Chapter 17: The Gamemaker
Ornately decorated doors of the clinic stood before her as Scarus led Sera up the marble steps. The doors were opened by two Elite guards standing on each side who both nodded at Scarus while he passed. Sera kept her face blank while observing the interaction, though she was surprised to see them instead of Peacekeepers she was so accustomed to.
Iaso Emley Clinic was a prestigious clinic, she knew but she didn't realize how prestigious it was until that moment. Either that or her next patient was someone of significant importance. She'd admit to herself, the patient had her attention a little. Their identity was still a mystery to her even so she was a little interested like she had gotten a new toy after so many years.
Scarus glanced at Sera who was deep in her thoughts, her eyes downcast, paying close attention to her steps. He reached out for her, thinking she might be struck by another one of her moments, only for her to quicken her pace as she looked up with a gentle smile on her face while greeting the clinic staff. Her sudden changes always surprised him. Everytime, he thought he knew her, she'd change her behavior.
The two came to a halt outside a corridor that was guarded closely and had a glass door barricading it. The guards noticed them and picked up their communicators before a nurse with cobalt blue hair and matching geometric makeup stepped in front of the corridor. She profusely apologized for her lateness, avoiding eye-contact with the guards and Scarus while Sera tried her best to reassure her.
When the doors of the guarded corridor slid open, the apologetic and scared nurse took over as Sera's guide while Scarus slowed his pace to walk behind the two. He kept his eye on Sera's back who pretended he was not there.
"The patient is stable now and is okay to see visitors now. You have two to three hours of visiting time today." The nurse announced stopping in front of the sole patient room in the corridor, the rest of the doors were labeled as 'Utilities' or 'Equipment'. "Please go in."
"Thank you for your service." Sera smiled politely at the nurse who let out a sigh of relief and smiled back. The rumors about Sera were true, the nurse thought as she guided Scarus back to the entrance of the corridor.
Scarus refused to move. "I'm sorry but the patient insisted on seeing Miss Reza alone." He glanced at Sera who gave her guard a sympathetic look, mouthing she'll be fine without him. Inwardly she was happy. She'd free of him for a brief moment of the day.
Reluctantly her guard accepted the nurse's words and allowed her to lead him back. He couldn't help but turn around to check around on Sera who had already gone in, empty-handed for the first time ever to a patient visit. He had a strange feeling that something would change that day and he stopped, thinking of going back but his former colleagues were already in front of him, ready to take him back.
"Ah, Miss Seraphine Reza." A wheezy voice greeted her as she stepped into the room. The owner of the voice seemed to be a man with pale gold hair, his face was marred with some wrinkles, something she found quite peculiar for someone from the Capitol. "I was wondering how long it would take before he sent you." He started coughing as soon as he finished the sentence.
Sera moved quickly to pour the man a glass of water and passed it to him. Grateful, he took the drink and finished it before shakily attempting to put the glass back. She took it back from him and filled it with water once again before putting it back on the smooth metal bedside table.
"I heard you requested to meet me." With an ever-present gentle smile she took a seat next to the bed.
The weak man looked up at Sera, examining her. His large pupils peered at her as he fought off shivers. He opened his mouth and was about to say something, only for his voice to be stolen by a series of violent and bloody coughs. Sera handed him a handkerchief and watched with concern as the man coughed up copious amounts of blood.
Enlarged pupils, coughing up blood, shivers and weakness.
She knew those symptoms well but she didn't comment on it. Not yet anyway.
"I did request to see you but…I was denied." The man wiped the corners of his mouth with the bloodied handkerchief. "Though we did have the privilege of meeting before."
"We did?" She tried to remember him and an image of the man in front of her appeared, he wasn't in a hospital bed there, no, he was standing in the center of a small crowd as he chatted with them. "Oh yes, we did. The Victory Ball. Forgive me, I've been meeting so many good people that your name and face might have accidentally slipped my mind."
