The Price of Fame and Fortune (Hunger Games)

20

I felt Liam stop beside me in appreciation of the door. I bit my lip from behind him and subtly put on my shoes that I'd left carelessly on the forest floor. He snorted in amusment before exiting the arena. Leaving a thunder like clap in his wake. He didn't even hesitate before walking through it causally with his trident under his arm.

I wasn't so at ease. That paddock is super small and tributes could easily be be hiding behind any door. Needless to say, my axe was raised as I entered the felid.

I watched as Liam's brow cresed in confusion at the many numbered doors surrounding us. His eyes lingered on door number 70 before he shook his head and turned to me expectantly. "Which one?"

Oh...I have no idea. Infact, as I looked around at the many numbers staring me down I frowned. Shit. "I-uh I don't know".

Liam tusked and twirled his trident as he examined a few doors uncaringly. "Would he be in Blight's arena?".

Blight's arena?...possibly. Only..."I don't know what games Blight won".

Liam paused mid swing of his trident and tipped his head at me. "Your kidding me, right?".

I scoffed. "No. It never really mattered before now. I mean he's old-ish so maybe somehwere between...doors 45-60?". And even then it's a guess.

Liam shook his head. "I'm not searching fifteen whole arenas for Trent Perry of all people".

I frowned. "Well, I'm not sticking with you unless you agree to help me find Trent. Which you promised to do".

Liam smirked at me condecendigly. "I wonder who'd win in a fight to the death. Liam Odair? or pretty little Victoria Mason?".

I gripped my axe tighter. "Watch it Odair. Otherwise you might just find yourself without a head. And unlike your mum I won't go insane at the sight of it".

That struck a nerve. He pointed his trident at me and I saw anger swirl in those sea green eyes. He smirked. "I'd kill you faster".

I scoffed. "I've seen you train, I'm better".

Lie. I'm equally as good. Not better and not worse. Evenly matched. 

He surprised me by invading my personal space and lightly brushed a piece of my hair behind my ear. "Prove it". 

I could see the hate in his eyes. He hates me. Maybe because I'm just as famous or the fact that we're equally matched. After that comment about his mother I'd say I've tipped him to loathing point. But we're allies. And this right here is make or break. Kill eachother or keep hating eachother until it's just as and then, like a sweet reward we'll kill the other. But only at the very end. 

I smirked. "I'd hate to give you the satisfaction. Besides I'd rather wait it out".

He shrugged. "Suit yourself".

So it's decided we'll continue the hate fest while Johanna, Finnick and Annie can take comfort in the fact that we'll live to see another day. 

He took a step back and observed the surrounding doors before he shook his head. I watched as he took only two steps before opening door 75. Instantly, I cringed at the thunder like sound before pulling on his arm in frustration. "Are you crazy!?!".

He merely chuckled and rose his eyebrows at me. "Not that I know of".

I frowned and indicated to the dreaded number on the door. "The last Quell?. Trent's not that stupid".

He smirked. "Oh we're not going in there for Trent".

I scoffed. "Then why would we go into one of the most deadliest arenas in history?".

He tipped his head at me and gave me a look that I'd seen him give in many district four promos. "Trust me, you won't die yet. Not in there anyways".

I crossed my arms and gave him a warning look. "Then why go in there if not to kill me?".

He scoffed and shook his head. "You know Mason, you've got serious trust issues".

I bit my lip. Whatever. "No I don't".

He shook his head in amusement. "Yes you do. Trust eachother, remember?".

I frowned as he walked straight into the arena leaving me alone. In an empty paddock, gripping my axe while staring at the number 75 in caution. Nope. I'm not doing it.  Yet, standing alone made me shiver. Alone in the hungergames? Or in the hungergames with an ally to protect my back?...

Fuck!.

I rolled my eyes before opening the door and falling onto a beach, thunder blasting around me as I did so. 

It's...pretty. I frowned at the arena before me. Randomly behind me is a white wooden door on the sand. Behind me, dreaded sections of a jungle I know better to go walking in. In front of me, a rock like structure, representing the cornucopia. The clock arena. The sea was beautiful. In the middle of it were dreaded rocks on top of a silver table. The weapon used by the twelve year old who won the seventy-fifth games. 

I bit my lip as I watched Liam expertly dive into the water. Twenty-three twelve year-olds had died here. I shuddered. "This is a graveyard". 

I didn't mean to say it out loud. After all, the game makers and Capitol citizens are probably getting a kick out of this. But this place? To the districts it's something we never talk about. A taboo. The Victor, the youngest ever. Wallet Price, District One committed suicide before their victory tour. It more or less proved that twelve is too young. Something we all knew deep down but it was a bad year for Panem. A bad year for the districts....bad for everyone involved. 

Yet Liam swims expertly in the crystal blue water. Like he's part fish, at one point I thought he'd drowned only for his head to pop back up. His hair sparkling just like the water in which he moved. I sat and watched, digging my axe into the sand as the sun slowly began to set. 

He paused mid dive before turning to me with a smirk. "Come on Mason, the waters great".

I frowned. "No thanks".

Otherwise I'd be vulnerable. There's no lakes or great big bodies of water in District Seven. I stared at sea in slight fear...I can't swim.