SYOT Note: At the end of this chapter is the tribute list. Please verify that your tribute is recorded correctly and that it's completion status is accurate.

Author's Note: Sorry for the long delay! I had family visiting from Sunday to Thursday which really limited my writing time. Anyway, here's chapter 4-I hope you enjoy reading it as much as I enjoyed writing it!

Also, on my profile page I've included contact information; if for whatever reason you need to or have the desire to contact me, you can try one of those other options instead of PMing me on here.

Chapter 4

The Reapings

"What a jerk," Jade muttered through gritted teeth as Mr. Rubin vanished into a different crowd of careers, no doubt scaring them half to death, as was his custom. "For once I thought we found a Peacekeeper who I didn't hate. He acted nice, then he just got crazy."

"He wasn't that bad," Cole said, his voice calm but effectively cloaking his own apprehension. What had Mr. Rubin meant to achieve? Was he trying to subtly help them—to warn them? Or was he just a smug despot as his sister had depicted? Cole furrowed his eyebrows in deep thought as Asa pushed their walking pace from behind, like a talkative, high-pitched conveyor belt. "Yeah, yeah, yeah. You don't have to get rowdy," Cole mumbled, removing Asa's propeller hand from his back. "Um, do you think Mr. Rubin was trying to tell us something deeper? Err—well, I mean, it's just that most Peacekeepers are so blunt with us, but he treated us differently: almost like he cared. What do you think?"

"Don't know," Jade said matter-of-factly. "I just think he's a shady guy. And he's still a Peacekeeper, even if he treated us differently. And all Peacekeeper's are shady. Not to mention they're born to hate us."

Cole winced ponderously, as though his intrigue were a dull ache in his brain. Asa merely watched and listened with naive inquisitiveness, feeling too young and unhelpful to contribute to their conversation. "I just don't think he was that bad to us," Cole repeated. "He saved us. And he could've done a lot worse."

"I guess." Jade's tone did not camouflage her incredulity. She dropped the discussion, tracing her fingers along a stinging gash that orbited her forearm like a bracelet. "I hope Lance gets reaped and he dies in the bloodbath. How's your head? You're still bleeding a little. Seriously, he might've killed you."

"No, no." Cole waved a dismissive hand as if to say "it's fine". "He's just a stupid career. That's what they do. That's…that's what they're born to do. My head's fine, thanks, but whatever." He said the last word with such uncharacteristic nonchalance that Jade further frowned her already-pursed lips.

"What? You can't just ignore what he did! You always defend people," Jade argued, swiping the air with exaggerated hand motions. "Why do you do that? Lance almost killed you! And think about all the horrible things he said about mom! And what about Mr. Rubin? I don't care what you say, he was flat-out untrustworthy. I love you, but sometimes you're just too nice for your own good."

Cole rose his eyebrows, but he didn't meet her desperate stare. He couldn't say she was wrong. Maybe he was too trusting? Or too believing in "the greater good of people"? He customarily allowed his stress to run rampant, but in a defiant way he had chosen to act composed and unconcerned. "Oh, um…don't get me wrong: I mean, I was scared. But I don't want revenge, because he's not a bad person. Well, maybe he is. But I don't see it that way. He's just different than we are, I think."

Jade exhaled a sharp line of air, exasperated. Her innate judgment fortified her claim that Lance was bad, but Cole's maturity and pragmatic vindication made her consider otherwise. "Maybe you're right, I don't know. I'm just trying to help. But either way, it's entirely his fault." She nodded toward Asa, the sparkle in his eyes disappearing like dust.

Cole sighed. "It's not—"

"There you go again," she interposed. Asa remained quiet—they bickered like his parents.

Cole rolled his eyes and forced back a smile—his sister was always stubborn when she was "just trying to help". "Well—um, it's just—I don't think we need to point fingers. It's not his fault and it's certainly not ours. Let's just all…be friends?" He gave Asa a quick smile, who toothily grinned back in agreement. flushed

Cole admired his twelve-year old friend. Asa was an outcast for his own reasons. He looked far from a typical career, and obtained his few friends by being unconditionally kind, albeit immature at times. Cole felt oddly linked to him, by virtue instead of blood. But Asa had never been afraid to irritate the mighty careers, despite his stunted growth and sickly defects. He wasn't blessed with strength, but alternatively with speed. In his mind, Cole counted his own skills, rapidly feeling far inferior to his younger, black-haired counterpart.