The Man chuckled. "Oh I know all about your visits, Miss Reza and those people were good, very good people. It's a shame what happened to them." She stiffened visibly and her face darkened for a split second but before she plastered on a sympathetic smile, nodding along to the man's laments. "I'll reintroduce myself. Plutarch Heavensbee, Head Gamemaker for the past five years and this year, though it might be my last."
"Because of your illness."
"I suppose you could call it one."
She noted two things then. One, Plutarch was most likely aware of the President's plans along with Sera's arrangement with him and two, he, himself was poisoned.
The bloody coughs, the trembling, dry flakey skin and enlarged pupils. He wasn't ill at all, he was poisoned and he knew. Yet, one look at him told her that he wasn't afraid at all. She supposed he wouldn't be, given he was the Head Gamemaker for the past five years and even for that year. A man like Plutarch Heavensbee wouldn't be afraid of death at all, especially since dealing with death was his job. He was desensitized to it and now that it had come for him, he didn't feel so afraid.
"Would you like to play a game of chess, Miss Reza or should I just call you Seraphine." Plutarch reached out for a button and pressed it once, sitting back once he was done.
"Either is fine."
The nurse with the pale blue hair appeared. She stood in front of Plutarch's bed with her hands in front of her, waiting. "I'd like a chessboard please and something light to eat for me and Miss Reza."
The nurse nodded and left the room before returning with a slick metal tablet. She started setting up a table nearby with the chessboard, opening the tablet and the pieces sprung up. Then she pulled the table closer to Plutarch's bed, asking Sera to move her chair a bit back before she set the table in-between.
She left the room again and returned with another nurse, a moment later. The two had returned with a few bowls of dried fruits and other foods that Sera didn't recognize. When everything was set up, the two left.
"Shall we?" Plutarch motioned to the chessboard and started rearranging it. "Black or White. I'll choose if you don't mind."
"Not at all." Unlike her game with Scarus, Plutarch assigned her white instead of black. She didn't complain but she noted it down to remember. The colors might prove to be important later on. He was the Head Gamemaker after all, nothing would be as simple as they seemed with someone like him.
She watched as with a motion, he changed the orientation of the board. The white side in front of her while black in front of him. "I'll apologize in advance about my lack of experience. I've only played this game once." She spoke as she made the first move, choosing a pawn from the center of the board.
"Really?" Plutarch raised his brows and calmly assessed her. Every gaze of his felt scrutinizing like he was trying to read her mind. She worked hard to prevent her mask from cracking. "You look like someone who plays chess."
She let out a soft laugh and shook her head. "Thank you but no I've only played it once against my personal guard who actually taught me about it. He was very patient with someone as inexperienced as me." Scarus believed her lies with little questions but this man in front of her seemed to question everything at the same time acting as if he was not being serious.
In response, he said nothing and moved a pawn. She took a moment to assess each of her potential moves and the outcomes before finally moving her pawn forward instead of moving a new one. She wanted to see how he would retaliate first before coming up with a plan.
"Shall I tell you a story while we're playing?" He weakly leaned against the table and looked up at her. His abnormally large pupils were a little daunting to her and she had no choice but to pay attention to him. She knew it was just the simple side effects of the poison. Still she didn't feel so comfortable looking at him, it reminded her too much of her dead allies.
For a second, Plutarch's face flickered to another. One with pale gray skin and light green veins, bloodied mouth and reddish hair covered his dead gaze. Gaius opened and closed his mouth helplessly while moaning in pain. She shut her eyes, pretending like she had something in them but she could still hear his last words in her head.
"N—no—d—kill me."
His muffled final pleas repeated in her head like a broken record left to play endlessly. She desperately tried to hold herself together and focus on the task at hand. "N—no—d—kill me." She opened her eyes and he was still there, just like the day he died. "N—no—d—kill me." She kept hearing those final words of his and she kept seeing him.
