The Great War.

VIII

"Crimson Rage."

I arrive at our floor in less than a minute and look for something to eat. I hadn't had lunch before my private session, and I feel like I'm about to faint. Lauren is in the common room, and as soon as she sees me, she bombards me with a thousand questions about my demonstration. I decide to give her a brief overview of what I did, and she listens with a smile on her face.

I have to retell the story when Brutus and Enobaria enter, affirming that we will undoubtedly score the highest this year. Our allies may have been trained similarly to us, but there's something special about District 2—something that sets us apart, something that makes us better.

The scale by which the tributes' abilities are measured ranges from one to twelve, with "one" being completely humiliating and "twelve" being nearly unattainable. Since the audience cannot see the training, the tributes' rankings are announced by the Gamemakers to give the audience a starting point for their bets, which will continue throughout the games. Although the score does not guarantee who will win, it is something that the mentors use to attract sponsors and convince them to bet on their tributes.

The crowd in the common room disperses once the clock strikes three in the afternoon. The scores will be televised during dinner time, so we have the afternoon free. The boy from District 11 has declined our invitation to join the career alliance, Brutus says before going to his bed, and I somehow already knew it. He wouldn't trust us that easily. We would have to get rid of him as soon as possible. For somewhat obvious reasons, I know that i won't be the one who kills him, but one of my allies will.

I'll use this free time to sneak into Enobaria's room, as it has become a habit, so we can discuss strategies. We talk for a long time about the strategies I will use from now on. The only thing that separates me from the arena at this moment are the interviews, where I will have to present myself with a tough yet likable personality. I have to be charismatic enough to attract the audience, but at the same time, I have to make it clear that I came to win, that I have the skills to do so, and that no one is a competition for me. I find myself working with a complex personality. I haven't set foot in the games yet, but I feel my sanity fading away as the days go by.

The tactics that target the psyche, not only of the Capitol population but also of my allies, consumes my mind little by little. I have to behave differently with absolutely everyone, and that is exhausting. My head hurts all the time, and I can't shut my thoughts out.

I was never one to make many friends. I kept my interactions with my trainers in the training facility to a minimum, and we just talked about how to get better at fighting. Now, I have to interact with at least a dozen different people every day, each of whom gets a customized version of me in an effort to get inside their heads and take advantage of their vulnerabilities.

The only thing they all have in common is that they know a part of my arrogant and haughty personality. I do this so they don't forget who they're dealing with. Despite the fact that I treat everyone well, especially Glimmer and Tara, I'm not there to make friends. I doubt they truly trust me, but at least I'm slowly discovering things that will be useful for the games. Both of them are a bit absent-minded and slow to react. They get lost in their own thoughts, just like I do. I could easily catch them off guard.

Marvel hides his weaknesses well because I can't figure them out. The good thing is that he's willing to do things for me, so hopefully I won't have to set up my own traps for a while. His sense of humor and ability to engage in conversations make his company enjoyable. Deep down, I hope I don't have to kill him in the arena. I'm capable of doing it, but just thinking about it leaves a bitter taste in my mouth.

Cato's mood is completely unpredictable. He can go from being calm to absolutely mental in a matter of seconds. It's dangerous, and I'm aware that I'm not safe around him in the arena. I've been keeping a cautious distance from him ever since the night he sneaked into my room. On that occasion, he had a playful and almost likeable personality, but from the next morning onward, we only exchanged greetings during breakfast and after dinner. He doesn't talk much, and neither do I.