out the window - the crowd having disappeared once we reach our platform.
"What? They might be rich."
Peeta and Katniss are ushered out first, but Effie - who I've finally seen for the first time today - instructs me to stay put. When Effie returns, she tells me that I'm going to meet my district partner, and that they'll explain more about what we're to do once we've been cleaned up and everyone is more settled.
I'm not given much of a choice to protest though, as I myself am quickly ushered off the train, and find myself standing on a stone platform across from a rather tall boy. He looks a bit different from how he did when I saw him on the TV last night, and I realize that he must have been worked over by the Capitol stylists already. He looks very modestly dressed, and stands with an almost humble quality about him. There's a resigned looking young woman behind him, and I wonder if she's his Capitol escort, as Effie was ours. She looks strangely familiar, but I can't quite place where it is that I've seen her before. The boy looks nervous, and holds a small plant in his hands - a small bundle of leaves with tiny white flowers at the top. I recognize it from the books of foliage that Katniss's father used to show us in order to teach us what we could and couldn't eat in the wild. I think it used to be called Starfruit or Chickweed.
"Hi." He says once we're face to face. "I brought you a peace offering."
Shit, I think. The thought about bringing a peace offering didn't even occur to me, and I mentally kick myself for it. I notice some cameras out of the corner of my eye, and realize we're probably being filmed. Of course, this has to be entertaining to see the first meeting between the two of us. I decide to put my best foot forward, since it seems like Cedar is trying to do the same.
"How kind of you," I try, offering a smile. "How'd you know I hadn't eaten yet?"
The joke seems to surprise Cedar for a minute before he laughs in a hearty, genuine sort of way. "I'm Cedar."
"I'm Willow. It's nice to meet you Cedar." I decide it's better not to mention just yet that I've already taken notes on him - and the other tributes - the night before.
Effie - ever a creature of punctuality - interrupts our little meeting to tell me that we better make our way off the platform before we fall too behind schedule, and we follow her lead. Cedar begins to tell me what he's been told about our predicament as we walk - it seems like they've let him in on a bit more than I've been told so far.
"They said we'll be allowed out of our rooms during otherwise unpermitted hours, so we'll be given some extra time to strategize and work together - if we want to work together that is."
"We don't have our own separate lodgings?" I ask.
"Doesn't seem like it. They told me we'll be staying with the tributes from our original districts, that's why we're being afforded the extra time."
"And our mentors? Did they say who it'll be?"
"Not really. They said that the mentors from our district are expected to help out - it wouldn't be fair if we were mentored by a gamemaker or something."
He's speaking almost hushedly, and I wonder why. Maybe he doesn't want the woman behind him to hear. The whole thing seems rather poorly planned, for the Capitol. My heart begins to race as I realize that the odds of this setup working in our favor are slim. I also realize that it's very likely that the mentors won't have enough time to get around to us while also helping their existing tributes. It might work out alright for Cedar, his district gets two mentors from their tribute pool. Even if one took time to mentor us, it wouldn't pull all resources away from their other tributes. But Katniss and Peeta just have Haymitch. It would be almost impossible for him to mentor the three of us, I imagine it's hard enough having two tributes to mentor.
"I can't imagine there'll be very much extra help we can expect from my district. Us only having one mentor and all." I say, causing Cedar to pause briefly.
It seems like he's just realized, or perhaps just remembered that District Twelve rarely makes it past the initial bloodbath, let alone far enough to win. As long as I've been alive there hasn't been a winner to be born from our district. I doubt that the mentors will feel very much loyalty to us anyway, as we don't exactly represent our home districts anymore. We represent the people who put them - put all of us - into the games in the first place. It would be unfair of us to expect them to dedicate themselves to helping us over the tributes who bear the responsibility of representing their districts.
"I'm sure we'll still get some help from our - District Seven's anyway - mentors." He says.
"And if we don't?" I ask.
He pauses for a moment, as we've almost reached the doors to a large building. It seems like we'll be separated in a moment and - despite all his eagerness to inform me of what he knows - I can't quite tell if he means to work together or if it's just an act for the cameras.
"Then we'll help each other." He says rather decidedly before holding out his hand to me.
"Friends?"
I hesitate for a moment, trying to make out whether he's being genuine or not. Looking at his eyes, I can see his small smile reach them, and I decide that his kindness must come from a place of truth. And besides, it will be nice to have someone on my side, since it's starting to look like we won't have too many people like that through our stay. I extend my hand in return, and try for a small smile in return.
"Friends."