Hazel's mind raced as she continued to search. Each passing moment without finding the suture kit intensified her anxiety.
"Can't anything ever be easy?" Hazel muttered under her breath as she stripped the sheets of both beds in the small room she shared with Silus. Panic rose within her, making her heart pound and her hands shake. "Why would it be under the sheets?" She questioned herself aloud, but her desperation compelled her to check anyway.
The room soon became chaotic as Hazel overturned pillows, blankets, and cushions in her desperate search. She crawled on her knees, pushing her emerald gown aside, and began searching under the bed frames.
"Hazel, what is going on?" Indira's voice pulled her out of her frantic search. She froze. Involving Indira could drag her into trouble or put their entire group at risk if she revealed their secret. Hazel couldn't afford to take that risk. She tore off one of her emerald earrings, holding in between her fingers. Peering over the edge of the bed, a few strands of red hair fell onto her face. Indira stood in the doorway, arms crossed and a deep furrow in her brow, her gaze unwavering, "What did I tell you about your hair?"
"Sorry, Indira," Hazel stammered. She rose to her feet, smoothing out her emerald dress. "I dropped one of my earrings, but I found it," Hazel lied as she forced herself to meet Indira's gaze. She held up the sparkling earring and began putting it back into her ear while Indira watched.
Indira looked puzzled but didn't press the matter further. "Uh, sure," she replied, clearly not entirely convinced due to the state of the room. We have to go now; the buses are getting ready to leave."
Nodding in response, Hazel left behind their room's chaotic disaster and followed Indira toward the elegant Capitol buses waiting to transport them to the banquet. As she boarded, the faces of the other tributes stared out from their windows.
Hazel's heart continued to race as she slumped into the seat next to Silus on the bus. Silus turned to face her, his concerned eyes searching her face.
"Are you alright?" he asked, a note of worry in his voice.
She glanced around at the other tributes seated nearby and lowered her voice, "Silus, did you take the suture kit?" Her eyes bore into his.
Silus ran his thumb down the light blue stitches along his palm. A deep frown etched across his brow. "No, I thought you had it."
She shook her head, "I was supposed to give it back to Leo," she admitted, exhaling a shaky breath and running her hand across her forehead. "But it's gone."
Silus suggested, "Maybe Leo took it back?"
Hazel hesitated, "I don't think so, Silus. He asked me for it this morning, and I completely forgot until now. He never mentioned taking it back."
"We should ask him about it."
"Sure, but we need to be careful. If anyone finds out we had that kind of contraband or that he gave it to us, we could all be dead before the games even begin."
As the bus journey ended, Hazel and Silus sat in contemplative silence. The steady rumble of the vehicle ceased, drawing Hazel's attention outside. Her eyes widened as they fell upon an imposing and elegant building, its grandeur unlike anything she had ever witnessed. The structure’s mere presence commanded attention. The tributes disembarked from the buses, their attention fixed on the majestic building before them.
Head Peacekeeper Percy stepped forward to address the group. His voice carried the air of a museum guide. "Well, don't you all look like a bunch of shiny new pennies," he began. "Alright, folks, this lovely building behind me is called the Pantheon. You all are about to experience a rare privilege for anyone from the districts."
Percy's gaze swept over the group, ensuring he had everyone's attention. "During the banquet, there will be no wandering, no causing scenes. You are to stay within the sightlines of your peacekeeper and your escort at all times," he instructed, his voice firm. "I believe I've made myself abundantly clear about the consequences of breaking the rules. Please refer back to my previous speeches if you have any questions. And remember, you are expected to report back here at 11:00 pm sharp."
The Capitol Pantheon rose before her, a colossus etched against the dwindling light of day. It was like something out of a dream—even better than a dream. Her dreams wouldn't even be able to come up with something so grand. Its sheer scale dwarfed her; the building loomed like a titan, its classical columns reaching skyward as if to support the heavens themselves. The last vestiges of sunlight kissed the façade, turning the windows into shimmering pools of gold and amber.
Flanked by majestic columns, the grand entrance led to enormous doors with intricate carvings. The building's exterior was a masterpiece of symmetry and balance, with each wing mirroring the other.
The hedges stood in perfect geometric shapes, and the pathways between them were lined with vibrant flowers that defied the fading light of dusk. Reds, purples, and golds burst forth like jewels set in a crown of greenery.
Modern sculptures and water features added a contemporary touch to the traditional setting. As evening descended, the building's exterior came to life with lights, casting a golden glow on its architectural features. The building's reflections in the ornate water fountains across the gardens created a mesmerizing sight. The gentle sound of cascading water countered the hushed conversations around her.
