Post by countlivin on May 4, 2019 7:28:25 GMT
Chapter 22: A Matter of Luck
Theoram Warrik
Theo's father, Renald, had been a hard man with a hard code. He knew he would be lucky if he ever came close to the man his father was. Before he gave his life for Panem during the Dark Days, he was a beacon of morality: a symbol of what a citizen of the Capitol could be. If there was one thing that Theo had learned from him, it was the difference between right and wrong.
Theo sometimes doubted there was ever a time when people didn't kill each other for sport. And with so few of them left, he was bewildered at the Capitol's and Snow's amazing disrespect for human life. He understood that sometimes it was necessary to inflict punishment on the guilty, but this… The Hunger Games was punishment on the innocent for the crimes of the guilty long-dead.
"Theo, it's like you're in another world." Everra smiled at him from across the table. Her flowing blue hair glistened in the early morning sunlight. "You've been staring into the distance for a couple minutes now. It's not like I don't love Dorian's input, but you haven't spoken since we exchanged pleasantries."
"Hey!" Dorian shook his head, sitting back in the seat and pulling his dark, red velvet jacket over his suit of bronze. "The old-timer probably has enough to think about right now, eh?"
"Just… remembering someone," Theo replied, staring back off into the space between them.
"It isn't any use brooding on the past, old man," Dorian said, casting an arrogant eye over the metropolis below the balcony. "There's nothing back there but failed memories and bad times."
"Leave him be." Everra smacked him on the arm, at which the man chuckled. Then she turned back to Theo. "So you're the new guy, huh? It's not often we get someone as experienced as yourself on the panel. And as a rookie?"
"It's been a long road, getting where I am now." Theo smiled.
Everra and Dorian were two of the other Gamemakers on the panel, and before today, he had never met them. Roman had called him up earlier that day to inform him of the return of the scouting team. They would be throwing a party upon their arrival at the Capitol. Roman had invited three of his closest friends, and one of them had, of course, been Theo. He found it strange… Roman was late to his own invitation.
"I know I'm not supposed to ask, but how's the arena looking?" Dorian asked the woman across the table from him. The man was young and inexperienced. He was only just out of the academy and had shared certain classes with Lynona. She had laughed when Theo told her about their lunch date with Roman; the boy was disruptive and annoying, and a bit of a try-hard. Theo could tell just from looking at him, with his coifed-up blond ponytail, and extravagant lace bowtie that he wasn't the most forward-thinking individual. According to Rhetora, this was the latest fashion trend. According to Theo, it was almost laughable. Yet, even with how he appeared, he still looked at Theo with his monocle and his limp as if he was the strange one.
"You're right. You're not supposed to ask," Everra replied, shaking her head. She was an older woman, around Rhetora's age. She had dyed her hair bright blue to keep it from graying too far, yet it still shined through clear as day. Her sunglasses looked very expensive and wrapped over her ears and down her neck. Roman had told him she was the most senior Gamemaker on the panel, even older than him. She had done work on the Eighth Annual Hunger Games, and if anyone had a question, they went to her. "You'll see the arena when it's time to get to work on it. We each have our part to play. This is not yours. Theo, what is your job?"
"I am running the sponsor drones."
"Ah," she smiled. "It's a small job, but an important one."
"Too bad you don't have much time left to fill it." Dorian chuckled to himself. Perhaps he had hoped Theo's hearing had already started to go, since he lacked a certain perception of his age… Theo was barely forty… Hell, Everra was older than he was! But since she had aged well, and Theo's hair was already gray at the roots, it was him who was scrutinized for it.
"Son, don't talk disrespect like that," Theo told him, a hand on his mahogany cane. "I had already shot and killed a man before you were even born."
"I bet you don't even know when I was born," he replied, a snarky grin on his lips.
"No, but I know when I was."
"Oh my god," Everra giggled. "You two are like a couple of school boys. Play nice." Dorian and Theo exchanged a sneer. "Where is our host? How was someone this unorganized ever chosen as Head Gamemaker?"
"And I suppose you assume to take his place?" Dorian asked her.
She looked embarrassed. "Well," she sighed. "I have been around a lot longer than he was."
"Your seniority isn't what makes you a good Gamemaker, Everra," Dorian told her. "Your ideas and creativity is what does that. What do you bring to the table except remarkable organization skills?"
