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To say that I am confused is a severe understatement. Why couldn't Clifford simply tell me? Surely it had something to do with the games. I thought there was at least some degree of trust between all of us but now I'm second guessing it. I'm not just confused about the situation but also my emotions. Why am I feeling hurt that there isn't as much trust as there is in between all of us as I thought there was? For me to be hurt meant that I actually cared about it, and last time I checked, I didn't really care about the friendships I made here. Why should I, anyways? In the arena, we'd have to turn on each other, like it or not, and it'd be us against each other. Alliance or not. Besides, I'd either die or come out of the games alone. The only really meaningful friendship I had made so far was with Finnick.

On the other hand, I'm confused as to why I even thought there would be any kind of trust to begin with. It's the Hunger Games, there is no reason to even have an ounce of trust here. I'm not here to make friends, I'm here to win. The games begin in two days and the biggest weakness possible would be trust.

"Okay," I manage to say without sounding hurt as I finish filling my bowl with granola and, as usual, grab a couple of fruits. The usual conversations of 'hope you had a good rest' or 'what do you miss about home' carry on around the table as if nothing had happened although there is some tension in the air. For some reason, talking about home is the easiest thing to talk about, it brings joy and comfort to everyone and it's easier to talk about what we would be doing if we were back in District 4 as opposed to anything to do with the games.

"Alright," Clifford clears his throat before standing up. It's time for his usual pep talk and briefing for the day. "You'll each have a combined eight hours with your mentors for both presentation and content for your interview tomorrow night. It's extremely important to have good impressions with the Capitol audience, your training scores alone won't be good enough to get you sponsors no matter how high they are, you have to make a good impression. You're going to want them to love you. I'm sure you've done some of this in the Academy but it's important you still follow our guidance. We're going to present you in a certain way, alright?"

I freeze upon those words. Never in a million years would I think that those silly classes on how to speak and talk in a way that would make the audience love you or how to smile and wave properly and all of that nonsense would come in handy but it seems as though I've been proven wrong. Whatever we learnt in those classes would come in handy in tomorrow's interview. Unfortunately for me, I had done nothing but fool around in class. Apparently, the look on my face has somehow given away the fact that I had paid little to no attention in those classes because I can hear laughs from around the table.

I turn to look at Coral who can't help but smile, "let me guess, paid no attention to those classes?" I nod, slightly embarrassed but I'm met with reassurance. "Don't worry, that was most of us, I'm sure you'll do well anyways." I try my best to suppress a smile, it's nice to know my situation isn't as bad as I made it out to be and that I'm not the only one who had found the class utterly ridiculous.

We continue talking as we eat breakfast before going to our separate rooms to get ready for the day. I clean my teeth and change into a jumper and some pants, today there is no outfit awaiting me at the edge of my closet, so I have the freedom of choosing whatever I want to wear. I tie my hair up into a ponytail as usual and secure my bracelet on my wrist before making my way to the study. The peacefulness I feel, however, stops when today's earlier incident plays in my mind. Now I need to know what they were talking about.

I enter the study to find Finnick and Coral discussing something in hushed whispers, not noticing I have arrived until I clear my throat. "Are you guys going to tell me what was going on this morning?" I ask, taking a seat opposite the both of them.

𝐓𝐇𝐄 𝐌𝐄𝐑𝐂𝐈𝐋𝐄𝐒𝐒 𝐒𝐈𝐑𝐄𝐍 | 𝘁𝗵𝗲 𝗵𝘂𝗻𝗴𝗲𝗿 𝗴𝗮𝗺𝗲𝘀Where stories live. Discover now