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Upon reflecting further after this afternoon's training, my conversation after training with Snow took an unexpected turn. He casually suggested that I join him later in the evening, and despite my initial reservations about its potential impact on my well-being, I found myself caught between two options. But to no avail in choosing, Snow's piercing blue eyes locked onto mine, intensifying as I grappled with the decision. Reluctantly, I admitted to myself that I was somewhat intimidated into considering his offer. The proposition? He wanted to escort me out of the Zoo under the cover of night, with everyone else asleep, all for his own benefit.
At a certain juncture, I found myself pondering why he treated me in a manner distinct from his interactions with other classmates and their respective tributes. From the very beginning, he had emphasized his responsibility for taking care of me. I couldn't help but wonder if, aside from his family name, he derived a sense of satisfaction from making others envy him. Beneath the weight of his inherited wealth, I observed a glimpse of this dynamic when comparing him to other mentors who pursued a similar agenda. However, unlike him, they exuded not just pride but also an eerie confidence and personality that unveiled a darker and more gruesome aspect of the Capitol's people. Their treatment of each district served as a stark reminder of the ominous days of the past. But with Coriolanus it was different.
Rather than highlighting District 13's impoverished rebellion, he drew attention to my well-fed state and positioned me as a strong contender for victory in the 11th Annual Hunger Games. This led me to consider that there might be something more sinister beneath the surface of Snow's seemingly innocent facade. It occurred to me that achieving victory wasn't the sole objective; there seemed to be a darker motive lingering in Snow's mind. Those astute enough to outwit him might discern that he harbored a sense of vengeance, something he was unwilling to relinquish.
As I was escorted, I had to maintain the pretense that there was nothing unusual between my mentor and me. A few sets of eyes eagerly awaited my return to the Zoo. Some exhibited a remorseful curiosity, eager to discover what Coriolanus had imparted to me before our departure, while others displayed indifference, seemingly ready to pass judgment on fellow candidates without any apparent reason. Coriolanus had emphasized from the outset that those who passed judgment would face execution from the very beginning of the Games' clock. What a regrettable situation, I thought.
Among those curious about the secrets that the Capitol's favored students might share with their tributes, Jacob stood out. He wore a smile on his face, contorted into an ominous smirk that he didn't hesitate to deploy when I returned from yet another special treatment with my mentor. "So?" he observed as I entered the Zoo, adhering to the Peacekeepers' advice not to disclose anything. It was a principle you quickly learned to rely on in those initial seconds upon entering your cage. "Did Prince Snow tell you about his sick and twisted fantasies?" It was evident that he was well aware.
"First of all, it's not Prince Snow; it's Coriolanus Snow." I corrected him, the background filled with a few echoing "ohhh" from the tributes, hoping to amplify the tension between my male tribute and me for potential use in the Game. Dismissing such attempts, I shrugged off the thought before proceeding, mindful not to divulge more secrets, especially to avoid Snow further trouble. "He's invited me somewhere this evening. That's all." Despite Jacob's dissatisfaction, he persisted in prodding me for additional details. "You know." His figure seemed taller than Snow's, perhaps an illusion created by his imposing chest. "Miss Jenkins, my mentor, mentioned that the Snow boy has a little obsession with a girl from District 12. And guess what? We do have a girl from District 12."