She was visibly hurt. "I can come up with arenas too!" she replied. "A handful of summers ago, I wrote up a detailed report of my design for one that took place around an old warehouse in District Two. It didn't get used, but I received praise from Head Gamemaker Grimwald at the time for my ingenuity. Sure, maybe Roman is pretty good at his job… I don't think I'd be a bad replacement, though."
"Ever think he could just have been lying to soften the blow?" Dorian shook his head menacingly. "I took a look at your blueprints—they were sloppy. Stairwells gave the tributes too much height advantage. There were too many clearings. You ever tried to block a speeding arrow with just good will alone?"
"It was better than the desert," she replied defensively.
"There is one reason why Roman is Head Gamemaker," Theo spoke up, ending their childish dispute. "It's a quality which most lack… vision."
"Funny coming from the guy with a monacle," Dorian scoffed.
Theo ignored him. "When you read a good novel, what is important? The setting, or the story?"
Dorian chuckled—he was not a man of literature, that much was obvious. Everra replied for him. "The story," she said hesitantly, as if she knew where the argument was going.
"Exactly," Theo continued. "You aren't going to focus so much on the place things happen, but instead on what is happening there. The Games are just like a novel, and Roman is a novelist. You have a beginning, a middle, and an end. The characters—or in this case, the tributes—are going to make the setting come alive. A simple meadow is now a place of peace and serenity… A flowing creek is a reminder of home. You see, Roman doesn't care about whether or not the forest is tropical or deciduous. Roman cares about the tributes, and the audience follows suit. The arena is nothing more than a setting."
There was a moment of silence. He could tell that Dorian was pining for some snarky comment to fling at him, but couldn't find one. The same could be said of Everra. They didn't know their boss better than his best friend did.
"Well… Regardless, I still think the warehouse was a poor choice of scenery," Dorian said.
"Piss off," Everra mumbled in response.
Fifteen minutes passed that afternoon, and Roman still hadn't arrived. Dorian grew ever more agitated, and even Everra was budging in her seat, impatiently tapping her fingers on the table. They started to wonder whether or not he was coming, and Dorian started to ask them if he could leave. Both Theo and Everra responded no. Maybe he was having trouble on the rails…
Theo hadn't seen Roman in seven months—way longer than any of his previous scouting trips. With how he'd described it the last time they met, this one would be more important than any before. Theo hoped he didn't change the rules too much, even if the idea was President Snow's himself. He knew the two of them were closer than most were to the president, but coming from the man who executed his father's general in cold blood, Roman was definitely on uneven ground.
"So, I trust you received your honorary audience with President Snow?" Everra asked, turning her head in his direction. She knocked a strand of blue hair from her eye. "Everyone gets one."
"I did," Theo replied. "He cannot be called the friendliest of men…"
"That title's reserved for but a few," she said. "Did he give you the speech about the city from his balcony? He asked you if you approved of his nation? What did you say?"
"I said yes like any sane person," Theo answered plainly. He smiled inwardly when he continued. "You would have to be mad to stand up to President Snow and his way of life, even if his polices are cruel and wrong."
Dorian sighed. "So you're mad, then. You just admitted your guilt. The Capitol's rules are not to be spoken against, Theo. They aren't cruel, they are humane, and you should recognize that."
Theo smiled. This was an argument he couldn't lose. "Well, I suppose it was a slip of the tongue, then."
"You can't just—"
Before Dorian could finish, there came a deafening crash from above, and the sound of glass shattering. In an instant, Everra peered up and screeched like a hawk. Theo didn't have time to see what had happened before a body in black came tumbling down into view. It collapsed just behind Dorian's seat and Theo immediately recognized him: Roman.
Shards of glass were littered around the spot where he'd fallen. Theo instantly stood, leaning on his mahogany cane heavily, trying too hard not to panic. "Oh my god!" Dorian wailed. "Oh my god! What the hell?!" The level above theirs, the glass was broken where the small man had been hurled through.
"Roman… Roman!" Theo whispered at him. There was no answer.
"What are we gonna do?" Everra was panicking too, fanning her face with her hands. "Is he dead? Oh my god, is he dead?!"
"Get him up, Theo!" Dorian shouted. "Do something!"
Theo carefully looked over Roman's body, running over it for signs of a wound, but he couldn't find any. It didn't mean anything, though, because the damage could be internal. He shot a gaze back to the window his friend had fallen from. He must have been pushed! It had been only one story… If he had fallen any farther, he would have collapsed from the edge of the balcony and plummeted three hundred feet to the ground below…
"What do I do?!" Dorian was yelling over and over. "Oh no! I've never seen anything like this before! What do I do?"
