The Trials of Neo City [WINWIN • YUTA]

🖤 16. Eros 🖤

"Hello. I'm, uh... Sicheng." Sicheng waved timidly at the cameras. Chris laughed charismatically and nodded, speaking into the cameras again.

Chris batted his eyes, glitter sticking to his lashes. "Well, hello Sicheng! District Seven, would you look at that!" His accent was thick and unrecognizable, maybe from somewhere outside of Panem... somehow. "Sicheng, tell me this: do you miss the forest or do you hate the outdoors? Be honest, we want to know!"

Sicheng made a sour expression, before remembering that he had to smile and put on his best face. He leaned into the microphone that Chris was holding out to him. "Oh, well... District Seven is home!" He smiled fakely. "But, the Capitol has been so gracious to me and my brot- my districtmate." Sicheng corrected quickly, trying his hardest to play up to the Capitol.

"So, do you prefer the Capitol?" Chris pressed on nosily.

Sicheng grimaced, replacing it with a pained grin. "No! Well, yes! Uh... Seven will always be home, I'm not sure I can choose a favorite." His voice trailed off nervously, but nobody seemed to notice.

Chris clapped in excitement. "Oh, we all love home, don't we? Ha!" He batted his eyes at the camera and Sicheng wondered if he should do the same.

"How did you feel when your name was called? You must've been afraid, no?" Chris continued, holding the microphone up again for Sicheng. He swallowed the lump in his throat and leaned forwards, nodding numbly.

"Yes. But it was..." Another lump in his throat blocked his words and he had to swallow that one too. "It was awful knowing I couldn't do anything... anything, uh..." Sicheng felt tears prickle at the corners of his eyes as reality settled in. "Knowing I couldn't save Renjun, no matter what I did. Since I was chosen right after him."

There was a hushed "aww" in the crowd, meant to be sympathetic but not doing anything except pissing Sicheng off farther. Their sympathies meant nothing.

Chris cooed quietly as well. "Well, I'm sure you two have many people at home rooting for you. Anyone special? A lover or family members or other siblings?"

Sicheng frowned, uncomfortable with the invasive and specific questioning, but he understood it was customary. "No, it's just us and our mother at home. We have a friend named Heeseung and sometimes I babysit him and his little brothers when his mother can't. Or at least... I did." He waved timidly at the camera with sad eyes as more Capitol people cooed sympathetically, as if on cue.

He was glad to be getting sympathy points, even if it was pathetic. Anything for Renjun, especially after that stunt he pulled earlier in the night.

But then a sickening nausea began to settle in Sicheng's stomach; He'd thrown Renjun around in anger and screamed at him in a fit of hysteria, but didn't stop to think what might happen after that.

Renjun, already scared of tomorrow, thrown against a wall. Where was he? Was he still with Lay or Yeonjun? Had he found any of the other tributes? Was he okay? In that moment Sicheng's brain ran away from him, guilt sweeping him away from reality.

"...have one last question for you: What will you do if you win the games, Mister Dong?"

Sicheng blinked in thought, head empty, slowly returning to reality from his own anxiety. He blinked quickly, heart pounding in his chest. He was afraid for Renjun, afraid because his brother could be anywhere right now.

"Uh... really, um, I don't know. I haven't thought that far." He whispered, just loud enough for his microphone clipped to his jacket to pick it up.

There was a cumulative chuckle from the audience, but Sicheng meant it. He hadn't planned that far at all, he barely knew what he'd do in the arena when he got there tomorrow.

Tomorrow.

Tomorrow.

There was an even tighter knot in Sicheng's stomach as Chris smiled and introduced him one last time. The words were a jumble in Sicheng's ears and the bright lights only blurred in his vision. As audience members clapped, it took everything in his strength to reach the backstage area. Lay noticed something was wrong and furrowed his brow.

"Are you okay?" He asked with a hushed voice as the District Eight boy -Hendery, was his name- passed without noticing them. Sicheng shook his head, bile in his throat, and Lay carried him to their waiting room. Yeonjun's eyes were still glued on the screen when they came back in. Sicheng practically wheezed now, only being held up by Lay. Yeonjun looked at him in alarm.

"Where's Renjun?" Sicheng asked, voice weak but panicked. Yeonjun twisted up his mouth in a frown.

"I don't know, darling. That's what we're trying to figure out." He replied softly, thought it made Sicheng feel even sicker.

He wanted to vomit. Something, as he walked off of that stage, didn't feel right. Something felt wrong, felt off.

Not only was he entering the Hunger Games in less than twenty-four hours, but he'd chased away his only brother...

His only ally, gone.