So she looked down at the board, pretending like she was examining the board, not avoiding his gaze. "Sorry there was something in my eye." Her curiosity won and finally she answered with a bright smile. "I would love to hear your story." It wasn't like she would give her full attention to him, he'd die soon anyway, not by her hands.
He smiled at her. His eyes twinkled brightly and for a moment, his weakness had disappeared. It was only for a moment but she felt as if she had made a huge life-changing decision.
"I'll begin. Our story begins with a Kingdom and a King who rules his subjects with an iron fist. The King's surrounded by many subjects, some undyingly loyal, some loyal only to the empire itself and some desperate for change as a result, the Kingdom which was really an empire split into many fragments—fourteen to be exact. From this shattered but united empire, two factions formed; whites, those who supported the King and blacks, those who yearned for change."
At first, she didn't pay attention, too focused on the game, making deliberately careless moves to throw Plutarch off, the more he spoke, the more she couldn't help but pay attention. It took her a second to realize what Plutarch was doing.
He was making a story out of the chessboard.
The black and white and their endless wars with the two sides always clashing, no matter the outcome. This time, however, he had twisted the story and made it seem as though one side, the white side in this case, were tyrants.
It made sense, her sister and Huxley used to think that playing with the side was more advantageous as they started the game. Statistically, white side did have an edge over the black side with the first move principal. Perhaps the white faction were tyrants for this precise reason.
She would admit it was a creative story.
The chessboard and the game of chess, changed into a tale of a crumbling empire on the verge of revolution. It was an appealing story, she'd admit but it was a story she would never repeat. The idea was creative yet from what she knew so far, the story seemed a little skewed and listening to it felt like she was about to commit treason, jeopardizing her own safety and her family's lives.
Yet at the same time, his story was simply a story about the game of chess itself. Wasn't it? She didn't think so after all, the Head Gamemaker didn't seem like a simple man. "So the black faction was the treasonous faction?" She guessed, testing his reaction.
She half-expected Plutarch to not only answer her question, she also expected him to speak negatively of the rebellious black faction. "Yes but those desperate ones wanted change and to be free of tyranny." He spoke while bringing out a black knight.
"Change isn't always necessarily good. Not all change is good. For all they know, they could be replacing one tyrant with another."
"I agree and so did the black side. "
"True." She picked up her pawn and used it to take his rook which he found very amusing. "But they're traitors, nonetheless."
"I suppose they are since they're going against the system that was set in place for decades—a small price to pay for change." Plutarch picked up one of his black knights and moved them right in front of her two pawns. He probably expected to use one to take her knight but if she did, she'd leave an opening for his bishop. "Carrying on from where I left on—see the King had two bishops, two trusted aides, Out of the two, the King suspected one of supporting the blacks."
"And did he really support them?" She moved the other pawn, ignoring the bait. His story was starting to reflect Panem a little and she fought the urge to let her curiosity win. She'd be foolish if she actually took the bait and asked if his story was more based on Panem than the game they were playing right now so she carried on playing.
"Suppose he did. The bishop grew up in the lap of luxury with a name that would rival that of the King and his cronies but as the years passed, he saw the injustice inflicted upon the people and he pitied. He started to yearn for change. Now tell me, is he so wrong to harbor these thoughts?"
No, he wasn't.
Those were the words she wanted to say. Her true feelings. She sympathized with the traitorous bishop, wanting change was not supposed to be a crime but the Kingdom in the story felt eerily similar to Panem. Even if it wasn't, it felt like a test and she was not sure if anyone else was listening or if her answers would not reach the ears of the President.
"...He should've persuaded the King about the change he wanted instead of committing or before even thinking of committing treason." She finally said after a moment of hesitation, moving one of her own bishops out of its spot and keeping it behind one of her pawns.
