Next chapter is the Reaping!


Warm, albeit itchy, blankets were pulled up to my chin. These were definitely not the blankets from my house in Victors Village. No pillow rested under my head. Another anomaly. Under my back was a hard lumpy mattress that was uncomfortable after so many nights on a cloud-like bed. Several pairs of arms and legs were draped over, touching, or wrapped around my own limbs making it stuffy under the blankets.

I had never felt so at home.

During the last couple of days since the Quarter Quell theme announcement I had been sleeping back at the Shop. Despite the small room and cramped sleeping quarters my brothers had been sleeping with me. I think the boys were afraid that if they weren't there during the night that I would slip away again and this time I would never come back. After getting over the shock of how much I had missed of their lives once I'd come home I doubted I could ever leave again.

Brave young Boreas, now fourteen years old and pushing five foot ten, was beginning to take on the look of a tank I swear. His shoulders were wide and dripping with hard developing muscle. Shaggy blonde hair threatened to hide his currently closed blue eyes and made his manly good looks appear boyish. A statement his girlfriend would agree with.

Shy little Poplin wasn't so shy anymore. Now he was the hot younger brother of the richest girl in District Twelve; which didn't help his easily inflatable thirteen year old ego. If the girls were too young to go after Boreas they swarmed Poplin who looked like a thinner, shorter, and lither version of Boreas but with plenty muscle of his own. I swear if you stretched Poplin width wise at least two inches he would look identical to his older brother.

Then there was the matter of Rubus. The youngest of my brothers and the little boy who used to follow me around because he was afraid that I would be Reaped. The adorable kid who only calmed down when I was near and listened to everything I had to say, even if he didn't understand it all.

Oh had he changed.

Rubus avoided me like a fatal disease and only slept in my room because Boreas and Poplin had begged him to help keep me around. If I was within five feet of him otherwise, Rubus would visibly stiffen at my presence and give me a cold unforgiving stare. Any form of communication from me to him was shot out of the air with Rubus's icy blue dagger eyes.

It killed me— again— to see him like this and know it was my fault. Rubus had seen his only sister, his idol, and his best friend get Reaped, brutally murder other kids, come home completely off her rocker, ignore his need for comfort, avoid him accept at his father's funeral, and come home crying like a big bad wolf in sheep's clothing when she decided that the Victor's life wasn't for her after all. I hated myself too for all I had done so how could I blame Rubus for not wanting me around anymore?

Speaking of Rubus his eyes opened and for a second they were happy. For the merest moment he didn't hate me and was glad to see me home. Then the happiness vanished, replaced instead with the new coldness. Untangling his thin nine year old limbs not so carefully from his brothers' Rubus crept toward my bedroom door.

"I'm sorry." I whispered

Rubus hesitated.

"I don't like it either. I hate what they forced me to do and the choices I made."

The icy glare he shot me was communication enough: no one forced me to do anything. His belief that I could have stayed home and not played the Hunger Games was apparently still intact. I could have refused to go back and I could still refuse to go back this year.

Before he closed the door all the way behind him I had to tell him the truth. I told him about how President Snow would have killed our whole family if I didn't participate in the Hunger Games. That if I refused to Mentor he would do it anyways. Soon I'd have to do extra work— not that I told my ten year old brother that I would be used as a courtesan— for the Capitol or he would also kill the family. Once I finished Rubus quietly closed the door.

It was apparent no amount of explaining would ever be enough.

Winter melted into Spring. The world around me opened up into bright colors and giddiness. I had really missed this last year, the warm smiles of friends and family, the open air, my brothers' birthdays. I started sleeping at my house in Victors Village again so that I could visit my family during the day and return to some quiet during the night. Honestly I couldn't have worked out a better schedule if I tried. Early in the dark of the morning I would see Taftan and the two of us would talk until I fell back asleep, then Haymitch would come over around seven o'clock and we would share breakfast, afterwards I would go to my family's Shop to hang out with the family. Boreas' girlfriend visited the shop on occasion. Secretly I'd been worried that I would scare her off with the quiet power I had developed from playing the Hunger Games. Everything went down a tad differently.

Her name was Faun Nortek. She knew exactly who I was the moment she saw me which explained the enormous hug I received. Only once Faun told me her last name did it click that she was my dead best friend— and District Partner in the 48th Hunger Games— Bay Nortek's cousin. It made me sad that I wasn't able to save Bay every time I looked at her, but I knew that eventually it was something I would have to come to terms with.

