I've seen a few of The Hunger Game based Klaine's going around recently and I all I could think was 'A Niff Hunger Games would be awesome'. So here is chapter one. For those who have no read the novels, I did/will do my best to explain it as it goes, so you won't get confused. For those who are fans of the trilogy, please forgive me if I make a mistake.
I have a lot planned for this story, so I hope you enjoy and sick around to see where I take the boys. Happy reading!
Disclaimer: I own nothing.
Jeff went through every worst days of his life. Every time he had whined and complained, thinking that nothing would outdo how horrible this one day was. Like the time he broke his leg before the final soccer game when he was eleven, the time he got food poisoning and missed dissection day in school, the day he realized he was in love and those feelings would never be reciprocated. The day he lost Nick. That one stung a little more than the others, Jeff having forgotten about it for the longest time.
He saw the day clearly in his mind, as if he were back at the train station platform, his best friend standing in front of him with the same pained expression. Tears rolled down each of their faces, sad smiles gracing their lips as they said their goodbyes. They'd been best friends since they were kids, neighbors growing up. They were the only people the other could turn to and be completely honest with. When Nick told Jeff he was leaving, he felt part of himself die. Moving districts was like moving to the moon. The chances of seeing each other were slim to none, and slim just jumped out the window.
So there they stood, in one final embrace. Nick's arms around Jeff's shoulders, the blond holding his best friend around the waist. His father gave a sound of annoyance as the boys refused to let each other go.
"I won't forget you Nicky. We'll write letters. I can't lose you…" Jeff muttered from where his head was resting, face buried into the others shoulder, feeling his tears soak Nick's shirt. He'd pay anything to keep Nick with him, to follow him to District 2. Anything to keep the two of them together. This felt like he was having his heart ripped out and he was unsure of how he would survive without his best friend.
"You aren't losing me Jeffie. We'll see each other again. I swear. I'll come back and find you if I have to," Nick reassured, his voice wavering slightly. Truth be told, he had no idea what was going to become of them. He had no idea why his father was being relocated, or why Nick and his mother had to come with him to District 2. All he knew was that he was leaving, and that his best friend would remain here in District 7, a world away.
He drew in a shuttered breath, pulling back from Jeff. "I love you Jeffie. You are my best friend. This isn't goodbye. I could never say goodbye to you. I'll see you soon, I promise." He held up his pinky, a small smile forming. Jeff slowly gave his own smile, linking their pinkies.
"I'm holding you to that Nicky. This is one promise you have to keep." Nick nodded, jumping as the train whistle blew. This was it. He was leaving. He gave Jeff one last hug then stepped back, turning to board the train car. He turned back when he heard Jeff call out his name. The door began closing, Nick barely catching his best friend's final words. "I love you too!" Nick felt a new set of tears roll down his face as the train began to move, his father yanking him by the collar to their seats.
Jeff stood on the station platform for a while longer, almost afraid to move. Maybe if he stayed there long enough, the train would come back. Nick would come off and say plans had changed, that his father said he could stay here and live with Jeff or something. He wiped the tears off his face, closing his eyes as a breeze picked up, the familiar faint scent of burning wood hitting him hard. Nick had always joked that even living here, they'd never get use to that smell; even the faint scent of pine trees that surrounded the district always came second to the smoke. It was going to tough, not tracing every part of his life back to the best friend he has just lost. With a sigh, he turned towards the stairs, praying this wouldn't be as hard as his imagination was making it out to be.
That day followed him for the next three years, forever in the back of his mind. He wrote letters, but never got a response. Never got a phone number to call. Honestly, he wasn't sure if Nick had broken his promise or if there was some outside source, like Nick's father who had never really approved of the two boys being as close as they were, that kept them from communicating. Nonetheless, Jeff lived on, working in the forests surrounding their district with the other teens, loading trucks with lumber to bring extra money into his family's home. It was difficult for the first few months, Jeff missing having someone to turn to. But he made new friends, and soon enough, was able to make it through the day without thinking about his once-upon-a-time best friend.
They had gotten off work earlier today and all the teens headed home around noon to get ready. They'd been through this every year. Go home, put on your best clothes, then meet in the town square. Once there, they were separated by age group and gender, standing in perfect lines as a prerecorded message from President Snow came on, wishing 'Happy Reaping and Happy Hunger Games' with an happy smile as if this were just another day. As if they enjoyed standing there, like lamb waiting to see who would be slaughtered next. The reaping was the most depressing day of the year, parents holding young children who were finally of age to be reaped. The older teens knew to keep a brave face, though many just clung to the hope that they would make it through another year. Jeff, being seventeen, had been through this time and time again, breathing a sigh of relief every year his name wasn't called.