Asa tugged at Cole's sleeve to get the blonde's attention. The pale boy stared up at him, looking unhealthy and pallid, an idiosyncratic parity to the vampire era. "Cole, can we go to the library after the reapings? There's this new book I wanna show you. It's all about the Capitol and Panem, it's really interesting. It's got everything. It's…" He trailed off, too excited for his own good.

Cole smiled warmly and nudged Asa's arm. "Sure we can." He fell into step with the boy and walked alongside him, a few paces behind his sister. "You know it wasn't your fault, right? Jade didn't mean to blame you like that. She's…she's just a little shaken up because of the reapings."

Asa smiled again, his lost confidence quickly restored. "Thanks Cole. But still…I'm sorry. I didn't mean to get you in such big trouble. I could've gotten you hurt, and it would've been all my fault. You're my best friend, I don't know what I would do without you." He sounded genuinely apologetic, kicking shyly at the asphalt as he took blame.

"Wait, really? I…I'm y-your best friend?" Cole had long since understood to remove the words "best friend" from his vocabulary. Hell, just "friend" was rare enough. "That means a lot, Asa. Th-thank you."

"Of course!" Asa smiled up at him, oblivious to Cole's honest appreciation.

The blonde felt an emotional lump rising in his throat. With this revelation, he felt obligated to ensure Asa was healthy and his life happy. "How are you feeling?" Cole asked, nodding at the boy as though pointing at something specific. "You're not feeling sick anymore, are you? You said your meds used to make you feel sick."

"Oh, no! I'm fine. Doctor changed it right up. And they're just vitamins, not meds," Asa said, sticking his tongue out and smiling giddily.

Cole sheepishly averted his friend's gaze. "Oh-h—right, 'vitamins'," he stammered.

"But Doctor says the Peacekeepers are trying to run him out of business."

"Why the hell would they do that?" Cole asked, reflexive irritation in his tone. Then he looked ruefully at Asa and quickly backpedalled: "Err—why the heck would they do that?"

Asa giggled as though listening to the ramblings of an inexperienced child. "It's not like I've never heard you curse before. What are you, my mom?" He swallowed another snicker.

Cole grew flustered, his face already red from the torrid sun. "Sorry—it's just, maybe I should be nicer to you. I guess I never really treated you the best, have I?"

Asa cocked his head to the side like an impish puppy. "Nicer to me? Cole, you're the best best bestest friend a person could ask for." He flashed his teeth in a full-faced grin, nudging the blonde's elastic arm with his. "And I saw what you did with Lance—you got my back!"

Cole wondered if "got my back" had been redefined to mean "stood around being useless", but he spared the question for the sake of his own self-esteem. Still, Asa's ever-optimistic words had lured a genuine smile to Cole's face. "I didn't realize you looked at me as some hero, or something. It actually means a lot, so…thanks, buddy," he said, and Asa matched Cole's expression with a quirky smile of his own.

Their ephemeral contentment melted like the wax of a waning candle as the trio arrived at town square, the fire fueling their happiness completely extinguished. Town square was a robust swarm of power-hungry teens, all waiting restlessly at the foot of a grand stage. New arrivals formed two long, winding lines in wait of a DNA registration finger prick. Typical careers assembled District Two's yearly roundup: tall, strong, fast, and "even occasionally smart" as Jade had mocked. Each career possessed a wide assemblage of their hallmark strengths and weaknesses, but one realization became abundantly clear to the three wide-eyed onlookers: they all looked petrifying.

The stage was littered with oversized television screens, serving to provide real-time feedback of the reapings. At a microphone stood a poodle-haired Capitol representative, her height humorously underlined from behind a looming podium. She gussied herself using a bedazzled pocket-mirror, perfecting her hair and tilting her powdered face in a multitude of directions to ensure the light caught her beauty from every angle.

