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May The Odds Be Ever In Your Favor	By : CJ_Wallace Category: G through L > The Hunger Games Trilogy Views: 12259 -:- Recommendations : 0 -:- Currently Reading : 1
Disclaimer: I do not own The Hunger Games Trilogy and make no money off the posting of this story.

Chapter List
- 8
- 9
- 10
Chapter Ten
We wake in the morning to shouts and hard knocks on the door. I scramble for clothing, but Jet climbs out of bed and unlocks the door. Aollie and Sid burst through the doors, already angry.
"This is not acceptable tribute behavior! Sneaking about, empty beds, locked doors! Young man, put some pants on!"
I slip on the thin underdress quickly, face red and pull on my pants before I stand, grabbing the rest of my clothes. I'm stopped by Sid's disappointed glare, but I toss my head and walk out defiantly. I was shamed, but I was caught, nothing I can do. I hear the murmur of low voices as I rush into my room where my Avox was waiting.
I looked at her, angry, wondering if she was the one that had alerted them, and when she looked back at me, I no longer cared. I throw my clothes at her, ripping off my pants and torn underdress, screaming at her, stark naked, to get out.
Turning my back on her, I rush to the shower to clean myself. The hot water feels good on my skin and I press a button for a full body scrub, the peach scent filling my nose and drowning out the memories of last night. I screwed up, I made bad decisions, but I was beginning to doubt my survival in the Arena anyway. I would take my punishment, I would take the admonishing of Sid, Jade and Aollie if it meant we could drop it.
I wash my hair quickly and after I'm dried, I let the machine dry, detangle and brush my hair, coming out looking like brushed ruby. There's clothes waiting for me, and an angry looking Jade standing in front of the door, arms crossed.
She says nothing, but the silence was punishment enough as she watches every movement of me dressing.
When I tug the tight black dress into place, I turn and pull my hair out of the way. I put on the heels that are on the floor and take a few test steps. "Can you zip me up?" I ask quietly, giving her my back.
She moves and steps up; grasping my arm as she slowly drags the zipper up. "Your actions have given me the pleasure of being your first instructor. I'll take you and make you into a lady."
"I think it's too late for that, Jade," I whisper sadly, tossing my head so my hair would fall into place. "As long as we can leave it at that, I'll do anything you want me to."
"Stand up straight, don't slouch," Jade snaps. "Just because you two had a night of fun doesn't mean we're going to go hard on you, nor are we going to be easy. You two have to set a certain standards, and sneaking around like this is disgraceful."
I do the unthinkable and grab her hand. "It's my fault," I exclaim. "I didn't want to die... well, I didn't want to die a virgin."
Her face twists and she looks away, sighing. "We're willing to overlook it this time if you swear it'll never happen again."
"I swear," I say immediately, meaning it. I would never fall for Jet's traps again.
Jade had me walk around in the heels, which I dislike, but I do everything without complaint. I'm competent, used to wearing heels for various occasions I would attend with Chise and her family sometimes. Jade instructs me how to hold myself and walk at the same time, but when I'm not getting it, she breaks down and finds a book to put on my head. "Glide," she says. "Walk tall and float! Don't let the book fall from your head!"
I try to listen, but every few steps, my chin lowers and the book falls off. I sigh and tuck my head, shaking it. "I just can't manage to keep my head up."
Jade tuts, then taps my chin hard. "Keep your head up kiddo, it's not the first time someone has fooled around, it won't be the last. Keep on your toes, use your heels if you have to. Think of it as a dance." Her eyes twinkled and I knew she had heard of my training with Sid.
I take a deep breath, kneel carefully and pick up the book, standing and putting it back on my head. I keep my chin level, and take a few steps, slowly turning my head as I lightly walk in a circle, feeling the movement of the book and carefully trying to predict which direction to move in.
When I'm able to walk in a full circle with confidence, Jade tells me to sit in the chair. She tells me it's acceptable to cross my ankles and tuck them under me if I must, but at all times keep my legs closed. I keep my mouth shut as I stand and readjust myself, sitting tall and keeping my chin up, though I had a hard look in my concentration.
"Loosen up, Chise," Jade says quietly, twirling her short spiky green hair. "You're doing well, and already move well, I just wanted to get rid of some of your doubt. You and Jet, you hold yourselves up. You have a certain resilience, wanting to keep everyone at bay. Everyone except each other, apparently. I want to know for certain you remember that you cannot keep each other."
"I don't plan to keep him," I say, leaning back and mimicking Jewel's thoughtful pose. "I don't know if we'll meet each other in the Arena, but I know he plans to leave. He's told me as much, and he'll stick to that plan. I'm staying with the Pack and working there."
Jade nods and leans forward. "And you, Chise, don't you feel anything about last night?"
I think about it for a moment, then shake my head slowly. "It was stupid desperation. We both needed someone to hold, and it got out of hand."
"Jet actually cares for you Chise. He's trying not to, but sometimes telling yourself something isn't enough. He's willing to die for you."
