The Hunger Games: Staying True. (Completed)

Chapter Four; It Isn't Looking Good. [Edited]

Because my name was third to be called, I am on the third floor of the training center.

I step into what is to be my last home. I will live here for two weeks, and then I will be transported to the arena, where I will surely die.

It is large, but I've seen places like this before. Most of the Capitol citizens live in apartments, the wealthy ones living in colossal spaces like this, the less wealthy living in high-rises with a few rooms to themselves. I'm sure even those tiny places would be luxury in the Districts, but to the Capitol that is the very bottom of the food chain. Squalor, almost.

I guess that's why Coin has chosen to pick only from the Noble families of the Capitol. Noble families are the ones ingrained in politics, control the media, aid the military etc. I suppose, if I'm being nice, Coin has been more merciful than she could have been.

Birch shoves past me and into the open space, moving to a table with a spread of food on it. I'm not hungry. I move after him, slumping into an armchair where I curl my feet under myself. I've been freezing cold ever since they called my family name at the Choosing Ceremony.

"Do I get an escort?" That's usually the deal; Mentors from the Districts, escorts from the Capitol.

"Not this year." His voice is muffled by the meat he's tearing off the bone with his teeth. I grimace. "They don't want any Capitol people involved. Too much power."

He's unexpectedly honest about the control that District 13 has over everything.

"Stylists?"

"Oh yes," He chuckles, and pours what looks like wine into a goblet. "They still want a show, Casteel, that much hasn't changed. You'll still be scored and have your interview." He cuts me a scathing look over his shoulder. "You'll have time to wear your pretty dresses and giggle in the spotlight."

"I've never giggled in my entire life." I grumble, "A dress would be nice, though."

"There wont be any trip through the Capitol this year." He turns and slumps on a sofa opposite the armchair I'm occupying. "Obviously, have you seen the state of the place? Plus, you're from families rather than Districts, so there's no theme to dress you up in."

"So we'll just have the interview to get sponsors?"

"No, there's a party planned."

"A party?" I blanch, oh, very classy.

"A ball, more like." He rolls his dark eyes and spits a bone onto the plate. It clatters noisily. "We'll all be dressed up nice and fancy, you tributes will present yourself to Coin and then have a few group dances. It'll be more personal, more easy for people to get to know you and like you."

"So we are allowed sponsors this year?"

"Why wouldn't you be?"

"Well," I shrug, "I thought we'd be tossed into the arena and just..."

"Left for dead." He provides.

"Yeah."

"That's exactly what's happening." Birch's eyes are hard as stone, and I know that this is important to listen to. "These Games will be more brutal than any that have come before. The Districts are still hungry for blood, and Coin will have their thirst quenched with your violent and dramatic death. No expense has been spared. The Gamemakers, who are from all over the country, work tirelessly to create an arena that will be awful and deadly."

"Then how is anyone to win?"

"This isn't about winning, not this time." He growls, jabbing a dirty finger at me. "It's about surviving for as long as you can. It's about waiting for everyone else to die."