EVERMORE ⎯⎯⎯⎯ CORIOLANUS SNOW

ii. twisted games

Selah chewed on her bottom lip. The anticipation of finding out the winner of the prize was eating her alive more than she'd like to admit. She was getting into University either way, as her dad had already set aside the money in case she did not win, but the girl wanted the bragging rights more than anything. Something else to shove into Clemensia and Arachne's sour faces.

Then she looked towards Coriolanus—a boy she knew did not have a pot to piss in, but yet acted like he was the wealthiest in the room. In her heart, she felt sorrow for him, but Selah could not bring herself to pity him. Not when his shameful front was his own doing.

Still, Coriolanus was smart, and Selah knew that he had the best chance of winning the prize. Although, Selah was one of the smartest teenagers in the Capital, her wits were not enough to match Coriolanus'. He may lack in money, but their was no lack in his knowledge.

"I have broken free of my laboratory today to examine you leaders of the next generation. I won't be around forever, after all."

"There is no prize." Selah swallowed roughly, feeling the heat of Coriolanus' breath on her neck suddenly.

Her heart stopped. It had to have been a mistake. What were they all still doing there then? Selah's face grew hot in rage and she didn't bother to turn to face Coriolanus, much less respond. Instead she steadied her heated glaze on the woman in charge of the Games. Just what kind of twisted game were they beginning to play at?

"Now, I am honored to introduce to you, the creator of the Hunger Games themselves; Dean Casca Highbottom," Volumina drew out, all attention leaving her and going onto the man downing a tube of Morphling.

Selah sighed at the man's addiction to the drug. It seemed every time she saw the man he couldn't go ten minutes without downing the liquid into his system.

He pursed his lips, clearly annoyed with having to be there at all, much less have to speak. "Select students, faculty, and of course, Dr.Gaul, I have summoned you all here today for the tenth annual reaping ceremony. In which, we choose two children from each District to throw into the Capital arena to fight to the death in the Hunger Games."

Clemensia grazed apart of Selah's hair as she leaned forward to rest a hand on Coriolanus' shoulder. "I can't believe they still allow him to speak in public."

"And here sit our own twenty-four top prospects," He nodded towards the children sitting in rows along the granite steps. "All eager to hear the results of whose won the Plinth Prize, no doubt."

Each one of the finalists seemed to hold their breaths at the first mention of the prize. Coriolanus cleared his throat quietly, anger filling his mind at the false hope the man was creating. Selah simply let out a scoff, suppressing the want to stand up and make a dramatic leave.

Highbottom took his bottom lip in between his teeth for a moment as he examined the students. "However, I am here to tell you there has been a change this year; one final assignment to prove your worth."

     Selah lifted her gaze from her shoes, interest peaking at the word of another chance to win the prize. Maybe it would be something other than smarts and she would have a real chance in beating Coriolanus.

     "The esteemed citizens of the capital have grown bored of the games and simply aren't watching anymore. And if the games are to continue at all, there must be an audience." Highbottom shrugged. "So, head game maker Dr.Gaul stepped in to... incentivize patriotic value with her own unique flair, starting with you." The finalists all shared equally confused expressions with each other. Sejanus sent a sorrowful glance towards Selah, who only blinked at him before turning away.

     "The Plinth Prize will no longer be determined by grades, but by who is the best mentor in the Hunger Games."

     Selah sat unmoving. It seemed as if the Capital children were now being treated as if they were District. She wasn't sure whether to e excited at another shot towards the prize, or offended by being stuck in such a situation as mentoring a tribute. Selah had much more wasteful things to do than to convince a District child into believing they would actually win the Hunger Games.

     "As the reaping progress live, I will allocate each District tribute a Capital mentor; behind the scenes, one who must persuade them to perform for the cameras."

     "Obviously, the best mentor will be the one who's tribute wins the games," Festus spoke up.

     "What if I get one of the pathetic runt girls from one of the poor Districts like eight or twelve?" Arachne stressed.

     Selah laughed, "Then you'd get what you deserve."

     The girl ignored her, continuing with her tantrum. "They're just gonna die in two minutes like they did last year and the year before."

     "Your role is to turn these children into spectacles, Ms.Crane, not survivors," Highbottom concluded with a shake of his head. "Victory in the games is only one of our considerations. Your entire future rests on this last project. Oh, and I must tell you that anyone caught cheating, or give their tribute an unfair advantage, will just have no future at all."

     The sound of the reaping music began to play and all attention snapped up to the broadcasting TVs. Selah immediately became increasingly nervous that she, too, just like Arachne stressed, would get some runt of the litter tribute. She didn't let her nerves show as she clasped her hands together in her lap to cease their shaking.

     Highbottom took a seat in between Sejanus' and Coriolanus' feet, making the latter turn his legs to face Selah's. "Here we go. Let the reaping ceremony begin!" And though he sounded excited, everyone in the room knew how Dean Highbottom hated the Hunger Games. It was a drunken mistake that he desperately wishes he could take back. Take away all the pain and trauma from the children forced to participate. But he could not. Such things were long out of his control.

     "District one boy goes to Livia Cardew!" Highbottom read off of his list. Livia covered her mouth to hide the excited smile as her friends around her gave her taps of encouragement. "Girl goes to Palmyra Monty."

"District two boy goes to Sejanus Plinth." Everyone looked up at the screen again, greeted with a sight of a hostile teenage boy. Sejanus clenched his teeth together; it was his former classmate.

"You got the pick of the litter," Coriolanus told him, a hint of jealousy laced throughout his voice. Though, it was no surprise to Selah. Sejanus was obviously destined to be given the upper hand.

But Sejanus didn't take it as a good sign. "You forget, I'm part of that litter." His face had paled and there were tiny sweat beads lining his hairline. Selah thought he looked sickly, but she also thought of him ungrateful. Sure, he was put into an uncomfortable situation, but at least he got a strong tribute. Maybe if his constant whining on how District should be treated fairly ceased, he would stop being picked upon. But as long as he defended them, he was to be seen as one of them.

"Four boy, Stephanie Chris. Girl, Festus Creed." Festus lifted his eyebrows.

     Selah and Coriolanus were holding their breaths, both still without a tribute. They started to feel as though they would actually get stuck with the weak ones.

     "District 5 girl goes to Selah Ravens."

( ୨୧ OLIVIA SPEAKS, )
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