I wring my hands, and look up at her. "You just don't understand!" I insist. "The girl I saved back in District One. She's sweet on Jet." The lie falls from my lips, and I'm so distraught, it sounds convincing. "She came to see me, and made me swear I'll spare Jet and let him come home." I stare at the ring on my hand. It glitters at me, and looks inky black in the dim lights. "She's my best friend..." I choke out. "She's my best friend and she wants him to come home!"
Jade's lips split into a smile and she points at me. "Good! Go with that. It's brilliant! When you're doing your interview, you tell the Capitol this story! They'll love it."
I stare at her in shock, then glare at her. It was almost true enough, and I was a little hurt. "I don't-"
"Look, Chise," Jade says softly, holding up a hand. "It doesn't matter what you say to the Capitol, as long as it's a good story. Real or not real; as long as it's colorful, they will watch it. Also, we are spreading the story you got caught in bed together."
"What?!" I exclaim, lurching forward, untangling my legs quickly.
"You couldn't expect that to stay quiet. It'll get you sponsors, it'll get you stupid fans, it'll get bets through the roof on who will kill who!" Jade says, unflinchingly watching me struggle. "And you needed some punishment. The other tributes may not know, yet, but it is in the rumor mill and you will be asked about it in your interview. You can affirm or deny, it doesn't matter; the rumor will only be rumor."
"I admit when I do something wrong," I say fiercely. "I'll find a way to work with it, and I have time to figure it out. Leave that to me."
Jade shrugs and stands. "Then we're done here. You're competent enough to answer questions brilliantly. I know you can be sweet, sexy, intelligent, proper, insightful, and considerate. You don't need coaching to manipulate the Capitol, you're already so good."
I catch her meaning as she smiles at me.
"However, you two will be confined to your rooms today. I'll be outside, if you need something knock on the door and I'll have it sent to you." She hesitates before taking my hand, looking at my ring. "She must love you very much," she murmurs, admiring the work.
"You don't understand what you're talking about," I growl, and I mean it. Chiara would forgive me if I made it back. She'd be so happy to see me again she wouldn't care. The thought sickens me and I hang my head and jerk my arm away from the woman.
I need to find a way to turn this rumor to my advantage. I could just admit to the whole thing. I think about that for a good hour, already having dismissed denying it. It occurs to me I could tell a half-truth and tell them how Jet had forced himself on me. I shudder and shake my head. No... I had the chance to say no and I didn't. In the back of my mind, a soft voice tries to scream at me, but is covered over by other stupid notions.
I am vomiting into the toilet when I hear it clearly. I wipe my mouth, instantly refreshed and focused. I walk to the sink and rinsed my mouth, then cup my hand in the cool water to take a long drink. "There's a third option," I exclaim, laughing loudly. I pace in the heels, finding the perfect strut as I plot.
It had slipped my mind in my confusion, but my mind is back in the game now. I didn't have to discuss the rumor. Jade said I could confirm or deny and it wouldn't matter. So I decide to not to acknowledge it at all. It was real, it was false, a myth, or an oh-so-painful truth... I throw myself on my bed and curl into a tiny ball.
I accept the solitude, embrace it, wrap it around me like a blanket and sleep.
I wake hours later when Sid steps into my room. I'm still lying how I had fell and I'm very stiff, and very sore, but I hide my wince as I stand and walk around the edge of the bed to sit in one of the armchairs. "Please, sit," I say, offering him a seat.
He sets down a tray with tea in round mugs and more in a teapot on a cloth. It must still be hot. I take the offered cup with a slight bow of my head and a soft thanks. I sniff it and smile. "Peppermint?" I ask.
He nods. "It was your father's favorite."
I chuckle and nod, instantly sitting on the porch of our house in the Victor's Village, snow on the ground, sitting and listening to the trees on the porch. I take a sip and close my eyes, remembering the smell of the ice in the air and the sound of the cracking wood. "I used to talk with my father, and he would tell me of his time in the Games... He told me everything his mentor told him, taught me the important things to remember, taught me the rules to live by..."
"That man was probably the most adaptable hunter I've ever taught," Sid agrees, drinking his own tea.
I smile and look into my tea. "I knew as soon as you told us rule one."
"Trust no one, Chise" Sid insists. "Not me, not Jade, not Jet. We will let you down and betray you. Jade and I may give you gifts in the Arena, but we won't shower them on you. If you can get it yourself, we'll give you nothing. It may not be what you want, but always what you need."
I absorb this in the silence that follows. I finish my tea and pour myself more. "Do you want more, Master Obsidian?" I ask, holding the teapot delicately.
He holds his cup out and watches me pour the tea, staring at my hands, and wrists in particular. He smiles and tips his cup to me before he takes a sip. "You pour tea like your mother. Soft and gentle."
"She spent many hours making sure I knew how to prepare and pour tea for ceremonies," I say happily, remembering every painstaking minute and every failure. "Mother grew worse as I grew older, and I understood her fears. I tried to please her, but in the end, I was blind to their true intentions. They were strong parents, brave to have a child. In the end... I think it shamed them. I think they truly believed in the old ways and killed themselves to get back the honor that was stolen from them."
Sid is quiet for a long time, gazing at me. "Did you volunteer to get their honor back as well?"
