𝐉𝐔𝐍𝐎 𝐑𝐄𝐆𝐈𝐍𝐀 | 𝐭𝐡𝐞 𝐡𝐮𝐧𝐠𝐞𝐫 𝐠𝐚𝐦𝐞𝐬

𝟎𝟔. 𝐚 𝐟𝐚𝐧𝐠𝐞𝐝 𝐬𝐦𝐢𝐥𝐞

— 𝐫𝐨𝐦𝐮𝐥𝐮𝐬 —

━━━━━━ ☽【❖】☾ ━━━━━━

"Have you seen Atticus?" I asked, entering the common space where Rena was glaring at the television.

"Her name is Juneaux, if you were wondering," Rena replied, completely ignoring my question as she finally glanced in my direction, almost accusingly. "The district nine bitch... I saw the way you were staring."

"You were the one staring," I corrected. "I could feel the hate bristling from your shoulders."

"It was our moment!" she snapped. "We were warriors unfazed by battle, then she rides out like—you know what they're comparing her to?"

She rewound the recorded ceremony, finally playing when Flickerman and Templesmith flashed onto the screen. They made a few jokes here and there, commenting on each costume—some more favorably than others.

"And would you look at that!" Caesar exclaimed as the cameras zoomed in on district two. "A wolf and a viper: what a deadly duo."

"I certainly wouldn't want to be the ones facing them," Claudius agreed.

She sped the recording up, pausing on the moment where district nine came in to view. She seethed, set her jaw, then pressed play before crossing her arms as she leaned back in her chair.

"And here comes district nine," Caesar announced. "It looks like their stylists took a more antique approach to these costumes."

"They do appear far simpler than any of the previous years," Claudius agreed. "It certainly makes you question how much work these stylists—"

"Would you look at that!" Caesar interrupted with a gasp as Juneaux's skirt waved in the wind. "It's like she's arrived from the heavens. Ethereal! I tell you, that's what she is: a goddess."

"And don't forget that guardian Angel by her side," Claudius pointed out. "Would you look at the detail-work—"

Rena paused the program again then looked at me expectantly. "A goddess. They're calling her a goddess!"

"It's just a title." I rolled my eyes. "It doesn't actually mean anything."

"A goddess is immortal," Rena contradicted. "By that comparison, she'll win the public's favor for sure."

"Then we kill her first," I suggested. "They'll quickly forget about her and move on to the next tribute."

Rena grinned at the thought, throwing her hair back over her shoulder as she rewound the tape again to watch her own entrance.

"But maybe you should focus on improving your own favor with the crowd if it bothers you that much," I retorted. "Now, do you know where Atticus is?"

She lifted a hand over her head, pointing over the opposite shoulder toward the next room while never taking her eyes away from the television. I rolled my own eyes, then entered the room with a short knock.

"Atticus?"

Looking at his own reflection, combing the few silver streaks in his hair, Atticus nodded his head and ushered me inside. Only once I had taken a seat at the desk across from him, did he look away from the mirror on the wall. "What can I do for you, kid?"

"Public favor."

"And?" he asked. "What of it? Besides that fact that you severely lack it."

My lips twisted. "What can I do about it?"

For a brief second, he actually looked impressed that I'd come asking for help. "Flash a smile, kid. You've got looks, use 'em."

"A smile?" I questioned. "That's it?"

"That's a start," Atticus corrected. "The smile is just the beginning. I need you to build a personality around that smile. What you need to do is become a charming, self-entitled son of a gun."

"So act like the opposite of me?" I asked, slowly just to be sure I understood. "You want me to become Rena."

"Close," Atticus agreed with a nod of his head. He stood, walked around the desk, then placed his hands on my shoulders. "My boy, I think you have the potential to be everything Rena is not. With the right face, you can convince the public you're a carefree man of substance. You need to act like you've already won the games."

"And Rena?"

"Leave her behind for all I care," Atticus replied. "Let the crowd paint an ugly picture of her, but focus on becoming their shining knight in armor. You know why? My money's not on her, kid. It's on you. Take what I said to heart, and you'll make your ol' man proud. Hell, you'll make me proud! Now get some rest."

With the dismissal, I nodded my head then left the room. Rena was exactly where I'd left her, staring at her own reflection. I rolled my eyes then tried to leave without getting drawn into another conversation, but she was more attentive than I gave her credit for.

Rena scoffed. "I don't see why you're going to the escort for advice. Nightlock is just down the hall."

"Different strategies require a different mentor," I replied without batting an eye. "I'll see you in the morning."