Jade exhaled grouchily, blowing air upward and dispersing wisps of her hair. Then she turned to her brother, eyes glazed-over. "I'm sorry," she moaned, embracing him without warning. She held him firmly as a single burning tear slid down her cheek. "Let's just get home, okay? I'm sorry I blamed Asa." She released Cole and gave the other boy an Asa-sized hug of his own. "I'm sorry I blamed you, okay? I was just scared and moody, that's all."

Cole rarely saw true emotion in his normally easygoing sister, but he strangely welcomed this change. "We'll be okay. People will volunteer like every year…nothing to worry about. Let's just get this over with and get back to mom." He pointed to the blonde-haired woman from across the plaza. She stood beyond the fenced perimeter with other career families like an appalling monstrosity, her horrified visage supplementing her ever-tired features. "For mom, okay? She needs us."

Jade looked at her brother innocently, her face almost imploring. "Yes," she said finally. Before her emotions could wreak havoc on her make-up, she separated from her brother and joined a line of females waiting to get their fingers pricked. She watched Cole and Asa form the tail of their respective line, seamlessly merging with careers twice their size like tiny, unwanted parasites invading an ever-growing organism. But they wore helpless, benign expressions. They look like cattle, she thought, lining themselves up just to get slaughtered.

Cole inched forward in conformity with the line. To keep his restless mind at bay, he chronicled his minor cuts and bruises. Asa stood behind him, paler than an ill vampire, a feat that hardly seemed possible even for the sickly child. They were insulted by the occasional passerby, but remained passive and unaffected: nothing new.

Cole heard the boys in front of him squabbling, a brutish outburst of finger-pointing and teeth-clenching threats. He could hardly decipher if they were best friends or mortal enemies, but in District Two, there was little difference. Then the verbal quarrel transitioned into an unfettered fist-fight, each boy wrestling the other to the ground and throwing unmerciful punches.

Cole's stomach churned at the sight of blood. He looked away and looped around the fighting careers, rejoining the line. Asa followed at Cole's heels, mouth agape as he watched the boys.

"Did you see that, Cole?" he asked, in a voice that suggested he just witnessed an alien abduction. "Did you see that?"

The blonde grimaced, but didn't look back. "Unfortunately."

Asa clung to Cole's arm like a child keeping close to his parent. But he didn't take his inquiring eyes off the fist-fight that had since gained an enthusiastic crowd. "Cole, can you fight?"

"Ehh…" Cole felt uneasy. "No, not really. Haven't you seen me, um, 'fight' at school? I'm not interested in hurting other people."

"Oh," Asa said, eyes still fixed. "M-me neither. You're like a good guy, not a fighter."

"Hmm. I'm a lover, not a fighter?"

"That's it," the twelve year old answered. "You're one of the good guys."

"Yeah, the good guys," Cole repeated, his eyeshot far from the brawl. The whump of unabated punches bade him look forward.

Asa bumped into Cole from behind as the line halted. He alarmingly looked up at his blonde-haired friend, watching him extend his index finger for DNA registration. A bitter-looking woman snatched Cole's wrist like a penny on the ground, pricking his finger and telling him to join the boys his age. Asa received similar treatment, his expression sour as he caressed his throbbing finger.

"See you later?" the young boy asked hopefully.

Cole offered a faint smile. "Of course. And…um, we can go to the library, like you said. To read that book you're all excited about. Sound good?"

"Yeah!" Asa scampered away in good spirits, finding the other twelve year olds.

Cole joined his appropriate age group and stood awkwardly among his taller and stronger peers, feeling decidedly out of place. Perhaps, he hoped, during the stampeding frenzy of male volunteers, he might get trampled underfoot and never need to relive this humility.

A boy from behind shoved him. "Why don't you volunteer, Princess?"

Cole didn't turn around. He heard another boy snicker and mutter, "Nah, let him go home and play with his dollhouse. If his mom can afford one."

Cole's skin was blistering with repressed rage: "Princess" was just a familiar nuisance of a juvenile nickname, but insults gaged toward his mother filled him with a deep-rooted, visceral frustration. Still, he didn't turn around.

The grating voice of the first boy yelled, "Hey, we're talking to you." He shoved Cole again, his fat fingers abrasively pinching Cole's back. The rebel flung forward like a rag-doll, falling to his knees and scraping them hard against the gravel.

