A/N: OMG. THE SEQUEL. *major squeal* It's here! I have a lot planned. Okay, by a lot I mean just the POVs up to the BB chapter... But hey! To get a victor you have to start out with the first chapters.
Now, I want to explain a few things and also show you my tireless effort to this story. First, I shall start off with a story.
I tend to procrastinate. A lot. I am looking into getting Write or Die, but until I do, I have a method to get past the reapings ASAP. I have these silly little district buttons that I put on my picture board thingy in my room. They are kind of kiddish and, well, definitely a disappointment to the THG fandom to wear pins. But I am making myself wear the one for the reaping I am on. I've lost D2's, so now I'm going to have to wear the 12 and the 10 until I get D2 reapings done and have to explain, "It means twelve minus ten, for District Two." Once the reapings are over, I can go back to wearing the pendant, earrings, and my good, non-broken, non-suckish pin. (P.S. Don't wear giant mockingjay earrings after not wearing earrings for a month, kids. Side affects include but are not limited to: Wanting to rip your ears off, randomly massaging your ears in class, getting odd looks, crying out - loudly - in lunch because your hair got stuck in them and it burns... etc.)
And now, to explain why Miss Diode has a massive POV and Adelina and Daphne have POVs like elves. Due to the three tributes per district, I am choosing a main POV for each reaping. But don't worry, having a main reaping POV counts as a tribute's three Capitol POVs, and the Bloodbath counts as a Capitol chapter for me. And Capitol chapters like training and train rides will have twelve POVs due to the thirty-six tributes and lack of POVs.
And last thing before we begin. If you have a reserved spot and the tribute is not turned in by three days after D2R's are posted, I will be giving the spot to someone else who will get me the tribute ASAP. If you don't have time and want to just give the tribute spot away now, no harm done. Just PM me. :-D
D1- 18- (Gleam Diode)
I sigh at the potted plant and take another bite of my tasteless toast, not bothering to wrinkle up my nose even though Mother is right there, eating, and would normally get frustrated with me for turning up something she made. But today, I don't think she'd care if I set the house on fire; she just wants me to volunteer. It's really the only thing she cares about when it comes to me, and ever since it dawned on her that if I win, we'll be rich, she's been a bit overly excited about it.
"So, this is finalized, right, Gleam?" Mother asks me eagerly.
I groan. "Yes, Mother. I'm volunteering. Will you shut up?"
"Oh, hush. If only your father were here..."
"Don't remind me."
My father died in a mining accident eight years ago. He was rather mean and arrogant. I didn't care for him too much and I've never wanted to grieve or feel anything towards his death. But when people started to tell me I'm "weak" and I "need help," I started feeling for his death. I started feeling angry. Because I am not weak and have never been weak, nor have I ever or will ever need help. It's not in my nature. I'm not even sure it's in my vocabulary. Weaknesses just don't apply to me.
We continue to eat in silence, and that plant really captivates me. A little breeze flutters through the open window next to it and its fake leaves flutter just slightly. I sigh again in boredom and throw my toast across the room and into the trashcan. My mother opens her mouth to scold me, but I mutter a quick "Sorry" before she can ramble on about manners or whatever. Then I get up from my place at the table and march up to my room.
In my room, I start getting ready for the reaping. I quickly brush through my short dirty blonde hair. Then I go over to my closet where there is an outfit outside the door, but it's one Mother picked out, so I don't put it on. Inside, I open my closet and take out the outfit I had ready yesterday because I knew I wasn't going to feel like picking one out this morning. I slip the white skirt, blue tank top, and the blue and purple top off their hooks and dress in them. Then I take out the white high-heeled boots and put them on.
After I have dressed, I go downstairs again and sit in the kitchen table, waiting for Mother. She's showering, for she hadn't thought to do that when she woke up this morning like I had, and now I have to wait for her, because if I leave before she does to get in the crowd early, my goodbyes with her in the Justice Building will just be an agonizing speech. What a lovely thing to think of as my last moment in District One before the Games.
I twiddle my thumbs, whistle, and look outside at the birds. Then I think to take a knife. I hurry to find one and slip it delicately into my pocket.
