Hunger Games 1

Chapter 50 The Final Winner (2)
It was a relief to be alone with Cinna, with his arm around my shoulders, and I felt safe.He led me away from the cameras, down several corridors, and to the elevators that lead to the lobby of the training center.The hospital was deep underground, even lower than the training hall where the contestants practiced knotting and throwing spears.The windows of the hall were covered, it was pitch black, and a few guards were on duty, other than that, there was no one there.We walked to the special elevator for "tribute", and the sound of footsteps echoed in the empty hall.When the elevator went up to the twelfth floor, the faces of those "tributes" who had returned to their homeland flashed in my mind one by one, and I felt heavy and uneasy.

The elevator doors opened, and Vinia, Flavius, and Octavia surrounded me, chattering so excitedly that I couldn't make out what they were saying.But I understand what they are thinking, that is, they are happy to see me from the bottom of their hearts.I was also happy to see them, though not as happy as Cinna.Meeting them is like coming home to three of your favorite pets after a tough day.

They flock me to the dining room, and I can feast on them—roast beef, peas, fluffy omelets—but my portions are strictly controlled.I tried to ask for another copy, but was refused.

"No, no, they can't serve you all the delicious food just yet," Octavia said, but she slipped me an egg roll under the table anyway to show she was looking for me.

We went back to my room, and Cinna left for a while, while members of the design team helped me get ready.

"They did a complete plastic surgery on your body, and there is no blemish on your skin." Flavi said enviously.

But when I saw my naked body in the mirror, I found that I was pitifully thin.Although I know that I must be much thinner after coming out of the arena, but now I can count the ribs with my fingers.

They set up the water in my shower, then did my hair, manicure, and makeup.Talking non-stop beside me, I hardly have to answer.That's fine, I don't really want to talk anyway.The funny thing is, while they're all talking about the Hunger Games, it's all about where they were, what they were doing, how they felt when a particular event happened. "I was in bed then!" "I just dyed one of my eyebrows!" "I swear I almost passed out!" They were all talking about themselves, not the "tributes" who died in the arena.

In District [-], attitudes towards the Hunger Games were not the same.People watched and gritted their teeth with hatred, because after the game, people had to return to normal life order as soon as possible.In order not to feel disgusted with them, I simply did not listen to what they had to say.

Cinna came in with her yellow dress hanging from her arm.

"You've given up on the 'Burning Girls' idea altogether?" I asked.

"That's what you said." He said, pulling the clothes over his head, and I saw the breast pads in the clothes, which can add a little line to my starving body.I run my hands over my chest and frown.

"I know," Cinna said before I could protest, "the contest organizers wanted to have surgery on you, and Haymitch had a big fight with them about it, and now it's a compromise. "I was just about to look in the mirror, but he stopped me. "Wait, don't forget your shoes." Vinia helped me into a pair of flat sandals, and I turned to look in the mirror.

I'm still a "burning girl".The material of the clothes has a soft sheen.Even a slight movement reveals the curves of my body.In contrast, the costumes worn on the chariot at the opening ceremony were very dazzling, and the costumes in the TV interviews were too unnatural; and this costume makes people feel like they are bathed in pearls.

"What do you think?" Cinna asked.

"I think it's the best," I said.I was taken aback when my eyes moved from the pearlescent fabric to the hair.My hair has been let down and pulled back lightly with a headband; makeup has removed the corners of my face, my fingernails are painted, and the gown is at my waist—oh no, it's my ribs. Bottom—tucked in, accentuating my line better than a padded bodice, with a pleated skirt that falls to my knees.In the flats, my natural figure was even more visible, and I looked very down-to-earth, like any normal girl, a young girl, maybe 14 years old, pure and innocent.Yeah, it's hard to imagine how Cinna could capture and accentuate a girl who just won a brutal competition.

The design must have taken a lot of thought from Sinner, and none of his designs will be arbitrary.I bit my lip and pondered his design ideas.

"I thought the costume would look more...mature...sophisticated," I said.

"I think Peeta might like this one better." His answer is measured.

Peeta?No, this has nothing to do with Peeta.This is for the Capitol, for the tournament organizers, and for the spectators.Even though I don't quite understand Cinna's design intent, the costume reminds me that the game isn't quite over yet.There was a warning in his benign replies, an intention that he couldn't mention even in front of the members of his task force.

