"If home is where the heart is then we're all just fucked
I can't remember, I can't remember, and I want it so bad
I'd shoot the sunshine into my veins; I can't remember the good old days"
— 27 by Fall Out Boy
Chapter 2: Twenty Seven
The media has labeled Reyna Casse as "a prodigy, a hero, a creator". The woman seems to come from nowhere, a graduate of Panem's number one college (majoring in Chemical Engineering with a minor in astrophysics, which they always seem to leave out in the tabloids). She worked a part time job as an intern for a Gamemaker thanks to her family's connections, and just two years later, became an official Gamemaker.
A college degree under her belt and years of experience, Reyna was the head mutt maker for the Games. She created dozens of mutts, weaving them together with just a wave of her hand at the age of nineteen.
At twenty-three, Reyna became one of the top graphic designers on the Hunger Games team and singlehandedly, changed the physics behind the Arena. Reyna creates the first floating Arena, seemingly defying the laws of gravity.
When she's twenty-four, Reyna volunteered for the role of Head Gamemaker. It came as a shock to many, why the new mother who previously insisted she would never want to be Head Gamemaker suddenly lunged at the opportunity.
The 85th Games were Reyna's first, and they go smoothly with a classic Career from District Two coming out on top. When the Games are over and Reyna is asked again and again why she volunteered as Head Gamemaker, she never knows quite what to say. She doesn't know why she volunteered, either.
A week before the 87th Hunger Games, Reyna is five drinks in at President Peche's niece's birthday party. It's held at the President's Manor, and Reyna admits it's strange seeing young children running around the usually formal mansion.
The Head Gamemaker downs her third shot of tequila and waves away the lime slice handed to her. The alcohol makes its way to her stomach and she keeps a straight face as it does. Reyna Casse is no stranger to the burn of alcohol, and it has become a friend to her.
Reyna makes her way onto the balcony, carefully planning a route around the Gamemakers, parents of children, and cameras. The crisp air hits her sharply as she opens the double doors. She stares out at the scenery before her; the President placed her manor in the midst of a photo-worthy forest.
In the middle of summer, the trees around the mansion are bright green. If Reyna squints, she can just make out a lake in the distance with a waterfall pouring into it. The Head Gamemaker respects the President's decision to place her home here. In years past, the Presidential Manor has typically been placed in the center of Sector One. President Peche was the first to request a change.
Living in this mansion in the middle of almost nowhere, it's easy to forget the hustle and bustle of the Capitol. Reyna is reminded of it everytime she peers out of the windows of her own home; the bright lights greet her and the perky colorful citizens running about haunt her.
Reyna leans against the railing, staring out at the trees. Despite the abundance of alcohol in her system, Reyna's vision is sharp. It takes more than three shots of tequila to affect her at this point.
"Head Gamemaker Casse?"
Reyna feels her shoulders immediately square and her posture straighten at the sound of Mania Miles, the Capitol's most popular television host (after Caesar Flickerman, of course).
"We're wondering if you have a statement you want to put out. You know, before the Games begin," Reyna spins around to face Miles. Today, Miles' hair is navy blue and tied in a tight bun at the top of her head. "We've been trying to get one from President Peche, but she told us to get one from you, instead."
The Head Gamemaker plasters a smile on her face along with a nod. "Of course. Where do you want me to stand?"
Miles' face lights up in a grin and turns over her shoulder, calling out to her crew. Immediately, three men hurry out onto the balcony. One of them sets down a camera, angling it towards Reyna. Miles looks into the camera's viewfinder and sticks out a hand, waving Reyna to move to the left. To the right. Back to the left. Forward. To the right. "...Aaaand, perfect!"
The woman accepts a microphone from one of the men and scurries into the camera's view, planting herself down next to Reyna. The Gamemaker holds her breath to avoid inhaling Miles' sickly sweet perfume.
The man behind the camera holds up three fingers and puts one down with each second. Once all three are down, he points at Miles.
"Hellooooo, Panem! I'm Miles Mania, here with your favorite, Head Gamemaker Reyna Casse!"
Reyna looks into the camera and smiles, putting her hand up in a wave.
Miles slings an arm around Reyna's waist as she speaks. "As we all know, the 87th Hunger Games are just around the corner! Although the Arena has been on the down low, we're glad to say that Reyna has agreed to give us a sneak peek!"
Reyna keeps smiling despite her need to roll her eyes at the way Miles has, as always, twisted her words.
Once Miles has shoved the microphone in her face, Reyna takes a deep breath and gives another smile. "It's an honor to be Head Gamemaker for these games. I give my deepest gratitude to President Peche and my fellow Gamemakers,"
"And," she adds at the last second. "All of you, of course, for allowing me to continue to create these Games. I am pleased to announce that these Games will be unforgettable. They will not be extinct from anyone's minds."
Miles swings the mic back towards her. "You heard it here first, folks!"
Reyna is free.
The rest of the party is a blur of pretty pink cake, children giggling as they run around, and stuffy parents with wine in their hands. Even in her almost-drunk state, she notices the flashes of gold several of the adults adorn somewhere on their outfits. Reyna reckons President Peche will have a word with her about it in the morning.
