Chapter Text
As soon as we returned to our floor, the tension in the room rose. Laureen did her best to ease it. “You guys were great, absolutely wonderful. You had much more charisma than District One,” she said, offering us flutes of a gold fizzy drink.
I sniff it while I follow them to the living room, the large screen playing back the opening ceremony. I recognize the smell, some sort of alcohol, not my beloved seltzer. Once we’re all seated, I sip and the burn in my throat seems to bring me back to reality. It calms the leftover anxiety from the chariot ride.
“That’s true,” Enobaria chimes in as she enters the room.
She clicks her glass of champagne into Cato’s helmet as she takes a seat on the chair next to him. He grumbles in annoyance but takes it off and places it in his lap.
Ignasius, Cato’s designer, also grumbles in his seat over the armrest of Enobaria. “Cinna was always going to be a wild card. I just never expected him to barbeque his tributes.”
“You know I hear they’re already giving them nicknames,” Delphine stage-whispers. “The Fire Twins or Fire Girl, something moronic like that.”
Magnus never joins us to watch the games, presumably watching them alone in his room. Once our part begins, I relax a bit more on the soft couch. The gold drink has an odd taste that begins to grow on me. A server hands me another flute as they take away my empty one. Another attendant begins walking over with a tray of small foods while we continue watching. The mood lifts considerably as Ignasius begins making fun of the origami outfits of district seven.
We all start to leave for dinner once the president’s speech begins. Even in the Capitol, even if it’s the president, there’s only so much long-winded speeches people can take. Dinner is served at a large table in an adjacent room. I don’t bother with trying to wait for everyone, I stab my bite of roast beef. It’s thinly sliced and not as satisfying to stab as I would’ve thought. The taste, like all the other food, is immaculate.
One of the attendees from before begins serving red wine to everyone. I accepted it curiously. I’d only tried wine once before at Maisley’s brother’s wedding. Even then, it was only a sip from my father’s glass. I took a sip and tried to let it sit on my tongue like I’ve seen adults do. It’s too tart for my liking and eventually, I swallow.
The table feels quite large with this many people. Cato, Ignasius, Magnus, Enobaria, Delphine, and even Laureen are all chatting and eating the elaborate dinner. While Magnus motions for another glass of wine, he turns to address Cato and me.
“Despite whatever happened at the opening ceremony, the capitol will always lean toward districts one, two, and four in the games. Tomorrow morning is the first training session. There, you’ll get to really see what the other districts are made of.”
Enobaria nods and wipes her mouth before adding on. “You both know that going into the games with a few allies doesn’t hurt your chances in the games. Be on the lookout for competition and friends.”
I scoffed. “I’m not exactly in need of friends. I’d rather look for weaknesses in the competition.”
“I imagine both are considered the same in the arena,” Cato counters.
Both of our mentors nod in unison to that remark.
“Off to bed,” Enobaria says with a gesture of her fork. “We’ll talk more about it in the morning”.
I groan and take the glass of wine with me. I don’t care much for the taste, but the fuzzy feeling it’s given my head is growing on me. Cato eventually catches up to me as we walk to our rooms.
“Ya know you should probably take this with you if you’re going to keep drinking,” he says.
When I stop to look at him, I see he has the pitcher of water in his hands. I can’t help the laughter that escapes me when I notice it. It’s not even that funny and I’m sure in the morning I’ll chalk it up to the drinks I’ve had. Cato looks at me like I’m crazy, but I can see him fighting the corners of his mouth from rising.
“How thoughtful,” I manage to say between giggles.
I turn the knob of my door and gesture for him to set it on the nightstand. He hesitates for a moment at the door frame but eventually walks in. I continue to sip my glass of wine as I take a seat on the comforter.
“You know I’ve never really drunk before,” I blurted out without thinking.
Cato smirks and takes a seat on the floor next to me. “Yeah, I gathered that.”
“Oh, did you know? And how many drinks have you had in your life, Hadley?”
He extends his hand out for my glass and takes a sip before starting his story. “Today, almost as much as you. Before today I had only had it once back at 2.”
Not caring about any social queues, I gulp some water and snuggle further into my bed. If he has any probably with it, he could fuck off. He doesn’t say anything about it but just elaborates on his answer.
“Last summer Slate started dating the mayor’s second daughter. He managed to convince her to smuggle us a bottle of liquor her father had stashed away. The four of us drank it all that night. It tasted awful, but none of us wanted to chicken out. The mayor found out because of course he did. Slate is now no longer allowed within ten yards of their house.”
