Once the anthem finished, Helena was escorted to an elegant room by a pair of
Peacekeepers who retreat and stand guard at the door. She sat on a velvet couch and waited in silence. Then her father entered. "Papa..." The young tribute said solemnly as tears threatened to spill once more. Grayson ran and locked his daughter in a tight embrace, shaking. "I'm so sorry, Helena. I thought they would wait until you're older." He said. "What do you mean, Papa?" She asked in confusion. "Your grandmother was the winner of the 10th Hunger Games, an enemy in the eyes of the Capitol, and so they are taking it out on you. It's why I've been training you." Grayson explained. "You knew?" Helena asked incredulously. "No, but I assumed. They tried to do the same with me, but it failed." He said, drying the girls' tears.

There was a knock at the door. "You've got two minutes left." The Peacekeeper shouted. Grayson looked in his daughter's eyes. "Helena, you have to listen to me. Use your training, remember what I taught you, and make it out of there alive." He said, causing the girl to nod. "I love you, Papa." Helena cried. "I love you too, darlin." Grayson replied, placing a kiss on her forehead. He then left the girl alone.

The Square was empty now. The podium set has been struck. The tributes and their escorts had been escorted to the car. Helena took one last look at the place where she grew up, spying her father in the distance, before getting in the car. It wasn't long until they reached the train station. A shiny platinum locomotive sat in front of them. Cole helped Helena aboard, offering her a hand before Effie gave them a tour. "250 mph, and you can't feel a thing." She said excitedly. Effie's mentor just sat and observed in the lounge car.

"Helena, this is your room for the journey. Cole, yours is just down the hall." Effie said. Helena was enamoured by her room: it had a double bed; mahogany drawers; a television; an en suite, and all of it was decorated in shades of grey. She sat on the bed and watched as the world flew by her window. Thoughts swirled her mind again, raking through the training her father had given her. It wasn't explicit. Training hidden behind daily tasks. He taught her how to use an axe whilst chopping wood and how to identify different plants whilst harvesting. They often played hide and seek as well as who could climb higher the fastest. Her favourite memory was when her father taught her how to hunt: tracking your prey, killing it with a bow and arrow before cutting it up and preparing it.

She was brought out of her thoughts by a knock at the door. "Helena." Cole's voice was muffled. "Effie says dinner is almost ready, so bathe." He said. "Okay." Helena replied. She entered the en suite. Everything in there was new to her. There's no tub. Instead... a shower. Huh? She hit a knob - shocked when water came out, and she literally recoiled. And there's her reflection caught in the bathroom mirror. It felt like a stranger looking back at her.

When she was clean, she put on her clothes once more and made her way to the dining cart. Everyone was already there - minus Haymitch - and so she took her seat beside Ignius. "Sorry if I'm late." She said, looking at her lap. "Not at all, dear. You were just on time." Ambrosia said warmly. Before them lay the biggest meal Helena had ever seen: lamb chops, carrot soup, mashed potatoes, and green salad. Effie looked at the tributes, confused as to why they weren't eating. "Eat, please. Food's always so scarce in the Arena, you want to go into The Games with some meat on your bones." She said. The two looked to one another before they began - awed by the sheer quantity.

"Where's our mentor?" Cole spoke, his mouth full of food. "Haymitch is taking a nap. It's been an exhausting day." Ambrosia replied. Helena had drowned out the conversation, though, eyes transfixed upon the TV behind Effie. A Nightly Round-up was covering all the Reaping Ceremonies from across Panem today: Twelve Districts, each selecting a lucky boy and girl....

From the wealthy districts, four monstrous and cunning looking teens. Each one was more murderous than the one before.

An injured boy from District 8, limping onto the stage.

