sawed off shotgun. {sinead/cedric}

If she had learned anything from the 75th games, it was to never falter. Even throughout the terror he endured, Affron never once faltered. He never once let the audience know what thoughts spiralled through his mind.

But Sinead knew her brother. She knew the thought of taking a life scared the shit out of him. She knew that even with all the trauma and hardships he endured, being the underdog for the first time in his life had taken a toll on him. In the Seam, he was the alpha. He was fearless - of life, of Peacekeepers, of others in the District. In the arena, he was a nobody in comparison to the likes of the other tributes.

As she wiped her tear-stained cheeks, she wondered how he felt standing in her position. She was porcelain compared to him - so vulnerable and easy to crack. No matter how much she lectured herself, she could not shake the anxiety. It was an entity of herself that loomed over her - like a gnat that refused to be squashed, buzzing in her ear with every second that passed.

They had barely left District Twelve, and she had already felt like she was failing the Games. She knew she needed to cease her fear - even if it still ached inside of her, reminding her of the limited time she had left.

Her mother's advice ran through her mind.

Facades are everything.

She fixed her hair, which had knotted from her mothers fingers running through them as she reassured her about the events prior. Just be smart. Remember what I've taught you. She licked her chapped lips and wiped the remaining of the tears away as she picked herself up off the floor, walking through into the next train car where the rest of her entourage remained.

What lay beyond the car doors was the sight of someone who was dealing with their situation a lot better than she.

She didn't know Cedric Hardin personally, but in the populace of such a small District people spoke. The name Cedric Hardin was dripping with rumours of deliquinacy, even talk of a stint spent in the Detention Centre. First impressions meant a lot to Sinead - and to her, he was more to the likes of Affron than she ever was.

But to say she was shocked that he seemed perfectly content at the buffet of confections in front of him, with no worry in sight, would be an understatement. 

She thought maybe she could be more like him. Maybe impressing her district partner would be the first step to accomplishing something, anything, in the Games. After all, facades were everything, and she doubted that someone to the likes of Cedric knew much about Sinead herself. She could be an entirely different person if she wanted.

She approached Cedric, her chest puffed and shoulders straight with the most fake confidence she could muster. She cleared her throat as she grabbed an apple, taking an obnoxiously loud bite out of it as she spoke in between her chews.

"So... uh... this trains pretty nice, huh?"

She somehow doubted that her fake confidence was an impenetrable act.