100% of readers chose to [A. Tell Dorian to call the medics.]
"Boy, shut the hell up!" Theo bellowed back. Clearly he was the only one of the three of them who knew how to take charge. Neither of them would make good Heads of Gamemaking Department… There were more important things here than screaming and panic. If they had just witnessed an attempted murder, he couldn't be the only one with sense.
Theo only took a second to ponder the thought that his best friend could be dead. Fear had no place here. He was used to following orders; it was how he'd survived this long in the Capitol. But he knew how to lead. He knew this was his time.
"Dorian, get the infirmary on the phone," he called over his shoulder. He could hear the scuttling of the man's feet to a quiet place in a hurry. "Everra, get down here and help me."
Everra quickly bent down next to him, chattering nervously, "Is-is he dead? Oh my god, Theo, is he dead?"
"He's still alive. But he won't be for long if we don't do something," Theo told her with a unique sense of urgency. The more he tried not to feel fear, the more it slipped through the cracks. "Look for injuries."
She started to ravage over the man's body, feeling for any signs of blood or wounds. Theo lifted Roman's eyes open and looked at his pupils for their dilation. They looked normal… "I'm not finding any," Everra said. "His arm seems broken, but there's nothing else that suggests an injury. Is he unconscious?"
"I don't know, probably… I'm a Gamemaker, not a doctor." Theo reached for his cane and stood with great effort, staring down at his friend's limp body.
"Neither am I," Everra sighed. She placed her hands on her hips and looked back towards the broken window on the floor above them. "Someone needs to go up there. Whoever threw him out has got to still be there. He could be getting away!"
"I appreciate your eagerness to avenge this man, but now is not the time for rash actions," Theo replied, calmly. "Catching the attacker won't do anything to help Roman for the time being."
"How can you say that?" Everra peered at him. "You'd just let him go?"
"Our job is to make sure Roman stays alive. The Peacekeepers will do the rest."
"Roman was your best friend."
"—is my friend," he corrected. "Don't speak in absolutes."
She snarled and turned away, directing her attention towards the upstairs. Theo could smell the doubt in her. There was a part of her that wanted to ignore his orders and run anyway. There was a time when Theo would have felt this way too. He'd only made it this far because of his mind, and he didn't intend to stop now.
"…Yes, my name is Dorian Stenry," Dorian spoke into the emergency channel on his cell phone. "…Yes, I'm fine. I don't like blood at all…"
Theo turned his head and frowned. "Boy, you're a Gamemaker. Don't act like you've never seen the dead before."
"Yes. Thank you." Dorian ended the call. "They're on their way," he told them. "Don't call me boy again."
"You're acting like one," Theo shot back. "There isn't even any blood on him. He's got no injuries but a broken arm."
Dorian sighed in relief. "Well, that's good. Should we… move him?"
"Yes. Get him to a couch or a bed," Theo told them. "I think that's good for head trauma."
Dorian and Everra followed his command in an instant, heaving Roman onto a nearby couch inside the building. After the effort, Dorian was visibly exhausted. Theo would have helped with it if he wasn't already very weak. Then both of them went back outside to sit down in the sun around the table they were scheduled to meet at, a day's work well done… Theo didn't give up as easily as them. He knelt down beside his friend and eventually had to sit crisscross on the ground. His leg couldn't take it.
"What happened to you, old friend?" Theo asked, knowing no one would answer, yet he hadn't seen Roman in months. He could resist talking to him. "Do you remember the day a few years ago… There was the victor from District Six. Big, bulky boy… Do you remember what he did after he won?"
Roman only replied with silence.
"He tried to attack the president on the Victory Tour… It was almost a successful assassination too. Do you remember that you almost guided him by the hand through that Games? It was almost like you knew… You knew he would revolt. But you claim you didn't. Of course you didn't… Can't risk your relationship with Mr. Coriolanus… Do you see what the Games do to people, Roman? They shot that poor boy in the back of the head, in front of all the cheering people that were excited he was still alive… That's why I'm going to end them. They're evil."
"I remember the boy," Roman replied faintly. When Theo turned around in shock, the man's eyes were open, staring down at him with a strange mixture of fear and guilt. Theo hadn't meant for him to hear any of that… With one fell swoop almost all his plans were out the window. "I remember the boy, and I remember how I killed him."