Spring began to grow hotter. Summertime was just around the corner and was waiting to bring plentiful warmth to District Twelve. Most importantly the Reaping was drawing ever closer. My nerves grew increasingly raw with each day that brought me closer to the dreaded event. Four tributes. I had to mentor four tributes this year and the possibility of any of them winning was nigh impossible. Not that I would wish being a Victor on someone any more than dying in the Arena. Honestly there were some days I wish that during my Games that the boy from Seven had axed me, the boy from Three had speared me to the meadow floor, that I had drowned in the Flood, or that Evelyn would have knifed me in the heart because then I wouldn't have to keep playing. Last year when I mentored it was like going back into the Hunger Games. Every little happenstance reminded me of what happened to me and sent me into vivid flashbacks. It made me curl up in the corner of my room at night and rock back and forth while I cried as each death repeatedly played out in my head.

So when Reaping day arrived I half hoped that I would get weak tributes that would die quickly with as little pain as possible. At least they wouldn't have to live through it over and over like the Mentors did.

My dress for the event was simple. A rich pale satiny blue that flowed around my knees beautifully and hugged me in all the right places. Standing in my room in Victors Village I admired my mother's handiwork using the full length mirror that doubled as a beautifully crafted closet door.

"You look amazing."

Turning around I met Haymitch's somber gaze with my best fake smile, "Thanks. Mother took a lot of time on the dress— apparently I went from daughter to her best customer overnight."

"Titania you don't have to pretend with me." Haymitch smiled sadly, "You don't always have to be that fake person you show the Capitol. It's Reaping Day, everyone looks better than usual, and no one's happy about it."

I turned back to the mirror as tears pricked my eyes; it was time I told Haymitch about my deal with President Snow because through and through Haymitch knew me the best out of everyone and I would only feel better once I'd gotten it off my chest, "I'm afraid."

"We all are." he said in a soothing tone.

I shook my head, "Not like this. I'm afraid that both of my brothers will be picked, or both you and Sawyer, or any combination of the two. Either way I lose my family and I know it's just Snow's way of saying that..." a lump formed in my throat as I chickened out, "I can't hide."

Haymitch wrapped his arms around me from behind, "Shh. Snow has no reason to come after you Titania. You survived the Arena fair and square. You haven't made him look like a fool or done anything else to give him the motive."

If this had been any other day of the year I would have broken down and cried into his shoulder. But today was Reaping Day. The makeup I'd been forced to wear by special request from President Snow himself would smudge into Haymitch's crisp dove grey shirt. Having a clean appearance on this day had been beaten into our skulls since we could say 'Hunger Games'. It went against that indissoluble law to ruin Haymitch's shirt now with frightened tears. So I put on my brave face and grabbed one of my boyfriend's rough hands instead.

"Let's go."

The walk to the Town Square— which you had to go through to get to the train station in a timely manner— from Victors Village was a short one that over the last two years I had made often. Gea, the former Hunger Games stylist for District Twelve, now owned her own magazine named Conquor that had all the new fashion for the Capitol and all the best gossip for the Hunger Games and often had me model some of the shots for her. Other magazines clamored for my time but I refused. I worked for Gea solely because she had helped me look good enough to get some sponsors during my Games and I owed her my life for that. No one else was going to get a photo shoot from Titania Fellcrest, no sir.

Once in the Square a couple of reporters got photos of Haymitch and me hand in hand. Annoyed at the unwanted attention I directed Haymitch over near the tribute sign in tables where it was nigh impossible to get a good shot through the milling crowd.

"I hate that." I grouched.

"I thought you didn't care about your picture being taken?" Haymitch chuckled. Of course he knew about my modeling job, it was the only job I was allowed to bring other people along on not that I did anyways.

Rolling my eyes I laughed softly, "No, I hate it when they stalk me through the Capitol streets to see if I have any love interests. Every little friendly gesture to a man is seen as 'Titania's newest crush'. It's like they go out of their way to paint me as some love struck school-girl."

Haymitch placed his hands on my hips and gave me a mischievous debonair grin, "Well are you?"

I smacked his shoulder, "This is neither the time nor place for your antics Mr. Abernathy."

Ignoring me, Haymitch forced my chin up, "It's at times like this that I wish I could kiss you."

I bit my lip, "It's times like this when I'm glad you wo—,"

Haymitch's soft lips cut me off causing a flash of intoxicating sparks to dance through my body. His hands slid to my lower back and mine found their way to his solid chest. Then I remembered that the whole teen population of District Twelve was watching this and I pushed Haymitch away.