Upon stepping into the hall, the soaring ceilings commanded attention, adorned with intricate frescoes depicting scenes of prosperity, peace, and the Capitol's victory. Glittering chandeliers, resembling clusters of precious gems, cast a warm, golden glow over the entire hall. The walls were adorned with ornate gold leaf and delicate molding, while grand arched windows were draped in rich velvet curtains in royal blue.
Large, gilded mirrors between the windows created an illusion of endless luxury. In the center of the banquet hall, a vast marble dance floor gleamed under the soft, golden light. It was surrounded by round tables adorned with white linen, extravagant centerpieces of white roses, and flickering candles in crystal holders. The ornate buffet table was laden with numerous gourmet dishes. Sculpted ice statues stood among the offerings. Fine China and sparkling crystal glassware awaited guests.
A small, elevated stage was set for a live orchestra at the far end of the hall. Lush greenery and flowers framed the stage, and the air was perfumed with rose and lavender. It was an atmosphere of calculated extravagance designed to impress and intimidate.
"Holy cow," Silus whispered next to her. It was as if they had all been transported to a world of extravagant excess, far removed from their humble origins in the districts.
A male voice cut through the awe as they took in the grandeur. It was Ian Threader, still clad in the same blood-stained reaping clothes from his arrival at the train station. His face bore a bitter expression as he voiced what many were thinking.
"All of this for one night while we are starving at home in eight," Ian spat.
"Can't we enjoy it? It will just be a few more days, and there is nothing we can do to change how things are," Ava suggested, her voice tinged with desperation. She was a vision in her deep purple gown, her tan skin and features accentuated by the elegant attire.
Ian, however, remained resolute, shaking his head and dismissing Ava's plea with cold indifference. "You do what you want. I will not accept anything from these savages." Ian and Ava found their seats at one of the tables.
"Maybe let's not sit with him," Hazel murmured to Silus, casting a wary glance toward Ian. The air was tense, and she sensed the night could take unexpected turns. Silus nodded in agreement. "Agreed," he responded, and they navigated their way through the tables, eventually finding seats at a round table alongside the tributes from Districts Twelve and Ten.
As they settled in, Hazel's attention was drawn to the table's centerpiece – an arrangement of white roses. Of course.
Next to them sat Ruby and Ethan; both appeared stunned by the grandeur.
Hazel's gaze drifted towards Aaron and Mia from District Ten throughout the evening. Clad in elegant yet somber black and silver, they carried a quiet, reflective air as they observed the banquet's proceedings in mostly silence.
Hazel felt an urge to engage Aaron in conversation, particularly about his father, Garth. However, she hesitated, sensing that the timing wasn't right. Every so often, their eyes would meet across the table. Mia would offer Hazel a small half-smile. Aaron's gaze was different – it held a hint of regret, and he would glance away, shifting his focus back to the banquet.
Hazel found herself drawn into conversation with Ruby. The girl appeared almost fairylike in her adorable dress; the rich shade of pink complemented her youthfulness. Her large gray eyes sparkled with innocence. The young girl's stories of her life back in District Twelve were endearing; she recounted her adventures with her unconventional pets—a woodchuck, several squirrels, and an unlikely encounter with an opossum. Ruby's animated expressions and the fondness in her voice, as she shared, brought a genuine smile to Hazel's face.
Listening to Ruby, unexpected homesickness swept over her. Her thoughts drifted to her little brother, Sage, who held a similar fondness for creatures of all kinds. Sage's animal stories, often long and meandering, were suddenly precious memories to Hazel. A bittersweet longing washed over her; she wished to hear even the most monotonous of Sage's stories now.
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On the other side of the table, Silus conversed with Ethan. They exchanged stories about the differences between their respective districts. Silus shared gruesome and sometimes even humorous anecdotes from felling and harvesting big timber. At the same time, Ethan shared about the dark tunnels underneath District Twelve. Both coal mining in District Twelve and lumberjacking in District Seven were undeniably dangerous professions, but they also had an adventurous quality to them that set them apart.
Hazel couldn't fathom being stuck working in the factories of District Eight or the power plants of District Six, where being indoors all day would feel like a different form of torture. She would take the danger over the dreary any day of the week.
As the evening unfolded, the Capitol's elite paraded around the banquet hall, their attire a dazzling display of the city's notorious extravagance. Each guest donned fashion that pushed the limits of conventional taste, adorned in vibrant hues and materials that caught the light and sparkled beneath the grand chandeliers. They observed the tributes with a mix of fascination and voyeurism. They reminded her of visitors peering into an aquarium.
Silus and Hazel were the center of attention throughout the night, drawing the Capitol residents' eager interest. The elite approached them, their whispers laden with excitement, as they sought photographs with the siblings from District Seven. Hazel and Silus complied, maintaining intertwined hands and offering practiced smiles that masked their inner unease. Hazel remembered Indira's advice, trying to use the Capitol's intrigue to their potential advantage. Silus, ever mindful, kept his injured hand out of view from the prying cameras.