Plutarch said nothing in response. He moved on his pawns and used it to take one of her knights. She wasn't so sad to see it go, after all, it was a sacrificial knight she wanted to lose. "Continuing, the bishop turned his back to the King but he dutifully carried on his duties, not out of fear, he was biding his time. He wanted change—change took time so he started to carefully pick new pawns for the King but you see these pawns would later on bring on the change he wanted."
"Do the pawns know that?"
"Would they be pawns if they did?" He questioned back and she had to agree. "One of these pawns was a really talented individual you see, the bishop was very excited for her."
She frowned, his hand hovered over her own pawn. "It's a 'her'?" Eying the white pawn that he hovered around. There was no way for him to take that pawn in one move. His king was still in its starting position guarded by a knight and a bishop. The black queen was in the middle of the board.
"Is that a problem?"
"Not at all."
He smiled and used one of his knights, moving it in front of her queen. It was a silly move, she thought. She could easily take his knight until she looked at the whole board. If she took his knight, she'd lose her queen to one of his bishops.
"Anyways, the pawn was very useful, he almost saw her as a potential equal, a partner to further his plans for change. He was sure she would be a key player in the final game, though no one could see how talented she was, he did, at least, he thought he was the only one. You see, the King also saw her potential so he brought her into his fold and put her to work. In one fell swoop, the bishop lost a lot of his own, setting him back years."
"Sounds rough. His own choices backfired."
Plutarch seemed amused by her answer. He glanced up and met her gaze with a small mysterious smile on his face. It was like he was laughing at some joke she had just said as he carried on with his tale. "Very unfortunate." He replied before focusing on the game. "The pawn he personally picked turned on him without even knowing and he was suspected of being a traitor for attempts to save what he had been building while the other bishop celebrated his fall."
"What happened next?"
"The traitorous Bishop—" He pointed to the bishop who only moved in the black squares. "Was the one he valued the most, he couldn't replace or get rid of him just yet so he tested him himself and then he let the pawn the bishop had chosen test him."
"Did he manage to pass the tests?"
"The first one, he passed though he was afflicted by some side effects of the test that left him on the edge of death while the second test was still a mystery."
Though she wouldn't admit it, Plutarch's story was very interesting to her. It was something she hadn't heard before. "And why is that?"
"Because the pawn's loyalty was undecided." She looked up in surprise, almost knocking down the white king from her side. "The pawn might've been working obediently under the King, like so many other pawns, she didn't believe in him. She knew just what to say to the King to fool him and his knight of her loyalty yet her own loyalty was a mystery to all so the bishop attempted to recruit her."
"Even though he was dying."
"The pawn could save him, at least he believed she could."
"How? Was she gifted in medicine?"
"Not exactly. She was more knowledgeable in…poisons." She almost reacted at his words but stopped herself.
"Oh. That's…something so the King was aware of her talents and used it to eliminate his critics?"
Plutarch nodded before carrying on, moving his hand to his pawn which was also on the edge on the board but Sera's side. "The King treated her as the perfect pawn while the bishop saw her as something else," He picked up his pawn and replaced it swiftly with a bishop. "An equal."
"You mentioned that before."
"I did. Now my question to you is; who do you think is the pawn really loyal to? Take your time, I'm not in a rush to get my answer."
Staring at the board, Sera could almost picture the pieces as the characters of his story. The pawn, the bishop and both the King wanted. Who was she loyal to? She wondered to herself as she accidentally promoted one of her pawns for a bishop she had lost. She stared at her board in silence. She didn't mean to do that all.
Her opponent found her mistake a little amusing. Not surprising to her at the least, he probably could not easily win the game unless she used the new bishop to take his pawn that was the closest to being promoted in the next move if he actually moved it one stop forward. The pawn would still be a step away from its destination but it would be in the perfect spot for her to take.
"Herself?" Sera guessed as Plutarch did move his pawn closer to her end. "The pawn was not loyal to either side but rather herself and maybe the people she cared about."
