Let's Hear the Applause {Chelsey}

Bravo Nicandro
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Oh, oh, say that I'm never really wanted but,
You never know it from the look on my face
And I spend my time at the bottom of the barrel
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On the way home from training, Valentine seems to disappear from my sight. There's something about the first Saturday of every month that's suspicious. He always leaves and doesn't come back until late in the afternoon. I never bother to question him about it though. Let him have fun with whatever he's doing. Instead of making my way home, I go a different route as well.

I head towards the edge of the district, where beautiful scenery always occupies. The vast plain I'm aiming for is not part of the fenced off forest. I don't think they would dare do such a thing in this district. It's comprised of mostly training halls and stores and secret buildings. Two really needs something beautiful in here.

I really need a place to rest. Even though Valentine was antsy to leave to go to his secret place, he still was a bit hard on me. I have a few cuts along my bare arms. They aren't anything major, but they still need to be treated. I don't have any bandages on me or anything, but maybe there's some moss around. I've seen tributes use it in the games plenty of times to know it works. Unfortunately, there is none around, so I resort to wrapping my fingers around the small wounds.

I stumble, a bit woozy, around before I finally lay in a bed of cool blades of grass. My eyelids open and shut, begging me to sleep. And I do sleep, actually, on and off. I don't have dreams, for the sleep is only a few minutes long each time. The sun, its presence not obvious, still warms me in my short slumber. I finally fall completely asleep, though, maybe because I'm woozy from my wounds or because I've been sleep deprived.

When I awake, I find myself laying in grass, just as I was before I was asleep. I still drift in and out of sleep, mesmerized by the scenery. The light blue sky dotted with fluffy white clouds, the sun half-way hiding behind a cloud, the rich green blades surrounding me, it all is so beautiful. The scene seems more picturesque than real. I wish I could stay here forever, but I know I have to leave soon. I'm supposed to be "swinging by the market" on my way home to snag some fresh fruits for dinner.

Why my mother can't do this herself, I don't know. It's not that hard for either of us, really, but it would be more convenient if she did it. She knows what all of us like, and I don't. I don't even know what half of the fruits names are. Most names are so exotic, so foreign, so different. I suppose me and Valentine's names are like that too, though. Different. Foreign. Exotic.

I push my self into a sitting position, my palms squishing a few blades. I yawn and open my eyes wide, staring at the grass. I could have sworn it was green when I was laying down, but now it's a dull gray color. I mumble inanities under my breath as I push myself all the way up and on my feet. Now all the greenery has turned grey, the remaining tops of some trees, the stems of some lucky flowers, and the blades of grass of course.

I sigh; the beauty of life has been sucked away from me once again. The colors red and green disappear and turn into shades of gray and tan. I sigh once more and make my way back to civilization. It's not too long before I reach roads and paths and sidewalks. I didn't venture too far into the area. I know I am a bit far from the market, though, so I whistle. I whistle a happy tune the whole journey there, trying not to think of thoughts of the two who had been sent into the games.

Oh, how I had wished to be in these games, so I could escape my lonely world. Sending in Julian after Midas had not come back was simply brilliant, though. Julian has a great chance of coming back; maybe his chance was even bigger than Midas' had been. Either way, I have no control over it now. I stop whistling as the market comes into view. The brown carts filled with rainbows of fruits of many shapes and sizes spring into my line of vision.

I have no idea what my mother wishes for me to buy. Not apples, strawberries, or cherries, at least. She knows how much discomfort that would bring me. I grab a woven basket and begin to fill it with oranges and fruits very similar to oranges. Oranges have always been my favorite fruit, with their plethora of juice and their luscious scent. I'm stuck in dream world again though, and I'm not paying attention to where I'm going.

I bump into somebody, or rather, they bump into me, and the fruit spills from my basket. Some rolls under the table, while others bounce into the road. I moan and try to pick up the ones closest to me; the ones that would be the least affected and could have the skin washed off easily. I look up at the person who has bumped into me. I see a girl who is a couple years younger than me. She has brown hair and grey eyes, but they both have a clue that they both aren't the original.

Even though its really not my fault, I brush my hands on my pants and apologize. "Uh, sorry about that. I guess I wasn't paying attention." I put a hand on the back of my head. It's instinct both me and Valentine do when we're uncomfortable and nervous. I remove my hand quickly, though, and turn back to the fruit. I gather what's left of the oranges and orange based fruits, my basket once again filled to the brim with fruit.

I know I should walk away now, but I do the opposite of what's normal for me. I introduce myself. "The name's Bravo. Bravo Nicandro. And uh... sorry about that... again." I blush, unsure of my next move. Should I try to shake her hand? Do girls shake hands? Instead of worrying over if I should shake her hand or not, I offer her an orange. "Would you like an orange? I mean, after I pay for it and all?"