The train had been moving for hours, but it felt like time had stopped the moment you left the square.

You sat stiffly in a booth near the edge of the dining car, the fabric too soft, the table too polished, and the air too warm. None of it felt real. Plates piled with meats, strange fruits, and golden bread sat untouched in front of you. Everything about the Capitol’s generosity reeked—.

Across the aisle, Katniss sat curled into herself, arms crossed, eyes locked on the window. She hadn’t said a word since the train started. You couldn’t tell if she was scared or just trying not to feel anything.

Peeta sat across from her, slouched in his seat, eyes flicking between the food and his hands. He hadn’t touched his plate either. Every so often, he’d glance at Katniss like he wanted to say something—but never did.

Nobody really knew each other. Not well. You were just three names pulled from the same dying coal town, now orbiting each other in the belly of a train headed somewhere none of you had ever been.

You finally broke the silence. “I’ve never been past the fence before.”

Katniss didn’t move.

Peeta looked over slowly. “It’s not what I expected—there’s—so much to eat.”

You gave a dry laugh that didn’t sound right. “Never thought I’d see this much food.”

Katniss’s voice cut in, quiet but sharp. “Did you forget? We’re being shipped off to die for people’s entertainment.”

Peeta shifted uncomfortably.

You nodded, swallowing. “We didn’t forget-we’re just trying to make the best of our situation—.”

As if summoned, Haymitch stumbled into the car, brushing crumbs off his shirt and holding a half-empty bottle. His eyes were glassy, but he walked straighter than you expected.

“Don’t flatter yourselves,” he muttered. “They don’t care what you remember. Only what you look like bleeding on a screen.”

He collapsed into a booth next to Peeta, letting out a breath like he’d been holding it all day. He reached for a plate, picked up a dinner roll, sniffed it, and tossed it aside like it had personally offended him.

Katniss glanced at him. “You’re supposed to be our mentor.”Katniss said in disbelief

Haymitch cracked a grin without warmth. “And you’re supposed to be pretty. Guess we all got the short end.”

Peeta leaned forward. “Is there anything we should… I don’t know. Be doing right now? Preparing for?”

Haymitch raised his brows. “Sure. Eat. Sleep. Try not to throw up on the chariot ride.”

He gestured loosely at the untouched plates. “You think this is luxury? This is bait. You’re dinner guests until the show starts. Then you’re meat.”

Nobody replied. The hum of the train filled the silence.

Katniss finally stood, hands clenched at her sides. “I’m not hungry.”

She left the dining car without another word. The door clicked shut behind her, louder than it needed to be.

Peeta looked after her, then turned his eyes to the table, still silent.

Haymitch chuckled under his breath. “Sweet bunch this year. You’re gonna make the Capitol cry.”

You stared down at your reflection in the silver plate in front of you. You didn’t recognize the person looking back.

Outside the window, the forests had thinned. The mountains were behind you now. Ahead, something glittered in the distance—strange lights under a dull gray sky. The Capitol.

It was getting closer.

And there was no going back to District 12.