the ballad of desolation

5. SONGBIRD AND A COAL MINER

EFFIE BECKONS FOR ISAAC AND ME TO JOIN HER AND HAYMITCH IN THE DINING CAR FOR BREAKFAST. Somehow, Effie is already in her wig, white makeup, and a bright blue glittery outfit with tall heels on. Compared to the rest of us, she looks like a highlighter. And that's coming from me; a bard.

As expected, Haymitch is making some serious eye contact with some clear liquid sitting in his glass, probably vodka, and shoving around a biscuit and an abundance of gravy with his fork. His hair is a messy dark brown mosaic of curls and just frizz, dark rings under his eyes show off his cloudy, Seam-gray eyes.

While the other two adults sit at the table, one eating gracefully and the other hunched over his plate, sits little Isaac, scarfing down food like someone's going to rob him of his feast. He at least looks well-rested. His long brown hair combed through with his fingers to the looks of it and his napkin tucked into the collar of his shirt. He gives me a small wave when I walk into the car before looking around hurriedly, making sure his food stays safe. Unfortunately, I know what it's like. In Twelve, it's survival of the fittest. The food you find is a ration. See someone looking? Eat it quickly, stash it, or scurry away; like feral animals.

"So...Haymitch, how do we, like- how can we stay alive in the arena?" Isaac forces out, a small crack in his voice makes his face flush.

"Try not to die-"

"No shit. What's good advice?" I break through the rest of Haymitch's words. He raises an eyebrow, taking a big sip of his drink.

"No need to be hostile there, honey," he mumbles, eyes widening slightly in annoyance. "So, they want actors, performers, people to give them a reason to want to sponsor you. I'm assuming that for you two it won't be all that hard to give a pretty smile or something. You gotta realize how much any food and water can either help or completely jeopardize you. No in-between," he lists.

Wow. I wasn't aware the drunk could be wise, I say in my head.

"Not that hard, is it?" I snark, shoving food in my mouth, making a point to lose my table manners. Effie just sighs and pats the corners of her mouth with her napkin.

"Have you two settled in all right?" She asks, pushing a loose napkin towards me subtly. I would thank her for it, but Effie doesn't do subtle. All eyes are on the napkin tucked under a pale manicured hand.

"I've settled fine," Isaac mumbles, tearing his gaze away from the napkin.

"Wonderful...just wonderful," Effie says, forcing a smile and nervous chuckle pulls at her pale blue painted lips.

"There's the mighty Capitol for ya'," Haymitch mutters behind Isaac and I standing near the window.

"The sky is so bright here. Look, Jo! Look at all the people! They're waving for us!" Isaac marveled, waving at the Capitolites at the train station.

A crowd of bright colors. Almost a rainbow. It would've been prettier to admire if the thought of these people watching my death didn't linger in my mind.

Like the performer I am, I smile and wave and blow kisses until I'm being hauled into another car and waking up on a cold table with a thin paper gown over my body. Bright and pasty people surrounded me, carrying hair products and makeup along with some cubes of wax and ladles. After a moment of hazy confusion, I'm coaxed to lie back down again by a woman. Her blue bangs blend into her long brown hair, her eyes coated with white eyelashes, and a neon blue covering her eyelids, a bright pink blended with it, nearly in her eyebrows!

"My name is Catori. Now, I'm not your main stylist, but I'll be taking care of you with my team for the time being, okay?" I give her a meek nod and smile, lifting my head, trying to catch a glance and the people putting the warm wax on my cold legs.