"Your mentor has a lot to learn about presentation and behavior on television. We are a disgrace to the entire Capitol."
"He's doing the only thing he can do..." Jacob finished eating the grapes he had in his hands and murmured, "That's what he does every year, as far as I understand..."
"Do you understand?" Katniss asked, attentive to every movement Jacob made.
Jacob, who was trying not to move much due to all the food he had eaten, was startled by Katniss' question.
But fortunately, Effie replied, "Every day!"
Effie makes it seem like Haymitch has bad manners that can be corrected with a few tips from her.
"Hahaha, he lives as he wants since he's a former winner."
"Yes, it's strange that you two find it so amusing. You should know that your mentor is the connection to the outside world in these games. He will advise you, get you sponsors, and organize the delivery of any gifts. Haymitch can make the difference between life and death." Effie responded to Jacob and Katniss' comments.
At that moment, Haymitch stumbled into the compartment and muttered with a heavy voice, "Did I miss dinner?"
Haymitch slurred his words, clearly showing his state. Then he vomited on the carpet and fell onto the yellowish substance.
"Keep laughing!" Exclaimed Effie Trinket. She then stood up from the couch, stepped around the vomit, and left the compartment room.
The stench of vomit and pure alcohol made Jacob feel a bit uncomfortable. He tried to look at Haymitch's face. Unlike Katniss, he knew the story of this man and how he won the Hunger Games at the age of sixteen.
It's true that Jacob doesn't expect anything from anyone in this world or his own. He had lost interest in worrying about what others think and ignored the stains in his view, slowly becoming a narcissist.
Yes, Jacob had shown signs of being a narcissist, and that was something he hadn't noticed or, worse, didn't care about. After all, who would care about that in his situation? Now he just wanted to participate in these games, win, and eventually fulfill all the missions to return home and make his mark.
"Are you interested in helping the person who will save us in the games?" Seeing that Jacob showed no interest in helping Haymitch, Katniss asked him, expecting an immediate response.
"Save us? Maybe he can save you, but it's a dream if you think he'll magically be our God in the arena." Jacob smiled coldly, looked at Katniss, and pointed, "But maybe his help can be useful to you."
Not staying aside, Jacob helped Katniss lift Haymitch. They both dragged him through the compartment and took him to another room.
"Did I stumble?" Haymitch asked. Then he wiped his vomit-covered nose with his hand.
"Yes, you're a special mentor. We even have to clean up all this shit for you." Jacob said, trying not to get stained by the man's vomit.
They both half-pushed, half-dragged him back to his compartment. As Katniss hesitated to leave Haymitch on the carpet, Jacob had to take action and put his mentor in the shower, turning on the faucet.
Looking at Haymitch, who was half-dead, Jacob looked at Katniss, who was staring at him, and said, "Go, I'll take it from here."
Katniss couldn't help but feel a little grateful. The last thing she wanted was to undress Haymitch, clean all that filth from his hair and chest, and put him in bed. But from Jacob's expression, she knew he wasn't interested in being a Samaritan with Haymitch. She didn't understand why he wasn't trying to become her favorite when the games began.
However, even if Jacob is just pretending or truly a strange boy, she figures that judging by his current state, Haymitch won't remember anything tomorrow.
"Well, I can send one of the Capitol's people to help you," Katniss suggested upon seeing Jacob's expression. There are several people on the train. They cook for the tributes, the mentor, and the District Twelve escort. They serve them but also watch over them. Taking care of them is their job, so this falls within what they can do.
"Yes, I need to train after all..." Jacob doesn't want to be Haymitch's babysitter. Peeta did that, and in return, the mentor chose Katniss over him.
Katniss was surprised and nodded. She was about to leave when she heard Jacob's voice, cold and devoid of emotion.
"Katniss, we can triumph together in the arena, or you can watch me slowly win the Hunger Games. Either way, I won't be the one losing in these Hunger Games."
Jacob walked slowly through the narrow corridors of the compartments, thinking about what he would do depending on Katniss' choice. He was not Peeta, a boy deeply in love with Katniss. He knew that she was the one who would free this world from the oppression of the Capitol, but he couldn't disregard his own victory.
Therefore, he had to achieve the same thing that Peeta had done, but for this, he needed Katniss' participation, and she had to follow each of his instructions for it to work. If not, he would opt for plan B, and that is to win at any cost.
The room was luxurious and extravagant, a surprising contrast to the harshness of the games that awaited him. Jacob headed towards the center of the room and took off his shirt without hesitation. His body revealed well-defined muscles, the result of an astonishing year of intense training in his district.
His arms were strong and sculpted, each muscle standing out beneath the tanned skin. In his hands, the knuckles bore the marks of intense and hard training, evidence that Jacob was no novice in the art of combat. Only someone who had practiced with the purpose of causing harm could have such tough and marked knuckles.
Although his physique was impressive, it was not exaggerated. Jacob was not a mountain of muscles, but rather an agile and athletic figure. Every muscle in his body was defined but not excessively so, giving him a balanced and agile appearance, perfect for moving quickly and skillfully in the arena.
Without wasting time, Jacob headed to a corner of the room where he had designated a small space for training. There, he began to perform a series of dynamic exercises, combining combat movements, push-ups, and jumps. Each movement was executed with precision, showcasing his dexterity and control over his own body.
As he trained, the determination in Jacob's eyes intensified. Every punch and every movement were an expression of his will to survive and change the outcomes of the games. He knew that the path to victory would be difficult and painful, but he was willing to face any challenge that stood in his way.
In the midst of his training, sweat started to soak his skin, further highlighting the definition of his muscles. Each breath was deep and controlled, his heart beating strongly as he channeled his determination and anger into every movement.
Jacob was ready to challenge all the tributes, to confront his opponents and prove that he would not be a mere puppet in the Hunger Games. With his body prepared and his mind focused, he promised himself that he would do everything possible to change the fate of these games and all the oppressed. The arena would be his stage of rebellion, and he was ready to fight.
If everything went according to his plans, he didn't care about eliminating the Capitol along the way to the end of his missions.