They knew why the Games existed, knew the Capitol only did it to keep the other Districts from rebelling like 13 had done so many years ago. They learned about it in school before they were shipped off to the forest to work. They were told about 13 rebelling against the Capitol, planning its demise. They were told the Capitol only had one choice, to destroy the district before they caused harm to anyone. So one this day, seventy years ago, the Capitol bombed District 13, killing everything and everyone that once lived there. They'd show videos, trying to instill fear in the other Panem citizens at a young age, showing the wasteland that now existed where 13 had once stood. From then on, the Games were set as a reminder. A reminder of the power of the Capitol, the control of the Capitol. They sent in children, pitting them against one another until there was only one left alive. Sometimes it seemed like it was more for Capitol entertainment than to teach the district a lesson. From the bets set to the interviews and the pressure to be the best before the Games even started, those in power seemed to have more fun watching tributes squirm than watching the deaths of innocent children.
Two cameras stood on the corners of the stage, Peacekeepers that had probably arrived on the train earlier that day scattered around the ground. On stage stood a woman who was so obviously from Capitol it hurt. Her bright green hair, golden covered face, and flamboyant clothing gave her away as the wrangler. She was going to be in charge of keeping an eye on whoever was reaped until the day of the game. She introduced herself, Jeff's attention elsewhere. He watched his peers file in, filling the roped-off area. No one really looked excited, though he imagined the Capitol citizens watching on the other side of those cameras on the stage were having a joyous time. They were off in the safety that was the Capitol, eating whatever food their personal chefs had made, sitting on overstuffed couches, and laughing as those who lived lesser lives waited for a piece of paper to decide their destiny.
His name was in the pot a few times, having applied for tesserae a few times when his family needed the extra food to get by. If his count was right, his name was in that bowl around seventeen or eighteen times. But there were those whose names were in thirty times, some of the older teens up to forty times depending on their situation. It gave Jeff hope, only two more years and he would be free. His chances of getting by were good; thousands of children, slim chances for that slip of paper to hold his name. He saw his brother standing with his parents, the grimace on his face clear as he watched from behind the ropes. He was only eleven, no worry of being reaped yet. He was safe, for now.
Jeff leaned on the balls of his feet as the alarm rang, signaling it was time to begin. The Capitol representative on stage smiled, unfazed by the pain she was about to cause so many. "Ladies first," she said, her voice chipper as she reached into the giant glass bowl on her right side. There was silence as she pulled out a slip, the air so tense you could cut it with a knife. Or a chain saw. Whichever was more readily available. "And your female tribute will be… Miss Tina Cohen-Chang!" There was a sharp intake of breath, a faint whimper, and the shuffle of feet as the girls moved around.
Jeff knew the girl from school, a year or two under him. He'd never had a conversation with her or anything, but he had been aware of her existence. She kept a stiff upper lip as she made her way past her peers, up to the stage with two Peacekeepers behind her if she decided to make a run for it. She didn't seem like the type though. A girl in one of the younger age groups began to cry quietly, Tina passing her sad look. Based on that and their similar appearance, Jeff guessed they might be sisters.
No one made a move to volunteer to take her spot. Why would they? Who would willingly lay down their life for someone they barely knew? The only time people ever volunteered anymore was in the higher districts where Career tributes basically fought to get into the Games. Training children for the Games was illegal, the Capitol believing tributes should have to rely on born skills or skills acquired through work to win. But in Districts 1, 2, and 4, children were raised differently. They learned how to wield weapons, learned how to fight, how to kill. Because those districts were in the Capitol's good graces, they were never reprimanded for their tributes' knowledge.
In effect, winners usually came from those districts. And if not from there, one of the other districts closer to Capitol. The back six districts got the short end of the stick, teens working at young ages to support families in poor districts. District 7 had been the home of three winners in the pasted, only two of which were still alive. Those two lived in the winner's village every district was required to have. They sat towards the back of the stage, watching the events unfold with bored looks. Witmate and Partante. Their names were known to everyone in the district, both generally staying away from the rest of the citizens. Witmate won nearly twenty years ago, when he was eighteen. Partante was a bit older, having won her game forty eight years ago when she was sixteen. They were going to be in charge of preparing District 7's tributes for their own Games, a job they had taken on every year since their wins.