Plutarch paused in his motions and looked up. He was still shaking a little and his pupils were still enlarged but the coughing had subsided. "Is that your final answer?" He questioned with a light grin and narrowed eyes.
She nodded. "It's the only option that makes sense if I'm being honest. You said that she's not fully loyal to the King but she knows what to say to put on the appearance of loyalty and there's not enough evidence from the bishop's side so I think she doesn't know the bishop or his cause at all."
"She doesn't." He confirmed. "He wanted to let her know, he tried to let her know of his cause and to prevent any further losses—" As he was speaking, she took his pawn which was so close to her end. Seeing her take his pawn, he stilled. His eyes trembled and a silent rage crossed his features before he returned to being his calm self.
"Then why didn't he?"
Staring down at her board, she checked how many pieces she had left. Five of her pawns were gone, the remaining three were scattered around. One of her rooks, bishop and knight were gone but she managed to bring in another bishop so she had two bishops. She still had her queen and her king was relatively safe. Plutarch was a better player than Scarus. Unlike her guard, the Head Gamemaker was attentive, less arrogant and more calculative. Playing against him was challenging and Sera loved a good challenge.
It was more entertaining for her.
"Because he couldn't." He answered after moments of silent playing, he had attempted to salvage the damage Sera had caused and mitigate his losses. Somehow he managed to hold on but she, to his surprise, had the upper hand. "The pawn was surprisingly well guarded for a pawn, being watched over a knight on the behalf of the King."
Sera had grown quiet, listening to him and letting his words mull in her mind. Plutarch's story was too similar to the current events and what she had been going through.
Was this story about her?
It couldn't be.
She glanced at him and he was looking at the board, still attempting to salvage her damage. He made his move and waited for her to make her move so she did. She took another one of his pawns without hesitation.
"He tried to approach the pawn and even used another pawn to speak to her but they all fell through. The pawn was very careful." He moved his bishop and took her rook. "So he tried again, he used the same pawn to go after what he wanted. He failed again and again. Even the other pawn suspected something, he suspected his feelings were being used for something else—he wasn't wrong. He was being used."
She stopped listening then. Her mind was buzzing with questions she really wanted to ask the bis—Plutarch. It was becoming clearer and clearer that the story was very much set in Panem and was about her, the President, Scarus and him. The other pawn, she wasn't so sure. One name came to her mind thinking of the other pawn.
"Finnick?" She accidentally blurted out without meaning to.
She let out a gasp and abruptly stood up, facing the Gamemaker who stared at her with a wide grin on his face. "Ah, I was wondering how long it was going to take for you to notice or maybe you already did."
"The bishop…it's you and the prized pawn—"
"—Is you. Flattered?" She shook her head, her heart hammered against her chest and she found it harder to breathe. Plutarch Heavensbee was not a simple man, no simple man can rise to be the right hand of the President. "Well, you do seem the more humble type. I'm sure you've connected the dots by now. Let's stop pretending and let me get to the point."
She breathed in and out, calming herself. This was the man who created her arena and the mutts inside it, she should've seen this coming. This meeting was a trap, a trap set by him for her. She had to give him some credit for being able to manipulate the President to some degree to allow this. "I don't want any part of this and I'll pretend like I don't know anything."
"Why? You want the games to carry on? For countless innocents to die."
Shutting her eyes, she tried to erase him and shut his words out. It didn't work and now she was stuck with his words ringing in her ears as the words pierced her weak heart, digging into it and leaving shards of guilt in the wounds.
"You're the Head Gamemaker! You control the arena and how the games are run and maybe even the tributes and the winners." She hissed back. He was a hypocrite, chastising her for her inaction yet actively taking part in the games. She didn't have a choice in any of this. "I have nothing to gain helping you but everything to lose." She added, reminding him, at the end of the day she was still a pawn.
