It's been hardly two days since Chance had been Reaped and he couldn't stop himself from predicting what was going to happen. Blood. Death. I hope they die in ways that are so alike I can't remember any. Don't look in their eyes. The Careers will go first and kill most, but if I can make truces they'll leave me be. I'll get far away. Let the good and the young die, and then--

"Excuse me!" Her nasally voice went pitches far above what he could even imagine. She went on, "Chance Rollen! Young man, I will not be disrespected! You listen to me, idiot. I am your only hope."

Spitting on the hard, concrete floor of the outside, Ardena Rose gave him a sharp look before making a sharper turn to the left. Her hair, brightly colored neon pink and shaped to resemble a box, swung as she did. They'd just finished walking through some large business place that didn't quite make sense to him.

Chance was out of place in the Capitol. He was large, his nails were dirty, and his hair was barely washed. Though they'd given him clothes to wear--"Yours are too dirty!" they'd said--nothing felt right. He was a mountain lion in a fly's nightmare.

"Now, smile! Look cheery. I don't want to lose my job over some filthy redneck lumberjack!"

The click of the cameras was loud as they took pictures. Apparently, it was a big thing for the Tributes to go out and see the Capitol up close and personal--to ramp up the excitement in the city. Chance didn't really care, but it was fun to see the city. After this was over he'd have to go and impress her, apparently, because she knew a lot of people who could make the Games easier on him.

Jogging, he kept himself ahead of her, scratching at the sides of his polyester outfit. Damn fabric, keeps gettin' all rubbed up in the wrong places. His feet weren't as fast as his arms, but they were faster than her. He grinned.

"Hey!" he said to random people. They all looked crazy, but in the fun way, not the strict-but-crazy bunched up short skirt and tight-but-ruffled shirt that showcased Ardena's more than ample breasts. He high fived a kid that held a plastic sword. He kissed the wrists of beautiful young Capitol women. With them he could make great impressions easily.

But Ardena Rose was not pleased with him. With a slap to his right cheek she glared at him and crossed her arms. "We have a time schedule. Or is that too big a word for a simpleton as yourself?"

Ouch. He was not making a good impression.

"I didn't want to be here," she said, spite filling her voice, "I did not want to have to deal with idiots. No! My job, what I'm supposed to be doing, is working as Xana Grel's assistant."

"Xana Grel?"

With a huff she pointed to the label of her skirt, and to the tiny print on his collar that said 'Xana'.

"Oh." He didn't know what to say, which was new to him. Chance was great at talking. If talking were a sport, he'd have every trophy they gave and a Hall of Fame spot. "I'm...sorry?"

"Whatever."

"No, no, I--here, let me make this easier on you. Yeah? We can, like, do that special training you talked about and those talking stuff--" he continued on off that, his voice drowning out the city as they continued to walk.

It was the best thing he'd ever said...but she wasn't listening. That was clear by her pinched expression, her red eyebrows furrowing together, and her sharp green nails tapping on her ribcage.

"Are you done yet?" she asked as he took a breath. With a sigh he nodded. "Good. Because I am through listening to a bawl baby. This way."

With that she began walking again, muttering something about wishing she got stuck with Natalie. Believe me, he thought, so do I. At least Natalie isn't a jerk. Pissnuts, couldn't I have gotten stuck with some cool but totally wise fighter who could help me win? I need to be working on winning.

Thinking so much felt awkward. Chance was used to talking aloud, holding long conversations, anything but having to be quiet and listen to the stiff backed woman's heels clank.

Cars blared horns that sounded like a parade, people wore outfits made entirely of glitter, there was food that looked like it wasn't even edible...not to mention the training room, which was large and beautiful. Filled with sharp weapons, gleaming metal, targets that hadn't ever been used, a brand new simulation room, a station filled with paints and plants, and, oddly enough his favorite, an entire wall that was built for them to climb. He wanted to be there. To be with a bunch of other people, making truces, staying away from the innocents, and keeping himself active. Chance grew more and more jittery the longer he was silent.

