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❝ Can't take my eyes off of you, You'd be like Heaven to touch. ❞
━━ Frankie Valli.
A NEW FORM OF DREAD ENVELOPS MY BODY AS THE FACT I'M INSTANTS AWAY FROM STEPPING FOOT into the new training centre dawns on me. The idea of spending hours locked in a room with my lethal competitors chills me to the bone. I unconsciously curl my hands into tight fists, barely feeling my nails dig into my skin. Today is all about impressions, about making deadly allies for the games. The simple thought of joining the pack of Careers sends a surge of discomfort shooting through my stomach, and I'm determined to steer away from that alliance. Even--even if there's Cato. I even dare to wonder who he'd choose to side with, his career friends or me? In the midst of blood and chaos, who would he run to to protect? I'm aware everyone expects us to stick together, it's a given. But the friends we'll make isn't. It will be like a reflex to him to play buddy-buddy with tributes like Enobaria or Cashmere, and I'd rather jump off the podium before the count of three than trust these past victors.
Immediately, I tell Haymitch it'd be better to separate, to cover more territory. He goes off to chuck spears with Chaff, and I come to the conclusion that the tributes from eleven wouldn't be too bad a pick as allies (only if it meant for me to stay at a safe distance from Chaff's lips). Obviously, I venture along the younger side of the room, catching sight of Finnick Odair and Johanna Mason, both focused on their chosen task. I know I need strong allies to stand a chance in the arena, and Finnick is not only a Capitol favourite (which brings sponsors) but a god at combat, so I let the thought ponder.
The grunts coming from Gloss and Cashmere bounce off the walls as the sister-brother duo throw their knives into the digital targets, shattering them into little orange square pixels. Johanna slashes her axe left and right, sweat soaking through her fringe at the effort. Her lips curl into a smile as she plants the weapon on the ground. Enobaria practises with a trainer, yielding a sword, her mouth twisting into a scowl as her eyes set on me, her shaped teeth enough of a threat.
Not particularly enjoying earning glares from various careers scattered around the room, I head towards the fire station, where Beetee and Wiress kneel down. I'm about to head over to a vacant station, but their struggling to light a flame reels me in. They don't seem like too bad company, and I know I don't have the risk of being stabbed over there. They twist the wooden stick with difficulty, and I step in.
"You should put your hands down," I say, and both their heads swivel towards me, surprised at the sudden company. I attempt a smile, bending down and moving my hands. "And try faster."
