Hunger Games | Pre-Game Bonus

Aidan Vekoslav

The thing that I hate the most about Training Show is the judging eyes of the promoters. They could’ve install a one way mirror on the lounge side, but the gamemakers decide to put a completely transparent glass for both side. They probably want to make us as aware as possible. But it did nothing but intimidate us.

I stepped into the big training room in my obsidian sport uniform along with the others. There was no rule about which challenge we should be training at a time, and some of the tributes had already jogged to the posts they knew they want to train in for today.

I threw my gaze at the weight-lifting post. My feet ached to walk to that station. I could probably impress the sponsors with that skill. Then I remember what my mentor said.

“Agility is under the spotlight right now. The quicker the person is, the more likely they will stay alive,” he had said. “They would want to think that their aid towards the tribute they choose will not go to waste, wouldn’t they?”

I turned around to gaze at the running post. A few tributes have already lined up in front of the two tracks. Leonidas and Alistair were also there, lining up in the same track. I’ve befriended a few tributes from other states, but seeing ones from the same states have always made me feel more comfortable.

I watched as a girl from State 5 and Hendrik from State 6 ran down the circular tracks. The circuit was as big as the training grounds itself, outlining all of the training posts. Hendrik looked like he was holding back, as if he was overestimating himself for running against a girl. Though the girl was trying so hard, falling behind a few inches from her opponent, she didn’t seem to pay attention to the spectacled boy.

Upon nearing the finish line, she seemed to be adding more speed towards her. I focused on her feet, running in rhythm, trying not to get distracted by her swaying ponytail. It was hard to determine whether she had outran Hendrik or not, but Hendrik had started to pay attention to her. From the way I saw him, Hendrik was catching his breath. He must’ve ran out of stamina.

The girl barely won. But when she crossed the finish line just milliseconds before Hendrik did, a grin grew on her salmon lips. The coach seemed to smile as he mentioned her time. I could sense the shame from Hendrik’s face. He might have lost some potential sponsors today, but who were there to blame?

“Good job, Eleanora!” another girl from the first track shouted at her, smiling even wider than the victor did.

I took a mental note of her name. It might be useful later.

I waited for my turn, occasionally chatting with Alistair who was lining up in front of me. When I stood in front of the starting line, I glanced at the tribute next to me. I couldn’t remember his name, but I remember seeing him on the State 6’s cart, State of Politics.

He stretched his legs several times, his eyes were looking down at the ground. He looked nervous, which was quite uncommon for State 6 kids. Most of them are usually cocky as hell, saving no room for anxiety at all.

But he was different. At least that’s what I was seeing.

Somebody called his name—Ravi. I took a note of that while watching him smiling back at the caller, waving. The nervousness was gone from his face for a while.

“Position!”

I crouched down, the way I’ve been trained during my whole live in Military State. My eyes were pinned on the track in front of me. I emptied my mind, calmed my breathing. I tried not to think about the eyes of the promoters, watching all of us from the terrace. Watching me.

“Go!”

I ran. I didn’t start quickly at first, I was getting behind Ravi easily. He didn’t seem to care about his surroundings anyway, didn’t seem to care about me as his opponent. So I kept adding my speed a little at a time, until I caught up to him.