Dead Man's Gambit / Haymitch Abernathy

03. When god bore you hungry

ACT I, CHAPTER THREE
❛ when god bore you hungry. ❜
content: blood/injury, underage drinking, toxic family dynamics, angst, post-traumatic stress disorder/flashbacks, sexual innuendo.

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     Renfri knows that they are approaching the train station when Suvarna retrieves her pocket mirror from her purse and starts using a puff to correct wrinkles in her makeup. Renfri almost wants to ask the escort if she can borrow her mirror, imagining teeth stained with lipstick and uneven blush on her cheeks. She hadn't done any crying in bidding farewell to her friends and her mother. Still, jittery nerves fill her body at the thought of paparazzi snapping photos of her face for millions to see. While on Capitol TV, it is imperative for her to look her absolute best at all times.

She is beginning to wish she had brought a mirror as her district token, not her grandmother's necklace.

At least Adora had lent Renfri her handkerchief in the Justice Building so she could blot Lavenna's blood off her face. The makeup her mother's handmaids applied could only be removed by a special micellar water, so the blush and lipgloss had stayed in place throughout the fight and its bloody results. This is her only reassurance. Still, she runs her tongue along her teeth to get out imaginary stains.

The silence in the car is one of mutual focus; everybody is thinking about how they'll appear in the next few seconds. Their smiles, walks, and charisma must be on point. Lex Brunner, dressed in a white button-up with sleeves rolled up to his elbows and gray slacks, chews on his nails absentmindedly, gears grinding in his head. Renfri is thankful that he's not talking, for once.

She looks out the car window, watching the blurred red-brick warehouses flit by. The train station is in the center of District 1's manufacturing sector. Seamstresses and jewelers and printmakers and cobblers, each of them relies on imports by train from other districts. It's only fitting that the train station is in the hub of production. Though, she wishes she could see the grassy highlands covering most of District 1's rural and suburban land, bordered on one side by distant purple mountains that kissed the clouds. That, to her, is the real District 1. Not this cluttered brick jungle dark from the long shadows of buildings.

The driver of the car puts on the brakes and Renfri faces forward. As expected, the train station is flocked with reporters and camera crews standing behind dividers, the crowd a sea of bright clothes and wires and expensive equipment hoisted on shoulders. Suvarna, beaming wide, says, "Smile, dear tributes! Pretty pictures mean front covers!"

Renfri fixes her posture as straight as she can while Lex opens his car door. At once, cameras start flashing. Lex steps out, followed by Suvarna, and suddenly Renfri is climbing out of the car, smiling through the blinding flashes. She walks toward their sleek pearl white train in a confident stride she perfected over years of practice, like she's on the red carpet, waving at the crowd. Some cameramen call her name, and she turns to face them, giving her most charming smile. For a moment, she feels completely comfortable. Being pretty in pictures is what she's been raised to do.

At the top of the train's steps, Lex and Renfri stop to pose just in front of the doorway, Suvarna in the center. The paparazzi shout compliments as they snap more photos. Renfri looks into as many camera lenses as she can, feeling warm inside from the attention.

But good things cannot last forever, and the metal train door slides open, letting out a cool gust of air-conditioned wind. Suvarna puts a hand on both Renfri and Lex's shoulders and leads them into the train. Soon as they enter, the door slides shut, putting the trio back into an awkward air of silence.

"Well," says Suvarna, "take a look around."

Renfri turns, scanning the dining car they had just stepped into. It is a quite well-decorated room—all hickory smell and ornate blue flowers on cream wallpaper, pale curtains and faux dark wood pillars. Natural light filters in through the windows, illuminating a wood table with six wood chairs and a blue runner cloth. A rainbow of pastries and candies sit in an orderly fashion around silver platters that decorate small end tables around the room. Mildly impressed, she glances at her district partner.