"I think that thought crossed my mind a time or two, but I want to think I volunteered to bring honor to District One."
"Too much, it sounds like you're trying to placate them. Try for something brasher, but humble."
"I volunteered because I wanted a chance to show everyone I'm not worthless," I say, adding a biting tone. "If I had known the trouble it would have been, I would have moved into that little girl's house and pretended to be the daughter they lost."
Sid frowns, but I can tell he likes it. "So you're going with this story then? That Chiara is in love with Jet, he likes you, and you... what about you?"
"Chiara has told me on many occasions that she likes him, and even dragged me around town to run into him. I was always left off to the side to wait for her. I talked with his younger brother Emery, but I never met his sister Ruby. I hear she's in constant training; she'll be volunteering next year most likely."
"Likely, but if that's the case, and she really is your best friend, then why did you have sex with the man she loves?" Sid asks bluntly.
I know it's a trap and I shake my head. "Who says we had sex last night?" I ask.
"You were caught in his bed, naked. He answered the door without a stitch of clothing on!" Sid exclaims, showing a hint of his honest displeasure.
"I made him sleep on the floor," I say, remembering Jet throwing the blanket on the floor before we went to sleep. "As for what I sleep in, it's none of anyone's business."
"Clever, but we both know that's not true, Chise."
I can't tell if he's talking to me as himself or the Capitol anymore. I'm perturbed about it, but I hold my head high and smile. "You can say what you want, but the funny thing is, I don't care anymore. If I slept with him, so what? I may be dead in a couple days! I had one last night of reckless abandonment, and honestly, when he held my throat, I honestly hoped he'd snap my neck and end it. I knew he wouldn't, not yet, but there was a dark glimmer of hope."
"Do you want to die?" Sid asks, and I can tell he's back to business.
"No one wants to die, not really. With the mentality that I fight for more than myself, I find a certain peace in dying for a noble reason, and that's the honest truth Sid," I say, and I say it with a brilliant smile. "I have a love for the Hunger Games. It is the only thing I've ever looked forward to."
"They'll certainly like to hear that. Go for the pride, honor, and valor. They'll be eating out of your hand, little flower."
"I have thorns," I remind him. I enjoy the sound of his laughter. "I think that the flowery dresses Sug has designed for me make me look soft and make people forget I'm a cold-hearted beast underneath. I want to go home, Sid."
"To that girl?"
I huff and look away. "I'd rather die than face her after this whole mess. I already know I'm going to have to do some really horrible things if I want to make it out."
"You'll have no choice," he said setting his empty cup on the tray. When I'm finished with my tea, he stands and takes the tray with him. I'm left with the instant menu, but I'm not hungry. The day is ending and I can feel the press of tomorrow on me like a heavy weight.
One day for the rumor that the tributes are from District One were caught naked in a room together. I hoped they didn't have secret cameras in our rooms, but a quick sweep revealed nothing. Even if they could prove it, I didn't have to talk about it. Even if Jet openly admits what we did, I would stay silent.
I try to imagine what Sug would clothe me in now, and what Jet would be forced to endure. I contemplated sitting naked in front of all of Panem. Probably as Jewel had felt during the parade. Of course, I had longer hair... I would hope that Sug wasn't that cruel, but the possibility was there.
I also hoped Jet wouldn't be that cruel. If someone was going to tell Chiara the truth, it would have to come from me, to her face. I couldn't have her see me admit it over the broadcasts. It'd shame her.
I manage to unzip the dress and tug it off, having kicked off my heels during my sleep. I leave them scattered and crawl under the blankets. I watch the ceiling as I think of how this will affect my relationships with the other tributes. They're likely to believe it, especially when I side step the questions. Maybe I can avoid the topic for three minutes, and the question will be shifted to Jet. That seemed likely, and the story that was almost true would shock the question away, or into the spotlight. I moan and squeeze my eyes shut until sleep takes me.
I'm summoned in the morning by my prep team who hastily gets me out of bed and into the shower. They choose the settings, but I hear them twittering to each other excitedly. The overwhelming smell of sakura blossoms is around me as I scrub with a brush. My hair is washed and conditioned, but the smell never left. By time I am dried and my hair dry, I knew I smelled of nothing else; I am just so desensitized, the smell seemed to vanish.
"Sug has the most beautiful gown for you," Kaiza tells me as she pats down my whole body with silvery-white powder until my skin is pale and shimmery. "We've seen it. Made especially for you."
Reeza is doing my hair, braiding parts, twisting others, winding and intertwining some of it to form a bun that she secures with a silver kanzashi with beads of jade and jet dripping down and swaying when I turn my head.
"Am I to be a flower again?" I ask, watching Csheza paint my nails a pale pink.
She giggles and puts a finger to her lips. "We won't spoil the surprise for you."
I could take a lesson from these three on talking about something, but saying nothing. I sit patiently as they paint my face, transforming me. When I see myself in the mirror, I don't know the girl staring back at me. Her face is white and painted over with liquid black paint that accents her eyes, making them look sharp and severe. Her lids are soft pink, and her lips painted with a glossy rose glimmer, but it is the mole darkened with paint beneath my left eye that assures me that I'm gazing at myself.
