021. composure

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( 𝒉𝒖𝒎𝒂𝒏𝒊𝒕𝒚'𝒔 𝒇𝒂𝒖𝒍𝒕𝒔 ).
twenty one.『 composure 』

FIVE YEARS AGO INDIE HAD SAT WHERE SHE NOW SAT, TRAINED IN THE SAME BUT MORE ADVANCED ROOM SHED TRAINED IN, EAT THE SAME EXPENSIVE FOOD

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FIVE YEARS AGO INDIE HAD SAT WHERE SHE NOW SAT, TRAINED IN THE SAME BUT MORE ADVANCED ROOM SHED TRAINED IN, EAT THE SAME EXPENSIVE FOOD. This year was so much different though. She may be in the same position but everything was changed. There was so much that was different, if not to the eyes of the public but to her. Because now she knew what was coming. She'd read the script, the rehearsal. And now it was the big show. The audience asked for an encore and because of it they knew what was coming. They knew what was ahead.

Perhaps that's why she didn't feel nervous. She'd already learned the routine. She knew what was to come. Any now ranking didn't seem like a big deal. Sponsors knew what she could do, so was it really that much of a change? It seemed utterly useless, to impress people who she no longer cared about. Give them a show they've seen before. She wasn't well versed in weapons other than handling knives, and she knew nothing else would really capture their attention. She was one of the tributes that they'd simply overlook, her first games having not been memorable compared to others in the room. She was sure the only reason they'd be awake was to see what Katniss Everdeen had prepared.

Indie glanced up, hearing Gloss' name called, the man in question giving his sister's hand one last goodbye kiss before leaving to the former training room, now their personal rating hell. She could see how much the careers changed, while desperate too win and fight for their lives it wasn't the same as before. They were all broken in different ways, and they were scared. Even the careers didn't want to go back. She could see it in their eyes.

"What are you planning on doing?" Isaac asked quietly, only so that Indie could her him.

"Does it matter anymore?" Indie whispered quietly to the man, pursing her lips as she looked at him. "I can't really do anything except throw knives. I survived on pure luck in my games, who says this will go any differently?"

"This time," Isaac started, "We'll have allies."

Indie fell silent, before looking past Isaac to the bench in front of them. As though sending her eyes on him, Finnick looked back to her, meeting her brown eyes and giving her a reassuring nod and one of his charming smiles, to which she returned, feeling her heart flutter slightly. He turned back around, going back to talking to Mags.

Indie looked over, finding Isaac also looking to a man in the back on the district ten bench. Emil Bar. Indie smiled at the thought of the two of them, who she'd seen countless times huddled in a corner during parties the capital held in their honor. Being oblivious of the beginnings of the relationship going on, Finnick had been the one to point out the two to her, and the both would whisper to themselves watching them, wondering who'd make the first move.

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