The 65th Hunger Games - EDITING

Chapter forty-nine

 I'm seating at the table, between President Snow and Orion Deimos, the head game maker. These men are both responsible for what happened in the arena. I keep looking right in front of, refusing to look at either one of the two murderers beside me. The lady across me must think that I'm looking at her because she keeps giggling and looking away, blushing. On the other hand, her friend seating beside her doesn't look as excited as her about the situation; jealousy maybe?

"So, Mr. Odair, I heard you are going back to district four in two days."

I turn my head to face President Snow, an action that I immediately regret. His eyes seem to be going through my soul, searching for every little imperfection, learning about every little secret.

"Tonight, actually. It was decided that I should do the trip overnight. I have already done every interview I had to do, so they didn't think I should stay here any longer." I answer, looking down at my plate to avoid looking into his piercing eyes.

"Oh, really. You must be really excited. Who exactly decided of that?"

As I'm about to answer that I don't know, I realize that this question was not meant for me. On my right, I see that Orion is thinking about an answer.

"The mentor requested it, sir. Since he did all of his interviews during the past few days, we authorized his early departure." he answers, visibly anxious.

"We? Tell me exactly, Mr. Deimos, who exactly is we?"

The tone Snow used clearly indicates that he is not happy about the situation. The head game maker definitely is in trouble and he knows it.

"Me, sir. I'm the one who authorized it." he answers, looking at his plate, just like me.

"This discussion is not over; we will talk about this later. Mr. Odair, I hope your trip back to district four is as pleasant as your presence here is."

"Thank you." I whisper while playing with my food, hoping this marks the end of this very awkward conversation.

The rest of the dinner happens without any more incidents. The circular shape of the table makes any form of conversation hard and I'm so grateful for this. People have tried to talk to me on multiple occasions, but I'm pretty sure they all realised it was too hard to have a decent conversation without screaming, which would be considered rude. No one has said a word to me in about ten minutes and they're chatting with one another. I can feel the tension between Snow and Orion; I don't know what is going to happen to him or even to Mags for asking such a thing. Since she's a victor, I highly doubt they'll hurt her; it would upset the citizens.

"Since everyone has finished eating, I suggest that we all move to the adjacent room where we will be able to talk freely." says Snow, firmly and loudly enough for everyone to hear him, clearly indicating that there is no other option. "Mr. Deimos, please stay here." he adds quietly, so that only me and Orion hears him.

I can hear him breathing heavily; he knows he did something wrong and that he's about to pay for this. I don't have time to put much thought into it; I get up and follow the flow to a very large living room. It's probably as big as my house. Like the rest of the house, it is very modern and chic. There are a few couches around the room, but no one really sits on them. They all gather in small groups of three or four and start talking, a glass of alcohol in the hand. I'm pretty sure I'm supposed to go from a group to another so that's what I do; after all, most of them are sponsors that contributed to my survival. I walk to the first group on my right. The woman that was sitting in front of me immediately joins it and start acting as if she was part of it before I arrived which only seems to annoy everyone else.

"Hello, Finnick!" she shouts in a very squeaky voice, ignoring the angry looks sent her way for stealing the spotlight. "I was really excited to meet you. I feel like we didn't have enough time to talk earlier."

"Yeah..." I answer with a polite smile, not knowing what else to say.

"I was really hoping you would be crowned victor, you know. Since the Reaping I knew that you were a special one."

"Well thank you, ma'am."

"Oh, you can call me Chandra, my dear."

She touches my arm for a weirdly long amount of time, laughing. Unsure of what I'm supposed to answer or do, I just keep on smiling. I'm starting to feel really uncomfortable. Luckily, an occasion to slip away arrives when the door opens wide and President Snow enters the room, alone. All heads turn towards him as a lot of people seems to be wondering where the head game maker is.

"Sadly, Mr. Deimos had to leave early and will not return. There was some kind of emergency. I'm sorry for this inconvenience." He says, looking right into my eyes.

It's as if he sucked all of the oxygen out of my lungs and I forgot how tobreathe. In more ways than I thought, even after the arena, the games are notover. Only, now the rules are different and if I don't follow them, I don'tknow who could be hurt. A head game maker is easy to replace, especially onethat has been here for only a year. I'm sure that's what happened to the onefrom last year; they just disposed of him after everyone in the Capitol wasdeceived. A victor is much harder to replace, so I have no doubt that Iwouldn't be the one who disappeared. However, people like my parents, oreven my best friend, are much easier to erase. I look away, notbeing able to hold it anymore. I can still feel his eyes on my back, but I tryto ignore it and go back to the conversation; I'm trying to show that I'mplaying his game. I just hope it's not too late.