Not only is my face fainted white, but the back of my neck as well. "Tell me... what has Sug planned?"
"Only the most extraordinary gown you have ever seen, Love!" Sug exclaims, coming in with his arms full of fabric, boxes, and bags of smaller boxes. "We must do this quickly, we haven't much time. I approve of that hair ornament, Reeza. Wherever did you find it?"
"It was given to me by her mentor, and is to be returned to him at the end of the night," Reeza says, shivering. "He says she'll wear it or wear nothing. He was so scary, Sug! I couldn’t say no and ruin all your hard work!"
Sug frowns, but drops his parcels into the armchairs. "Alright beauty, let's dress you up."
If I had thought the last dress was over the top, I had underestimated Sug drastically. The dress he has designed for me is extravagant, and he's wasted no expense. I had never worn silken stockings before and Csheza helps me into them, fixing them to my thighs with black lace garters, each with a single blue rose on them. I have a body slip that just covers the garters, which is covered over by a corset. It was like my bodice, but it went under my clothes and squeezed me even tighter.
I am holding the chair, trying to keep the room from spinning when Sug brings his vision for me into view. It's a flood of the palest pink, a gorgeous robe designed around the robes my ancestors wore, only altered. I touch it gently, looking up, begging him to let me take it.
He hands it over and watches as I walk away with it towards the mirror.
The robe feels light in my hands, and in a moment I'm remembering a happier time. I grip the robe and swirl it around me, sliding my arms in the wide sleeves easily and wrapping it expertly around myself, tying it in place. The skirt billows around me like petals and I enjoy the freedom rather than the rigid tube a kimono usually forced. The way the robe is sewn, I can tell it's less bulky as well. However, the collar is familiar, and I understand why my neck is painted now.
"Oh Sug..."
"Don't thank me yet, sweetness," he says, motioning me back.
The obi is emerald green, and unadorned, carefully tied and tucked. When I'm able to step away I gush over it until Sug turns dark and shushes me, ordering Kaiza to bring a rope of jade beads that they wrap around my throat in loops.
I find a smooth silver band on my right middle finger, tiny silver rings on a few of my toes, cuffs of thin silver that wrap around my ears. By time they finish, I'm close to fainting and they look tired.
Turning to the mirror finally, I smile shaking my head. "Sug... There is no finer stylist in Panem. Silvya has right to be jealous, he's just not talented enough." I reach up and tuck a bit of hair back in place, staring at my reflection. It wasn't entirely traditional, but it was close. I wasn't the traditional type anyway. Besides, Sug had tried so hard to please me and he had succeeded, capturing the essence of the flower my mother loved so much.
I stride lightly to the mirror, then slow and shorten my steps, gliding on the balls of my feet, tiptoeing over. "No shoes, Sug?" I ask, looking at him in the mirror. "Truly?"
"Just this once doll," he says with a laugh. "If you win, you should clothe yourself in nothing but cashmere for the rest of your life. You look so beautiful soft!"
I shake my head, my hand brushing the skirt back and sinking to my knees gently, sitting as my mother had taught me as a child. I fold my feet under me, sitting on them, hands in my lap. "No," I say firmly, looking at the softness of the skirt, covered by thousands of pink blossoms. "If I win this year, I'll clothe myself in flowers just to honor you." It's a moment before I rise fluidly and turn to my team. "I hope they ask about my dresses, Sug. You've poured your soul into them!"
"You look divine, deary," Sug insists. "Let's get you out there."
I tuck my hands in my sleeves and follow him obediently, walking in short steady steps, keeping my chin high. I hear my mother's voice in my head, instructing me in etiquette and how to behave properly. I smile and lower my eyes, tucking my chin slightly. Yes mother, I know.
Jet is standing at the elevator with his team and Silvya. His eyes glide over me and I can tell he's remembering how I look in absolutely nothing, but he likes the dress. He's dressed formally, and much flashier than I'd seen Silvya ever dress him. He's wearing a shirt not unlike the one he'd worn to dinner on the train. It's pure white and the chest is laced up, but the sleeves are just as loose, and just as lacy at the wrist. Over the shirt is an extraordinarily sleek black vest with silver trim. He wears the same tight pants as I'd seen on Rye, though his boots are much nicer. He has a silver wreath on his head, and shifts it every so often.
He takes my left hand, despite Silvya's protests and words about promises to keep us apart, and kisses my fingers. "You look wonderful, Nara. Almost harmless."
"Silvya did spectacularly, I was almost fooled," I respond, taking my hand back and touching his vest. "Though, no matter how hard you try, dressing up a wolf doesn't make him human. When he opens his mouth and speaks, his sharp teeth give him away."
He bit at me as the elevator opened, grinning.
We're kept apart during the short ride, and we're the first of the tributes to arrive. After a while, more come, and we're greeted with no more than looks. Cherry catches sight of me and her eyes light up, her smile telling me she likes my dress.
