The Hunger Games: Staying True. (Completed)

Chapter Six; A Pleasant Evening. [Edited.]

Above is Emerald's dress for the evening (except the lacework on the front is red).

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Coin is staring down at me with nothing less than amusement on her face, and I know - know it down to my very core, down in the centre of my bones - that the reason she is so smug is because of that ridiculous article.

I see it written all over her awful face. She knows what she's done, and she knows that I know about it all too. I've seen enough smug grins in my lifetime to recognise when a person is trying to gloat with their face alone.

Well, she tried to pass off my rebelliousness as idiocy, so lets give her a little reminder of how idiotic I really am.

Where we were clearly instructed to bow our heads in submission and smile our brightest, I do nothing of the sort.

I'm not brave enough to refuse to bow, but my head stays raised, my shoulders squared and spine straight as I dip into a low curtsy, my eyes not leaving hers for a moment. My lips are unsmiling, my nose scrunched in disdain, my eyes narrowed in hatred, eyebrows arched in condemnation. Every inch of my expression screams rebellion.

The smile slips off her face as I rise. I give a sly, nasty smile, and walk to the left.

Rosamund gives me a strange look as I take my place beside her. The fourth tribute, a boy named Stephan who has pale blue skin and snow white hair, takes his place beside me. Slowly, the small open space is filled with the Capitol's tributes.

"Welcome, honoured tributes!" Coin stands from what can only be described as a throne. She is alone on the raised stage, and she is quite a sight. "Welcome, honoured guests! Tonight is to be a night of festivities and celebrations, to thank you all for gathering, and for thanking the Capitol for their children!" Her eyebrows quirk up and she gives a little giggle, and everyone but us tributes laugh. She is mocking us again.

"The tributes have been kind enough to prepare a little show for us," She's smiling wide now, "It will commence in exactly one hour, until then, tributes may wander around the room, and guests may engage with them. I encourage you all to dance, to drink, to feast, and I wish you all a pleasant evening!"

There's a wealth of applause from everyone, and even the tributes around me clap. My hands stay firmly at my side.

"Happy Hunger Games!" She calls and flicks her fingers high, and the orchestra situated on a raised platform in a distant corner start up in earnest.

Immediately, people turn towards us tributes, start to approach us, eyes sweeping as if we're statues for them to ogle at. I duck away, slipping into the crowd, not that I go unnoticed, eyes follow me all the way to the buffet table, where I search desperately for alcohol.

"Is this alcoholic?" I ask an Avox in grey, he glances at the glass in my hand and nods. "Thank you." I murmur, and tip it back past my lips. I set down that glass and pick up another, and I'm on my third one when there's a hand on my elbow.

"Careful, that's strong stuff."

I glance over and find Haymitch Abernathy staring at the amber liquid in my hand. I quirk an eyebrow.

"That's the point." I grumble, knocking back the third one.

He chuckles, and then offers me a plate of desserts, "At least eat something before you inhale your next one, else you'll be stumbling before the party has even started."

I take a chocolate truffle cookie topped with cream and a raspberry from the plate. He nods, taking one himself. I'm surprised, he doesn't seem drunk tonight, and he always seems drunk. Maybe it's the fact that he's finally out from under the thumb of the Capitol. I used to like him; I met him once or twice at a few parties, and while he was usually on his way to being hammered, he was always funny.