"When I say it's not the time, I mean it." I snapped as my cheeks flushed with embarrassment.

"Which is why you unconsciously bit your lip." Haymitch replied with amused sarcasm, " Body Language 101: when you talk to someone about kissing them, they will subconsciously bite their lower lip if they want you to." Haymitch smirked, "So I had permission to kiss you because you wanted me to."

"Do you realize you kissed me in front of all the people that I could be Mentoring?" I growled, "Do you know how embarrassing that is?"

"Why should they care? Your love life is nobody's business but yours." Haymitch pointed out.

In a horrible moment I almost threw it in Haymitch's face that President Snow was going to make my love everyone's business before I stopped short, "Why don't you think about why it's embarrassing for me? Then we'll talk."

"Because you're embarrassed of me?"

"No." My heart broke at the sight of his hurt expression, "I'm not embarrassed of you."

"Maybe she ought to be."

To my right stood a very spiteful looking Upper-District boy named Herren Igskwee. The two of us had plenty of friends in common but were only acquaintances in actuality. Herren was a tall twiggy boy that always wore his hair slicked back off of his forehead. Of all the times I had seen him at school the guy was always so cheerful, but at the moment he looked downright murderous.

"Grubby little Seam boy taking advantage of District Twelve's only Victor— you ought to be ashamed of yourself. I'm sure your bad-boy charm reeled her in, but you ought to know better than to put your filthy inbred hands all over her in the Upper-District."

Several other teens were glaring at Haymitch and nodding in agreement with Herren; all of these kids I had known since I could walk and they probably thought they were looking out for me, but in reality they just weren't.

"Who are you calling inbred?" Haymitch snapped back with equal vehemence, "Last time I checked blonde hair was a recessive gene. So was your mother supposed to be your aunt if things went the natural way?"

My hyperactive special awareness kicked in and I saw Herren's punch before he threw it. Catching his arm I twisted it up behind his back, wrapped my other arm around his neck, and kicked him in the back of the knees which forced him to kneel. Red tinged my vision and for a moment I was going to snap Herren's neck. Lucky I'd gotten better at controlling those wild out of the blue moments of overwhelming instinct.

"Herren, I like you." I whispered in his ear calmly, "Please don't make a scene. The whole Upper-District hates the Seam and the Seam hates them back thing has got to stop." In the back of my mind I was aware of everyone staring and the Peacekeepers drawing their guns, "That boy you were about to punch is my boyfriend because I love him. Do you think— if you consider how quickly I incapacitated you—that any guy could forcibly take advantage of me? Please go sign in for the Reaping."

I released my grip and stood back, offering my hand to help Herren stand up. Gingerly he took it and with very red cheeks went over to sign in. The Peacekeepers around the tables were slowly putting away their weapons. If I had snapped Herren's neck they would have shot me faster than a Capitol escort can say 'Happy Hunger Games'.

"Since when could you fight like that?" Haymitch asked quietly.

"Always." I replied seriously as I smoothed out my dress, "I didn't know it until the wolf mutation two years ago, but it was pretty obvious during the tribute trials that I was a natural when it comes to self-preservation. I broke a Peacekeeper's elbow during the second trial when he tried to choke me."

Haymitch grinned, "You're amazing."

I grinned back, "Go sign in before you get yourself into any real trouble. I have to make my way over to the stage."

With a light peck on my cheek Haymitch joined the line of potential tributes while I made my way around the crowd to District Twelve's Justice Building in front of which sat the stage. Going through a side entrance I saw District Twelve's Mayor casually talking to a couple other District officials. Behind them, chatting with a young man I had not yet met, was Twelve's tribute escort Alvis. His hair was the color of a moonless night and slicked carefully back. When my stormy blue eyes met his I saw they were still the same black color as his hair.

"Titania, you ought to introduce me to your dark haired lover boy sometime. It's so strange that you didn't even mention him last year." Alvis greeted happily as his companion shifted nervously.

I fought off the blush I felt coming on as I realized Alvis probably saw that whole encounter with Herren, "Only if you introduce me to your friend here."

"Oh, of course, how silly of me." Alvis sighed, "Titania this is District Twelve's new Head Stylist Delphin."

The young man, who had strange metallic grey eyes and cloudy white hair, offered me his right hand to shake, "It's an honor to finally meet the Victor my Aunt Gea has been raving about for the last two years. She was right— you are even more beautiful in person."

"The pleasure is mine." I shook his hand lightly, "I thought that Stylists weren't allowed to come to the Districts."