When we're all gathered, they take us outside to sit on the stage that's been set up for us. We sit behind a pair of chairs that are set up for Ceaser Flickerman and the tribute he's interviewing. Girls go first, so I take the first seat with Jet at my side. The City Circle is ablaze with lights and it's bright, but I smile as I gaze about at the flood of people that press close just to watch. Stylists and their teams are in an elevated box, and I wave to Sug as he takes his seat and the Gamemakers enter into the balcony reserved for them.
It isn't long before we're filming and we’re joined by our host in his easily recognizable suit. I had to agree with Sid, maroon isn't his color. When I am called, I rise slowly and walk towards him, hiding my excitement.
I take his hand and he shows me off to the crowd. They're pleased with my dress and I bow to them, and again to Flickerman before we take our seats. The interview lasts three minutes, my allotted time, but so much happens it feels a lot longer. The lights are blinding and my cheeks hurts from so much smiling, but I try to play to the crowd.
"Well, Chise Nara..." Ceaser Flickerman says, looking me over. "So much to talk about and not enough time. Of course, you look as beautiful as you did during your parade!"
I laugh. "It's all thanks to my stylist, Sug. He has more talent in his little finger than any stylist I've ever seen." The crowd cheers at that, but I can see the discontent in the stands as the stylists are insulted, but Sug beams at me and nods. "He even let me go barefoot!" I exclaim, lifting the pink silk and showing off my toes, much to the crowd's pleasure.
Flickerman laughs and quickly steers the conversation to the more important topics. "There have been rumors floating around lately, that you're the daughter of Hiroshi Nara, the 19th Hunger Games victor, and Hana Yuki, the 23rd Hunger Games victor?" Flickerman's eyes glittered. It was what he started with, but not what he wanted to talk about. It was something to unnerve me.
I, however, had seen the worst of their deaths and had spent the time since processing it. The mention of them made me proud, every time. They were still remembered, they were still loved, they were still honored. These thoughts make me smile and I nod slightly. "They were my parents, yes. Sadly, they passed on my Twelfth birthday."
"Oh, that's so awful! On your first Reaping?" Flickerman continues, sympathetically putting a hand on my arm.
"Don't be sad!" I exclaim, looking worried for the cameras. "They were good people who raised me well, taught me how to be a proper woman, and told me of the Hunger Games. I forced my parents to tell me stories like a child might ask for a fariytale!”
"You were fascinated with the Hunger Games then, even at a young age?"
I chuckle and look out at the crowd. "Who wouldn't be?" I ask, incredulously. After the laughter died away, I look to Flickerman. "I think it was more of an obsession as a child. I saw my first Hunger Games ten years ago," I reveal, knowing this would interest Jade. "I watched religiously, every year, discussing strategy with my father... I overheard him telling my mother once I was 'married to the Games'. He was right, of course, I have been intent on entering for a few years now."
"Is that so?!" Flickerman exclaims, laughing with the Capitol as I sit back and drink it in.
"Very much so. I've dreamed about this my whole life... It's a dream come true. And Ceaser, I do plan on winning this year."
"Oh?" Flickerman asks, looking overly surprised for the cameras. "Well with that 10, it's hard to disagree with you. You had the highest score of all the tributes, did you expect that?"
This I laugh at, holding my torso and gasping as I feel the life squeezed out of me by my corset. "No!" I exclaim when I can breathe again. "I thought the boys would far outscore me, but I guess the Gamemakers liked what I showed them." I shoot a grin at the camera, knowing I couldn't tell them a single detail.
"I have heard from certain people that you're always armed," Flickerman jokes.
"Do they say that?" I ask, looking intrigued and leaning towards him. "Do you think I'm armed right now?" Quickly I think of what I could have on me, everything is soft, feathery, silk. I could potentially choke someone with my necklace, but I would have to fight to get it off, it was too slow. Think, think, think...
Flickerman is examining me, then looked to the crowd to see what they thought, eyebrow raised.
I looked with him, trying to appear mysterious. I saw a lock of hair out of the corner of my eye that had fallen and fluttered as my head turned. My hair was up, not billowing about my shoulders like it usually was. It was pinned up with the kanzashi Sid had given Reeza. I was always armed. I had my mind, I had my body, and sometimes I had small gifts.
"There's no way you've hidden anything on your person, or under that fluffy skirt of yours, is there?" Flickerman asked, acting nervous.
I laugh and shake my head, quickly brushing aside the idea of revealing the weapon I had found. This was a test, and I had caught on. Graciously, I compliment my fellow tributes. "Every tribute up here has a weapon," I say seriously. "We're all ferocious beasts, except we have intelligent minds. The mind is a weapon that must never dull, lest we fall to savagery."
Flickerman likes this and repeats it. "That is outstanding. Now, at your Reaping, you volunteered for a girl I hear is quite close to you. Care to tell us about her?"
I shrug, as if she's nothing special. "She's my best friend, and I know I said she's no one in District One, but I knew if I had said she was the mayor's daughter, she would have stolen my spotlight..." I pause for everyone to laugh and clap. "Truth is, she's got her eye on Jet, my tribute partner." Of course, there was murmurs of discontent, excitement and interest, which we let roll over the crowd in waves. I press on, unable to let this story slip away. "It seems she was the unlucky one at the Reaping. Her best friend and the boy she loves."