End of Chapter 22
Theoram Warrik
Theo's father, Renald, had been a hard man with a hard code. He knew he would be lucky if he ever came close to the man his father was. Before he gave his life for Panem during the Dark Days, he was a beacon of morality: a symbol of what a citizen of the Capitol could be. If there was one thing that Theo had learned from him, it was the difference between right and wrong.
Theo sometimes doubted there was ever a time when people didn't kill each other for sport. And with so few of them left, he was bewildered at the Capitol's and Snow's amazing disrespect for human life. He understood that sometimes it was necessary to inflict punishment on the guilty, but this… The Hunger Games was punishment on the innocent for the crimes of the guilty long-dead.
"Theo, it's like you're in another world." Everra smiled at him from across the table. Her flowing blue hair glistened in the early morning sunlight. "You've been staring into the distance for a couple minutes now. It's not like I don't love Dorian's input, but you haven't spoken since we exchanged pleasantries."
"Hey!" Dorian shook his head, sitting back in the seat and pulling his dark, red velvet jacket over his suit of bronze. "The old-timer probably has enough to think about right now, eh?"
"Just… remembering someone," Theo replied, staring back off into the space between them.
"It isn't any use brooding on the past, old man," Dorian said, casting an arrogant eye over the metropolis below the balcony. "There's nothing back there but failed memories and bad times."
"Leave him be." Everra smacked him on the arm, at which the man chuckled. Then she turned back to Theo. "So you're the new guy, huh? It's not often we get someone as experienced as yourself on the panel. And as a rookie?"
"It's been a long road, getting where I am now." Theo smiled.
Everra and Dorian were two of the other Gamemakers on the panel, and before today, he had never met them. Roman had called him up earlier that day to inform him of the return of the scouting team. They would be throwing a party upon their arrival at the Capitol. Roman had invited three of his closest friends, and one of them had, of course, been Theo. He found it strange… Roman was late to his own invitation.
"I know I'm not supposed to ask, but how's the arena looking?" Dorian asked the woman across the table from him. The man was young and inexperienced. He was only just out of the academy and had shared certain classes with Lynona. She had laughed when Theo told her about their lunch date with Roman; the boy was disruptive and annoying, and a bit of a try-hard. Theo could tell just from looking at him, with his coifed-up blond ponytail, and extravagant lace bowtie that he wasn't the most forward-thinking individual. According to Rhetora, this was the latest fashion trend. According to Theo, it was almost laughable. Yet, even with how he appeared, he still looked at Theo with his monocle and his limp as if he was the strange one.
"You're right. You're not supposed to ask," Everra replied, shaking her head. She was an older woman, around Rhetora's age. She had dyed her hair bright blue to keep it from graying too far, yet it still shined through clear as day. Her sunglasses looked very expensive and wrapped over her ears and down her neck. Roman had told him she was the most senior Gamemaker on the panel, even older than him. She had done work on the Eighth Annual Hunger Games, and if anyone had a question, they went to her. "You'll see the arena when it's time to get to work on it. We each have our part to play. This is not yours. Theo, what is your job?"
"I am running the sponsor drones."
"Ah," she smiled. "It's a small job, but an important one."
"Too bad you don't have much time left to fill it." Dorian chuckled to himself. Perhaps he had hoped Theo's hearing had already started to go, since he lacked a certain perception of his age… Theo was barely forty… Hell, Everra was older than he was! But since she had aged well, and Theo's hair was already gray at the roots, it was him who was scrutinized for it.
"Son, don't talk disrespect like that," Theo told him, a hand on his mahogany cane. "I had already shot and killed a man before you were even born."
"I bet you don't even know when I was born," he replied, a snarky grin on his lips.
"No, but I know when I was."
"Oh my god," Everra giggled. "You two are like a couple of school boys. Play nice." Dorian and Theo exchanged a sneer. "Where is our host? How was someone this unorganized ever chosen as Head Gamemaker?"
"And I suppose you assume to take his place?" Dorian asked her.
She looked embarrassed. "Well," she sighed. "I have been around a lot longer than he was."
"Your seniority isn't what makes you a good Gamemaker, Everra," Dorian told her. "Your ideas and creativity is what does that. What do you bring to the table except remarkable organization skills?"
