PREDATOR | THE HUNGER GAMES

DRUNKEN ADVICE

"Supper time!"

Cal called for Lara and Atlas, who were overlooking the sunset of the Capitol on her balcony. They'd first discovered this view after the first few days, although it didn't compare to the one at home. But they'd both decided that any reminder of home was something they needed.

They ignored Cal's call and continued to look out at the horizon.

"Bet they don't have views like this in the arena."

She nodded softly, taking in the remnants of warmth the sun emanated. He sighed and slouched further in his chair.

"Have you ever watched a sunset from the fields?"

Atlas turned his head towards her, intrigued that she had been the one to start the conversation. He was too entranced to answer.

"The way the light hits the grain...how it filters through the grass-"

"It's ethereal."

Lara softly smiled at the interruption, agreeing with the description. They recounted any moment they could linger on to maintain their peaceful state, talking about everything from their childhoods till before the reaping.

Lara never talked about her family to anyone, even though the whole district already knew they were all deadbeats and no good troublemakers. Atlas was the first to see that there was much more complex things at play within the Foraye's. And when it got too intense, he started talking about his family. He had little siblings and two loving parents-everything Lara had wished for.

Cal once more shouted at them, causing Atlas to glance over his shoulder. He sighed and pushed himself up, extending a hand to his partner. She took one last look at the setting sun before accepting his hand and following him inside.

Cal waited for them at the table. They sat down in their respective seats and dug into one of the most luxurious meals of their lives.

"How was training today?" Cal questioned. He quirked an eyebrow specifically at Atlas, "I trust it was better than yesterday?"

He avoided the question by shoveling more food into his mouth. Lara hid her smile behind a napkin.

"And you missy? Making any allies?"

This time it was Atlas' turn to grin while Lara ignored him. They both chose to focus on their food. Cal simply clicked his tongue when they confirmed his suspicions.

"I must ask what your game plan is. Do you intend on staying together?"

A solemn silence ensued. They couldn't bring themselves to look at each other.

"I mean really, do you expect to go the whole game without harming or betraying the other?" he scoffed. He plucked a roll from the center of the table and gnawed on it, "Because I guarantee that won't last long."

Atlas began to argue with Cal. He fought to keep the peace at the table, and to not bring up such questions when they were together. He detested Cal's immediate assumption for cruelty. Eventually, their voices raised to a shout as it developed into a full blown argument.

Lara wasn't listening. She'd tuned out after Cal had asked the question. In truth, she didn't have a plan. She didn't know whether to stick with Atlas or not. It wasn't a matter of strategic alliance-he was not very strong or skilled-but a matter of loyalty.

Loyalty means nothing in the arena.

It wasn't until she heard her name being called that she was pulled out of her trance. She glanced between both men, their eyes pleading to pick a side.

"Excuse me," she murmured. She set her napkin down on the table and made a quick exit.

She had no idea where she was going, but she ended up in the training center. It was always open, but no one ever came in this late.

She glanced at the simulator on the far right wall. Being surrounded by the others whilst training was just a way for them to stalk her out early. She didn't want to physically show off any strength she had unless she needed to.

She walked over to the weapons table, grabbing the batons once more. She stepped into the simulator room, standing on the center platform. The lights dimmed as soon as her feet touched it.

Batons at the ready, she waited for a yellow figure to run at her. However, she was a novice and failed to look behind her in time. A figure charged, and she was immediately killed. The lights went red and returned to its preset dimness.

She was discouraged, but gave it another go.

This time she saw the first figure and swung. The baton landed in its chest, which effectively killed it. But while she thought she had time to relish in it, another attacked her side and she was dead again.

The lights went red.

This pattern continued, making Lara more frustrated with each attempt. She never made it past two kills before she was out.

On her ninth attempt, she outwardly cursed and threw her weapon.

"Now what will that do?"

She whipped her head around to the entrance of the simulator. She was surprised to see an older man casually leaning against the wall, observing her fails.

His shaggy blonde hair was unkempt and his clothes disheveled. Her had a coffee cup in his hand, but she had a sneaking suspicion it wasn't coffee at all.

"Anger is never the answer," he chuckled, "Except when you're in the arena."

She could tell by his slurred speech that he was drunk. Who the man was, she had no idea. But there was no use listening to a man if he wasn't in his right mind.

"What's it matter to you?" she spat, "You're not the one going out there."

He took a sip of his drink and winced. He wagged his finger at her, "I may not be going out there now, but I was in your shoes once upon a time, princess."

She scrunched her nose in dislike. But then she realized what he had said.

"You're a victor?"

He playfully bowed to her and walked to the far side of the room.

"It's come to my attention that you and your partner don't have a mentor. Sucks, doesn't it?"

She couldn't remember why the man was now familiar. Surely she would've recognized a past victor, but the name was slipping her mind.

"Do you have any advice?"

He squatted down and picked up her baton, inspecting it in his hand. It was almost as if he was trying to see if the weapon matched the tribute.

As he walked back, he pointed it at her.

"Don't die."

She rolled her eyes, "Are you kidding? I already know that."

"Yes, but can you do that?" he countered. That made her go quiet as he circled her. She felt like he was scrutinizing her, but he was simply assessing her probability of surviving. Nonetheless, her heart rate picked up.

"Not many people believe someone from my district can win," she stated.

"And let me guess...you want to prove them wrong? Do something they wouldn't expect?"

She nodded. He simply laughed and flashed his drunken smile. He stepped up to her and gave the baton back.

"There's power in doing the unexpected," he whispered, "Remember that."

She locked eyes with him right before he patted her shoulder and began to leave. Just as he crossed the simulator doors, she called out for him once more, but he was long gone.

She looked down at the weapon in hand, twirling it as he had done. She glanced around at the walls, now determined to beat the machine.

As she ran the simulator again and continued to train for hours into the night, she lingered on the strange man's advice.

There's power in doing the unexpected.

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