"Did she tell you that when she visited you?"
I frown, leaning forward. "She asked me..." I hesitate, then appear to resolve myself. "She told me to let Jet come back. She made me swear a vow that I wouldn't kill him."
There was a soft cry from the crowd. They couldn't believe that someone would betray their friend for a man, but when Jet came forward, they'd understand. Unfortunately, I know I still had a little time. A minute, no more. I timed it softly it my head in counts of ten, keeping track on the fingers of my right hand that were hidden in my sleeves. Three...five...six…
"Really?" Ceaser asked, his eyebrows high and eyes wide. "We were wondering about your ring... it seemed appear at the station."
"She told me to take it, to remind me of my vow," I say, waving my left hand and holding it up for the crowd to see. "I suppose she thinks that the sight of it would still my hand in the heat of battle." More laughs.
"So these rumors surrounding you and Jet... they're pure fiction? We heard you were caught in his bed behind a locked door, naked."
I throw my head back laughing and glance over my shoulder to Jet, who is staring at me with interest. Cairn looks shocked, and her face turns red as she glances up at Jet, her jaw set angrily. "Well, you have to admit, he is good-looking. However, my mother always told me rumors were born on the wings of crows and the lips of snakes. I wouldn't go around trusting them. I will say-" I was about to continue, but the buzzer went off, signaling the end of my time. I had been off by eighteen seconds. I wink at Ceaser, standing, and say clearly "Well, I guess we'll never know."
I return to my seat, passing Jet on his way to the chair. I brush the hand he reaches out an inch to graze my gown, then I sit, enjoying the rest of the show.
Jet is brilliant, and looks sexy as he sits comfortably in the chair, his charming smile winning him cheers and kisses thrown to him by girls in the crowd. He is quickly directed towards the information that the mayor's daughter of District One had admitted to being in love with him. He's smiling and there's nothing outside of his mouth, his glittering eyes and all those luscious curls.
I'm transfixed as I watch on a screen the events I can only see for the back. I have found a comfortable way to lounge in the chair without the corset squeezing me more than it already was, but still look relaxed.
"Well, it's something to look forward to when I return home," he jokes. "I never would have guessed, they seemed so close."
I growl softly, but don't drop my mild smile.
Jet continues the banter with Flickerman, graciously complimenting the Capitol in both our names, telling them how impressed we have been. He even goes as far as saying we wished we could live here, though it wasn't a bad idea and I nodded enthusiastically for the cameras. I leaned over my armchair and blocked my mouth from the camera and mouthing to Cairn. Are we in? I received a stern look as she rolls her eyes. It's good for the audience, and no one knows what I said, but it shows the tension between us.
When asked about the rumor, Jet grins. "I can see how that could have been mistaken," he says easily. "She is a beauty, but the silly thing is afraid of the dark! Granted, the rooms are quite dark. She just stayed the night, and being the chivalrous man I am, I let her my take the bed."
"We were told you were both unclothed when your escort and mentor found you," Flickerman presses.
"I sleep naked, that's no secret!" Jet says firmly, a touch of mischievousness. "My sister found that out when she was ten and my mother told her to get my lazy ass out of bed. What Nara does when she sleeps, I have no clue. I don't peek. As for this rumor... People will say anything to get attention, and personally, I think it's low and shameful."
His time ends shortly after and Cairn is up. Outshined by us, and a miserable excuse for a dress, she's left with little to talk about, and so focuses on her family. She's proud, of course, and when asked by Flickerman what she plans on doing after she wins the Hunger Games, she looks straight into the camera and announces she plans on becoming a Peacekeeper. The crowd loves it and cheers for her, and she blows them kisses so sweetly. I knew the face behind that mask, she wouldn't live long enough to dream of glory. Not if I had a choice in the matter. And I did.
Brock speaks of his shop back home where he sculpts and carves statues from marble. He works in the quarry, which is where he got his strong body. When Flickerman asks him to flex, he stands, shrugs off the short grey robe and shows off his impressive chest, abs, and arms. Every line of that man's body was visible under his skin tight shorts, and I gasped and looked away, blushing.
Jet laughs and raised his fist from his seat, nudging me. "Way to look like a virgin," he whispers, leaning over and blocking his mouth from the cameras.
He laughs again and pulls away as I shake and bow my head, blocking the sight with my hand. As I stare at my fingers, I notice this is how Jewel had stood in her chariot and quickly drop my hand as Brock tugs on his robe and looks down the line of tributes. I can tell he hadn't wanted to do it, but obliged anyway, and he hopes it will intimidate us. Somehow, I'm not afraid of him anymore.
Cairn caught my eye as Brock took his seat and nodded, which I answered by relaxing in my chair, crossing my legs and staring at the crowd lazily. We were in, and Cairn was plotting to murder us. Too bad I was ten steps ahead of her. Not so much some of the other players it seemed, but Cairn was as dumb as a pile of rocks in a field no one lived in.
Switch was next and she was pretty, but not stunning. However, she had a certain intelligence to her and spoke well. Tessla was entertaining with his innocence, but shy and hides behind his long hair. He's asked about his stay in the Capitol and he just opens up, talking about how much food he was able to eat, how much he had learned since coming here and saying all the tributes were really nice.
