Reputation (Finnick Odair)

Chapter 2

     Atlas wakes in a cold sweat, shooting up in bed. Images of Finnick and her sister flood her mind, the scenes of their deaths still ingrained in her mind. She flops backwards onto the bed, moving the blanket off of her and trying to calm her breathing. She lay in the bed just staring up at the ceiling. It would be easier if she didn't have to leave this room, as opposed to it as she is. She could just lay here forever. If she never got up, she would never have to face the capitol again and she wouldn't have to die. She takes a second to let her eyes adjust to the darkness, thinking of the battleground laying just outside her door. The arena laying outside her door was probably more deadly than the one she'd be trapped in a few days later. In all honesty, she didn't want to go out and see the other people on the train. She knew they were arriving soon and the sooner she left her bedroom, the sooner she would be forced to face the harsh reality that she was going back into the games. 

     She pulls herself out of bed and moves to the closet, slipping on a random red sweater that was sitting at the front of the closet. It's knitted with long sleeves and soft lining on the inside. The sleeves bell out around her wrists. The shirt does little to warm the chills that racked her body as she nears the exit. She pulls on her shoes and grabs Mars's ring before opening her door and stepping into the hall. The train is eerily quiet, the only sound being the faint one of the train sliding against the tracks. The girl makes her way down the hall towards the dining room, hoping whatever animosity from the night before would keep breakfast quiet. 

     As the girl steps into the room, the first thing she notices is the sheer lack of red stains splashed across the room. The tablecloth has been changed, the chairs have been pushed back towards the table, the stab mark from the knife in the table is nowhere to be seen and the most surprising thing of all is the people sitting at the table, mentor, tribute and escort alike, sat together in what seems to be a pleasant, but quiet, conversation. Atlas pulls out the seat next to Mars, across from Apricot and diagonal from Olympia, watching the trio warily. She sits down and grabs a piece of toast, listening to what the three are saying.

     "I think it's beautiful," Apricot says surely, buttering the toast in her hand delicately.

     "Beautiful bullshit," Mars replies, his teeth tearing through the piece of bacon in his hand, "I mean, how can you believe any of it when it clearly benefitted them so much?" 

     "By benefited do you mean helped them keep their love alive?" Apricot asks, the feathers on the end of her lashes shaking slightly.

     "I meant it kept them alive."

     Apricot rolls her eyes, "Believe what you want to believe Mars but I think you would be the only person in all of Panem to think that."

     Atlas finally opens her mouth to interject, "Are we talking about district 12's kids?" 

     When Apricot nods, Atlas grimaces and abandons her half-eaten toast on the white tablecloth, "Can we not?"

     Apricot furrows her bright pink eyebrows, her blue-tinted lips pursing, "Oh, I forgot they knew your sister. A smart girl that one was. Shame you had to watch her die."

    Olympia and Mars both widen their eyes, anticipating the redhead to lash out in response but instead, the girl gives a humourless laugh, "Imagine how it felt to be her mentor." 

     With that, she reaches forward and grabs a mug of whatever from the centre and takes a sip, relishing in the bitterness of the coffee as it flows down her throat. She sets the mug down and bites into an apple she plucks from a bowl, a bit of juice running down her chin. She goes to wipe it off and notices Olympia staring at her with a sad look on her face, the dark circles under her eyes clearly evident. The other two have gone back to eating and potentially arguing about the capitol again but Olympia sits with a far-away look on her face and drooping eyes. As Atlas locks eyes with the older girl, she raises her eyebrows, asking Olympia a silent question. Olympia gives an almost imperceptible shrug of her shoulders and Atlas slumps.