At one point, Hazel's attention shifted to Ian. A few of the Capitol's residents, encouraged by curiosity, approached him. Ian's response was immediate and chilling, a glare sharp enough to slice through the warm air. He uttered words that Hazel couldn't make out, but their effect was evident as the crowd around him dissipated, their previous enthusiasm cooled by his frosty demeanor. Beside him, Ava appeared mortified by the encounter and sought solace in the wine before her, her cheeks flushing a deeper shade with each gulp.
Amid the bustling interactions and the dazzling spectacle of the banquet, a notable figure approached Hazel and Silus. Festus Creed, known for his connections to Senator Snow, approached them. Festus, a name synonymous with wealth in the Capitol, had a family legacy deeply rooted in the lumber industry – a legacy built on the strenuous labor of those in District Seven. He was a broad-shouldered man with shiny, curly brown hair that contrasted with his lightly tanned skin, and his voice resonated with a deep, commanding tone.
"My money's on you two this year," he declared, his grin wide and sly. "I've always had a soft spot for District Seven. And for the first time since the Games started, I think District Seven has a real shot at winning."
His words, accompanied by a knowing wink, carried layers of meaning. The irony of his statement – considering the source of his family's wealth – was not lost on Hazel and Silus.
Hazel maintained a composed facade, her smile polite, veiling her discomfort. "Fingers crossed, you'll have a decent return on your investment then. Who knows, the 15th time might be the charm."
Festus's response came with a hearty laugh. "Funny," he said. He gave Hazel and Silus a friendly pat on the back, then strutted into the crowd with a final wink and a wave. "Enjoy the party, you two," he called over his shoulder.
As Festus disappeared among the other guests, Hazel's gaze shifted to another part of the room where the three victors from District Two were gathered. The seasoned mentors were surrounded by Caleb and Eve, their younger counterparts. Each of them appeared to have helped themselves to the generous assortment of alcohol provided, their voices rising. The pair's eyes flicked towards Hazel and Silus, their laughter sharp. Caleb's gaze met Hazel's, a smirk playing on his lips before he whispered with Eve. Silus leaned closer to Hazel. "Ignore them," he murmured, his voice barely audible over the chatter.
The Capitol escorts occupied tables a few rows from where Hazel and the other tributes sat. Among them was Indira, who, as usual, kept to herself without engaging. Leo and the other peacekeepers maintained watchful positions along the edges of the banquet hall, their vigilant gazes scanning the entire scene with indifference. Silus turned to Hazel, his eyes fixed on Leo. "Maybe we should go tell him now," he suggested.
Hazel hesitated, her attention divided between Silus and the bustling crowd of elegant guests taking their seats. Music filled the air, and a few couples had already taken to the marble dance floor. "I'm not sure if this is the best time," she replied, her voice fading as she caught sight of Senator Snow making his entrance.
He cut a striking figure in his immaculate suit, every detail crisp and flawless. The senator moved gracefully through the throng of people, shaking hands and exchanging pleasantries. It was evident that those in attendance were eager in their greetings of him, and he had to navigate the crowded hall with some difficulty. Eventually, he made his way to a large table near the stage, where Dr. Gaul, President Ravinstill, and several other senators were engaged in laughter and lively conversation.
Waitstaff clad in spotless uniforms served the first course of the evening, and Hazel found herself captivated by the display on her plate, distracting her from Senator Snow.
The table was a canvas of culinary masterpieces. Before Hazel was a dish of luminescent, jewel-toned delicate jellyfish arranged over a bed of seaweed salad shimmering with an exotic fruit dressing. The aroma alone was enough to make her stomach rumble audibly.
Plates of golden-fried night lock berries, a dangerous treat tamed for the table, were served alongside skewers of flame-grilled songbirds, their glistening meat infused with a medley of Capitol spices. There probably weren’t as delicious dishes in heaven itself.
As the dinner ended, the grand ballroom came alive with the strains of music, and couples glided across the polished marble dance floor. The orchestra's melodies transcended time and place, casting an enchanting spell that hung in the air. Hazel observed as tributes from various districts, including Mia and Aaron, joined the dancing with hesitant steps. Ian Threader was still not partaking in the meal. Instead, he sat at his table, sipping water in silence.
Glances in Snow's direction revealed that he was fully engaged in the festivities. Under the banquet hall's radiant lights, his blonde hair became more golden. Dr. Gaul's presence was equally striking. Her teeth gleamed as she watched the proceedings with an unsettling glint in her eyes. Clearly, she was far from a passive observer; instead, she reveled in the spectacle and the tributes' participation.
