The Career (Finnick Odair/OC)

6

(Age 23, The 75th Hunger Games- Quarter Quell )

We were seperated, placed in Individual hover crafts. I didn't like it, infact it put me more on edge. Mavis wasn't helping. She was sitting next to me rattling on about some dress that sold out. Cashmere was giving Gloss his send off which meant I was stuck with little miss chatterbox.

"..So I said, I said can't we just order in a bunch from District One? Obviously I named dropped. Told them I was the escort of a such a place. Special considerations should've been made you know!".

I nooded abesemtindely. Thoughts of how I might die in the next hour were more pressing then any of her Capitol first world problems. Not to mention my District isn't responsible for something so un-luxurious as a piece of cloth. No, this is more a shame on District Eight if they can't provide sufficient quantities for the Capitol, not us. But right now, I didn't have the energy to waste on teaching a Capitol citizen about different districts and what they're responsible for. But come on! District Eight is literally named 'textiles'. I rolled my eyes as she continued talking.

She huffed beside me. "Well you'd think they'd do something!?!. But apprently the dress wasn't even made in your District. Cinna, not only designs but he makes every garment by hand himself!". 

I hummed. Again I didn't get how this was so important. But its Mavis, I don't think she'll ever have the capacity to see through the Capitol. I suddenly felt her gripping my hand tightly and I met her eyes as something stabed my other arm. Bitch.

I looked up at the peacekeeper with a glare, only for Mavis to tusk at me. "Really Velvet, it may of hurt be he's only doing his job".

I didn't dignify that with a response. Instead I watched the tracker under my skin light up before fading away into my flesh. Did they ever take my last one out? I guess they probably did at  somepoint when I was strapped to a bed and fed through a tube after my games. Happens to every Victor but it was still the worst week of my life. 

Mavis shook her head. "Anyways where was I?"

I clicked my tongue. "Some guy makes them by hand?"

She noded. "Right!, So I had to be put on a waiting list, the nerve of them!"

I could feel her eyes on me then. "You seem quiet. Why, your last games you were jumping in your seat. You couldn't get into that tube fast enough. You know,". She looked pointedly at me. "Those who think they won't make it, usually don't. I'd turn that little attitude around if I were you".

I scoffed at her. "When has a tribute from District One ever felt like they'd die before entering the arena?"

She huffed back at me. "Manners. And I wasn't talking about District One, I meant those dirty little things from the outer districts".

I bit my lip. Those dirty outer districts like Johanna Mason and Katniss Everdeen would be some of my greatest threats. I sighed. "They're not to be underestimated. Not this year anyways...they've won this before too."

She gave me a small smile but it felt like the end of the conversation. She wasn't keen on anything that wasn't the Capitol or District One. She, like my mother probably thought I'd gone a bit soft for even considering them as potentially dangerous. 

Once the hover craft landed, Mavis along with four peacekeepers took me to my assigned launch room. As soon as I saw that tube in the corner I felt my stomach drop. This is really happening. 

I looked up at Mavis who had on a sweet smile. She gave my shoulder a squeeze. "Cheer up Buttercup, only less than five minutes and then you'll be up there having fun!".