Chapter O4 ⨾ Tribute Parades, Plans, and Performances.
Inez lightly steadied herself as the horses started pulling the chariot and as the music started playing.
"Well, look at this, folks! We sure have a fine set of tributes this year," Caesar Flickerman said to the broadcasting camera.
Inez and Dylan put on their best smiles and occasionally waved at the audience, making them cheer even louder.
"Let's take a look at District Four, everyone. They are killing it with the crowd!" Caesar roared with excitement.
The two kept their performance up steadily, and after what felt like an hour, their chariot came to a halt as the others did too.
President Snow made his way to the stand to make a speech, "A big welcome to our tributes for this year's Hunger Games. We honor your bravery and respect for the Treaty of Treason. The Hunger Games is a symbol of unity, and this year, you all represent that. I wish you all the best of luck, and may the odds be ever in your favor," he finished and the crowd clapped loudly.
Inez fought the urge in her to drop her smile at the mere sight of the man. But she couldn't. She had to act. She had to perform.
"I'm proud of you both. The Capitol already loves you!" Odeta said as the two tributes, now in regular clothing with fresh faces and hair, made their way to the dinner table.
"I have no doubt that sponsors will be reeling in the more you two keep it up. Good job today," Marc nodded as the two sat down.
"Tomorrow is the interview, so now is the time we plan for that," Ronan said before putting some bread into his mouth.
"How long are the interviews again?" Inez asked.
"They're always around five to ten minutes long," Cordelia answered.
"So obviously, Inez, you're performing. So try and think of a song to play and sing for that. Dylan, actually for the both of you, give them a bit of a sob story. Or just anything that would make the audience feel bad for you two," Finnick told them and the two nodded.
"Make sure you two look and feel sad yourself when telling the story, make them really sympathize with you," Lorraine added.
There was a ring from the doorbell.
Dylan's brows stitched together, "What's that about?" he asked, more of talking to himself.
"Oh, this is probably Inez's guitar. Store owner wants you to check it, tune it properly and all so when they bring it to Caesar's interview no time is wasted trying to adjust it," Finnick replied as he opened the door.
Inez followed suit and laid her eyes on the guitar. It was white and sleek with silver trimming. She gently picked it up.
"Do you have a song in mind for tomorrow?" Finnick asked.
"Not really, no. All I know is that I want it to be something my great-grandmother wrote and performed," she said, racking her brain for the songs her relatives have passed down to her from the lady in question.
She thought of the pieces of writing she's learned when she was younger, until the perfect one came into her mind. It was a song about leaving someone behind, about being lost in the reaping.
She strummed the first few chords of the song until abruptly stopping and shaking her head. She had to tune it a little.
A few more tries and she finally got the right one, passing the guitar back to the man outside the door with a small smile.
Once the man left, Finnick shut the door and the two went back to the dining room.
"I heard the chords, you're playing the ballad. Good choice," Dylan smiled at his best friend.
"Yeah, it seemed really fitting for the games," Inez smiled back.
Later that night, Inez found herself struggling to sleep, once again.
She left her room quietly before making her way to the kitchen for some water. She headed for the living room with the glass in hand. She stopped in her tracks after seeing someone already seated on the couch.
"Looks like you beat me here," Inez joked and the person turned around to look at her. It was Finnick.
"I couldn't sleep," he said quietly.
"Well it seems that we're facing the same predicament," she told him as she sat on a nearby chair, sipping on her water.
Finnick stared at the wall blankly, looking quite tired. Defeated even. Inez has never seen the man in this state.
"What has the Capitol darling all stressed?" she asked with a tilt of her head, "It's fine if you don't want to talk about it," she added.
He glanced her way with a small smile before his gaze fell onto his lap, "I thought winning the games was great at first. But when I first started mentoring..." he trailed off while shaking his head, "No one has won from our district since I did. I feel like a bad mentor. I can't help but blame myself at times. Blame myself for not being able to save them. I'm scared that I won't be able to save either of you," he said sadly.
Inez's eyes softened as she thought of a reply, "It's not your fault. I'm sure you always try your hardest to help the tributes. If Dylan and I don't make it, neither of us want you to blame yourself. Not to mention that because of you guys, because of your advice, we might even have a chance in that arena," she told him.
Finnick looked up at her and she smiled, "I have a good feeling about you two. I'll— We'll all try our best to get one of you out of there," he told her.
"Thank you," she said. But inside her head were begs for them to save Dylan.
letter from julia 💭 ៹ ° . ҉
Finnick, Inez, and their late night talking AHHH.
They're starting to become friends I'm so happy!
Poor Finnick, he's scared that both Inez and Dylan would die and he'd blame himself. Being a mentor looks so sad honestly. Snow is sick for putting the burden of it on the victors' hands when it used to be on the Academy students'.
Anyways, hope you guys liked this chapter!