"You're right. I—" Violent coughs interrupted him mid-speech as he shakily grabbed his bloodied handkerchief. He held it up to his mouth and covered it, coughing until blood came out again. "...I am a hypocrite but I can't watch all of this go on any longer. He's lost his way or maybe he was like this from the start—I don't know but I do know I need all the help I can get." He rumbled, half-delirious from his poisoning.
Unmoved, she stared at him with a blank face. She sympathized with the people of Panem. Those in the districts who would be forced to fight in the games and those who had lost their loved ones, she did pity them but she needed to put herself and her family before them.
Still she did want change. Maybe if she lived long enough to start a family of her own, she would need to consider change. "Your cause…what are the chances of it succeeding?"
"Right now?" She nodded, motioning him to carry on. "It'll take us ten to twenty years to succeed."
"That's how long he might last." She muttered under her breath, thinking of the President's age. Though she still wasn't taken by Plutarch's plan.
"Yes but with you and maybe more on board, we can do it within five to six years."
"I'm sorry I can't."
"Because of your family."
Sera looked away. Her family and her came first. "I can't put my trust in a cause that I don't fully believe or know will succeed."
He let out a weak sad laugh before nodding. He looked down at the unfinished game of chess with a disappointed and helpless look. Without another word, he shut his eyes in hopelessness. His cause might be doomed with failure and he might die.
The man in front of her was not the proud Gamemaker she remembered seeing at her Victory dinner. In front of her was a broken man on the verge of death and losing everything he had worked for. She watched as he carried on coughing violently.
"Can you ask the nurses for anything?" Sera commented quietly as Plutarch answered her question. "Will the nurses tell…him about your requests?"
"No. Most of them are my people. Why?"
She ignored his question and carried on. "Ask for activated charcoal and some sweet wine, if you can. Mix it and drink it. It should fix what's wrong with you, if not well, I'll see you at your funeral." The corners of his lips turned up. "This doesn't mean that I will work for you."
"I want you to work with me to rec—"
She cut him off immediately. "I don't want to know what you want. I'm doing this because I'm tired of people dying around me, just this once. I'll save someone…without pretending to."
He seemed to accept her reasoning and backed down. "You know, I'll still be replaced and maybe he'll kill me with a different method. Maybe it'll be a public humiliation and then a private execution like Consul Talcott—a very good man, one of my finest men. It's a shame what happened to him and his family."
His words were clearly meant to make her waiver in her stance and he almost succeeded if only she didn't remember her family. She still had them to worry about and they weren't her own anymore, they were Huxley's. She couldn't make choices which would affect him without letting him know and she didn't want to let him know about this.
Suddenly it was all starting to make sense. Finnick's sudden change in attitude after their first meeting, she suspected he truly was apologetic for his behavior but Plutarch somehow took advantage of his need for a personal relationship, used it to test her walls. Even those mysterious soldiers clad in black, she suspected them to be rebels, people who were like Plutarch. Everything made sense now.
"Do you honestly believe that you and everyone that's working for you—will the attempts to change succeed?"
"I know it will, just need a few more things and more people to prepare and—"
She didn't believe in his cause. Again, she had nothing to gain from it. "Then trade your place with the other 'bishop'—whoever that may be, make him the traitor and show him that you were framed by the other 'bishop'. I'll make it seem like you were framed as well—maybe it'll work, maybe it won't."
"You've met him. The other 'bishop'."
"I have?" She tried to think back to the Victory Dinner but nothing came to her mind. She remembered meeting a lot of Gamemakers, actors, directors, cameramen and women along with so many Capitol socialites. It was hard to remember them. "It doesn't matter. I was just curious but I do sincerely hope you succeed."
"You really don't want to join us?"
"I have nothing to gain."
"What about knowledge?" She paused in her steps. Knowledge? It was a strange thing for him to bring up. "Knowledge of how your parents really died and how your aunt is dying."
"She's sick." Was all Sera said in response.
