The Hunger Games: Entropy (A Clato Fanfiction: NTI Series, Book 2)

Chapter 35

CLOVE'S POV

The pressure. The tension. The stakes.

At the same time, the nothingness...

I sit in the empty room, letting whatever adrenaline left in my system dry out. At this point, it almost feels like I don't have anything to be nervous about anymore. I already know what the future has in store for me. Tour each district, Capitol, go home, mentor training, and whatever else my life has in store for the future.  

It's not insecurity. I know exactly what the future holds. Still, everything that preceded today could have gone better. I didn't have to give Snow a scare. I didn't have to repeatedly bash Cato.  

Somehow, it feels too late to try and repair those mistakes. I can almost feel whatever control I have over the future slipping out of my grasp to be lost forever in the emptiness of my surroundings.

I still need a way out. I can't just give up now. I still have a chance to overcome the situation and make things work. Besides, no one ever said that I HAD to work with Cato. I just had to be presentable on my own.

The best way out of this whole thing is probably to stick with my game plan and go with it. That's all that matters until the Tour ends.

...but it may not work during the final interview. 

Hopefully, our mentors will finish correcting my talks as soon as possible...

CATO'S POV

Why? What have I done to deserve the straitjacket? Is there something wrong with doing a little something extra to boost my mood? I was depressed last night! Just let me sleep it off.

All I've ever done for Clove is give and give and give. There's just no point in trying to get her to work with me anymore. She still refuses to work with me because she won't stop running away from her life. Eventually, her lungs will collapse and her life will swallow her whole before she can catch her breath.

But I still WANT her to work with me…she can’t stay that way forever.

Besides, no one said anything about us HAVING to work together as one unit. I can hold out on my own. Anyone who tells me otherwise is either in my way or trying to sell me something, the latter being more likely.

I just wish I could give my mentors a piece of what they deserve. They interfered with my strategy and threw off my plans. It's not their Tour. Sure, they have to look out for us, but interference on that level makes no sense at all. It's about US, not them. It's not like they're in danger, right? 

I still need to get out of this straitjacket first. 

Having no means of escape, I have no choice but to sit confined to this chair and let time pass.

************

I try to entertain myself by looking at the clock and watching the second hand jump from one scratch to the next. The cheesy and risque multimedia produced by the Capitol seems more appealing than staying here. I would almost rather have Clove chucking knives at my face just to keep me occupied.

She would probably go ahead and start chucking away, even without my permission. It would probably do both of us some good in the short run.

After struggling to entertain myself for what seems like forever, Brutus opens the door to my room and approaches me with crossed arms. He doesn’t look happy, but I can’t say I blame him. I’d feel the same way in his position.

“How’s everything, boy?” he gruffs, maintaining his role as the mentor.

“Terrible,” I reply, making sure to acidify each of my words. “I didn’t ask to be strapped to a chair and beaten to a pulp just before I go live in front of a crowd.”