I left before she could add anything else. Knowing that once she was given room to speak, she wouldn't shut up. I flipped off the lights, then climbed in to bed. The room remained a mystery to me since I'd only ever seen it in the dark. There was no point trying to remember it really because the layout of this room wouldn't matter in the next few days. Nothing would aside from my own skill, and the twenty-three tributes who'd die by my hand.

━━━━━━ ☽【❖】☾ ━━━━━━

The next morning was a blur. The mundane routine was ignored and I didn't begin paying attention until we reached the assigned training space. The metallic walls made the space appear dull, but my eyes lit up once they met the stack of weaponry in the center of the room.

Before any of us could take a step, a woman with dark hair and equally dark eyes greet us. "In two weeks, twenty three of you will be dead. One of you will be alive. Who that is depends on how well you pay attention over the next few days. Particularly to what I'm about to say."

I glanced over the crowd, eyeing each tribute as if trying to determine at what level they'd be a threat. Most I considered quite low. But once I reached the tributes from district one, I knew it wasn't going to be easy. It was doable, but it'd be the fight of my life.

"First," the woman continued. "No fighting with the other Tributes. You'll have plenty of time for that in the arena. There are four compulsory exercises, the rest will be individual training."

The tributes from district nine had definitely made an impression during the parade; however, here I could see how vulnerable they truly were. The boy with golden hair hardly looked up from the ground. Meanwhile, the ginger—Juneaux as Rena had said—maintained a steely look, but I could tell from the way she kept a hand on the boy at all times that her Achilles heel was in the open for all to see. She'd formed a poor-timed connection, and I'd exploit that if needed.

"My advice is don't ignore the survival skills. Everybody wants to grab a sword but most of you wil die from natural causes. Ten percent from infection. Twenty percent from dehydration." The woman concluded her message with a warning, "Exposure can kill as easily as a knife."

And just as the woman left the room and the group slowly scattered, that's when Juneaux noticed that I'd been staring. I kept calm and unfazed, looking her up and down as if she were nothing before walking away to retrieve a sword.

"Romulus!" Rena called out. "Romulus, come here."

I frowned, approaching my fellow tribute where she stood with a couple others. I crossed my arms. "I'm not your lapdog."

"Whatever," she waved the comment aside. "This is Lux and Halo, the district one tributes."

"Thanks for the introduction?" I'm sure I looked confused, but the incredulous look in Rena's eyes implied maybe I was an idiot.

"Allies, Romulus," she snapped. "We're forming allies."

"So soon?" I questioned. "We haven't even had time to see anyone train."

"Why bother?" Rena asked. "We want the best at our side, and the best is going to come from the first couple of districts."

"So the four of us against twenty tributes?" I asked with a scoff.

"Five per person," Rena agreed, then challenged. "Too much to handle?"

"It wouldn't be unwise to get one or two more on our side," I countered.

"Wolf-boy's got a point," Lux joined the conversation. I glowered at the nickname. "It'll be easier to gain control of the arena with numbers on our side. And if you take a look to the right, you'll see district four has some potential."

I turned my head, watching as the male tribute from district four skewered a training dummy with a trident. I couldn't disagree with Lux's observation, only nod along.

"What about the girl from district nine?" Halo asked. "It couldn't hurt to have the capitol's favored on our side."

Rena scoffed. "I don't think she's got what it takes."

"Besides," I added my own input. "She's got an anchor."

Rena, Lux, and Halo all turned their heads to watch as Juneaux knelt beside the golden-haired boy, helping him adjust his knotting technique beside one of the survival stations.

"So what do you suggest then?" Halo asked.

"Just let her play with the kid," I replied, approaching the rack of weapons before picking up a sword. "She's got a pretty face, but it takes more than that to survive the games."

If I was honest, I was beginning to feel just as irritated as Rena looked by the constant mention of district nine. I'd never let it show, but it was growing tiresome repeating the same conversation and observations. However, by the end of the first day, Rena and I had all the information we needed. She insisted that we recruit district one. Which was fine by me as long as we kept an eye on our own backs. Lux had suggested Beckett, the male tribute from district four, while Halo had a preference for Joule, the female tribute from district five.

My own opinion was never asked, but that didn't bother me. I'd already told Rena that recruiting allies was up to her, and that I'd handle the strategy once we were in the arena. I'd always been better at collecting my thoughts rather than voicing them out loud. Loud was Rena's department. She knew how to manipulate people, and I knew how to manipulate an environment to work for us rather than against. And so long as are interests aligned, that's how long we'd keep up the pretenses of looking out for one another.