Jacob participated in the celebration party, surrounded by a lively and pleased crowd. While savoring the delicious food and engaging in seemingly normal conversations, a network of lies and falsehoods was being woven inside him. Every word that came out of his lips was carefully calculated, designed to conceal his true intention and maintain his indifferent facade.
Despite the smiles and friendly responses he offered, his gaze revealed hidden anger, an intense rage towards those he considered a threat. He observed the people around him, those he pretended to listen to and attend to, and in his mind, he saw them as pests that needed to be eliminated.
As he mingled among the crowd, his thoughts were filled with strategies and plans to get rid of those he considered obstacles in his path. Every kind gesture and politely spoken word only served to hide his true purpose: the pursuit of power and absolute control.
With each bite of food and every superficial interaction, Jacob immersed himself further into the lie he had woven his life around. The party was just another facade in his intricate game of deception, where indifference and anger intertwined within him, ready to be unleashed at the opportune moment.
Thus, amidst the apparent joy and celebration, Jacob continued his role, pretending to be someone he was not and hiding his true intentions behind a mask of courtesy and falsehood.
"Eating small portions makes one feel better, believe me," Jacob said with a smile.
"Jacob, look who's beside me."
Just then, Portia appears with a large man who seems vaguely familiar. She introduces him as Plutarch Heavensbee, the new Head Gamemaker. Plutarch asks Jacob if he can steal Katniss away for a dance. Jacob has regained his camera face and passes her over to him naturally, warning him not to take liberties.
She doesn't want to dance with Plutarch Heavensbee. She doesn't want to feel his hands, one resting on hers and another on her hip. Katniss is not accustomed to being touched, except by Jacob or her family, and as for the Gamemakers, she ranks them somewhere below worms in terms of creatures she doesn't want touching her skin.
But he seems to sense this and holds her at almost arm's length as they twirl across the floor. They chat about the party, the entertainment, the food, and then he makes a joke about avoiding the punch from training. Katniss doesn't understand it, and then she realizes that the man who slipped back into the punch bowl when she shot arrows at the Gamemakers during the training session. Well, not really. She was shooting at an apple in the mouth of a roast pig. But it made them jump.
Jacob, though smiling from a distance, was listening to Katniss' conversation with that man, aided by his intelligent assistant.
"Are you already planning the Quarter Quell Games?"
"Oh, yes. Well, they've been in the works for years, of course. Arenas aren't built in a day. But, how should I put it, the flavor of the Games will be determined now. Believe it or not, I have a strategy meeting tonight."
Plutarch steps back a pace and pulls a gold watch on a chain from a vest pocket. He opens the cover, looks at the time, and frowns.
"I'll have to go soon." He turns the watch so I can see his face. "It starts at midnight."
"A perfect hour, the night reflects the gloom of our emotions..." Jacob murmured as he approached Katniss from behind, took a step forward, and wished the new Head Gamemaker good luck, leaning closer to her ear and whispering, "Shadows rise in whispers, threads intertwine in silence, as the fire of freedom burns in hidden hearts."
Plutarch, the leader of the rebel forces from District 13 and the one who saves Katniss multiple times later in the story, and of course, who suggests that the next games be held with the victors of previous editions.
"A beautiful prayer, unique I would say." Plutarch looked Jacob in the eyes and smiled. "Well, if anyone asks for me, tell them I've gone home to bed. Meetings are supposed to be kept secret. But I thought it would be safe to tell you, and I trust that you, Mr. Jacob, will keep that secret."
"You can count on it." Jacob nodded with a discreet smile.
As they shook hands, he made a small bow, a common gesture here in the Capitol.
"Well, I'll see you next summer in the Games, Katniss. Best wishes to both of you with your engagement, and good luck with your mother."
"I'll need it." Katniss said, slightly confused.
Jacob observed the new head of the peacekeepers with a penetrating gaze, knowing that his position was crucial for the future rebellion of the districts. He recognized in him the opportunity to find a strategic ally, someone capable of providing vital information and undermining the structures of the Capitol from within. He evaluated his movements, his way of interacting with others, searching for signs of loyalty and willingness to challenge the system. In his thoughts, he saw in this new leader a valuable potential for the unity of the districts and for leading the fight for freedom.
"Maybe it's better to leave it to Haymitch, it doesn't serve me much now..."
"Effie said we have to be on the train at one. I wonder what time it is." Katniss said, looking around.
"Almost midnight." Jacob murmured.
"It's time to say thank you and goodbye!" Effie whispered at Jacob's elbow. It's one of those moments when they simply adore her compulsive punctuality.
They made sure to pick up Cinna and Portia, and they escorted us to bid farewell to important people, then they led us to the door.
"Shouldn't we thank President Snow?" Jacob asked. "It's his house."
"Oh, he's not much of a party person. Too busy." Effie says. "I've already prepared the necessary notes and gifts to be sent to him tomorrow."
"There you are!" Effie waves to two Capitol attendants who are escorting a drunk Haymitch in between them. They travel through the streets of the Capitol in a car with tinted windows. Behind them, another car carries the prep teams.
The crowds of celebrating people are so large that the journey is slow. But Effie has turned this into a science, and exactly at one o'clock, they are back on the train and it departs from the station.
Haymitch is deposited in his room. Cinna orders tea, and everyone sits around the table while Effie rustles her schedule papers and reminds us that we are still on the tour.
There's the Harvest Festival in District Twelve to think about. So, I suggest we have our tea and go straight to bed."
No one argues about that, and everyone goes to their respective rooms.