I raise my eyebrow at that and chuckle. I felt like a queen on her throne, the crowd my subjects, and the tribute in the chair, my fool. This one was cute, but I knew if he did live past the first day, he was going to be extremely useless. I hoped his death was clean.
Amia was a wonder in her stunning blue dress, and she appears to be what I imagine the sea to look like. She chats animatedly with Flickerman about what she misses about home. She agrees that this year's Hunger Games are going to be interesting and says she's impressed so many tributes have talent. Ray talks about his times fishing, interesting things he had found. He claims the most valuable thing he ever found was a tiny clam he brought home one day to give his mother, and when she opened it up that night, there was a large black pearl staring up at her.
I knew pearls were found in oysters; before the Fallout my family had fished the seas, or so my father told me many times. I had no idea that clams could make pearls as well, but somehow it makes sense, as the two are similar. I could see Ray sitting on a beach somewhere, peaceful and fixing his net maybe. It was unfortunate he was here... If I was to go home, he'd never see that beach again. I wondered, as he returned to his seat, eyes downcast, if he was thinking that very thing.
Jewel is dressed simply in a short electric-blue dress with a white sash, and with her make-up done, she’s quite pretty. She answers her questions tersely, sticks to the point and refuses to answer questions she doesn't feel are relevant. When asked about her unusually high score, she smiles and the plain face on the screen shifts to cute for just a moment. "I've been underestimated my whole life," she says with a hint of resentment. "I used to think no one saw any potential in me, but yesterday I got the confirmation I needed. I poured my heart and soul into my presentation, and the Gamemakers recognized my skill. I want to say 'thank you' for that."
I smile, but hide it behind my fingers as I rest my chin on my hand as I lounge and watch the Gamekeepers nodding and smiling, waving to her and the cameras. I feel a small extra pound in my chest as I get her meaning. I am glad she had done well, as I knew she would. She was focused, quiet, determined... that alone mixed with her various talents and intelligence made her quite a deadly weapon. One of the best caliber, and I am relieved she'd be helping instead of fighting me.
Daniel, however, is likable and they chat casually about his training, telling a longish story about a wrestling match he almost won, which takes up most of his time.
Charon is next, and I expect her to stay silent, as I had never heard her speak. Thinking on that, I realize I have never even seen her speaking to anyone. Her voice is low and hesitating, but she sits up tall in her little black dress and answers Flickerman's questions straightforwardly. He asks her what makes her think she's a good contender and for the first time she looks confident. "I'm good at hiding and I'm fast. I'm pretty sure I could hide from this lot the entire game!"
I can hear the murmurs throughout the line. The boys seem to be more angry than the girls, but a few of us watched her walk back to her seat, seething. I sat up in my seat to get a better look as she sat in her chair, staring at the floor silently. She didn't say much, but when she did, she had a way of making people hate her. My fists are clenched on the armchair, not even hiding the obvious anger I feel.
Aken is talking, but I can't concentrate as I slowly sit back and lounge again. I know Charon is a danger then. Anyone who can hide is a danger. If she was as patient as she appeared, she could wait the entire game and stab the would-be victor in the back. That wasn't a good end, it wasn't a battle to be remembered, it wasn't an honorable finale! It was cowardice masked by cunning. Sure, Charon might kill a few people throughout the games, but they would be weak, craven deaths.
Jet looks over and sees me seething, lips puckered as I chew on my cheek, finger tapping on the arm absently, but in a rhythm. Tap-tap tap-tap, tap-tap tap-tap, tap-tap tap-tap, tap-tap tap-tap... He reaches over and taps my wrist in the same pattern, drawing my attention to the strange action and I look at him. "Cheer up!" he says, then smiles at me.
I shake my head, but can't help but smile back and look to the screens where Flickerman is greeting Yew, who wears a dress that makes her resemble a birch tree. She distracts Flickerman with her descriptions of the forest she lives in, the trees she helps chop down. She tells him she doesn't sleep much because of her work, and it's obvious she has an advantage over many of us. Many, but not all I see, and certainly not me.
Cypress is clothed in brown and is unimpressive as he sits in the chair and draws up one leg to hold. He answers the questions dully, often mumbling and pushing up his specs. I wonder if Yew had told him not to speak to anyone, or if he really didn't know what to say. When his time is up, he shuffles back to his seat and looks at Yew who gives him a disgruntled look, but nods.
I shake my head and watch Florence stand from her seat. I would never figure out the two from District Seven, and I accepted it. I marked them as targets, as I had done with some others, and tried to listen to Florence talk about her mother's dress shop. She's not very threatening, and she's small; I can't imagine how a girl who had only received a three could still be so calm. Maybe she hadn't accepted her fate yet... or, more probable, she had.
Hodden speaks with a slight accent and takes Flickerman's jibes about his parade costume in stride, saying he had been very cold, but otherwise it wasn't so bad. They trade jokes and stories about clothes in the Capitol and put the crowd in a light mood.