I chuckle and hold out my hand for the glass. Cato obliges and moves closer to hand it to me. When his hand reaches mine, I don’t move away. The laughter in me dies down. Our fingers are still sharing the glass and I look at him expectantly. I—I feel it, but I’m not quite sure what I’m expecting. He’s searching my face again; I can tell by the flicker of his eyes. He is looking for that thing from the other day. My stomach turns and I can’t tell if it’s the wine or the butterflies.
Eventually, I move first and place the wine on the nightstand, never taking my eyes away from his. His eyes were a clear shade of blue. His hair was now cropped, no longer falling in his eyes. He seems to have gotten closer. He smells nice like the sweet soap the Capitol has and probably sweat.
He leans close, a breath away. My eyes flutter shut, and I feel his lips press against mine. They’re soft but firm. The taste of wine lingers between us and it’s nice. This isn't how I imagined my first kiss; sitting on a bed with wine and covered in gold. However, this kiss is good, it’s better than I would’ve thought. I don’t know what to do exactly, but then he starts to move his lips. I follow and match his moves. I shifted my hand from the bed to his hair and that seemed to encourage him. I feel him smile against my mouth and move back to look at him.
His smile fades a bit, but he’s staring into my eyes again, just my eyes. He’s certain, whatever he was looking for I think he knows. Maybe I know it too, but I'm not ready to say it yet. I don’t think it’s wise to.
“I should probably go to my room and wash off this gold stuff on my face,” he sighed.
“Yeah, I should probably do that too. Here, I mean,” I said.
He chuckles and gets up from the floor. “Goodnight Clover,” he says before shutting the door.
“Goodnight your greatness,” I sigh.
My head is pounding. There is an ache in my body and I'm certain it’s bouncing from my skull to my stomach deciding where to settle. Dawn appears on the mountain scene on my wall. I turn over my shoulder to look at the small window above my bed. The first light of morning sure enough. I managed to drag my feet over to my bathroom without tripping.
I take a few minutes to play with the buttons of the shower. It has five buttons next to a water sign, assuming one of them is hot and the other is cold, I opt to push one in the middle. I reach my hand in and am pleased. The warm water from the shower is soothing. I let it fall over me for a bit before experimenting again to find the soap. After a few tries a lemon-scented foam sprays my body. As I work the soap around with a brush, I try pushing another button that causes a bubbly liquid to fall. Thankfully nothing lands in my eyes. It smells fruity and I’m confused why you would need two different kinds of soaps. I guess when you’re in the Capitol, you can afford to have two or more kinds of soaps.
Once I’m finished with the oddities of Capitol hygiene, I walked back into my bedroom. I see that an outfit has been laid out for me. A pair of stretchy but tight black pants, a charcoal grey shirt, and a pair of running shoes made with rubber. I put them on and go back to the bathroom to grab one of the hair elastics from the night before. I don’t know how to do much with my hair, Iris used to always do it for me.
I wonder what they’re all doing back in district two. Bree and Maisley must’ve been shocked to see me with my hair braided like that. Lucia would’ve loved the dresses everyone was wearing. I wonder if Iris is even letting Lucia watch it this year. No that’s a stupid thought; of course, they’re all watching. We watch them every year. I wish I could talk to them, any of them. Bree and Maisley would want to hear every word. Maisley would be able to tell I had my first kiss just by looking at me.
Oh, right.
Memories of the night thumped in my head, bringing back my headache in full force. It was nice, more pleasant than what Bree described. Where did that leave us though? In a few days, we’d be out in the arena armed with weapons ready to slaughter anything with a shadow. Did he like me? Did I really like him? I rolled my eyes at my own thoughts. Such trivial questions are for children, babies really. Would someone like Enobaria be worried about a boy liking her? No, she wouldn’t.
Speaking of which, she hasn’t come to get me, no one has. I creep over to my door and open it slowly. There are some sounds of dishes being moved, so I decided to leave my room myself. I make my way to the dining room and find Enobaria seated at the table with coffee and toast. Magnus goes to sit to the right of her, with a plate stacked high with food. I see a separate smaller table has been set to the side holding piles of different foods that make my stomach growl.
The attendants are dressed in all white again. One of the male ones grabs a plate as I approach. I walk over to the pastries and reach for a muffin that he intercepts with a pair of tongs.
“I can’t grab my own food?” I huff.
He gives a curt shake of his head but says nothing more. I’d fight him on it, but I’m too hungry. The headache also isn’t helping my resolve. I’ve never been a morning person. I settle on just pointing to foods I want. Before walking back to the table, I’m able to snag a cup of yellow juice myself. I pick a seat across from our two mentors and dive into the sweet and savory flavors of my breakfast. After a few minutes, Magnus slides a small glass with a bit of purple-bluish liquid inside.