Truth was, she wanted to know the cause behind the sudden deaths of her parents, her uncle and the sickness of her aunt. She wanted to know, and how to help her but if it meant joining hands with the rebellion and potentially getting caught, risking the lives of her siblings and her cousin, she couldn't take that risk.
The door opened and the pale blue hair appeared. Her hands were clasped around each other and she looked around discreetly before plastering a smile on her face which unnerved Sera. "Visiting hours are now over. Please come again another day."
"Ah, Nurse Cardea. Could you please bring me some sweet wine and some…activated charcoal please?" Plutarch requested, staring at Sera for any corrections.
Nurse Cardea paused for a moment, mentally noting it down before bobbing her head up and down. "It'll be a little late due to some…circumstances and I'll bring it to you later in the evening." She said as the door opened again Scarus walked in.
"That won't be a problem."
Scarus gave Plutarch a strange greeting before coming to stand in front of Sera. They stared at each other with hardened looks. They didn't like each other. She was starting to think perhaps Scarus and the Redcliff family might not be as well-liked in the Capitol at all. Almost all of her patients were either scared or angered to see Scarus.
"Young Icarus Redcliff—"
"Scarus." Scarus corrected Plutarch. "I go by Scarus."
Plutarch looked at him, eying the stroke of a scar on Scarus face and nodded. He wasn't impressed. "I suppose it makes sense—I see you're following in the footsteps of your grandfather."
"Thank you."
"That wasn't a compliment."
Scarus turned to Sera and showed him the watch on his wrist, effectively ignoring the Head Gamemaker. "She'll see you another time." Was all he said before heading to the door and holding it open for her.
"I hope you will change your mind…" Plutarch breathed out as she was leaving. She wouldn't. She was sure at that moment she wouldn't.
Without another word, Sera followed Scarus through the cold and empty corridors and back to the reception of the clinic where the night shift nurses and doctors were loitering around. The Elite Guards had also changed shifts and now new faces appeared in front of her. She didn't care to remember their faces or names, she wanted to go back quickly and forget about all of this.
"Why did he say that?" Scarus asked as he put the divider up between the driver and passenger seats.
"I refused to play his game."
"What game? Chess." She nodded. It was the only thing he would believe. "You are a beginner, you might find it unentertaining. Were you winning?" He didn't really care if she was. He wanted to know if she was as cunning as he thought she was despite his doubts from the Victory, he still believed her to be more than just a flower as everyone saw her as.
Sera shook her head. "No, actually I was losing. I'm embarrassed to admit that I almost lost my queen if the time didn't run out. My pawns were almost gone too." It was a lie, she was actually neck and neck with Plutarch and both the Gamemaker and her had equal chance of winning.
"Oh." He was disappointed at her answer. "I guess, it was beginner's luck." He muttered thinking about their first meeting about the unforgettable game where he was beaten by a complete beginner. "Did he say anything of…concern?"
She breathed out and looked at Scarus who was surprised she had looked at him. Usually when she recalled her meetings or anytime the two were in a conversation, she didn't look at him. He was even more surprised to see her concerned for the Gamemaker. "He…was delirious but there was one thing that stood out." He leaned in towards her, curious to know more. "He kept on repeating that he is being framed and that someone else—whose name I don't think he mentioned was using him to cover up his actions. I didn't understand any of it but I guess he's innocent?"
"You don't have to understand him."
"No, there's no point understanding someone you don't really lik—I mean…"
Scarus grinned, saying nothing but the look on his face was enough. He didn't like Plutarch either and was happy that someone else didn't like the man. "Go back and get some rest." That was what Sera intended to do anyway.
Instead of dropping her off at the Victoria Building, he stopped the car at the entrance of the training center, getting out first and opening the car door for her. For once, she was grateful for his decision. If she went to the Victoria Building, she'd face Finnick and she was not in the right mind to see him now, especially since she now knew the truth behind his behavior. She just wanted to be left alone.