Poppy looks stunning in her purple dress that falls to her knees, showing off toned legs and cute strappy sandals. She's friendly and talks about the various weapons she had trained with, the ones she liked, a few she wished she had trained with more. She was going for dangerous, or maybe well-prepared. She's very likeable, which makes that strange because likable and dangerous was a weapon of its own. Kind of like the friend who would give you a high five after your first kill, and then stab you in the belly, asking if you're okay as you bleed out. It made me shudder.
Rye is just as cheery and talks about the grain fields. He makes them sound peaceful and ideal, but I know it's a lie. I know what it takes to farm fields, and it was hard work, back-breaking work. I wouldn't be surprised he got that body plowing fields, reaping, and various other tasks, but he doesn't talk about what he does. I know he's nimble and light-fingered, and untrustworthy. That's all I need to know.
Sierra hasn't improved much, and her sullen and brusque answers frustrate Flickerman as he tries to get her to show an emotion besides annoyance. I find amusement in him trying to find things she's willing to talk about. She is almost silent on her family, her work, her district, she refused to talk about the Capitol. She didn't seem to want to talk about anything.
Bos is just as intimidating to everyone else as I find him. He's built like Brock, and a few inches taller, but there's no kindness to him. He's made for killing. Coincidentally, I had been right about his job. He worked in the slaughterhouses and killed the bigger animals with a large hammer, or slitting throats. He was desensitized to the crunch of bone, the splatter of blood, and the howls and screams of the dying.
Cherry waits until Bos is sitting to spring from her chair and dash to the front of the stage. She looks beautiful in her sleeveless red dress that almost coveres the black shorts she wore underneath, her long mane of straightened black hair tied back with a red ribbon. She navigated in her tiny heels like she could trek through the woods in them, and I'm impressed by her grace. They talk about the orchards I had been told about, and Cherry admits that even though she's good at climbing the trees, she doesn't like it very much and would rather stay on the ground. She also thinks she'll be able to find food as she admits to have eaten a great many bugs.
Berry seems reluctant to talk, but when pressured he gives in. He tells them he's only known work his whole life, and this is a nice break. He has four older siblings, which means he eats very little. I can only imagine how his stomach was handling the rich Capitol food.
I lose interest in the tributes from Twelve, having had sat in my uncomfortable dress for far too long. Luckily, the light breeze was giving me enough air to breathe and keeping my hot skin cool. I force myself to pay attention for the last few minutes, and am rewarded with interesting information.
The girl sold flowers in her father's shop, or so Flickerman said. The fact she was born mute and hid behind her blonde hair a lot was entertaining to watch. It gives her a cute and shy look, but I know it won't get her sponsors. Sponsors don't care if you're cute, only if you'll survive. The boy missed his family and promises to fight hard to see them again. His dark hair and olive complexion made him appear older than he was, or maybe it was his dark eyes that held many secrets. He'd get sponsors, and he might live past the first day.
And then we're done, and I'm drowsy and irritable, but I stand for the anthem and look to the sky. Jet walks back to the elevators with me, and steadies me when I grow dizzy. I try and say I'm alright, but before I can protest, he sweeps me up into his arms and carries me in to the Training Center. I hold him as he picks an elevator with Rye, Poppy, and Cherry, setting me down to hit our button.
"Are you alright?" Cherry asks, looking at me with concern and touching my arm. Her hand looked like only days ago it had been a skeleton.
I nod and put a hand to my stomach. "The dress is too tight," I admit. "Sug insists on squeezing the breath from me."
"It's gorgeous though," Cherry breathes. "You look perfect in it Chise, it really suits you."
Our floor is first and I thank her quickly as I follow Jet from the elevator, waving as the doors close. Rye is watching us carefully, but Poppy appears to be bored and is looking at her gold nails.
It isn't long before Sug and Silvya and our prep teams are in the sitting room with us. I take the Zas to my room to change out of the dress. As much as I want to continue wearing it, I want to breathe more. I return all the jewels to them, along with Sid's kanzashi. After my shower and braiding my wet hair loosely, I find a pair of black pajamas like the ones Jet had worn and pull them on before rejoining the crowd in the eating area.
I load up my plate with strange foods and pick at them, uninterested. I don't enter into the conversation and when asked a question, I look up, then return to my thoughts without a word.
Tonight is my last night. Tomorrow we'd fight, and some would die. Not me. I wouldn't let that happen. I sit through the broadcast of the interviews, but I hardly pay attention. I do notice myself on the screen, perched haughtily on my chair like it was a throne, and I think I look grand. I hope the lack of fear scared some of the weaker tributes. Little do they know the fear is setting in now.
It's when Sid asks me for my ring that I really pay attention. "Excuse me?" I ask.
"It needs to be cleared by the review board," he explains. "I'll take care of it and have Sug return it to you before you go into the arena."
I consent, but I make my displeasure obvious as I pull it from my finger.
Bed comes early and I leave the room without a word. I know that early in the morning, they will come to take me away to the horror that awaited all of us. I wanted the time I had to myself to be special. Under the blankets, I say our names slowly, eyes tightly shut, until sleep envelops me.
- 8
- 9
- 10
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May The Odds Be Ever In Your Favor