While Hazel couldn't deny being unsettled by Snow, Dr. Gaul's nausea-inducing presence truly unnerved her. Dr. Gaul's true psychopathy became apparent as she derived twisted enjoyment from observing the tributes, whose impending deaths she would spin into a macabre masterpiece. How could she look upon these young lives and see nothing more than jewels in her crown, devoid of humanity? The realization left Hazel's appetite in tatters, and she pushed her dishes away, her fork clattering onto the plate. Maybe Ian was right to stick with water.
Ruby's eyes sparkled as she observed the dance floor. She turned to Ethan with a hopeful smile. "Let's go dance, Ethan," she implored.
Ethan shook his head, offering an apologetic smile. "Oh, Rubes, I don't dance. Sorry," he explained, his reluctance palpable.
Ruby's face fell, and Hazel couldn't bear the thought that Ruby might never have the chance to experience the simple joy of dancing. Her life was set to end before she could attend a party or twirl around with a cute boy.
Hazel couldn't let that happen. She turned to Ruby, her determination shining through. "I think it's high time we hit that dance floor. You want to dance, Ruby?" she asked, a warm smile gracing her lips. Ruby's eyes lit up with excitement as she agreed.
As Hazel and Ruby made their way towards the dance floor, she glanced back at their table with a mischievous grin. "Well, boys, you're missing out on all the fun. Maybe Silus can work his magic and convince Ethan to change his mind about dancing," she suggested.
Silus took a long drink of wine, clinking his glass with Ethan's, and then gave a resigned nod. "No way, I'm with him on this one. Dancing is not my thing," he admitted.
Rolling her eyes, Hazel took Ruby's tiny hand and led her to the dance floor. Neither of them had much experience with dancing, but that didn't seem to matter. Their lack of expertise only made them laugh even harder, reveling in their shared clumsiness. They twirled and laughed, their awkward dance steps becoming a source of amusement. Any embarrassment Hazel felt was pushed away because the smile on Ruby's face and the sound of her laughter was worth it.
After several minutes of their clumsy dance, a gentle tap on her shoulder halted Hazel. She turned to face Kai Greene, the male tribute from District Eleven.
"Can I have a dance?" he asked, his boyish charm evident in the blue bow tie adorned with white polka dots. At fourteen years old, he was among the youngest tributes.
Hazel couldn't resist smiling, touched by Kai's politeness. She allowed him to take Ruby's hand, and as they began to dance and chat, Ruby's smile grew even brighter.
With Ruby in her pink dress and Kai in his dapper blue suit and tie, she couldn't help but imagine a different life—where Ruby and Kai danced together at a school event or prom. Tears welled in her eyes as she grappled with the heart-wrenching reality that they would never have an opportunity to dance again once the Games began. However, her fantasy was interrupted by another tap on her shoulder, accompanied by a voice that jolted her back to reality.
"Would you like a new partner?"
Turning to face the source of the interruption, Hazel found herself staring into Aaron's face, the tribute from District Ten. His muscular, broad build and the intensity in his green eyes lent him a commanding presence. Hazel gave him a quizzical look, her curiosity piqued. "Besides, we need to talk," he informed her.
Hazel nodded in agreement, and they danced for a few minutes without speaking.
"You mentioned you needed to talk to me," Hazel finally said, her voice filled with curiosity. I'm not entirely sure why the dancing is necessary."
Aaron regarded her, taking a moment to choose his words. "It's necessary because of the lack of an audience, or at least an audience that can hear us."
Hazel followed his gaze around the room. Everyone was engrossed in the dancing, the sumptuous food, and the dazzling spectacle of the evening. The revelry had absorbed them, creating a bubble of privacy within the grand ballroom.
"Right," Hazel replied, "Is this about your father?"
"No," Aaron's voice cut through the dance, gaze locking onto Hazel's. "It's about yours." Confusion flickered across Hazel's face, her brow furrowing as they swayed to the music's rhythm. "You have to persuade him to stop what he's doing." Aaron urged.
Hazel's eyes widened in surprise as she met his earnest gaze. "You want me to get my father to stop doing what he's doing?" she repeated, her disbelief evident. She let out a soft scoff, "What are you talking about? Have you been drinking?" her voice tinged with disbelief. "You do realize where we are, right?"
"If not you, then Silus," Aaron continued, his words pressing against the swell of doubt in Hazel's mind. "The odds favor one of you, given the Capitol's clear fascination around you both. When this is over, you—or he—must act."
"Then maybe you should be having this dance with Silus instead," she retorted, her voice low. "I know Oren may be bending the rules, standing up to the Capitol's demands at times, but..." She trailed off, uncertain.
But Aaron's grip on her hand tightened, his green eyes holding a grave intensity. "I'm not talking about Oren."