Inhale

Chapter 24 - Good With People

An hour or so had elapsed, and I was sitting at my usual spot in the mess hall. Seeing as it was early in the morning, I was unaccompanied, which is fine by me: I prefer to gag in peace. However, a familiar figure joined me at the table, and he decided to claim the spot next to me.

"G'morning, Al," Phillip sang, scooting closer to me, "what's today's breakfast?"

"Rotten eggs and molding ham," I lied, lifting a forkful of the discolored dish at him, "want some?"

"Sure," he replied without a hint of sarcasm. He parted his lips, expecting me to feed him myself. I scowled, and shoved it into my own.

"I was kidding."

"I figured," he said, smiling in glee.

"Good morning," another voice yawned. We both peered up to see Esmae. To put it bluntly, she was a mess, inside out. Her shorts were unbuttoned and unzipped and her hazel eyes were red and dark circles arced underneath them. Her short, apricot hair was sticking up in all the wrong places, displaying to the world that she didn't give a fuck. She seemed to notice my gaze, and I diverted my sight away. Let's ignore her appearance for the day. She joined us at the table, smacking her lips in an attempt to wake herself.

"Looks like someone didn't get a lot of sleep last night," Phillip commented.

"I can't sleep when I'm under pressure," she explained, rubbing her eyes, "believe me, I tried—my roommate is my witness."'

"You have a roommate?"

"What kind of question is that, Phil?" she inquired, furrowing her brows. "Everyone has a roommate—I just don't mention mine because she's dumb."

"How so?" I inquired. "Is she mute or unintelligent?"

"I wish she was mute," she murmured, rolling her eyes, "she's just the complete opposite of me, which just irritates me. She's obsessed with her appearance and being "number one" and her hair sheds so much. I know it's hers, 'cause it's blonde and everywhere! Also, the way she dresses... it's barely in the dress code. She's always wearing these really tall chunky heels, and it makes her already tall height even more outrageously tall! And her tits..."

"Her tits?"

"They're so fake!" she exclaimed. "They're like gigantic balloons that are attached to her chest: they flop everywhere and attract so much attention. I swear, if she didn't get her boob job, she would be the same size as me."

"And be in the itty-bitty titty committee," Phillip added. She glared at him, and he shrugged. "What? I can't help it," he retorted. She rolled her eyes, and groaned.

"I'm just glad I don't have to see her outside of that room. Hopefully, I don't have to face her. I heard she's a monster."

"What's her name?" I asked.

"Ella-"

"Goooood morning, soldiers!" a girly, high-pitched voice sang on the intercom, interrupting our conversation. Silence filled the mess hall, and everyone seemingly tuned in to the unusual announcement. "As you all know, today is the second day of the PEPIT, which means one thing... it's time for the Preliminary Entrance tournament! Woo!" she cheered, sounding atrociously fake.

"She's annoying," I commented, "way too excited."

"That's Hanna Reid," Phillip stated, "she's the daughter of a high-ranking officer and cafeteria chef. She is surprisingly in the Infantry, despite being ridiculously weak. She lives in the officer wing with her dad and little sister."

"I'm not even going to ask how you know that," I responded him, "you're being a little bit too creepy." He shrugged, and the voice on the intercom came back.

"Now, I'm going to explain everything to all of you who are participating! Your name will be drawn and randomly paired with another recruit. and you will have a match with them. Your opponent will not necessarily be in your class, but there's still a small chance they will be, so keep that in mind. At most, your match will last fifteen minutes, but it can end within a minute depending on your strenght. However, since people are watching, try to make it last as long as possible and make it interesting! All your higher-ups will be tuning in to the battles, so please entertain us!"

"That's sick—we live for their entertainment."

"At least she's not lying," Phillip responded, "but really, everyone in the base watches the tournament."

"Freaky," Esmae commented, shuddering, "now I'm really under pressure!"

"If you win, your name will be placed into another jar to be reaped. If you lose, well, you're done for the day... but don't purposely lose! After five battles finish, the next two will be called, so tune in for that," Hanna explained. "All the battles will be shown in the broadcasting room, while individual battles can be seen in the room it's in. The four most exciting matches will be displayed in the mess hall! To vote on a match, please notify an officer! They'll relay the message to me, and I'll post it after twenty or so votes. If someone votes on your match, your score will increase, so that's just another reason to be exciting!"

"What are we? Reality TV?" I inquired. "They intend on using us as entertainment."

"Sounds like it," Esmae agreed, fidgeting some more, "it really does makes me feel even more awkward and self-conscious."

"Don't let it get to your head," Phillip stated, "all that matters is raking up points to get a good position!"

"But it's a popularity contest," I responded, "I'm not good with people."

"Just do this a lot," he replied, delivering a thumb up, "that's the sign people do to encourage people to vote—a lot of people do it."

"Oh yeah, I almost forgot something really important!" the girl on the intercom exclaimed. "If you fail to show up for your match after eight minutes have elapsed, your opponent automatically wins. Another person will begin the countdown and announce in that single room when time has finished, just so you know. Isn't that great?"

"Only ten minutes?"

"Only ten minutes," Phillip reassured.

"Totally unfair," Esmae complained.

"By the way, whoever wins the competition gets a complimentary dinner and the chance to go on a mission with the smartest person in your ranks!" Hanna sang.

"And who might that be?" I asked the intercom. Please don't be me—I don't want to go on a mission with a random stranger.

"And according to our records, that is Alastair Adair!"

"Whoa, you're the smartest person in our year?" Phillip asked, instantly perking up as he glanced at me. "That's so cool, Al!"

"Please do shut up."

"Now, I think I've said all I needed to say, which means... it's drawing time! Woo! Remember to report to your designated room once called! For our first battle of the day, we have a sweet and subtle match. In Room A in the Recruit's Hall secondary hallway, we have..." she trailed, as the rustling of paper could be heard in the background. Eventually it stopped, and she inhaled. Please don't be me. "Alastair Adair versus Bae Byeon!"

Of. Fucking. Course. Of course this was going to happen.

"You're the first person to be drawn, Al," Phillip restated, stating the obvious. "What were the chances of this happening?"

"You should get to your room," Esmae mentioned, "you don't want to get disqualified."

"Yeah, yeah," I murmured, getting up from the table and walking towards the doorway, "have fun you two."

"Good luck!" they cheered in unison. I sighed, and forced a smile back at them.

I'm going to need all the help I can get.

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(12/8/15): Well... here's the second segment. I had no idea what to put for the chapter, so please pardon that uncreative title. Anyway, thanks for reading and I hope you continue!