"Haaaa!" the boy cackled as Cole dusted off his outfit, the second time that afternoon. The blonde shot the larger, slightly pudgy boy an unyielding glare. But he remained voiceless and turned away from his aggressor, his temporary vow of silence magnifying his undeterred stance.

"Hey!" the pudgy boy said, growing impatient with Cole's seeming repellence to his insults. "Hey, look at me!" He prepped his hands for another shove, crouching like a tiger stalking it's prey.

"Welcome, welcome, to the 311th Annual Hunger Games!" A booming, amplified voice hushed all chit-chat and movement. Cole noticed a thick, nose-prickling dust settling over the entire scene like a musty blanket. "My name is Amina Starr, your District Two escort." The short woman's introduction was evocative of a queen's—dramatic pauses in speech, and her arm's spread wide at the sound of her own name. Cole had long since recognized the woman's well-adored English accent and unconcealed vanity: Amina Starr had been the District Two escort for seven years.

"To the right of me is your more than able-bodied mentor—" she ruffled her curly green hair and gave a flirtatious wink to the black-haired victor—"Mr. Chromius Ashe! Winner of the 300th Annual Hunger Games!" The crowd erupted in a flurry of hoots and hollers. Males young and old whooped buoyantly for the man whose destiny they eagerly wanted to replicate, while females cooled themselves using imaginary fans, enamored with the sight of the handsome, perfectly-chiseled Adonis of a man. Cole caught a glimpse of his sister through the commotion, watching as she rolled her eyes and wrung out her hands in flagrant disinterest.

Amina Starr pulled her cherry-red lips into a thin smile. When the acclamation subsided, she continued reading from her pre-constructed script. "Over three hundred years ago, the people of Panem defied their Capitol. In place of this defiance, the Hunger Games were instilled, issuing unending complaints from the other districts. But to you I ask, you bright young boys and girls: which district was the first to welcome the Hunger Games with open arms?"

A chorus of self-praise swelled within the crowd. Cole speculated whether even a single career had the intelligence to answer Amina's question with a response wasn't reminiscent of a barbaric war cry. He stretched his elastic outfit near the neckline, desperately inviting any stray breeze to keep him cool.

"Indeed!" Ms. Starr concurred. "We are the future of Panem! We are the leaders! We are the fighters! We are the intelligence! We are the handsomest and prettiest district!" Cole wondered if she included that unscripted last line for good measure, a self-referential statement to curb her appetite for flattery.

"Panem doesn't need it's liars and its rebels. What good are those who struggle against our Capitol? What good are the districts that defy us, each and every day?" Cole wanted to mention that "the districts that defy us" were more than necessary to keep the economy even half-stable, but he opted to maintain his obstinate silence.

"Do we need these nuisances?" Amina asked, placing her characteristic emphasis on whichever arbitrary words she deemed important. "Does District Two deserve to live in a country full of rebels, whose allegiance is pledged far from our Capitol?" True emotion began to surface, her face hot and straining. "Do we deserve this?!"

A collective chant of disapproval surged through town square, careening off unseen obstacles and dispelling in a low rumble. Careers muttered and cursed rebel names, as though a windy gale could carry their insults to the last house in Panem. Cole rubbed the back of his neck. He stared intently at the ground, avoiding the wave of vindication that swept through the mob of angry teens.

"No, we don't deserve this! District Two does not deserve this!" Amina proclaimed, curbing an imminent round of applause with a quick tsk. "We don't—and never will—deserve to live in fear of these rebels!"

Cole thought her words were laced with hypocrisy.

"Do you see this?" Amina pointed to the largest television screen responsible for broadcasting the reapings Panem-wide. "This is what victors look like. This is what true Panem looks like!" An uproarious round of applause flared through the crowd at her feet. Amina Starr grinned sinisterly, her face resembling plastic beneath her cosmetics.

The woman removed the microphone from its metal grasp and walked freely into center stage. Her height was no longer disproportioned by the podium, making her elevated position feel drastically more imperious. Cole swallowed his nerves and flexed his shaking fingers.

The escort stopped in front of two glass bowls, which were brim-full with thousands of paper slips. Seven times, Cole reminded himself, seven chances.