We took the elevator to the floor where the training grounds were located, and as usual, the winner and his or her team ascended from under the stage, first the design team, escorts, instructors, and finally the winner.This year, however, with two winners sharing a set of chaperones and mentors, the whole arrangement has to be rethought.I stand under the dark stage, and a new metal plate will lift me up.Small pieces of sawdust were still scattered on the ground, and there was a smell of paint all around.Cinna and his design team had gone down to change their outfits, leaving me standing there alone.In the dim light, I see a makeshift wall about ten yards away, and I think Peeta is standing behind that wall.

The audience was bustling and boisterous, and Haymitch touched my shoulder before I noticed him.I was startled, and unconsciously stepped back, still feeling like I was in the arena.

"Relax, it's me. Let me take a good look at you," Haymitch said.I stretched out my arms and turned around. "Not bad enough."

It's not really a compliment. "Just something," I said.

Haymitch looked around the musty place, then seemed to come to a decision, and said, "Nothing, how about a hug? Good luck."

Well, Haymitch's request is really weird.Anyway, we are the winners, maybe it is common sense to hug and wish good luck.But when I put my arms around his neck, he hugged me tightly.He started talking in my ear, quickly and softly, and my hair covered his lips.

"Listen carefully, you're in trouble, you've made the Capitol look bad, they're angry, they can't stand being teased, and now they're a laughing stock for Parnum," said Haymitch.

Hearing this, my heart suddenly picked up, and my heart was full of fear.With nothing covering my mouth, I smiled, pretending that what Haymitch was saying was lighthearted. "What will happen then?"

"Your only excuse is that you're madly in love and don't know what you're doing." Haymitch let go of me and trimmed my hairband again. "Got it, honey?" He could mean anything now.

"Got it," I said. "Did you tell Peeta?"

"Needless to say," said Haymitch, "he's got it."

"You think I don't get it?" I said, taking the opportunity to straighten Haymitch's bright red tie.Cinna must have gone to a lot of trouble to get Haymitch to wear this.

"Since when have I thought anything mattered to you?" Haymitch said. "Let's take our places." He pulled me onto the metal plate. "Tonight is yours, honey, have fun!" He kissed my forehead and disappeared into the dim light.

I tugged at my skirt, wishing it would be longer to cover the big bones in my knees, but I couldn't find it.I was so nervous that I shivered like a leaf in the wind. I tried my best to ease my nervousness, hoping it was just excitement.Anyway, this is my night.

The damp and moldy smell under the stage became more and more unbearable, and it made me suffocate.I was breaking out in cold sweat, and felt that the board above my head was about to collapse, burying me alive under the rubble.When the horn of victory sounds and I leave the arena, I should be safe, from then on, for the rest of my life.But if Haymitch is telling the truth—and he has no reason to lie—then no place I've been in my life has been more dangerous than where I stand now.

It's scarier than being hunted down in an arena, where I can die and it's over.But here, if I don't play what Haymitch calls "crazy in love," then Prim, Mom, Gale, and everyone I care about and love in District [-] will be punished.

Well, I still have a chance now.Funny, in the arena, when I dumped the berries in my hand, I just wanted to outwit the organizers of the tournament, without thinking about how it would react to it in the Capitol.But, you know, the Hunger Games are their weapon, you can't beat them.So, now the Capitol is going to act like they're in charge, like they're the ones who directed it, and we're both going to kill ourselves.Only by following their train of thought can I escape smoothly.

And if the scene doesn't work well, Peeta... Peeta will suffer too.But what does Haymitch mean when I ask if he told Peeta?Want him to pretend to be madly in love too?

"Needless to say, he knows."

He already knew that the Hunger Games weren't quite over yet, and we were in danger again?Or... really fall in love madly?I have no idea.I haven't sorted out my own relationship issues with Peeta.Too complicated.I pretended to be his lover in the game, and I raged at him in the Capitol. How should I treat him when I return to District [-]?Maybe what I did to him made sense, maybe I liked him?These problems are tangled together, and this knot can only be untied slowly when I get home, in the quiet woods, when no one is watching.But I don't have that much time, and right now, the most dangerous scene of the Hunger Games just happened.

(End of this chapter)