Chapter Seven

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     The scent of a breakfast buffet filled with everything from freshly baked doughnuts to sizzling bacon awakens me. I am honestly surprised that I have no recollection of any dreams during the night considering the content that my mind had to mess around with over the last twenty-four hours. That's probably a good thing though considering that I cannot imagine a pleasant dream playing out after everything that has happened. The conversation between Malo and I plays over in my mind which is annoying because I wish I could move on from it. I make a mental note to have some sort of conversation with him about it later, with the hopes that we can start fresh. I have realized that I may have misjudged him and his intentions. Then again just because he is not out to kill me now does not mean he will spare me in the arena.
     I yawn away my thoughts and focus on the food which is rather easy to do. Within the next few minutes, I have made my way to the living room where an Avox is posted beside an assortment of pastries. I ask him for permission to begin filling up a plate that I grabbed from the end of the table as if it were possible for him to respond. He nods which is enough of a green light for me to add a display of eggs, sausage links, berries, and toast to my glass platter. I pour myself a tall glass of orange juice that causes my mouth to water at the thought of the citrus flavor. By the time I am seated, Brutus has begun to raid the food that spreads across the table. I never bless my food before eating but I remember my mother always saying a short prayer before meals, so I do as well to commemorate her.
     Brutus eventually leaves the buffet and sits beside me, his plate having almost double the contents that I have on mine. I let out a slight chuckle that causes him to smile.
     "I have more muscle to fuel than you do, my dear," Brutus explains as he sticks a fork into a bacon strip that rests on top of an omelet.
     "But anyway, how are you holding up, kid?" He asks, raising an eyebrow as he lifts his fork to his mouth, ultimately crunching into the bacon.
     It is too early to deep dive into the abyss of my emotions; therefore I simply answer with, "I'm doing great."
     "I can't help you if you lie to me, so please save the charades and tell me what's going on," Brutus responds with a tone that is not too serious but one that gets the point across.
     For a few moments, I try to answer the question in my head and fail to string together a plausible answer. It is very clear to me that I do not feel good, or even fine, but I'm also not on the brink of suicide which I can imagine is better than some of the other tributes. The uncertainty of it all is the root of my constant paranoia. To add on top of it, the guilt that I woke up with from last night's conversation with Malo is not helping things either. I can't decide if I want to lie to Brutus in order to get him off my back or actually let him in. "Yeah, I'm not great," is what ends up coming out.
     Brutus stops eating his plate of food to walk over and comfort me, unaware of how much I needed it. He wraps his arms around me, squeezing gently, and for the first time ever I feel a genuine connection to him. Brutus pulls my chair out, turning it to face him whilst I remain seated. Afterwards, he kneels to the ground so that we can both see each other at eye level. His hands find mine, holding onto each other as they sit in my lap. There is an awkward silence where we both stare at each other until he begins speaking.
     "You are going to get through this, okay? People cannot know that I told you this because I'm not even supposed to know. But I did some talking and found out that your mother was taken back to District Two early this morning. She is safe," Brutus says in a hushed voice.
     It is amazing how three words can completely flush all the fear from your body at once. She is safe, she is safe, she is safe. The sensation of relief graces over me allowing me to feel like myself again. I do not hesitate to throw my arms around him and thank him many times. I am not sure if he realizes how much I appreciate what he did for me. Brutus did not have to go out of his way and find intel on where my mother was. I am sure he had to make some sort of bargain with a Capitol official to find out this kind of information. Brutus may be a ruthless killer in the arena, but this is the nicest thing anyone has ever done for me. I do not think I will ever be able to repay him.
     "Well, good morning," Malo says as he walks into the room, causing Brutus and I to release from our hug. There is a new air to the world knowing that my mother is okay, so I smile. By the time Malo gets his breakfast on his plate, Brutus and I have finished eating. The Avox walks over to us with a cart that offers a variety of beverages on it to refill our drinks. Malo seems to be in a decent mood, maybe he is not upset with me after all? I completely planned on apologizing for last night but if he does not think it's that big of a deal then I am not going to make it one.
     "Training starts at ten-o-clock, so be ready. It's an important day, make sure to pay attention to who everyone is talking to, what weapons they are good at, all that kind of stuff," Brutus explains as Vivian walks into the room with a towel wrapped around her head. She must have just come out of the shower, reminding me that I need to take one eventually.
     "I saw that you guys were together after the parade and seemed aligned, but make sure today that you solidify something extremely strong with One and Four," Vivian states, picking up a doughnut off the table and then sinking her teeth into it.
     "Also, don't be a fool. Show off, that is fine. Don't share your secrets though," Brutus says.
     "What do you mean, secrets?" I ask, watching Brutus as he leans his back against the wall.
     "I mean for example, what are you two best at weapon wise?" He asks.
     "I know it's basic but I'm the best with a sword, not too bad with spears," Malo says before turning over to me, awaiting my answer.
     "Knives, throwing or combat. I'm pretty decent with an axe as well," I tell Brutus, looking over at Malo until he looks back to Brutus.
     "Alright, Malo you stick with swords today. Carmen, knives. In order for you to win every single person in that training room must die. Steer clear of the axes and spears. Do not let them know all of your strengths," Brutus insists as Vivian walks over to us.
     "A big part of being a career is intimidation and fear mongering. Make sure everyone in that god damn training room today feels like they would rather take their chances and run away from the cornucopia filled with crucial supplies that they will need to survive; than have the possibility of facing one of you during that bloodbath," Vivian commands, crossing her arms and allowing a smirk to form on her face.
     Careers typically come from districts One, Two, and Four with rare exceptions of recruiting from outlying districts. The idea is that the strong stick together so that there is a solid power structure in the arena. Anyone who wants to stand a chance to win will need to take a shot at the careers, but the chances that they survive that encounter are extremely slim. In a perfect world once the numbers have dwindled enough then everyone splits up and faces the end game alone. However, there have been many times where people take the easy advantage and backstab the alliance early, usually resulting in a few casualties. When betrayal within the careers does happen, the tributes from the outlying districts' odds at winning the game skyrocket.
     Brutus and Vivian finish up their morning pep talk and dismiss us until training. I take this time to shower, trying out the different Capitol body washes that I had overlooked from the night before. Once clean, I imagine my parent's faces once they are reunited. I bet my father has been worried sick wondering what had happened to her, then I imagine the disappointment that he will feel once he finds out what my mother did. I can see them arguing about it but hopefully they will come together and cheer me on as I compete. My father will be so excited to see me on TV fighting for him and District Two, whereas my mother will probably be worried sick. I smile at the thought of them rooting me on, and then decide that I could go for a nap before training. I make my way to the unmade bed that I left this morning and plant myself in it, dozing off into a dark paradise.

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