Stay Alive (A Hunger Games Fanfic)

Chapter 6

Breakfast is the most fun I've had since, well, since the start of this whole thing. The Reaping. I'm sitting at the long, wooden dining table with Effie, Maysilee, Eloise, Lon, Arial, and the other stylists.

"How is everyone feeling?"

"Eh" is Lon's only response.

For some reason, I find this hilarious, and burst into hysterics. That's not like me at all. I must be very tired. I didn't sleep well last night because I was thinking too much about the Opening Ceremony that had just happened before then. Well, that and one other thing, which would be Maysilee. How embarrassing. I can't seem to get her long, blonde hair and sharp, bright eyes out of my mind.

I shouldn't even be thinking about her at all, really. First of all, we're going to be thrown into an arena which guarantees at least one of our deaths, if not both. Second, I'm HAYMITCH, for God's sake. This ruins my pride, my ego. I'm not soft, I'm strong.

Anyways, even though I had that stupid outburst of laughter, everyone else joins in. Well, everyone except Effie, who fidgets nervously in her seat, but I can tell she's suppressing a smile. I guess we're all feeling the effects from last night. Still, it feels good to relieve tension, even if it is the calm before the storm.

Breakfast was filling. I'm sad to credit anything beneficial to the Capitol, but anyone would admit, the food's good and plentiful. We talk, laugh, and have a fairly good time, but then have to shift our focus to the most important matter at hand: the Games.

Effie, who has finally let go of her self-consciousness or whatever it was, calms herself and begins to speak.

"In all seriousness, the Interview is tonight."

"She's right," Avire, one of the stylists says. "And we have your outfits planned out accordingly."

Arial smirks. I wonder what they have up their sleeves.

--

I go to my room and think for a while. About the Interview, about the Games, about Maysilee.

I already have my plan for the Interview tonight. Same as before. Arrogant. Indifferent.

The Games, I'm still skeptical. I have NO idea what the arena's going to be like. I have yet to figure out a way to show the true colors of the Gamemakers and the Capitol in general: stupidness. But I'll make sure to do it. It's one if my top priorities.

Maysilee. Why do I keep thinking about her? I don't love her. That's for sure. She's pretty, but what else intrigues me about her? Her determination. Confidence. That's what. I conclude that all this is just hormones. And a slight crush.

And I mean SLIGHT.

...I hope.

--

Again, I'm lying on a table being manhandled with the rock soap that scratches and burns my skin. Ouch. I clench my fists but again don't utter a sound of pain.

"Now that you're clean, you're actually very handsome!" says Fyora.

"I agree!"

That comes from Lora. Seriously, do they always have to act the exact same way or something? Why do they always have to screech? Are they stupid? Oh right, the answer is yes. Always yes when it comes to the creatures of the Capitol.

"Arial will be ready to see you now." says Lucius, and then leaves.

I'm happy that didn't come out as a scream.

I put my robe on, sit down in the nearest chair, and wait for Arial.

She walks in with the same green hair and eyes and white face, and sits down across from me.