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

Chapter 52

CLOVE’S POV

After what seems like forever, Cato arrives at and opens my front door dressed in a fancy-looking suit.

I have to admit that he actually looks good.  I don’t know what he has in mind for tonight, but I’m expecting nothing less than a complete package—especially from someone as blunt as “Cato the Magnificent.”

Magnificent. Yeah right. Only the Capitol would say something like that about him.

Besides, I prefer the sound of “Clove the Illustrious.” That one has a much nicer ring to it. Cato doesn’t even deserve the title.  

“Good evening,” he greets me, maintaining a pleasant expression on his face. “You look nice.”

“I could say the same about you,” I answer plainly, reflecting the lack of emotion in his entrance.

“You ready to go?” He inquires, getting straight to the point.

“Lemme guess: main drag, somewhere in the Strip?” I inquire, hoping to get some more information out of him. I don’t even like surprises to begin with.

“It’s a surprise,” he boasts surreptitiously, knowing that he has complete control of the situation.

“You are so predictable,” I groan, rolling my eyes in flagrant disregard for his presence.

“C’mon, Clove,” he teases playfully. “What happened to your keen sense of adventure? You know that I’m capable of keeping you on your toes if you give me a chance.”

“Brag brag brag, boast boast boast,” I mock him somewhat scornfully, with the intention of messing with his ego. “Let’s see how adventurous you are when I decide to send my foot flying into your groin.”

“That’s not funny,” he grunts, letting gravity pull the giddy expression on his face downward into one of embarrassment.

“Point for me,” I sing, subtly pumping my fist behind my back. “Let’s go already.”

Cato silently acknowledges my request and leads the way, but he still hasn’t even given me the slightest hint regarding where we’re headed this evening.

**********

After leading me out of the Victor’s Village, Cato’s chauffeur picks us up and takes both of us through the affluent part of the main drag all the way to the end of the Strip. I had inhibitions about coming here again after last time, but Cato refused to give me any wiggle room in the deal we made.

Sometimes, I just wish I could switch bodies with him. He’d only need a few hours of living in my body to learn what it’s like to be physically overpowered on a daily basis. I’d give anything to see the look on his face when I strap him to a chair and teach him the literal definition of “wiggle room”—my way.

However, this excursion does have its benefits. It’s nice to be able to blow kisses and flash a quick smile at the fans that recognize us whenever we go out. The sensation of dominion over just about everyone else in District 2 is almost enough to make me forget about how often Cato bends me to his will. Almost.

Our ride leads us away from most of the establishments in the Strip and takes us up a hill that overlooks the main portion of District 2 in the direction of what looks like a skyscraper isolated from everything else.

As soon as we reach the entrance, Cato steps outside, thanks our driver and leads us to an ornately decorated rotating door, deciding to play chivalrous and letting me step inside first.

Before Cato steps inside the lobby, I take the chance to gape in awe at the décor of the establishment. It looks almost exactly like the tribute quarters in the Capitol, minus the blood-red theme that seems to be associated with District 2.