“For the hangover,” he snickers.
I furrow my brows and hold it warily. “What’s a hangover?”
His face pulls into a half smile, and he gestures to his head. “It’s when you drink so much that you feel awful the next day. You had quite a bit of champagne before the wine. Trust me I’m a professional. Drink the medicine, or don’t and suffer.”
I rub my temple and groan. That explains why I’ve felt awful all morning. I chug the liquid from the glass and shiver. Even medicine in the Capitol had odd flavors. I follow it with a sip of the yellowish juice and am surprised when it helps. The juice is tangy and opaque. I’m not sure what fruit it belongs to. While my family certainly always had something to eat, that didn’t mean we had the luxury to afford a variety of drinks or juices. Just occasionally the grape one they sold on the market for holidays.
Cato walked in dragging a hand down his face. He doesn’t even point at the food he wants, just waves his hand to gesture toward the table. The attendant picked up a bit of egg, sausage, bread rolls, meat, and a small square cake. It’s once he starts reaching for the fruit that Cato stops him and grabs his plate. By the time he takes a seat next to me, Magnus is already sliding over a glass with the same liquid he just gave me.
Cato doesn’t even bother trying to ask questions, just chugs half of it wordlessly. He shivers too and after he sips his water, he seems to revert back to himself. “Morning everyone,” he greeted. “Thank you, for that. I was worried I’d have to wait it out.”
Magnus dips his head in acknowledgment and continued to spread butter on his roll. “Can’t have our tributes stumble into training hungover. You might try to kill someone before the games even begin, which is very frowned upon.”
Cato leans closer to me and whispers, “Did you have some already”?
I finally meet his eyes and nod, adding a hum of agreement. He rocks his head up and down and takes the last of the medicine in a swig. The breakfast is pleasant enough. There is little said other than a few questions and answers between Magnus and Enobaria. For a second, I think about what it would be like during breakfast at home: the constant small arguments, shouting, spills, and laughs. This is nothing like that.
Enobaria cuts off my thoughts by discussing the day’s activities. “For the next three days, all the tributes will be together practicing skills. On the last day, you will each have a private session with a room of Gamemaker's. Clove, you’re great with knives so that would be the chance to show them that. Practice, it is important you impress them.” I nod lamely. What else am I to do? Lie there? “Cato, I hear you’re decent with a weapon too. Whatever you’re choosing they will have a sparring partner there to practice on. You must be excellent as well.”
“Also, there is the matter of coaching. Enobaria and I believe it would be best to coach you separately. While both of us will be open to questions and tips, we think it is best to pair you according to our skills. Cato, you will be my charge and Clove Enobaria’s. Is that alright?” Magnus says.
I nod again. I imagine it won’t be much different. The two of them are obviously capable enough to win their games and I’m already pretty comfortable with her.
“What would the other option be?” Cato asked.
I’m surprised, but curious as to why he’d have any objection.
“Well, if you’d like, Enobaria could coach you instead. Or we could both train you two together, but we think that it’s better this way. You’re not a team. While later on we’ll discuss more about alliances, as of now you each are fighting for your own life. Only one person makes it out of these games alive.” He coughed and muttered under his breath, “It’s best to not get too attached”.
Cato looked at his plate and nodded firmly. He seemed a little caught off guard by the answer, but that didn’t make sense. We always knew there would only be one victor.
“While weaponry is important,” Enobaria started, “take the time to learn life skills. Learn how to catch food, start a fire, and find clean water. Your skills will get you far, but there’s one thing the lower districts have that you don’t…They know how to stay alive on the brink of death.”
I clench my fork in my hands and grind my jaw. I suppose she’s right. That just means I have to take out the competition before it gets to that point.
We sit and talk for a bit longer exchanging tips and tricks until it's a quarter after nine. Cato and I start making our way toward the elevator where we’re supposed to meet Laureen. She’s as chipper as ever and I start to wonder if the Capitol has an energy boost that she takes. If they have something that cures hangovers, surely, they have something that fixes poor sleep.
Cato and I still haven’t talked about the other night. I don’t know who will bring it up first, or at all. I try to shake away those thoughts as we near the entrance to the training facility. Laureen drops us off at the doors of a gymnasium. Some people come over and start pinning cloth with our district to the backs of our shirts. They usher us to the center of a room where a few other kids are gathered.
