A Rebellious Spirit | Book III

Chapter Fifteen | The Favourites

Annie and Quinn didn't have much breathing room as they were loaded onto a truck like the ones that brought tributes to the train after the reaping. It wasn't all that cramped though, because they didn't need to share the seat with an escort. The drive was silent, it felt like the reaping in Four all over again. What were they supposed to say? Goodluck, I hope anyone but you gets reaped? If they did, that meant their odds were even higher of getting chosen. Just like before, they were both secretly hoping someone else was chosen-- even if that meant each other. Then again, Quinn still had her promise to Finnick...but would the same rules still apply to this reaping? Would volunteering even be allowed?

"Good luck," the driver turned in his seat as he stopped near the stage where a few other Victor's were being escorted up to the stage already. The driver had a smile on his face, he was genuinely excited for them-- he was clearly eager to see the outcome of the Third Quarter Quell. Quinn stared at him as Annie stepped out of the car, and Quinn followed close behind her.

Everything was busy. Decorations were already hung with the number seventy-five in bold, and under the number it read The Third Quarter Quell. The Panem flag was draped over the stage, and President Snow's podium had two bowls on either side. In front of the stage there were rows and rows of seats where in just a few hours, there would a tribute parade. The first few rows however, were roped off, and in the seats, Victors were being seated. Some of them were forcing themselves to look happy to see one another and chatting with the other Victors. It was all just for show, she knew that for a fact. But then there were a handful of Victors who sat quietly in a chair, maybe whispering to others who were doing the same.

Then all of the other seat, and the bleachers were full of Capitol citizens. Their hair an assortment of colors, and their clothes were just as bright with accessories to match that varied from size and color. Most of them probably say there, waiting anxiously, and hoping to hear their name, their child's name, their friends name-- they just wanted to know who the favourites were, Quinn hated them for that. But part of her just felt sorry for them, they were brainwashed-- they couldn't think for themselves.

Quinn seated herself next to Annie. Quinn was on the end of the row, and on the other side of Annie was Maeslee Becker. A Victor from District Two, she was in her thirties. Her face was stone hard, and she didn't look please to be there, her eyes stayed glued on the stage. Then a few rows back, sat Haymitch Abernathy from District Twelve. He had a good shot at being the favourite-- he won the second Quarter Quell, people probably would love to see him in another Quell.

Annie turned to look to see who Quinn was looking at. She smiled a bit and waved, "Hello, Haymitch."

He didn't really smile, but he didn't really frown either as he waved back. Quinn had met him once during her Victory tour. But he had been a drunken mess...

"Have you forgotten what it's like to be sober yet, Haymitch?" Finnick asked as the two of them approached the Victor after her speech was over.

Haymitch frowned, glaring at Finnick. "Don't lecture me," he sighed and then stuck out his hand to Quinn. She took it, and he gave it a rough shake, "You should try it, Four has some of the best boos I've ever had."

Finnick sighed, "Really, Haymitch?" he asked, "I thought the morphlings would be the ones I'd have to watch out for."

"No, the morphlings are still at the top of that watch list of yours," he replied, "Finnick here has had a list ever since he won, Victors to be friends with, and Victors stay away from-"

"-For my own health." Finnick added quickly, "Haymitch is the only exception."

"I'm great company." Haymitch said, sarcasm in his voice and a the smell of whiskey flowed from his mouth and Quinn had to bite her tongue to distract herself so she didn't look so repulsed.