One Fell Swoop { A Banana Bus / Hunger Games Story }

Chapter Seven - Assessments

Assessment day, the day that makes or breaks your chance to get a sponsor. Evan and Jon were the earliest tributes there. They sat at the front of the waiting room, next to the sign that labelled their chairs as "District 1". Behind them were the two chairs for District 2, behind those were District 3 and so on.

Evan listened closely for the sound of approaching footsteps, once all the tributes were there he would be the first assessment. Those footsteps weren't coming yet, which kept Evan in disgusting anticipation. He already decided what he was going to use. Evan was going to spear every single dummy through the head, without fail. There was no margin for failure. He hadn't asked Jon what his plans were yet.

"Hey Jon, what are you going to-" Evan stopped at the sound of footsteps. The other tributes were filtering into the room. They starting to fill up the rows of seats, up to District 8. The last four districts were yet to come, then Evan would be called in.

He would never admit it in front of Jonathan, but Evan was terrified. He eyed Jon out the side of his eye. Evan's eyes trailed down the side of Jonathan's smooth, well taken care of skin. His eyes stopped at his hand, dangling just below the seat of the chair. Evan wanted nothing more than to grasp that hand in that instance. His fingers twitched with want, need.

As the rest of the tributes came in, Evan decided 'fuck it', and softly held Jonathan's hand in his own, their fingers entwining. He saw Jon's faint smile, and that was the only reassurance he needed in that moment.

Everything stood still.

The door swung open and a peacekeeper emerged. Evan's stomach dropped, he didn't want to leave Jon's side.

"Evan Fong, District 1," the man read out. Evan took a deep breath, trying to calm his persistent nerves. He slowly let go and composed himself. Now that he was standing, the other tributes could see him and Evan couldn't afford to let any weakness shine through. He took heavy steps towards the peacekeeper, straightening his back. As he stepped through the door, he got one last glance at Jonathan. His cheeks were rosy and a calming smile was painted on his face, directed only at Evan.

The door closed behind Evan and he faced forward. Soon he found himself in the centre of the training room, only everything was more in order and the dummies had all been replaced so none had any piercings in them.

"Evan Fong, you will have 10 minutes to show us what you can do. Choose one item of your choice, demonstrate your skill, then you will be allowed to return to your room and await your result," a tall woman spoke from above him. All the judges were relaxing on a balcony, eating and drinking and laughing and being free. How dare they be free when Evan was stuck down there? Fuck it, when all the tributes were stuck in the Capitol, on a death schedule. Was he starting to regret volunteering? No...he needed to be here to protect Jonathan, to ensure his survival.

For him.

Evan picked up a spear. He was going to give them the best fucking show they've ever seen.

***

The tributes before him slowly trickled into the training room situated just behind the looming doors. Craig did not have many tributes in front of him, so he was even more nervous than the tributes behind him. So far, everyone who has gone before Craig has been very physically orientated, while Craig's genius was in his mind. Would the judges get bored of him too quickly? No, if they can sit through the District 2 tribute's assessments, they can sit through him.

As mean as it was, Craig couldn't help but jump on the hateful bandwagon directed at the District 2 men. There were boys here that were weaker than those two, but it was so strange and foreign to not have strong people from a career district. The disdain Craig felt for them made Craig feel occasional twangs of guilt, so he was just going to avoid them.