It reminds me of when Iris would sometimes take me to the marketplace. A few farm animals would be wrapped in sashes with their weight on them. From what I can tell, it’s just us and districts four, five, and seven. A few more tributes start filing in and I wonder if they’re going to wait till, we all arrive to let us start training. The girl from district one starts to approach us with the boy from her district in tow. The girl from district one is tall and a bit curvy. Marvel has the same build as some of Cato’s friends back home but stands a lot shorter than him.
“I’m Glimmer, this is Marvel. As your mentors probably told you, our districts kind of have a thing for joining together.” She said, giving Cato a long once-over. “And for the record, I think I make great company.”
I stepped in front of him and sneered. “So besides being named after a verb, what do you do exactly?”
She tossed a braid over her shoulder and replied, “I happen to be very skilled at hand-to-hand combat short stack. Not to mention I actually have great people skills, something I’m sure you lack.”
Before I could snap back Marvel cut in. “Both of us have the favor of several Capitol citizens. A few have already started trying to approach our mentors to arrange sponsorships. If you agree to form an alliance maybe, we could share. Four is better than two.”
“Sounds good to me,” Cato replies.
I whip my head back to him and he raises a brow. He gestures to the two with his eyes and I know he’s trying to remind me of what our mentors said.
“Fine,” I gritted out. I go back to standing next to Cato while he introduces us and mentions our skills. It’s all the same to me: alliance, no alliance. It’s just a matter of when I kill them, not if.
We chat amicably enough and agree to start with combat skills first. There isn’t much competition, but no one should be underestimated. The group of tributes ends up forming a warped circle as we wait. Around the room are rows of weapons, an obstacle course, a screen with various plant shapes, and small centers I can’t fully see from here.
The boy and girl from district twelve finally arrive and I scoff. Of course, they are the last ones. They’d be nothing without their entrance. They seem a bit tense, but I guess everyone is with the impending games. They make their way to the circle as some attendants try to pin their numbers on their backs. I look down at their clothes and wonder if they chose to match on purpose. I share a look with Cato and he just shakes his head.
A tall woman named Atala walked to the center of the circle and started discussing the facility and proper etiquette. She repeated what Magnus had said early about not killing other tributes, but it’s not like I need the head start. When she released us, Cato suggested we start in the combat center to show the other tributes how it’s done.
I look over and see their wall of knives, it's like a candy shop. I ran over to have the first pick. They had all sorts: blade heavy, handle heavy, balanced, point-balanced, and those are just the ones I recognize. There are some for skinning, carving, and ones that honestly just look cool. I grab three of the balanced knives and walk over to the targets for practice. Right next to it, Cato has convinced Marvel to join him in sparring practice. They take turns with the Capitol attendant.
I can’t tell if Cato is trying to intimidate him or simply not holding back, but I have a feeling it’s the former. For about an hour I practiced throwing a variety of knives. It doesn’t take me long to adjust to the different weights. I play with the idea of throwing them from different angles, but I don’t want to risk failing in front of the competition. Cato and I agree to switch areas so I can practice my combat skills and Marvel can show off his javelin throw.
About half an hour in I take a break for water and look around the facility. It turns out Glimmer had been spending the last hour embarrassing herself with a bow and arrow. I decided to take pity on her and suggest that we try to go to the fire station. We bicker a bit about the right technique, and I think the worker is too scared to get involved. When lunch is finally served, I contemplate their being a gracious higher being.
Although talking to Glimmer makes me want to practice my carving on her, I have to admit she does have people skills.
“Do you think they’re dating? Katniss and I think his name is Peeta.” She asks while we walk over to the table with Cato and Marvel.
She’s talking about the boy and girl from District 12. I look over at them and see them laughing by the bread bowl. “I don’t know, they certainly seem to have the same amount of brain cells.”
While we eat, we fill the boys in on the conversation.
“No, they don’t look like each other’s type,” Cato drawled.
“Yeah, like… he looks like he’d be more into that District Eight girl. The one with the curly blond hair,” Marvel added.
“No, you’re dead wrong. Look at him, he’s completely smitten,” Glimmer said, gesturing to him.
It’s hard to argue with her when he hasn’t even taken a bite of food while the girl talks animatedly about a story.
“I hope for his sake she’s just a good storyteller,” Cato said, taking my attention away. I wouldn’t think he’d say that so… solemnly.
“Why,” I asked.
“No, I get it.” Glimmer answered instead. “I wouldn’t want to go into this competition with anyone I cared about either. If I won, it would mean that they died. If they died, it meant that I didn’t do enough to protect them.”