The Games We Play

The Truth

The Hunger Games was revered so much in the district that people were in a festive mood a few days before the actual reaping. The District Two Square was the busiest and most festive at this time, they put up so much color that I avoided coming to this part of the District because the bright hues hurt my eyes terribly. I hated red. Green sucks. Pink's terrible. Yellow is the absolute worse.

Yes. This is how happy the people are about the Hunger Games.

Sick, I thought as I remembered what happened yesterday when I went to meet a few of mother's 'friends' with her. Magdalena dragged me along to brag about having a Victor child even though the Games still hasn't begun, she was too proud to even think about the possibility of my eminent death. I struggled not to grit my teeth in frustration yesterday at the atmosphere of happiness in the square – I was not happy so why are they? They don't have any reason to celebrate...

Yes, maybe I was still affected by the things I heard and read the other night no matter how I tried not to. It was so damn hard when I see Cato every day in the Training Center... I just want to rip his head off in anger. At the same time, I just wanted to cry. I wanted to ask him face-to-face if those things I read were true but I can't do that because I'm scared that he'd say they were and he really was playing with me. So, I did the best option; I ignored him completely. Shut him off.

I just wanted him to get the hell away from me.

For the first and second days, Cato was frustrated as hell. He couldn't get me to speak but he gave up finally. He just told me that I shouldn't screw up because our lives depended on our mistakes. I shrugged him off and continued training. Slowly, Cato left my side.

This is what I wanted.

But why am I not happy?

The last day of practice ended early and I have the slight idea why. The night before the reaping, the District will have a party for the pre-chosen tributes. A good luck party, I guess. Everyone who's anyone will attend, though I rarely do since parties aren't exactly my thing. This year, however, since I am the girl tribute, I had to attend. My presence was required which I hated. Another thing I didn't like is for Cato to show up as well. I'm certain he would, he's the kind of person to actually enjoy something like this. I dread seeing him and acting like we're okay – because for the eyes of the District, we're the strongest partners formed by the Center.

But I had no choice.

"Clove, hurry up." I heard Magdalena shout outside my bedroom door. I groaned inaudibly and glared at the dress she had handed me earlier. I just wish it'll burn to dust before I get the chance to wear this stupid thing. It was a plain one really, something I could actually wear but it was in light yellow. A color I detested.

Scratch that.

One of the colors I detested.

I will die first before I wear this...monstrosity.

"Clove!" My mother's voice sounded like if I don't come downstairs wearing the dress, she'd kill me. Literally.

I took a deep breath and clenched my fist. One night. I'll wear this for one damn night then I'll rip this thing to shreds. I grudgingly pulled the dress on and brushed my hair, forbidden to wear it up in a ponytail, and put on the shoes Magdalena said came with the dress. I stepped out of my bedroom and marched downstairs where my mother was waiting with a big satisfied smile on her face. She could actually look beautiful if not for the chills you'd have whenever she'd give you a smile.

"Perfect. Come." She liked social events because she'd get to flaunt herself yet again. Magdalena was so used to the limelight on her that you'd think she had threatened people to actually pay attention to her, which may be a real option since she can actually do that. We walk silently towards the District Square and join the loud party already starting without us. There were so much people consuming so much food – probably a gift from the Capitol since we were only one of the two districts who actually cared for the Games. Most of the teenagers were drinking, more than what they could consume and before I turn my eyes to Magdalena to complain, she was gone.

I was alone again.

I wasn't for long though, people came and pulled me towards their group. They congratulated me and I put up an act. I would be happy, I would follow Magdalena's order for one last time then no more. When someone shoved a cup in my hands, containing a clear drink which I am certain that wasn't water, I cringed and pretended to drink a sip. There were a few others who pulled me to them, congratulating me and giving me tips – I paid no mind to them – on how to give them a good show.

I finally managed to get away from the crowd and they seemed not to notice my disappearance. The only tolerable place there was the wooden bench by the corner of the Square. It was far enough from the party and close enough if ever someone looks for the tribute they only knew today.

"You look absolutely tortured."

Damn. Not him. I refused to turn my head at the voice coming from behind but the person continued to hover and refused to leave.

"Oi Clove." The blond male tribute sat, more like dumped, himself on the space beside me. When I looked at his face, I saw the reddish tint on his cheeks like the kind on those teenagers she was with earlier. The brute was drunk. "What the hell are you doing here? You're no fun, aren't you? You're so damn weird." He let out a loud bark of a laugh of his and threw his head back as he did so. Cato stopped and dropped on arm on my shoulders, it felt like bricks. "Be happy. This is the last day you'd get to actually live!"

I can smell alcohol in his breath and a hint of mint on him.

"Get away from me, Cato. I'm not in the mood to play games with you." I pushed his arm away from me. He frowned and stood up. I thought he was going to go but he turned and looked at me instead.

"You're so troublesome. I don't know why I try." He drawled as he leant forward to stare me down with those piercing blue eyes of his. I took that as a challenge and stared back at him, I won't give this guy the feeling of triumph even with this petty staring competition. His eyes narrowed as he broke our eye contact and his glance travelled down. I looked down, wondering if he spilled something on me and saw nothing but the slowly forming smirk on his lips and then... I felt the warmth of his lips on mine.

It lasted for a few seconds before I pushed him away, "What the hell was that..." I patted my sides to search for my knives but I remembered that I didn't bring them with me tonight. The boy let out another loud laugh that made a few heads turn and smirk maliciously at us. "What are you laughing at, Byrnes?" I scoffed and wiped the taste of his lips on mine on the hem of the skirt of my dress. He was playing with me again so I shouldn't take him seriously. No matter how fast my heart was beating from the moment he kissed me.

"You're so damn frustrating, Clove Holt, but what's more frustrating...huh?"

"What?" I asked, to humor him a bit.

"I still try. I still..." He muttered a few curses, "try!" He straightened up and stumbled a bit, if not for the nearby wall to support him. "Gawd. Why do I try? You're hopeless. Your eyes are on the prize and I'm as good as dead because my eyes are on you." He chuckled and then turned, with support from the wall still, to join his friends in the Square.

"My eyes are on you."

Fuck. What did he mean by that?

Has Cato Byrnes actually lost his mind?

Is he telling me, in his drunken stupor, that he actually likes me?