Tina took her spot on stage next to the wrangler, and everyone held their breath again. "And now for the gentlemen." She swept her gaze over the boys and reached into the glass bowl to her left. Two more years and I'm free, Jeff thought, balling his hands into fists at his sides. I've made it through five years, I can make it through two more. Time seemed to slow as the woman lifted out the slip, one white piece of paper that held the fate of one more child of District 7.
"And our male tribute… Mr. Jeffery Sterling!" It didn't really hit him at first. Jeff stood there, blood pounding in his ears as people began to shuffle around him. Thad, a boy from work, let out a sigh of relief beside him, then looked over at Jeff apologetically. He couldn't blame him; he had done the same these last five years. Someone finally pushed him forward, out in front of the other two Peacekeepers. Jeff straightened his back, walking confidently up to the stage.
He tried to put on an air of strength, though inside all he could think about was going into that arena and dying. He saw the faces of the children who had gone and died before him, none able to stand up to the career tributes from Districts 1, 2, or 4, or the larger tributes from 10 and 11. He walked on stage and stood next to Tina, her eyes going to his, her fear evident as they both faced the crowd.
"We have our District 7 tributes for the 69th annual Hunger Games!" the wrangler yelled into the microphone, her name still escaping Jeff completely. "Wish these two luck and may the odds be ever in your favor!" With that, the alarm sounded again and those who were spared began to move. Jeff and Tina remained on stage, knowing what was going to come next.
They were ushered into the District's courthouse, each taken to separate rooms for their final goodbyes to their loved ones. If Jeff had close friends he might have expected them to come. But all he had were co-workers and his family. He sat in the room for what felt like forever until his mother came rushing through the door, his brother following after her. The two of them clutched onto Jeff, their tears seeping in through his button down shirt. His father stood closer to the door, his arms crossed in front of his chest.
"You guys will be okay," Jeff said quietly as his mother and brother pulled back. He looked at Jason, taking in his brother's features for a moment, his thin frame and blond hair, before placing his hand on the boys shoulder. "You have to help Dad take care of Mom, Jase. You are the man of the house when Dad's not around." Jason nodded, trying to keep a brave face but failing miserably.
"You have to come back Jeff. You have too." Tears streamed down his brother's face as the boy hugged him, his face buried in Jeff's chest.
"I'll do my best." He looked from his mother to his father, the man taking a step forward as Jeff forced Jason off. His eyes were shining with the tears he knew the man would never shed. They were the strong ones, his father having to take care of his mother and brother once they took Jeff off to Capitol. In his eyes though, the raw pain he was feeling was evident.
"You do us proud, you hear?" His father's deep voice also conveyed the emotions the man was trying so desperately to hide. He felt his father pull him into an unexpected hug, the man never one for displays of affection. "You can win. I know it," he muttered into his son's hair, pulling back to give him a stern look. He nodded before fully releasing the boy. His mother pulled him into another tight embrace before there was a knock at the door. "Come Jeffery! It's time to go!" The wrangler, whose name was Betrizz as Jeff had learned, sang through the door. How could anyone be so happy on a day like this? Were these Capitol citizens immune to any real emotion?
He gave a final sigh and looked at his family. "I love you guys. Root for me, okay?" His mother nodded before breaking down, crying into his father side. His brother pulled a dog tag out of his pocket, a simple 7 pressed into the metal.
"In school they told us you can bring in a token. Take this one," the boy muttered, handing the necklace over. Jeff nodded, slipping it into his pocket before hugging his brother briefly then heading for the door. He muttered a quiet goodbye as he exited the room, running into the Peacekeepers there. Tina stood by Betrizz, her eyes red and puffy. Behind closed doors, the brave often fall, he thought, giving her a tightlipped smile as they were led down the hall and out to car waiting for them. Partante and Witmate were already in the car, still looking as bored has they had at the reaping.
Betrizz blathered on about how honored they should be, representing their district. Jeff did his best to block her out, watching the tops of the trees rush by over the tops of the buildings as they made their way to the train station. It wasn't until they stepped onto the platform, the cameras having followed them, now tracking their every move for the viewers at home, that it hit him. The last time he had been here was when he had said goodbye to Nick. Nick, his best friend. Nick, who he had yet to see being reaped in District 2. Nick, who he prayed had not suffered the same fate as Jeff.
He realized, with the swish of the train door closing behind him, the Peacekeepers directing them to their car, this was it. He was either going to die or have eternal glory with the deaths of others on his hands. With that thought he solemnly said, "Let the Games begin."