"Let us begin the ceremony by selecting one male and one female to represent District Two in this year's Hunger Games. And, may the odds be ever in your favor…" Amina's golden eyes rested on the glass bowl to her left. "Ladies first."

Cole peered through the crowd, looking for his sister; he didn't see her.

Amina hovered her arm over the glass bowl for several seconds, sweeping her hand in a circle as though trying to conjure a specific name. Then she delved her arm into the sea of papers, fervidly snatching a name near the bottom of the bowl . She reeled back and held her hand in midair for what seemed like frozen perpetuity, displaying a folded slip of paper between her fingers. In that moment, Cole was certain he could hear a pin drop on farthest reach of Panem.

The escort pressed the paper to her heart. Eyes fastened on the stage, every career girl crouched into a run-ready position, digging their shoes against the gravel for stability.

Amina unfolded the paper and glimpsed down, her fake eyelashes a canopy over her veiled eyes. Cole felt the pressure of Amina's dramatic prelude fall heavy onto his tensed shoulders, and for a incalculable moment, the entire world stood still like a film paused mid-way.

"Jadelyn Spera."

No one had called her Jadelyn in a long time.

And like bulls pursuing a red-shirted matador, hundreds of career girls darted for the stage—for Amina. They were toppling over each other in earnest dedication, drawing up dirt from the gravelly Earth into a noxious cloud. Iterations of "I volunteer!" spread like wildfire, each career desperate to accept Jadelyn Spera's place in the Hunger Games.

Cole's head was swimming; he buried his face in his hands and shut his eyes, trying to calm his overwrought nerves. In his mind manifested Amina Starr's taunting powdered face; and ringing through his ears, jeering repetitions of his sister's name—"Jadelyn Spera, Jadelyn Spera,"—replaced the flood of loud-mouthed career girls swarming onstage. A single tear crept down his cheek, a glinting scar visible only from a precise angle.

Onstage, Amina waved her hands frantically through the air, trying to suppress the storm of feverish careers. Several girls were already mounting the stage in tangled heaps of sweat and dirt. "Stop! Stop it!" Amina screeched. It took several seconds for the girls to abruptly halt, bemused expressions replacing their once-hellbent visages. "Stop! Just, stop…thank you. Girls, please, exit the stage. You see, this year, things are different. The Capitol has issued a new District Two policy. We don't need other people to fight our battles for us—no! We don't need our friends to volunteer for us. District Two is the greatest district of Panem, and District Two is the home of the greatest careers of Panem! So let her come—this Jadelyn Spera—and take what is rightfully hers!"

Amina's enthusiastic speech was received with a shared groan. Mutters of disappointment quickly escalated into a chant of retribution. From the stage, Ms. Starr waved away the malicious insults like nettlesome mosquitoes. "Look! Our female tribute emerges! Let us celebrate her arrival!"

Cole's eyes scanned the televisions. On each screen, the camera dizzily panned through the crowd of females in search for the one in question. And when the camera stopped, there was a small clearing with a single girl in the center.

Cole's knees quivered, lifeless and barely supporting his weight. The feeling spread to his stomach, making him sick; and from his stomach to his heart, which pulsated so hard that it throbbed; and from his heart, rising through his chest and across his aching, tense shoulders, until it clogged his throat, a choking lump that distended his lungs and summoned a rainfall of steaming tears.

He gasped and sobbed, unafraid of crying in public.

The blonde watched the screen through blurry-eyed vision. His sister's expression was innocent and downcast, black hair shielding her pale face. Shaky hands clung tightly to the frills of her pink dress, and her lips moved faintly as if whispering something. The other girls' scowls were like lasers on her skin as she shuffled uncomfortably with slow, trepidatious steps.

Then he saw her onstage, beside Amina. He saw the real Jade. Not the televised, pixelated version, but the real Jade.

Cole desperately cried out her name, but his voice was so weak that it cracked and faded like a fragile squeal.

"Welcome, welcome! Jadelyn Spera, our new District Two female career!" Amina held Jade's hand high in the air. The escort was beaming while Jade struggled to keep her emotions restrained. "Jadelyn, what do you have to say to the crowd?"