Holding in a bomb was hard, and it only took him the short walk back to the hotel for him to burst. Eyes were darting rapidly, trying to find something, anything to concentrate on. The colors. Bright pink, vivid yellows, magnificent greens. The people. Loud, bodacious, eager to excite and be excited. The walls. Covered in drawings and soft glowing lights and random screens built into the walls.

"Can I see Natalie?" is what popped out. He didn't know where that came from, but Ardena didn't seem to mind too awfully bad.

"If you must."

She seemed to have grown so bored that it was impossible to get her attention. Chance wasn't used to people who didn't pay attention to him. His parents, sure, they never did. But they had hard working jobs and he did too. His teachers too didn't care, but they didn't matter. Everyone else watched him. They laughed with him. Even rude bullies liked him. Chance was popular and he enjoyed that.

Ardena hadn't been so easily impressed. She seemed to hate him and everything he stood for. She was wanting him to die, she didn't want him to get any sponsors or for him to impress anyone. I must get her to like me.

The urge was stronger than anything.

So he grinned again, showing off his nice teeth, and gave her a wink. "Aw, come on, lady! You look awful stiff. What, you need a massage? I hear I give good ones."

"No." Sharp, strict.

"What can I do to make you like me?"

"Excuse me? Do not talk to me. You are going to your room and if Natalie is there you will talk. If not, I will go over ways to get people to like you and then later tonight you will be made over so you no longer smell and look like a donkey's behind."

"You don't mean-"

"I do mean!" she snapped. Green eyes wild, Ardena stared him down for a minute before stepping into a large elevator. "Follow. Now."

With a large sigh he did as told, feeling a burning sensation in his throat. It wasn't like acid, or that feeling of where he was going to cry. No, it was something deeper. Chance, though, was never taught about his emotions. He didn't learn the differences between them--only what they were. Sadness? No. I'm not sad. Angry? Jealous? God dammit! It alluded him. A mysterious condition that kept him just before boiling point--at ninety-nine degrees but never reaching the full one hundred.

The elevator was cold and sleek, playing no music. Considering the fact that the two of them were only in it for a few minutes it didn't need any. Ardena made those minutes feel like hours with her glares. The woman was stuck on hating him. Chance could feel his every chance at getting a sponsor slipping away by the second. Surely there had to be a way, any way, for her to like him.

The doors slid open with the slightest whoosh. Ardena breathed in deeply, nostrils flaring, and gave a short smile at the scent of lemons and stale cleaners. She clapped her hands, summoning an Avox, and ordered herself a glass of champagne. The boy nodded his head and left without a single noise.

The apartment was large and well furnished. Only the best for the tributes, of course. The living room, where the elevator had took them, held a large black and gray couch. To the left, Natalie's room could be found. To the right, and up a few steps, his. Direct ahead and they'd be in the dining room, where the table was larger than the couch.

"Run off now," she told Chance. Under her breath she added, "Finally I get rid of the beast."

That was it.

That pressure that had built was raging. Chance slammed his hand into the wall, "You're supposed to help me win, dammit!"

She laughed. "Help you win?"

"My mentor said to impress you--that you could get me sponsored! You're nothing but a jerk who cares more about herself than anything!" he shouted, feeling the stress and anger fall off him and into the air. "Well you'll be next when I win!"

She raised an eyebrow, tilting her narrow face to the left just the slightest.

"When I win you'll realize how stupid you are," he said. "I don't need your help. I need to be training. I need to be--"

"Getting smarter?"

"Excuse me?"

A perfectly polished hand waved about in the air. "You're an idiot. Sure, you're strong. You can probably kill off anyone who directly attacks you. But these kids are smart. They can plan ahead."

"I can-"

She waved her hand again. The Avox quickly entered to hand her the glass and ran back out. Before speaking she took a sip, all the while keeping an index finger raised to him. Chance bit his tongue hard, feeling the numbness begin to spread.

I can't just chop down a tree...all they have here are people as dense as trees.

"I saw your grades in school. You are barely above lowest in the class. Strong, and you have a good temper...but that doesn't get you far. I saw the way you looked at the younger tributes. You care too much," she explained, "and you aren't as fast as them. They know how to manipulate, how to get someone on their side only to kill them. You hardly know poison berries from blueberries."

