The Book of Haymitch: An ONC 2024 Hunger Games Fanfiction

Chapter 3

At the railway station, we're greeted by reporters and flashing cameras as they broadcast us boarding the train. 

I trail as far behind the group as the Peacekeepers allow, observing Belladonna and Effie Trinket bask in the attention like two prize-winning peacocks, when someone from Capitol News shoves a microphone in my face. "Haymitch, how do you feel being one of the lucky Tributes chosen for the Second Quarter Quell?"

I want to roll my eyes at the audacity, but force a smile instead. "It's every teenager's dream. I can't wait to see all the creative ways they're going to try and kill me."

She grins as if I'm serious.

Once we're inside, it's not how I imagined. Intricately carved wooden furnishings adorned with fine porcelain, and carpets so plush it's like walking barefoot through the grass. It's hard to believe it's not a dream.

"Beautiful, isn't it?" Belladonna says as we take everything in. "If you think this is special, just wait until you see your penthouse at the Training Center. The panoramic view alone will take your breath away!"

Before we eat, she shows us to our chambers where we're expected to "wash away District 12" before dinner. We each have our own bedroom and private bathroom with an imposing rosewood dresser filled with more clothes than I could wear in a year.

After my first warm shower—a convenience I'm not sure I enjoyed—I pull Laurel's present from my pocket and turn it over in my hands. It smells like her. Eastern White Pine and a sprawling field of wildflowers.

I haven't even been gone for an hour and already I'm homesick. Who'd have thought I'd miss the Seam? The people, yes. Especially my family and Laurel. But District 12—with its harsh living conditions and limited resources? The struggle every day just to stay alive. Still...it's home. Even the cold baths aren't so bad now that I have something to compare them to. At least when you're finished you feel clean. The warm water here, the fancy soaps and fragrant lotions, leave me feeling dirtier than when I hopped in.

True to Belladonna's word, a feast decadent enough to feed President Snow waits for us in the dining car, the name of each dish labeled on a bordered card with fancy writing. My mouth waters, but I'm not sure if it's because I've never seen so much food, or the fact that it's President Snow-approved and makes me sick.

I'm a lot of things, but my mama didn't raise a fool.

Scooting my chair to the table, I don't wait for the go-ahead before I fill up my plate. When our escort arrives with the other freshly-showered Tributes, I'm elbow deep in Citrus-glazed Smoked Salmon with Snow Pea Pasta and Pomegranate Sorbet, the vibrant flavors exploding across my tongue with every bite.

"Do you plan on saving anything for the rest of us?" Maysilee asks as she plops into the chair beside me.

I chew with my mouth open for no other reason than to annoy her. "If you hurry, I'll spare a few crumbs."

"You didn't even spread a napkin onto your lap," Effie scolds from her mother's side.

"Just be thankful I'm using utensils, sweetheart." I don't bother looking up as I stab my fork into a Truffle-infused Mushroom.

Belladonna pulls a chair out for Cinder and prompts her to sit, while pointing Thorne to the seat across from me. "We'll have plenty of time to master napkin etiquette once we're in the Capitol. Tonight, let's enjoy ourselves and get to know each other. How does that sound?"

"What will happen to that boy?" Cinder asks with a blank stare.

Belladonna takes her place at the head of the table. "Which boy is that, dear?"