THE BALLAD REBORN | Hunger Games

FOUR

As I walked into the mentor's room, the stench of alcohol hit me like a punch to the gut. My mentor, a disheveled and indifferent man, barely glanced up from his glass as I entered. He saw me as weak, just another tribute to be thrown into the arena, destined to become another casualty in the Hunger Games.

But I had a plan. I have to managed to convince Haymitch to be help me in this game. He was notorious for his drunkenness and apathy, but deep down, I knew he still carried the spark of rebellion that had won him his own Hunger Games.

I approached him cautiously, not wanting to startle him in his drunken stupor. "Haymitch," I said, my voice trembling slightly, "I need your help."

He looked up at me through bleary eyes, his expression a mix of annoyance and curiosity. "What's in it for me?" he slurred, taking another swig from his bottle.

"I... I want to win," I replied, my voice barely above a whisper. "But my mentor doesn't believe in me. He thinks I'm weak. I need someone who understands, someone who can guide me."

Haymitch's eyes narrowed, and for a moment, I saw a glimmer of recognition. "You think I can help you? Sober up just long enough to give you some advice?"

I nodded eagerly, hoping he would agree. "Yes, Haymitch. I know you've been through this before. You know what it takes to survive. Please, help me."

He stared at me for what felt like an eternity, and then a slow, sly grin spread across his face. "All right, kid. You've got yourself a mentor. But don't expect any hand-holding. I'll help you, but you'll have to prove yourself to me."

Relief flooded through me, and I couldn't help but smile. "Thank you, Haymitch. I won't let you down."

He scoffed, but there was a hint of amusement in his eyes. "You better not. We'll start tomorrow. Get some sleep, Cordelia. You'll need it."

And with that, I left the room, feeling a newfound sense of hope. Haymitch Abernathy, the once-forgotten victor, would sober up and become my mentor.

•••

As I groggily wake up to the sound of Stella's voice, I slowly open my eyes and find her standing by my bedside, her colorful wig slightly askew.

"Good morning, Cordelia!" she chirps, her enthusiasm contrasting with my sleepiness. "It's time for breakfast. We have a big day ahead!"

Rubbing the sleep from my eyes, I sit up and glance at the clock. It's still early, I quickly get dressed and join David and Stella in the dining area for breakfast. The aroma of freshly baked bread and sizzling bacon fills the air.

"Morning, Cordelia," David greets me with a tired smile. He looks as though he had a rough night, but he's trying his best to hide it.

"Morning," I reply, taking a seat beside him. Stella, ever the bubbly escort, starts talking about the day's schedule, but my attention is drawn to Colin, our mentor, who sits at the head of the table, nursing a hangover.

"Colin, we were wondering what we should focus on in training today," I ask, hoping for some guidance. "Any advice?"

Colin glances up from his cup of coffee, his eyes bloodshot and tired. He lets out a sigh before replying, "Honestly, I don't really care. Just do whatever you want. It's your show, not mine."

David looks equally surprised, but he quickly regains his composure. "Well, I guess we'll figure it out ourselves," he says, his voice laced with determination.

Stella jumps in with her usual optimism. "That's the spirit! You two are going to rock the training session. Just remember, we're here to support you every step of the way! We'll I will be here I don't know about him"