The moment I hear her shower go off, I yell, "I'm leaving, Mother!" and am out the door before she can protest.
Outside, the air is warm, the sky cloud-free. It's a summer morning, and the birds are chirping lightly. I walk past the nice neighborhood I live in and through the bad part of town. That's the only thing about the reaping that I hate: when I go to the square, I pass through the grimy, bad part of District One where our few crimes come from. You'd figure, us being a Career district, that we'd have more crimes from bloodthirsty, out-of-control Careers, but either they keep their crimes hidden very well, or they manage to hold themselves back. I suspect the former.
Soon I am just outside the training center. Trainees file out of the building. I didn't train this morning because I didn't wake up on time, and my mother didn't lecture me because she woke up late too. I make sure to stay behind the trainees, for I am not eager to catch up with any "old pals," and definitely no current enemies. Friendship isn't something in my everyday life.
They're all eager to get to the reaping, of course—it's a Quell year where three kids get to go into the Games, a Career's dream—so I'm not thinking in frustration, Please, go any slower! or something. I'm swept along by others coming from their homes and heading to the reaping. I can see the Justice Building not too far away and pick up my pace, but make sure not to head into the crowd of other Careers.
At the square, I sign in quickly and then dart into the eighteen-year-olds' section. Others crowd around me. I'm glad I'm not claustrophobic, or I'd be spastic at every reaping. I have no desire to feel sympathy for those who have claustrophobia. I've had to face and conquers fears in life, lots of them training-related, so they can as well.
People chatter to their friends and giggle and scream out, "I volunteer!"—as practice, I suppose—before the mayor has even stepped onto the stage, let alone up to the microphone. His speech will be long. Though, to my relief, Toilia, our escort for District One, tends not to ramble much. She likes to get to the point, thank God.
After a long, exasperating wait for the reaping to begin, it finally does. Peacekeepers and camera crews lining the square, Capitol people dotting the edge of the square where large-screen televisions are placed, and an anxious rush settled over the crowd, it finally begins. The mayor steps up and rambles out the speech that I'm sure he memorized long, long ago.
"May I introduce to you—Azalea Darkhart, here to represent the Capitol!" announces the mayor.
Well, that's new. Toilia Marray is gone. Azalea looks so much like Toilia, I didn't know the difference. She's covered head to toe in neon green.
"Hello!" exclaims Azalea. "Hello. Hush, now. We have much to do and so little time." At least she doesn't ramble. "What a magnificent day for a reaping. I shall draw now from our singular bowl."
Her green-tinted hand with long, green fingernails is dipped down into the bowl with both a pink and a blue ribbon. Out pops a name when she withdraws the slip. As the reaping bowl was next to the microphone, she doesn't have to walk anywhere before announcing the name. "Angelica Aarons."
"I volunteer!" I cry, but others are screaming the exact same thing. I push until I am at the front of the crowd and again shout, "I volunteer!"
I step under the velvet ropes and over to the stage, moving quickly so as to beat out the other volunteers. There are ten from each gender, just like always. It's the ten at the top of the training class. I take out the knife I placed in my pocket earlier and hold it out to everyone so no one even tries to take me place, and then up on to the stage. Murmurs spread through the crowd. I approach the microphone when the shouts and murmurs have calmed, and everyone glowers at me for taking the first spot when no one else did. It's rather impressive I did so this year, as I was competing against both genders for this. But in the end, I won.
"My name is Gleam Diode," I announce proudly, but do not add something stupid like, "this year's victor."
"Lovely, lovely. Starting out nicely," says Azalea as she shoves her hand back in the bowl. I sigh, waiting to see my competition. "Glitter Sphereson."
Everyone is volunteering at once, but in the end, a girl with short, dark brown hair that is parted just off to the side, pale skin, and greenish eyes makes it up the stage, announcing quite arrogantly—though who am I to judge?—"I am Adelina Summerfield."
"Mm. Well, beautiful. Let's move on."
So quickly? Why, yes, I think I do like Azalea more than Toilia. Besides, who wants an escort named Toilet—I mean Toilia?
"Daphne… Well, Daphne Summerfield!"
