CLOVE'S POV
Finally. All done. That finishes up the last of my speeches.
It took me more than six weeks of my own time away from the foundries to get these drafts done. I had to force myself to stay awake through the night multiple times just so that I could stay on schedule and not have to worry about falling behind. I didn't even get nearly as much time off to go to the foundries or out to the range with Cato for some fun time. I feel like a mindless cyborg controlled by an unrelenting central processing unit that grinds through hundreds of commands without stopping.
That's probably not a good thing. Enobaria will probably want me up and fully vitalized for tomorrow. Real victors are supposed energetic and bubbly during the Tour. That's just not me right now.
I have no doubt in my mind that the prep teams will show up and walk me through make-up and dresses all over again. They probably picked out more then twenty different dresses for me to try on. Even if I have something decent to wear on the Tour, I don't look forward to walking in 5-inch heels and possibly rolling my ankle in the process. Cleo will probably show up and make mindless gossip about the lastest Capitol trends as I let her useless prattle slip in one ear and out the other. Not to mention that I would almost rather pull my hair out than have to re-rehearse how to walk. It's even more frustrating than dealing with my prep team.
As I expected before tomorrow, the monitor in my room buzzes and signals a message:
Be ready for rehearsal day tomorrow.
There's no doubt in my mind that it came from our mentors.
I turn off the monitor and decide to call it quits for the night, knowing how much energy I will need to get through rehearsal day. It still plagues me that this is only a practice; the real thing will probably be a living nightmare.
As I turn off my light and try to go to sleep, Cato pops back into my thoughts. I know what I must do about him in order to survive.
If he tries to reconcile our differences, he'll go to inordinate lengths to make it happen. He'll try anything: pleading, bribes, maybe even self-sacrifice. He'll make a fool of himself and everyone will see him for what he really is: a big fat meanie. He'll say the wrong thing at the wrong time and make everyone in the other districts angry. The Capitol won't hesitate to crush him after he screws up trying to please me. Excellent.
There's still the possibility that he's thinking the same thing. Even if he really does like me, he could still be dangerous. He could have taken the time to do the exact same thing as me and make me look like the perpetrator of this mess. If he does that, I'm totally screwed. The Capitol would react more favorably toward him if he deliberately tries to sabotage me. I'm the one already in trouble with Snow.
Maybe I'm better off just letting it go altogther...that would probably be the best thing for both of us...
Naah, screw it. He's going in the dead book.
*************
THIRD PERSON POV
Clove lies in bed, tossing and turning as she falls victim to a series of quick but painful headaches, preventing her from going back to sleep. She tries painkiller, ice, anything--nothing helps.
CLOVE'S POV
Another splitting headache courses through my optic nerves and sends my hyperactive thought process into a total tailspin.
The pain is just...I can't even sleep...
It's only 1AM right now and I have a bad headache right now...
![](https://img.wattpad.com/cover/6168946-288-k528551.jpg)
YOU ARE READING
The Hunger Games: Entropy (A Clato Fanfiction: NTI Series, Book 2)
FanfictionClove and Cato both won the 74th annual Hunger Games, despite the Treaty of the Treason only allowing one victor. As a result, both of them have fame, fortune, and not a care in the world for the rest of their lives. What more could either of them a...