He scratched at his sides, knowing what she said was true. Tongue hot and teeth harshly gritting, Chance remained quiet as she lectured him. As much as he hated to admit it...she was right.

If he couldn't prove himself there was no way he'd win.

"I can do this."

"How? Your only chance is to ally with someone who's useful," she said, taking another sip. Her white teeth had the smallest hint of green lipstick. He didn't mention that.

"What if I can get a sponsor, like you say? I can impress them--"

"Oh, right! You can what...chop a tree? Lift some weights? Impressive!" The sarcasm in each word was overwhelming. Her tone only seemed to get more pitchy as she drank. "It's not like the Careers can do that...only, wait, they can. And they're better at it than you. Plus, they have their deep dark tragic backstories. Everyone falls for that."

The strength was sapping away from him slowly but surely. He slackened his stance, almost slouching as he faced her.

"What can I do?"

She shrugged, then took another sip. It smelled bitter and strong. "I guess you can just wait and hope your death is fast, kid."

"I can't give up," he told her, hating the whine in his voice. "You don't get it. I can't lose. I can't die. It's...I don't want to die."

"Kid, no one wants to die."

His voice grew stronger, deeper, "I'll do anything you want. But I will not die out there. Got that? I can dress up in your outfits, make myself look as weak and stupid as you want. I'll make allies. I will do anything to survive, you got that? I'm going home."

"No. You're. Not."

He took a step closer to her, breathing in that fermented grape smell as he stared her down. She didn't blink. Neither did he.

"You listen," he basically growled, "I'm going home."

"Funny, I didn't know babies could be so stubborn."

"I'm going--"

"To become a broken record? Yes, I think you established this." She took another long gulp and finished the glass. In the simplest of tosses it was thrown at a wall. Glass shattered.

Another Avox, this time an older man with scars covering his head, ran out from behind a door to clean it up. Chance, trying as hard as he could to pay attention to her, couldn't help but wonder where the man's scars came from.

Ardena snapped her fingers until he glanced back. Her cheeks were flushed, though from the alcohol or their argument he couldn't say. Her long nail dug into his chest as she spoke each word, "You are a weak, stupid, worthless, redneck idiot who will get nowhere. When you die, I'm going to laugh. Like hell I'll get you any support. You have signed your death certificate."

"Shit!"

"Too late for that," she said, smirking. Her hands clapped again and she ordered more wine from the younger boy. "Oh, look, you've given me a headache. Weren't you wanting to do something?" Those nails returned to touch her temples as she massaged them.

"You're not-"

Once again, she interrupted him. Each word was filled with contempt, some even sounding as if she were losing her emotion. Her voice was as lifeless as her eyes. "You failed, Chance. You can't impress anyone. I saw your parents during the Reaping. They're so certain you'll make it home, aren't they?"

Knuckles turned white as he gripped them hard. Jerk. That pressure was back, thick and heavy and laced with the want to break something. Anything. Especially her head. She's awful. A Capital prick.

"Your sisters too. How cute. Who was it you called out to? Melody? Maggie?"

He could barely shove her name out from his wall of gritted teeth, "Margie."

"Cute. Now, if she were here, that girl would win. She's young, beautiful, and looks like she could win over anyone's heart. She could make allies easily. You, on the other hand-"

It struck him like lightning and sucked the air from his lungs. The smile that grazed his face was wide as he cut her off, "I can join the Careers. That's how I'll win them over, right? I'll go and be that stupid, brawny idiot from Seven who just wants to win. They'll love me. No one will ever, ever suspect it. I can do this. I can."

She pursed her lips, not responding for the longest time. Come on...say yes. I need to win. I'm not dying out there. Somehow, that Avox had finished cleaning up the glass and had disappeared again. They were like a house pet--always there but always hidden until called.

Finally, Ardena shrugged her shoulders and sighed lightly. "There's the smallest, tiniest chance in the world that would work."

He nodded, "That's okay. I'm the biggest Chance I know."