I see Adelina smirk out of the corner of my eye. It's her sister. But I doubt the reaped girl will make it onstage in time. A girl with lighter hair than Adelina, pale skin, and dark brown eyes steps on to the stage with a winning smile and says into the microphone, surprising me and everyone, "I am Daphne Summerfield."
I suppose Daphne and Adelina do look alike.
"I don't suppose you are sisters, Daphne and Adelina?" Azalea asks.
Daphne smiles and Adelina smirks, saying, "That, we are."
"Well, won't this combination be interesting!" roars Azalea. "My! No boys." Adelina flutters her fingers at an angry crowd of males from the eighteens' section with a winning smile and then shakes my hand, turns, and struts slowly to the Justice Building doors. "Well, um, shakes hands, you two…"
Daphne and I shake hands, locking eyes for a moment. We are allies, even if there are two packs this year. I am resourceful to them—I proved that with the knife incident, didn't I?—and they are resourceful to me. Something about the way Adelina walked away without a care in the world, and the way Daphne made it past all the volunteers, tells me that they're valuable. Value is something we Careers must hold to get into a good alliance for the Games this year, I suppose.
We're taken into the Justice Building and into red velvet-lined rooms. I am the last to get a room. I sit there for a long while before finally my mother comes in with an ear-to-ear smile on her face. "Oh, Gleam," she says. "Oh, Gleam, Gleam, Gleam. I am so proud of you!"
"Yeah, yeah," I mutter. "I know."
"You," my mother spills, "my dear, are extraordinary."
"Extraordinary, victor material—blah-blah-blah, blah-blah, blah, blah, blah…" I continue blahing at mother as she continues complementing until she stops and realizes what I am saying. She glares at me, and I smile. "Yes, Mother?"
"Do well," she grumbles, stands up, and promptly walks out.
Just like usual.
D1- 17- (Adelina Summerfield)
"Dressed yet?" asks my little brother Trev from outside my room.
I open the door for him and he looks my short red dress up and down, ending with my undone hair. He rolls his eyes and wrinkles his nose. Trev is thirteen and has been training for eight years, and yet he still thinks he's better than me, the girl who's older then him, has been training for twelve years, and could definitely beat him up. And who is he to wrinkle his nose up at me when I am attempting to volunteer for my first time this year?
Trev sighs. "Breakfast."
I nod and downstairs I hear mother call up, "Trevor, Adelina, Daphne! Get ready and come have breakfast."
I go downstairs quickly. Trev reaches the floor with a thud, as he jumped from the third stair to the floor. I roll my eyes and hear my twin sister, Daphne, say from behind, "Oh, great—did Trev fall again?"
"No!" he says loudly.
I smile and wait for Daphne to reach the floor before giving her a high-five for that. "Nice one," I say.
"Thanks."
I nod and we head to the kitchen together.
Daphne and I are best friends. Despite the occasional, natural sisterly drama, we get along pretty well, and we're twins. And since we're pretty popular at our school, we have a lot of friends, and therefore few to no best friends. Naturally, we grew together and are really close friends. We did share a room for the first ten years of our life before we moved into a four-bedroom house.
"Are you going to walk with Jeff to the reaping?" I ask, doing well to keep the envy out of my voice. I wish that it was I who had a Jeff Cavanaugh of my own, and not her. Or, better yet, that we both had boyfriends. That would be nice.
Daphne shakes her head. "Nah, I thought I'd walk with you," she says. "Besides, Jeff can't."
"I see," I say, sitting at the kitchen table. "Is it okay that Lydia comes with us?"
Daphne nods. "Yeah."
Lydia Lang is my other best friend. We hang out whenever Daphne is with Jeff.
During breakfast, there is little talk. Mother and Father talk a lot about the reaping, volunteering, precautions we need to take in the Games. This is Justice Building talk, but I don't mind. The more advice I have, the better. And the same goes for Daphne, if she decides to also volunteer this or next year. She hasn't told me if she is going to or not.
Father looks at the clock. "Time to go, girls," he tells us. Then he looks at Trev and says, "Why don't you go with us, pal?"
"But, D—"
Father shakes his head. "No buts, Trevor."
"Dad!" Trev protests loudly.