She was visibly hurt. "I can come up with arenas too!" she replied. "A handful of summers ago, I wrote up a detailed report of my design for one that took place around an old warehouse in District Two. It didn't get used, but I received praise from Head Gamemaker Grimwald at the time for my ingenuity. Sure, maybe Roman is pretty good at his job… I don't think I'd be a bad replacement, though."
"Ever think he could just have been lying to soften the blow?" Dorian shook his head menacingly. "I took a look at your blueprints—they were sloppy. Stairwells gave the tributes too much height advantage. There were too many clearings. You ever tried to block a speeding arrow with just good will alone?"
"It was better than the desert," she replied defensively.
"There is one reason why Roman is Head Gamemaker," Theo spoke up, ending their childish dispute. "It's a quality which most lack… vision."
"Funny coming from the guy with a monacle," Dorian scoffed.
Theo ignored him. "When you read a good novel, what is important? The setting, or the story?"
Dorian chuckled—he was not a man of literature, that much was obvious. Everra replied for him. "The story," she said hesitantly, as if she knew where the argument was going.
"Exactly," Theo continued. "You aren't going to focus so much on the place things happen, but instead on what is happening there. The Games are just like a novel, and Roman is a novelist. You have a beginning, a middle, and an end. The characters—or in this case, the tributes—are going to make the setting come alive. A simple meadow is now a place of peace and serenity… A flowing creek is a reminder of home. You see, Roman doesn't care about whether or not the forest is tropical or deciduous. Roman cares about the tributes, and the audience follows suit. The arena is nothing more than a setting."
There was a moment of silence. He could tell that Dorian was pining for some snarky comment to fling at him, but couldn't find one. The same could be said of Everra. They didn't know their boss better than his best friend did.
"Well… Regardless, I still think the warehouse was a poor choice of scenery," Dorian said.
"Piss off," Everra mumbled in response.
Fifteen minutes passed that afternoon, and Roman still hadn't arrived. Dorian grew ever more agitated, and even Everra was budging in her seat, impatiently tapping her fingers on the table. They started to wonder whether or not he was coming, and Dorian started to ask them if he could leave. Both Theo and Everra responded no. Maybe he was having trouble on the rails…
Theo hadn't seen Roman in seven months—way longer than any of his previous scouting trips. With how he'd described it the last time they met, this one would be more important than any before. Theo hoped he didn't change the rules too much, even if the idea was President Snow's himself. He knew the two of them were closer than most were to the president, but coming from the man who executed his father's general in cold blood, Roman was definitely on uneven ground.
"So, I trust you received your honorary audience with President Snow?" Everra asked, turning her head in his direction. She knocked a strand of blue hair from her eye. "Everyone gets one."
"I did," Theo replied. "He cannot be called the friendliest of men…"
"That title's reserved for but a few," she said. "Did he give you the speech about the city from his balcony? He asked you if you approved of his nation? What did you say?"
"I said yes like any sane person," Theo answered plainly. He smiled inwardly when he continued. "You would have to be mad to stand up to President Snow and his way of life, even if his polices are cruel and wrong."
Dorian sighed. "So you're mad, then. You just admitted your guilt. The Capitol's rules are not to be spoken against, Theo. They aren't cruel, they are humane, and you should recognize that."
Theo smiled. This was an argument he couldn't lose. "Well, I suppose it was a slip of the tongue, then."
"You can't just—"
Before Dorian could finish, there came a deafening crash from above, and the sound of glass shattering. In an instant, Everra peered up and screeched like a hawk. Theo didn't have time to see what had happened before a body in black came tumbling down into view. It collapsed just behind Dorian's seat and Theo immediately recognized him: Roman.
Shards of glass were littered around the spot where he'd fallen. Theo instantly stood, leaning on his mahogany cane heavily, trying too hard not to panic. "Oh my god!" Dorian wailed. "Oh my god! What the hell?!" The level above theirs, the glass was broken where the small man had been hurled through.
"Roman… Roman!" Theo whispered at him. There was no answer.
"What are we gonna do?" Everra was panicking too, fanning her face with her hands. "Is he dead? Oh my god, is he dead?!"
"Get him up, Theo!" Dorian shouted. "Do something!"
Theo carefully looked over Roman's body, running over it for signs of a wound, but he couldn't find any. It didn't mean anything, though, because the damage could be internal. He shot a gaze back to the window his friend had fallen from. He must have been pushed! It had been only one story… If he had fallen any farther, he would have collapsed from the edge of the balcony and plummeted three hundred feet to the ground below…
"What do I do?!" Dorian was yelling over and over. "Oh no! I've never seen anything like this before! What do I do?"
