𝐆𝐋𝐎𝐑𝐘 & 𝐆𝐎𝐑𝐄. ᵀᴴᴳ[1]

5

IF ANYONE WOULD HAVE ASKED SAGE WHAT HE THOUGHT SO FAR OF HIS TIME IN THE CAPITOL HE WOULD BE ASHAMED OF WHAT HIS ANSWER WAS. Of course he would lie through his teeth and say it was awful, that he much rather would have been in District Twelve. Which wasn't a complete lie, he missed home. He missed walking with Katniss and Prim through the district for school, he missed everything about Ella, he missed his mother's nagging for him to shave— all of it. But he didn't miss the hunger pains on nights that he took less during dinner so Kat or Prim could have a bit more. He didn't miss the lumpy bed that he slept on. He didn't even miss the smell of the mines that engulfed the district. Here in the Capitol, he didn't have any hunger pains because there were three promised meals a day and a abundance of fruits or baked goods to snack on. He had his own room that was plenty big enough, and like Deedee had told him— he could change the sounds and surroundings to whatever he wanted. His bed wasn't lumpy, and everything was made and cleaned up for him. The showers were a nice addition, even if he wasn't a fan of the soap that smelt of flowers— he knew that people back home, even Deedee would hate him if he ever admitted it; but he found himself enjoying everything the Capitol had to offer.

Even the opportunity to be in the training center; the chance to move like he could outside the fences. During his training time, he took Haymitchs' advice and kept away from the large room in the center where tributes could practice with their weapons. He stuck mainly with the climbing stations, the fire station, and other survival stations. Most of which he already knew, but it was nice to be able to learn more about each of them in there instead of in the moment like in Twelve. As much as he found himself enjoying the training and the food— at the end of the day or randomly as the thoughts made their way back into his head, he was reminded that it was all just to get him ready for the arena. Like fattening a pig before butchering it.

       This was one of those times that he found himself thinking about the arena; as he made his way out of his room, fresh and clean like Effie had asked him to do before dinner. He made his way into the living area of the penthouse where Haymitch was already seated. Before him, there was a large screen that was sporting a small image of each of the tributes, with their odds beside them. Sage wasn't far up on the list, but he wasn't at the bottom— he wasn't as much of a standout like Octavia had suggested.

"How'd day two go?" Haymitch asked Sage lowered himself into the plush couch.

Sage shrugged, "It was fine," he paused, "messed around at the climbing station." he stated, "I think tomorrow I'll do something like that during my private session."

Haymitch rose a brow, "And not show off your secret talent?" he asked, "People don't believe that you haven't got something up your sleeve." he explained simply, "The last few years, Twelve hasn't had a promising tribute," he said with a sigh as he leaned closer to Sage so their conversation between the two of them. "I know I said save it for the arena, but tomorrow, you've got to show them what you can do. All that matters is that the tributes don't know."