I stick my tongue out at Trev and slip the shoes I kicked off under the table during breakfast and walk out with Daphne. Outside, Lydia is waiting on the porch. When we walk out, she stands up and smiles, beginning to walk in rhythm with us as we pass by. She greets Daphne kindly and asks where Jeff is.
"At the square," replies Daphne.
"You didn't have to wait outside," I tell Lydia.
"It's nice out," she explains. I nod and look up at the perfect blue, cloudless sky.
We all walk in silence to the square, where, after we sign in, we go to the seventeens' section and wait for the reaping to begin. Everyone is talking at once and I don't understand how anyone can hear each other, so I don't bother to try to speak to my friends. Daphne attempts to call for Jeff when she sees him, but he doesn't hear and instead goes to stand by his friends.
After a deafening minute or so, the mayor finally steps up, recites his speeches, and gets the heck off the stage, after announcing our new escort, Azalea Darkhart, which is a rather ironic name since her clothes are very bright, like Toilia's, our old escort.
She smiles and begins the reaping—the one that will change everything.
D1- 17- (Daphne Summerfield)
"Angelica Aarons," announces Azalea nonchalantly, because someone will volunteer; that's obvious.
In fact, everyone volunteers.
Well, if twenty people - ten of each gender permitted to volunteer, two of which are Adelina and I - is everyone.
No one stops until some girl comes to the front of the crowd and pulls a knife before darting up to the stage and announcing her name. "My name is Gleam Diode," she says, holding her head high like any volunteer should, especially when announcing their name. It shows some sort of family pride to the district, announcing you're proud you're who you are and that who you are is a winner.
Everyone now hates and loves this girl. She took someone else's chance, but she's also one of the three the whole district will be rooting for. So, really, they have to love her or they're not patriotic towards their district, their home. It's really rather interesting to think of the system like that. Also, if you root for some District Two bozo, who the hell will ever want you to be the volunteer? You'll be sponsor-free.
I have been spacing out, so the next thing I hear is Azalea announcing, "Glitter Sphereson." A prideful girl begins to race up to the stage, head held high, screaming that she volunteers over everyone else. But as she has always been, Adelina is fast. She's agile. She manages to swerve through the crowd as if walking through the streets on an average, no-school-no-training day.
And before anyone knows it, my twin sister is up on the stage, smiling a toothy grin of glee and to win over people. She drops her smile to bite her lip—something she totally is copying from me, since I have never seen her bite her lip and it's rather habit for me—and announces arrogantly, "I am Adelina Summerfield."
I see her glance at me and can see in her eyes a brief flash of triumph that she stole my lip-biting. It's cute, I can practically hear her saying with a toothy smile and cocky eyes. And it's not yours, sister. But honestly, if roles were reversed, I might've stolen her lip-biting, too, so I don't blame her and instead roll my eyes. If she could let it, I know friendly joy would spread over her face and she'd laugh. Sisters know these things.
"Mm. Well, beautiful. Let's move on."
Adelina surveys the crowd, guessing who will be chosen, eying the other eighteen people who are allowed to volunteer this year. Sizing up possible competition. Remembering their strategies, scores, ranks, and ages. Mentally charting, ranking, and determining how long they'll last. Or is that me who does that? I am more stategic of the two of us, and she is more "act now, think later."
"Daphne... Well, Daphne Summerfield!"
I don't know if I am exactly shocked at hearing my name, but I do know that since I am a volunteer, I am allowed to go up there even though I was reaped and didn't volunteer. So, as fast as I can, I part from the crowd and dart up front, up the step up to the microphone. I can see shock fill the crowd's eyes as I announce, smiling "I am Daphne Summerfield."
Azalea asks, "I don't suppose you are sisters, Daphne and Adelina?"
I smile. Adelina smirks and says, "That, we are."
"Well, won't this combination be interesting!" roars Azalea. "My! No boys."
I space out and smile at the crowd until I see Adelina strut to the door of the Justice Building.
"Well, um, shake hands, you two..." Azalea says slowly.
I lock eyes with Gleam as we shake hands.
This is it.
This is showtime.
A/N: And that was chapter one! By the way, for those who care, I will be posting an epilogue for IWNB, this story's prequel, soon.
Remember to get in those reserved tributes, guys!
