Sugarcubes // Finnick Odair - Hunger Games Fanfic

VIII.

Nothing can describe the ups and downs a tribute faces in the hunger games. There are, of course, In-numerous downs, but there are also small but plentiful ups. Seeing myself in a strapping black skintight jumpsuit with the number seven written on the back in bold green font is something that brings me more happiness than it should. It makes me feel powerful. I'm a few minutes late to breakfast, but I have a feeling that after last night's events, Rosaline will make an allowance for my lateness. Perhaps even chalk it up to grief and the slightest bit of madness and leave me alone. Sighing and mentally preparing myself for what will no doubt be a strenuous day, I step out the door, still feeling superior in my new outfit. Until I see Austin wearing the exact same one. Brushing past Austin and trying to hide my disappointment that we will both be wearing the same suit, I greet Blight good morning and sit down next to him at the table, across from Rosaline who seems scared to even look me in the eyes.

"So, have you thought about your angle?" Blight asks. Though the question is posed at both Austin and I, he has only forewarned me about this.

"I was thinking a mix of something sweet and dangerous, for me," I say quietly, "But I don't know how to pull it off."

"I like the idea," Eero says, speaking to me for the first time since I met her. "Try not to use any of the weapons you might be good at during training, focus on learning new skills instead. Try to talk to everybody – make everyone like you without getting too attached to anyone."

"Yes," Blight says, nodding his head in agreement, and a little shock emerging from the fact that Eero spoke to me and not Austin. "The dangerous part can show in the scores of your private session and in the games themselves. Until then play it sweet."

I nod my head in understanding and continue chewing on my food. They turn towards Austin who seems to have accepted the fact he's going to die in the games. I'm still furious at him, but I don't like the idea of him dying off the bat because he couldn't be bothered to put in any effort.

"He can play obnoxious. Too good for everyone type. He already did that on our chariot and in the train ride here. Shouldn't be too far from the truth." I say, muttering my last sentence under my breath although, by the smirk on Blight's face I'm sure he heard me.

"Alright," Eero says unsurely. "It's a start. If that's the case, don't talk to anyone. Sit alone or with the careers. Show off, though save your special skill for the private session."

"What is your special skill, by the way?" Blight asks abruptly.

"I'd rather not," He pauses, looking at me like I might slit his throat. "say under the present company." He mutters under his breath, but everybody at the table hears it.

It makes sense, seeing that when it comes down to it, we're all enemies in the arena, but it still makes me angry. Suddenly I can't bear to sit at the same table as him.It doesn't make sense, and even I know that my anger doesn't stem from any sensible place; seeing as I just yesterday lunged on him wanting to scratch his eyes out, but I can't help it.

"You don't have to. I was just leaving." I say, getting up from my seat abruptly, causing some of my silverware to fall on the ground. I leave half of my plate untouched, earning a disapproving look from Blight. It's best for me to try and gain weight before the games. Some tributes have even made it up to 9 days without food because of the extra weight they've gained in the Capitol, but my sudden stroke of anger won't allow me to eat and further. Maybe that's Austin's plan. I scoff as I walk away from the table, leaving my chair carelessly pulled out and my silverware on the floor, throwing the napkin I was using to wipe my mouth behind me – my good luck having it land right on Austin's place who declines eating another bite, carefully picking the napkin out of the plate.