100% of readers chose to [A. Tell Dorian to call the medics.]
"Boy, shut the hell up!" Theo bellowed back. Clearly he was the only one of the three of them who knew how to take charge. Neither of them would make good Heads of Gamemaking Department… There were more important things here than screaming and panic. If they had just witnessed an attempted murder, he couldn't be the only one with sense.
Theo only took a second to ponder the thought that his best friend could be dead. Fear had no place here. He was used to following orders; it was how he'd survived this long in the Capitol. But he knew how to lead. He knew this was his time.
"Dorian, get the infirmary on the phone," he called over his shoulder. He could hear the scuttling of the man's feet to a quiet place in a hurry. "Everra, get down here and help me."
Everra quickly bent down next to him, chattering nervously, "Is-is he dead? Oh my god, Theo, is he dead?"
"He's still alive. But he won't be for long if we don't do something," Theo told her with a unique sense of urgency. The more he tried not to feel fear, the more it slipped through the cracks. "Look for injuries."
She started to ravage over the man's body, feeling for any signs of blood or wounds. Theo lifted Roman's eyes open and looked at his pupils for their dilation. They looked normal… "I'm not finding any," Everra said. "His arm seems broken, but there's nothing else that suggests an injury. Is he unconscious?"
"I don't know, probably… I'm a Gamemaker, not a doctor." Theo reached for his cane and stood with great effort, staring down at his friend's limp body.
"Neither am I," Everra sighed. She placed her hands on her hips and looked back towards the broken window on the floor above them. "Someone needs to go up there. Whoever threw him out has got to still be there. He could be getting away!"
"I appreciate your eagerness to avenge this man, but now is not the time for rash actions," Theo replied, calmly. "Catching the attacker won't do anything to help Roman for the time being."
"How can you say that?" Everra peered at him. "You'd just let him go?"
"Our job is to make sure Roman stays alive. The Peacekeepers will do the rest."
"Roman was your best friend."
"—is my friend," he corrected. "Don't speak in absolutes."
She snarled and turned away, directing her attention towards the upstairs. Theo could smell the doubt in her. There was a part of her that wanted to ignore his orders and run anyway. There was a time when Theo would have felt this way too. He'd only made it this far because of his mind, and he didn't intend to stop now.
"…Yes, my name is Dorian Stenry," Dorian spoke into the emergency channel on his cell phone. "…Yes, I'm fine. I don't like blood at all…"
Theo turned his head and frowned. "Boy, you're a Gamemaker. Don't act like you've never seen the dead before."
"Yes. Thank you." Dorian ended the call. "They're on their way," he told them. "Don't call me boy again."
"You're acting like one," Theo shot back. "There isn't even any blood on him. He's got no injuries but a broken arm."
Dorian sighed in relief. "Well, that's good. Should we… move him?"
"Yes. Get him to a couch or a bed," Theo told them. "I think that's good for head trauma."
Dorian and Everra followed his command in an instant, heaving Roman onto a nearby couch inside the building. After the effort, Dorian was visibly exhausted. Theo would have helped with it if he wasn't already very weak. Then both of them went back outside to sit down in the sun around the table they were scheduled to meet at, a day's work well done… Theo didn't give up as easily as them. He knelt down beside his friend and eventually had to sit crisscross on the ground. His leg couldn't take it.
"What happened to you, old friend?" Theo asked, knowing no one would answer, yet he hadn't seen Roman in months. He could resist talking to him. "Do you remember the day a few years ago… There was the victor from District Six. Big, bulky boy… Do you remember what he did after he won?"
Roman only replied with silence.
"He tried to attack the president on the Victory Tour… It was almost a successful assassination too. Do you remember that you almost guided him by the hand through that Games? It was almost like you knew… You knew he would revolt. But you claim you didn't. Of course you didn't… Can't risk your relationship with Mr. Coriolanus… Do you see what the Games do to people, Roman? They shot that poor boy in the back of the head, in front of all the cheering people that were excited he was still alive… That's why I'm going to end them. They're evil."
"I remember the boy," Roman replied faintly. When Theo turned around in shock, the man's eyes were open, staring down at him with a strange mixture of fear and guilt. Theo hadn't meant for him to hear any of that… With one fell swoop almost all his plans were out the window. "I remember the boy, and I remember how I killed him."
End of Chapter 22