" 𝔦'𝔪 𝔞 𝔰𝔲𝔯𝔳𝔦𝔳𝔬𝔯 "
✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ:*
In an attempt to save her sister, and survive
the Hunger Games, Rowan Everdeen meets
Cato Hadley, the murderous boy from
District 2 who might be just what she
...
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" where's your crown, darling? "
rowan's view
ℑwanted to speak my mind. I had so many words on the tip of my tongue, acid I was ready to throw at anyone who would listen, even if it wasn't their fault. I had a revolution boiling in my stomach, it had been there since the second my sister was reaped. I wanted to speak out. But the tribute interviews were not the place to do it.
I could feel each passing hour pressing up against my chest, weighing down on me like a death sentence. I could still remember the gazes clinging to me as I stood in the chariot, being pulled by those horses. The thought of facing it again...
"Tonight are the tribute interviews. They're going to introduce you to the world." My gaze, which had been previously glued to the polished marble floor, snapped up to look at Haymitch, only to find him already staring at me pointedly. His hands were folded in his lap, but his posture was terrible, and his words slurred just enough to tell me that he had already had his morning bottle of bourbon.
And then there was Peeta, who was sitting next to me on the couch, though he was as far away from me as possible. He barely said anything to me after the scores were announced, and I had to find out from Haymitch that he now wanted to be trained separately from me. In fact, the only reason we were in the same room was because Haymitch was explaining the interviews to us, as if we didn't already know. Just the thought of it made me grit my teeth together, as it was now looking like I was going to have to go it alone in the Arena.
Peeta said nothing in response to Haymitch's statement, so I gently raised my hand, gesturing for our mentor to continue. In response, Haymitch rolled his eyes, leaning back in his chair. "Caesar's a princess, even more than you-" Haymitch gave me a pointed glance. "-so if you give him even a tiny bit of gossip, he'll drag it out the whole interview." I saw no way that those two statements could fit together, so I assumed it was the bourbon talking.
"You're also from District 12, so you're both going last, which gives you a better chance at making a lasting impression. Which will get you sponsors."
"I don't need to go last to make an impression." I had mumbled it, but both men heard me.
Haymitch gave me a sharp look, and my lips pursed, all words on the tip of my tongue dying. "I'll train you, Rowan, for the first half of the day, while Peeta preps with Portia, and you'll prep while Peeta and I train." He was talking to me; he always talked to me.
I nodded in sync with Peeta, both of us having become more solemn and reserved since our scores were announced, and everything became much more real. In fact, since I had had my encounter with Cato the night before, I had hardly said anything to anyone myself. My hair hung in horrifying strings that were going to be a pain for Cinna to clean up, and I could tell there were bags under my eyes without looking in the mirror.
