The Trials of Neo City [WINWIN • YUTA]

🖤 6. Teen Idle 🖤

The sight of the Capitol made Sicheng gasp quietly, the beautiful city with its tall elaborate buildings drenched in sunlight. It looked like something from a dream, but the train only allowed for a few moments of ogling the skyline before dipping into a tunnel. He turned back to Lay, who slept with his arms crossed in the seat across from him. Renjun sat with his legs to his chest, his mind racing.

"Injunnie?" Sicheng's voice was quiet against the thrum of the train on the tracks, the car still dim as symbols and graffiti passed too fast to take notice. Renjun looked up quizzically, his brain seemingly on pause.

Sicheng looked at his brother and understood. Around Lay, around Peacekeepers, around everyone else Renjun was defiant and rebellious, refusing to go down without a fight. But he was one of the only people to see the real Renjun, a bright eyed little kid with a brain too fast for his own good and a habit of chewing on his hair when he was afraid.

Because he was. He was scared and wouldn't admit it, but Sicheng saw it in his eyes. It broke his heart.

"Injunnie, we're almost there." He whispered, Renjun nodding. He bit the ends of his dark hair nervously, face pale as the tunnels ended.

"Sicheng? What do we do when-" Before Renjun could finish his thought, they heard screams muffled by the glass of the windows. Renjun jumped and ducked and Sicheng's head perked up. As the train slowed, he caught the gazes of strangely dressed people in fancy and colorful wigs and loud eye makeup, lips adorning colors of blues and greens. It was bizarre, as bizarre as the Capitol people on broadcast he'd seen as a child.

"They look so... ew." Renjun marveled, Sicheng hissing at him to not be rude. The younger boy rolled his eyes and threw a half eaten bread roll at Lay, who jumped up suddenly and awoke. Renjun snickered under his breath.

"Ah! Oh, right. We're here?" Lay asked, looking around dazed. Sicheng nodded as the train came to a stop, cheering people clapping and whooping at the sight of them. His stomach hurt just looking at them, at how enthusiastic they were to see him die.
Sickening.

A woman with a pink wig and glass butterflies down her neck like a necklace. A man with purple lipstick and golden gloves, pointing at them through the window of the train, squealing. Someone in an elaborate coat with the single ugliest orange stitching Sicheng has ever seen.

The whole thing made his gut sink to his feet, even as the trio were ushered out of the train after it stopped and rushed out of the station and to an aircraft, a small thing flying them to a tall building with people crowding the lobby and entrance.

Everything was a blur; Sicheng and his brother bombarded by cameras and people asking questions, yelling and tugging on Lay after landing. They made their way into the lobby and their rooms, strange looks between admiration and sick sadism crossing the other's faces. The only thing Sicheng really noticed was when he almost bumped into a boy his own age, maybe older, with red hair and intense eyes that seemed to stare through him.

Lay showed them to their rooms on a floor supposedly with other tributes. He jokingly called it Death's Row, an old practice before the days of Panem, before Renjun cursed at him in every language he knew. Then he let the pair go.

Renjun was supposed to get settled in his own room before meeting their stylists, but simply followed his brother into his room instead.

"It's like we're pets or something." Renjun observed, looking around Sicheng's room and nodding. "The weird people at the train station. And below." He looked out of the window and sure enough was crowds flashing photos despite the windows being heavily tinted.

"I don't want to room without you." Sicheng admitted suddenly, Renjun laughing at him. The oldest frowned and rolled his eyes, Renjun never having been one for sentiment.

"You're just scared of the dark."

Sicheng shrugged and fell back onto his bed, nearly sinking into the softest fabric he'd ever felt. If he wasn't destined to die in a week's time, he'd be ecstatic, maybe even enjoying the luxury.

He was exhausted. Just this morning he was chosen for the Hunger Games of all things, fatigued, sleepy, and bombarded by lights and screaming. So, this moment of peace lulled him to sleep, a floaty feeling taking him over.

"Maybe I am. But I don't know how long we have; if I don't have to face the dark..." Sicheng yawned, tiredness falling upon him fast. "... then I won't."

His eyelids drooped as Renjun chuckled more. His body went limp on the soft sheets and blankets, still in his Reaping clothes.

Before sleep consumed him, the last thing he felt was a smaller body curl into his side and match his breathing, smaller arms thrown over his own as he whispered so quietly:

"I won't let you face it alone, ge. Don't worry."