"If we don't know the right people we can't." Delphin smiled as he released my hand, his prominent cheekbones giving him an aura of pride, "I simply told my good friend the Head Gamemaker that I had to deliver this to you before you arrived at the Capitol."

Delphin produced tomorrow's copy of Conquer magazine and handed it to me. On the front was a picture of last year's Hunger Games Victor from Three— he wasn't all that handsome or ugly but he had a snarky confidence about him that drew people in— and me. He and I were side by side caught mid laugh and from the looks of it we pretty chummy with each other. The main caption read: The do's and don'ts of post Hunger Games dating.

Inside I knew was an interview Gea had forced me into. Apparently I was the only one of the few Victors from the outer lying districts who actually had any romance in their life. Last year's Victor Flux Bransick was the other obvious choice seeing as he won most recently and if rumor was correct he had quite the following of girls back in his district.

Not bothering to open it I looked back at Delphin with a believable smile of pleasure, "Thanks. I was wondering if Gea would send me this issue."

"No problem at all; I was actually just looking for any little excuse to come meet you in person before our work together really begins." Delphin's metallic grey eyes took on a dazed star struck look and I realized that they were the color of Titanium.

Great. He was a fan of my dirty work.

Thankfully the Mayor stepped up and told us it was time for the Reaping to begin, which gave me an excuse to leave Delphin's company before things got any more awkward. Every bomb has a silver lining. I had the distinct feeling that the brief reprieve I had been given was all the silver lining I would be getting today. The Mayor, his other officials, and I sat on a row of chairs on the right of the stage where we would watch the proceedings from. Alvis traipsed over to the microphone with his usual greasy yet genuine enthusiasm.

"Welcome one and all to District Twelve's Reaping for this year's very exciting Quarter Quell!" Alvis announced.

Ignoring the usual Capitol propaganda video that they fed us every year, I searched the crowd behind the tribute pools for a face that never ceased to ease my nerves. There, off to the right of the tributes as close as he could get to the stage, was Taftan. As per usual for Reaping Days Taftan's hair was well combed and he looked dashing to say the least in his black vest, white button down, and dark grey slacks. He smiled reassuringly at me and I instantly felt calmer.

Alvis announced the first girl, "Maysilee Donner."

Too afraid that if I looked away from Taftan for longer than a couple seconds, I glanced at the girl long enough to gather she was pretty and from the Upper-District, then returned my gaze to Taftan.

When Alvis read the next slip I repeated the process. Briare Morningway was very pretty and also from the Upper-District.

Alvis went over to the boys name bowl as I finally broke eye contact with Taftan and searched for my family. It was easy to spot Sawyer, Faun— who had become like a sister to me over the last few months— over with the fifteen year old girls, Poplin, and Boreas, but Haymitch was nowhere to be seen. It was like he was hiding from me on purpose.

"Haymitch Abernathy."

Unsure I had heard Alvis correctly I leaned over to the Mayor, "Who did he just call?"

"Haymitch Abernathy." He repeated the name that obviously meant nothing to him.

There he was, his back turned to me on stage as he he stood next to Alvis. This couldn't be happening. What were the chances of a Victor's boyfriend getting Reaped? Practically none! So how on earth did he...

Suddenly it clicked that Haymitch had been picked specifically to remind me what would happen if I kept the Capitol waiting for my services or denied them altogether. It was my fault Haymitch was up there. Snow did this to keep me in line and sending off the only guy in Panem who could make me truly happy to die was the way Snow decided to go about it. I was so absorbed in my self-loathing that the Mayor had to give my shoulder a little shake when it was time to leave the stage. All the cameras were off. I had missed the name of the last tribute, but I was a little too overwhelmed to care all that much.

As I left the stage I felt completely numb inside. The same numbness I had felt saying goodbye to my family before the 48th Games, that crushed me after Bay's death, the very feeling that killed me all over again when Father had been killed. That same numbness had haunted me for two years and I understood by now that it was my body's inability to feel the level of emotional pain I was in. It was the feeling I always got when someone was going to die.

This time it was Haymitch's turn.


If you guys could pick actors to play the cast of "The Other Victor" who would you pick?

Not every single character obviously, but the main group who are:

Titania Fellcrest

Haymitch Abernathy

Taftan Mellark

Bay Nortek

Evelyn

Quinn

Wren Fernbank

Hock

Let me know who you would choose! Next time I post I'll tell you who my personal picks are at the end of the chapter!