And finally, her. The youngest of all the tributes, painted to be hauntingly angelic. Clips of the reaping from District 12 were shown, Cole, Helena, Haymitch stumbling on the stage drunk. Her mentor. A drunk. It was rather unsettling. "Is he going to tell us-" Cole started before getting interrupted by Effie. "I'm thrilled you two have such decent manners! The pair last year ate everything with their hands! It completely upset my digestion." She said absentmindedly. "Euphemia!" Ambrosia scolded whilst Cole glared at her. "Hungry people don't think much about manners." He retorted, stabbing into a lamb chop aggressively. This caused the trainee escort to tighten before glancing at Helena, who had barely spoken the entire meal.

"Checking out the competition?" She asked the young girl. "Yeah, I wanted to see if any were my age, I could've made a friend." Helena replied. "I was looking at the careers." Cole said. "The what? I'm afraid I don't know what you -" Cole interrupted Effie with a 'yes you do' look before speaking. "The Tributes that are trained for the Games by their Districts." He said. "No districts do that." Effie laughed. "That's just a rumour. Everyone knows District training is illegal."

Helena looked at Cole. "Is that why do the winners always come from One, Two, and Four every year?" She questioned, causing the elder tribute to nod. "The Tributes from the wealthier Districts get more Sponsors, that's all. So they get more help. There's

nothing sinister about it." Effie explained, reciting from a textbook she had read at the academy. Tension began to build between Cole and the trainee, but then Haymitch waltzed in, glass in hand.

"I miss supper?" He slurred his question. The drunk Victor sat down, placing his drink on the table and unfolding a napkin on his lap. Then he reached for a bottle of gin. But Cole, reflexively, grabbed his hand to stop him, earning a glare from the mentor. It shocked the hell out of everyone. "Sir, I think we'd both prefer it if you didn't have anymore to drink. You're supposed to be advising us. " Cole said, gesturing to himself and Helena. The girl sat there silently, eating her food and looking at the table. "Here's some advice. Don't die." Haymitch replied coldly before laughing. Cole, out of anger, knocked Haymitch's glass to the floor. "How funny?" He fake laughed as the glass shattered on the floor.

The escorts looked shocked at the boys' outburst. "Only not to us." He finished. Haymitch considered that for a moment, impressed, then slugged the boy in the jaw, knocking him from his chair. Haymitch
reached for the bottle... just as Helena instinctively stabbed at his hand with her knife, barely missing flesh. The knife dug itself into the table. Silence.....

Everyone was awaiting an explosion from Haymitch whilst Helena was terrified at what she had just done. She looked at her shaking hand in disbelief, her father's words echoing in her mind. "Remember your training." The voiced echoed before Haymitch's laugh brought her out of her trance.

"Well. Did I actually get a pair of
fighters this year?" He spoke. It was unexpected. Haymitch then eyed Helena. "Can you hit anything with that knife besides a table?" The young tribute shrugged before yanking the knife from the table. She then threw it to the far wall, watching as stuck between two panels in the wall, hilt deep. Haymitch rose and began studying the two tributes.

"I'll make a deal with you two. You don't interfere with my drinking, and I'll stay sober enough to help you. Is that fair?" He asked, and they nodded. "You'll have to do exactly as I say. About everything." Helena was sceptical at first but decided to go along with it. Effie put some ice in a napkin, handing it to Cole for the bruise reddening his jaw. "No. Let it bruise. People will think you've been mixing it up with the other tributes before you've even entered the Arena." He said.

Ambrosia slammed her hands on the table. "Can you stop acting like a child for one second Haymitch?" She asked angrily, pushing the ice into Cole's hand. Regaining her composure, she sighed. "When we get to the Capitol, you'll be put in the hands of stylists who'll prepare you for your presentation. Their work is vital." Ambrosia stated. "What, like a beauty contest?" The male tribute chuckled. "Yes. It is. And the people who figure that out tend to be the ones who survive. Are you through now?" Haymitch said. Cole shut up.

"As I was saying," Ambrosia resumed. "The best-looking tributes get the most sponsors. Sponsors are the only means of helping you once you're in The Arena. Understood?" The tributes nodded. Haymitch approached the wall, eyeing the knife Helena threw. "Is this where you were aiming?" He asked. "Mhm," the girl nodded. Haymitch smiled, "Good. Eat."