Throughout the night, Reyna is stopped by multiple interviewers, and by ten o'clock, she has been interviewed five times, each time with a drink in hand.
I'm not drunk enough for this, Reyna thinks to herself in the midst of a particularly pathetic interview with an orange-haired man. Her glass is filled and emptied three times during the orange interview.
While walking into the study, Reyna swipes a long island iced tea from a passing waiter and sips it. She enjoys these few quiet minutes in the President's study, admiring the hundreds of books lining the shelves as she absentmindedly sips her drink.
The smell in the room reminds her of her childhood home. No Capitol-created-cotton-candy sweet scent. Just lemon cleaner and old book scent. Reyna sets down her now empty glass and runs a finger along one of the shelves.
Reyna's nostalgia and the warm feeling in her stomach disappears when her assistant, Winnie, and a purple-skinned interviewer rush in.
"He's from 'Good Morning Sector Three'," Winnie whispers as she hands Reyna a bright red bloody Mary. "Tell him the same thing you told the girl from 'Good Morning Sector One'."
The next morning, Reyna awakes with a pounding headache and a whirl of thoughts swarming in her head. These Games will be unforgettable, Won't become extinct, I'm forever grateful, My greatest gratitude...
In the mirror, her skin looks paler than usual, almost paper-white with the reminiscence of lavender dye. Platinum blond hair with hundreds of flyaways surrounding her round face. Injected lips with the absence of color.
Reya slips into her typical work outfit, grateful for the Stylists who meet her downstairs who immediately attack her with an assortment of cosmetics. When they deem her presentable for the cameras that no doubt are waiting for her outside, Reyna is released.
As soon as she gets into the black limo waiting for her, Winnie hands her a glass of orange juice. The glass, in Reyna's opinion, is far too fancy for a simple juice; long stem and swirls etched into the glass. Reyna sniffs it. She's right.
After ten minutes and two glasses, Reyna is escorted out of the limo and into Headquarters. Winnie hands her a pile of binders and papers just before Reyna is released on her own.
Reyna holds tightly onto the stack as she makes her way down the halls. Every nook and cranny of the pure white building is etched into Reyna's mind. Her legs guide her into President Peche's office for the routine morning check-in.
"Good morning, Reyna," President Peche greets her.
Had Reyna not been at the party herself, she would have never known the President was up until 2 o'clock partying. Her skin was flawless, eyes clear, red hair smooth. Reyna liked to imagine she looked just as flawless, kissed by the Capitol's makeup.
"Good morning," Reyna responds, taking her seat in the black leather chair in front of Peche's desk. "What can I do for you this morning?"
President Peche grins at Reyna's formality. "I assume you've done your research in the Districts, yeah?"
Reyna recognizes what she means instantly and begins to sort through her pile of papers. "Certainly," Reyna thumbs through them rapidly. "I've had it done for ages." It's a lie, of course. Reyna had only finished up the last bit of research in District Twelve two days ago.
She hands over a thin white paper to the President, who thanks her with a nod.
"Districts One, Two, and Four are volunteers," Reyna adds as the President skims the sheet. "I spoke to the Acadamies just weeks ago."
President Peche places the sheet down with a smile. "It looks wonderful, Reyna," she praises. "You've done a fantastic job, as always," Reyna can hear the hesitation in her voice and can already guess what's next.
"Now, I want to speak with you about something I'm sure you noticed at the party last night..."
As the President launches into a spiel about the golden mockingjays adorning everyones' outfits (We have to stop them! What if this affects the Games? I might have to take a visit to the Districts before them...), Reyna digs her nails into her palms and daydreams about Winnie handing her another glass of 'orange juice'.
Reyna likes President Peche, of course. She's a woman who knows what she wants, which Reyna has always admired. However, Clio Peche has a tendency to focus on things that don't matter. Reyna regretted telling Peche about the mockingjay fad in the Districts two days ago at 3 A.M. when Clio had called her, asking if she had any ideas to stop the mockingjay trend from spreading. After the Games began, the Districts' fascination with the mockingjay would disappear.
After they see her arena.
Reyna decides to occupy herself with something else and instead focuses her eyes on the sheet of paper still resting on the President's desk. Licking the reminiscence of the orange juice off her lips, Reyna reads the sheet for the hundredth time.
TRIBUTE LIST FOR THE 87TH ANNUAL HUNGER GAMES:
District One
Female:
Male:
District Two
Female:
Male:
District Three
Female:
Male
District Four
Female:
Male:
District Five
Female:
Male:
District Six
Female:
Male:
District Seven
Female:
Male: Jazer Winwood, 16
District Eight
Female:
Male:
District Nine
Female:
Male:
District Ten
Female:
Male: Clint Hawkins, 18
District Eleven
Female: Blossom Kalbin, 14
Male:
District Twelve
Female:
Male:
A/N: Hope you guys enjoyed this! I wrote this just to introduce you all to the Head Gamemaker, and also introduce the tribute list in a more unique way. I know it's a bit funny since there's only three tributes at the moment haha, but hopefully you were able to look past that. (:
I've also got a blog for this story now. There's no tributes on it yet (waiting to get all the spots filled before I post them), but you can take a look at some of the Capitolites! thecageisfull87. blogspot. com
