The crowd hummed with anticipation. Hundreds of people were gathered in the Town Square, thousands more spilling out into the surrounding streets, their faces trained on the giant television screens that shared the same empty image. Everybody was there – the fishmongers, the sailors, the teachers at the school and the Peacekeepers – people from every walk of life had gathered to watch the famous event. There was not a single person in all of District Four who had not turned up for the Reaping that year. Oh, it was such a wonderful community event, bringing everyone together to celebrate the Capitol, the tributes and the Hunger Games…
It was a shame that their children must pay the price.
Anxious children, penned like cattle into gender-separated sections, stood in silence by the stage. None of them spoke. None of them dared to utter the slightest breath, afraid that it would distract them and that they might miss the opening of the ceremony. God forbid if that should happen. God forbid.
The stage had been erected outside Mayor Twinbe's manor; it was a slightly unstable wooden construction, the same one that was used year after year. Centre-stage stood Azam Hart, the current escort of District Four, dressed from head-to-toe in a bold plum suit. His shiny black hair hung to his shoulders in sleek, handsome waves; his skin was painted a strange orange-brown concoction and his teeth were alarmingly white. Azam was young – he had succumbed to the ways of the Capitol early.
A woman adjusted Azam's bow-tie in a hurry as a man with a clipboard started a count-down; all at once the camera buzzed to life and Azam's million-dollar smile was blinding the entire nation.
"Hello, Panem! Welcome, welcome, welcome! I'm Azam Hart and I'm here in District Four, about to reveal to you who our two newest tributes will be! Before our ceremonies begin I would like to introduce Mayor Twinbe – hello, Mayor Twinbe, come on up here!"
The crowd clapped politely as the old Mayor made his way onto the stage. Mayor Twinbe was in his late sixties but he hadn't lost his fight: he was a determined man with a powerful voice, though he didn't seem to appreciate the media attention that came with the Reaping. He did not like cameras, which all of District Four was aware of, which was why they found it quietly amusing when Azam tried to coax a conversation out of him.
"So, Mayor Twinbe, how are you feeling about this year's Hunger Games?"
"Good."
"This is the twentieth Hunger Games that you have been Mayor for. What does this mean to you?"
"I'm getting old."
A laugh brushed through the crowds; Azam exaggerated heartily. "Oh, Mayor Twinbe, such a character! Would you like to say a brief word to your District before you take your seat?"
Mayor Twinbe turned to the audience and frowned slightly. "Good luck," he said before retreating to his chair on the stage.
Azam chuckled loudly to the nation. "What a man! Now may I introduce, with great pleasure, the victor of the 21st Hunger Games and your heroine – Vanessa Odette!"
The applause for Vanessa was louder than that of Mayor Twinbe's. Onto the stage she stepped, a figure dressed in black with a dark expression. She was tall and athletic and perhaps beautiful if she would smile, though it was common knowledge that Vanessa Odette had never made a habit of showing positive emotions. Some people said she lost her smile in the arena; others said she had never been able to smile at all.
Vanessa shook hands with Azam.
"So, Vanessa, how are you feeling about this year's Hunger Games?"
There was not a moment of pause before her answer. "I think that the Gamemakers raised the standard of the Hunger Games after last year's Quarter Quell. There has never been quite so much anticipation as there is now."
The crowd nodded in assent.
Azam, enthused by her reply, beamed. "Right you are, Vanessa. Tell me, do you think the Gamemakers will be able to out-do themselves after last year's excitement?"
"I'm sure they have many tricks up their sleeves."
"Do you have any advice for the possible-tributes?"
Vanessa turned to the pens of children who were hanging on to her every word. Her eyes were severe. "Make us proud," she said. "Give us something to cheer for."
The crowd, who had always adored Vanessa despite her humorless attitude, applauded loudly. She sat in the chair beside Mayor Twinbe and the district fell into a grave silence. Azam was grinning so widely it looked as if his jaw may fall off.
"Such excitement!" he trilled. "Such anticipation! And now we shall begin."
Azam moved deliberately towards one of the Reaping balls and slid off the lid. "We shall begin, as always, with the girls!"
A tenseness had enveloped all of those who watched. There was no movement now; not the blink of an eyelid nor the twitch of a finger. The district was frozen, staring at the orange hand that slid into the ball and dipped carefully into the slips of paper, rummaging briefly before extracting with one simple piece gripped in its fingers.
The paper was unfolded.
Nobody was breathing.
"Ava Bennet!"
Applause erupted through District Four. Their tributes were like gold dust; once they were found they were cherished. Ava Bennet stepped from the pen, Peacekeepers leading her onto the stage where she customarily shook Azam's hand and faced the district. Cameras zoned in on her, the first tribute, capturing every detail of her appearance. Her head was held high and showed no emotion, simply carrying an essence of strength.
Eyes forward, she told herself. Show no weakness. The nation is watching you. Show them how strong you are.
"What an honor, Ava," Azam beamed. "What an honor. Are there any volunteers? No? Okay - onto our next tribute – the boys! Are you ready, boys? One of you is about to become a man."
Ava didn't watch Azam as he proceeded to the second ball. Her eyes were on the crowd, searching all of the faces for her mother and father, but they where nowhere in sight. They must have been in one of the side-streets. Annoyance itched in her chest; they had wanted her to be Reaped for years and the day she was they weren't even around. Brilliant.
"Jason Quince!"
Applause broke through the audience once more. A young boy, maybe fourteen, was directed onto the stage. He was young and afraid, his eyes terrified as he shook Azam's hand.
"What an honor for one so young! Are there any volunteers?" Azam opened his mouth immediately to speak but his voice was lost, words caught in his throat, as a word tore through the crowd.
"Yes!"
The nation's eyes turned to the pen of boys. Ava stared in shock as they parted like waves, one of the oldest stepping forward with a severe expression. He was tall and broad, the type of guy who worked on the docks hauling fish all day. Panem watched eagerly. Azam was lost for words.
"I volunteer to take his place."
Quickly recovering, Azam ran a hand through his silky hair. "Well, isn't this exciting? Jason Quince, do you accept this volunteer?"
"Yeah- yeah, I do!" Jason cried happily, running off the stage as soon as he could where he rejoined the pen of boys, wrapping his identical twin in a rib-crushing hug. They were both crying with joy. For a moment the district was so focused on this sight that everybody seemed to have forgotten the volunteer tribute, who was now shaking hands with Azam on the stage.
"Well, this is very, very exciting!" Azam gushed. "We haven't had a volunteer since the 3rd Hunger Games! Young man, what is your name?"
"Jake Meyer," said the boy.
"And why did you choose to volunteer, Jake?"
Jake turned to the cameras, his face stern. "Because I want to fight," he said. "I want to win and this is my last year. My last chance for victory."
A cheer broke through the crowd that lasted half a minute. Ava forced herself to remain expressionless and contained, her eyes forward on the cameras. She recognized Jake now that she had seen him close-up and she was right – he was, indeed, one of the boys who worked down at the dock. She had seen him around the school and she had heard his name once or twice, but she knew very little of him.
"Well, Panem, this has truly been an exhilarating Reaping here in District Four! May I present to you Ava Bennet and Jake Meyer, tributes of the 26th Hunger Games. Goodnight, Panem, and good luck to all!"
The cameras zoomed in on the two tributes. Ava knew that nobody was looking at her now. Nobody wanted to see the normal girl who was Reaped – they wanted to see the brave, confident young man, the first volunteer District Four has had since the 3rd Games.
That's fine, she thought quietly. Make me the underdog. In the arena, you'll be watching me and nobody else. Just wait and see. I'm the one to watch.