venus₁ [treech]

i i i

The next afternoon, after our morning classes and lunch break, all twenty four mentors gather on the balcony overlooking Heavensbee Hall. Each of us was given a questionnaire to fill out with our tribute. Or at least attempt to, I'm not sure how much I'll be able to get out of Treech. Maybe I can bribe him with the lemon cookies I stayed up late last night to bake.

Most of my classmates have yet to meet their tributes, and the nervous tension in the air proves it. We watch as Peacekeepers haul in the children. Each is shackled around the wrists and ankles. It seems like overkill, as none of these kids seem particularly dangerous.

Each tribute sits at a table, labelled with their District number, and whether they are a girl or a boy. They could have at least given each table a sign with the tribute's name. Once they're settled, we are allowed to join them.

Festus moves to walk beside me, his hand resting on my waist. "Listen V," he says quietly. "I know you hate every aspect of this assignment, but please, do your best. I saw you on TV with your tribute, he likes you a lot. Put in the effort, for him, if not for yourself."

"You didn't see the way he spoke to me when the cameras weren't rolling. He hates me," I say.

"It doesn't matter if he likes you or not. I know you talk about the performative activism of this project and all, but with Coryo's proposal, you may actually be able to help. Just look good until then," says Festus. "I know you'll have no problem with that last part."

He winks at me. I shove him away, separating from him to find Treech's table. I find him, sandwiched between the tables belonging to Lamina and the girl from District 8.

"Good afternoon, Treech," I say cheerfully.

"Capitol," he grumbles in response. His hat is tilted over his face so I can't see his eyes.

I set my paper and pen on the table in front of me, setting my school bag on the floor at my feet. I see the sign labeling the table out of the corner of my eye. I also move that to the floor so I can't see it.

"What was that for?" asks Treech.

"I hate the fact that they diminished all of you to just a number and a letter. You're all worth more than that. It's disgusting," I say.

Treech smiles faintly, looking almost- was that prideful?

"So what is all of this?" asks Treech.

"What is what?" I ask.

"The visits, the food. This interview, or whatever this is," says Treech. "Because I heard it was a school assignment."

"It is," I say slowly. "Why?"

"So you're only helping me out for a grade?" he asks. "That's real low of you, Capitol."

"That's- that's not it. Not at all," I stammer. "I've wanted to help you. This is the only thing I've been required to do so far. Everything else, that was all me. Trust me, I'm not doing this just to look good. I have no idea what I'm doing, and helping you, that's the only thing I know how to do right. But I can't even do that properly, apparently."

Treech leans back in his chair, at least as much as he can with his hands chained to the table. He nods slowly, his eyes squinting as he scans my face.

"Okay," is all he says.

"Now can we get started?" I ask. "I brought lunch."

I pull out the extra sandwiches and fruit I'd grabbed earlier from the dining hall. Treech eats while I look at my worksheet.

I scribble in his name and District, since I already know the answer to that. I realize how difficult it is to read the fine print, so I reach into my bag to find my glasses. Once they are settled on my face, I read the next question.