Jade flinched and jerked back as the microphone was shoved under her lips. She skimmed the outskirts of the adult crowd: there was Lisa weeping hysterically, cursing the Captiol's name as a Peacekeeper spitefully hushed her. Turning to face Amina, Jade simply shook her head, unwilling to speak.

"My, my, a quiet one, are we?" Amina drew her lips into a thin, displeased line. "Well, I'm sure you will be the great heroine of the arena and capture all of Panem's hearts!" The escort laughed at herself, her voice neurotic as the animosity of the crowd grew heavier. No one applauded for Jade.

"Moving along then!" Amina paused in front of the second glass bowl. The crowd's anticipation had since evaporated, the indifferent males lividly folding their arms or stuffing their pockets with coarse, ready-for-action hands.

The escort immediately plucked out the first paper she saw, abandoning all drama. As she glimpsed at the name, a sinister, crocodile grin carved itself in place of her normally-pursed lips. "The Hunger Games are truly, truly amazing. For centuries they've saved families—bringing mothers and fathers and daughters and sons closer together. Maybe to the other districts it seems unfair, but really, we are saving families." She needlessly prefaced the reveal of the male tribute. It was clear she no longer recited from a script, but now formed words on a whim. These words stuck in everyone's minds like sap to a tree, regaining the attention of those who lost interest.

"But today, by the very fates of chance, we are ruining families." An infinite pause lingered in her speech.

"Welcome, welcome…Cole Spera."

Chapter Question: What's up with no D2 volunteers? Jade and Cole getting reaped?

Tribute List

Make sure your tribute's name, age, district, and submission status is correct! If you have yet to finish or submit your tribute, you still have about 1 week to do so. finalized = full application sent ; partial submission = only parts of application sent ; reserved = reserved, no information yet sent

District 1 Male - Jean Trent, 18 ; Hunterfields (status: finalized)

District 1 Female - Ambrosia (Rose) Rubie, 17 ; cloudy5 (status: finalized)

District 2 Male - Cole Spera, 16 ; PisuLuckee (status: finalized)

District 2 Female - Jadelyn (Jade) Spera, 14 ; PisuLuckee (status: finalized)

District 3 Male - Destin Tames, 16 ; T1nyDanc3r (status: finalized)

District 3 Female - Annie Wickham, 16 ; YesmyLordCiel (status: partial submission)

District 4 Male - Andrew (Sandy) Chip, 18 ; Dumbo123 (status: finalized)

District 4 Female - Jayleigh (Jay) Llyr, 17 ; JadeRavenstone (status: finalized)

District 5 Male - Byren Sauvy, 15 ; YoshiMaster736 (status: finalized)

District 5 Female - Fia Thame, 15 ; ElliiLouise (status: finalized)

District 6 Male - Hydan Olser, 17 ; trinityxslayer (status: finalized)

District 6 Female - Jade (Poison) Hemlock, 14 ; Dr. camfiction (status: finalized)

District 7 Male - Heracles Kaizer, 15 ; Lupus of ooo (status: finalized)

District 7 Female - Sierra Kyles, 17 ; yes-it-is-me360 (status: finalized)

District 8 Male - Lezar Murnon, 13 ; DashSputnik (status: finalized)

District 8 Female - Arabella Thimble, 18 ; Just-Your-Ordinary-Author (status: finalized)

District 9 Male - Willow Sanders, 18 ; epictomguy (status: partial submission?)

District 9 Female - Olivia (Oliver) Glassow, 14 ; Atashi Desu (status: finalized)

District 10 Male - Kieson Dove, 18 ; AnnieTreasure (status: finalized)

District 10 Female - Josaline (Josie) Tanner, 14 ; Mystical Pine Forest (status: finalized)

District 11 Male - pending ; QueenOfCas (status: reserved)

District 11 Female - pending ; PisuLuckee (status: reserved)

District 12 Male - Roopertutino (Rooper), 18 ; ghostleon (status: finalized)

District 12 Female - Aryanna (Arya) Golding, 16 ; xQueen-Of-Applesx (status: partial submission)

Author's Note: Thanks for reading! Hopefully all that information is correct and you enjoyed the chapter!