Chapter Four
Jolene, Dolly Parton (Julian)
Blaine woke to a slight noise and sat up, rubbing his eyes. It was still dark. The noise was
Logan, sleep talking. Blaine was used to it, but tonight was different. It was a name. And it wasn't
Blaine's, like it had been all the nights before. It was Julian's.
Blaine listened for a moment, before standing and leaving the room. He walked into the
bathroom and splashed cold water into his face. His palm hit the counter several names, as he
repeated Julian's name.
"Jolene (Julian)"
Julian, Julian, Julian, Julian
I'm begging of you please don't take my man
Julian, Julian, Julian, Julian
Please don't take him just because you can
Your beauty is beyond compare
With darkened locks of wavy hair
With pale white skin and eyes of a deep blue
Your smile is like a breath of spring
Your voice is soft like summer rain
And I cannot compete with you, Julian
He talks about you in his sleep
There's nothing I can do to keep
From crying when he calls your name, Julian
And I can easily understand
How you could easily take my man
But you don't know what he means to me, Julian
Julian, Julian, Julian, Julian
I'm begging of you please don't take my man
Julian, Julian, Julian, Julian
Please don't take him just because you can
You could have your choice of men
But I could never love again
He's the only one for me, Julian
I had to have this talk with you
My happiness depends on you
And whatever you decide to do, Julian
Julian, Julian, Julian, Julian
I'm begging of you please don't take my man
Julian, Julian, Julian, Julian
Please don't take him even though you can
Blaine's fist hit the counter and he groaned in despair. His one only comfort was slowly
being pulled from him. He'd let logan go though, even if he didn't want to let Logan go. If Logan
came back to him, then they were meant to be.
Shane grew red as he saw Reed in the hallway. Reed was heading for his ratings. He
looked terrified and was shaking. When Reed passed, Shane took his arm. Reed turned back.
"You're going to do fine," Shane whispered reassuringly. Reed was silent. "It will be
alright, I promise."
"How do you know?" Reed asked in a very small voice.
"Because you're strong."
"Physically?"
Shane shook his head and rested a hand on Reed's cheek. "Mentally."
"But they don't care about mental strength, Shane!" Reed pulled away in his ranting. He
was speaking with his hands now. "I don't have anything! I don't have a chance! Plus my hair will
stand out anywhere! It's this bright, hideous color!" He was tugging at it. Shane was just smiling.
"And above all that-"
"It's what's underneath your skin that they should be looking at." Shane said before he
could stop himself. "It's inside, if they knew you, that they would be grading you on. Not on your
physical abilities."
"What?" Reed asked.
"Why don't you know you're so pretty that it hurts?"
"What?" Reed repeated. "Shane, I-I-"
"You should go."
Reed stood on his tippy-toes and pulled Shane's face to his. His lips crashed into Shane's
and Shane stood in a shock for a moment, before pulling Reed closer to him.
"Shane!" a sharp voice hissed. Footsteps echoed down the hall. Shane pulled back and
turned to look at Kurt. "Go get ready. You're up next."
"But-"
"Now," Kurt interrupted.
Shane sighed and looked back at Reed. He kissed Reed again, and then Kurt seized
his arm and dragged him down the hall. "Watch it player, you don't know who else could have
been watching," Kurt whispered with a small smile. "Now that you've got that out of the way, you
can focus for the slight moment it takes to get rated, alright? Does that sound doable?"
Shane nodded with a smile, his eyes dazed. Kurt just laughed.
"Come on, Brad Pitt, let's get you ready for your audition."
"Maybe I don't care who is watching." Shane smiled back.
"Well, you should," Kurt sighed. "Will you wake up for just a few minutes?"
"Yeah, yeah, I think I can." Shane nodded, his face becoming serious. But the smile
quickly spread back to his lips. "Nope." He laughed.
"You're acting like a giddy school girl."
"I'm a very happy school girl," Shane said, walking down the hall. Kurt rolled his eyes and
started after the mindless boy to make sure that he didn't hurt himself.
Reed slowly stepped into the training room that was now empty. He looked around and
saw all the gamers in a corner, where a table of food was, surrounded by a mirrored wall. They
were all talking, but fell silent when they spotted the glass cup.
Reed took a deep breath, glancing around all of the things that were in the room. He
couldn't lift anything, and he couldn't really paint. He wasn't that artistic.
When he spotted several stand in dummies, he walked over to them, stumbling over his
untied shoe. He glanced down at it, and wore a nervous smile. He picked up one of the dummies
and basically dragged it to the middle of the room.
By this time, his mind was scrambling desperately for a thought of what to do. What had
he seen Karofsky doing in their room? Reed stepped over to the weapons table and pulled a knife
to him. How hard could it be, right?
He then propped up the dummy and stood a good 20 paces away. He closed his eyes and
took a deep breath, just as he had seen his fellow tribute do. As soon as he opened his eyes, he
threw the knife.
His heart began racing as he waited for the result of his possible fail of a rating. He
couldn't help but stare as the knife went straight into the dummy's head. That was more than
beginner's luck. Reed knew this.
He looked back at the gamers and saw them giving him curious looks. He wasn't sure how
he had done it himself. He slowly left the room and as soon as the door closed behind him, a
smile grew over his lips.
"What?" Shane asked, as he stood from the waiting bench.
"Yes!" Reed said, spinning around in a circle. His foot landed on the shoelace, and Shane
caught him as he fell.
"What did you do?"
"I'll tell you later," Reed replied. "Good luck."
Shane let go of Reed and Reed left down the hall.
Shane wore a questioning look, but slowly stepped into the room. He saw the same set up
that Reed had. He glanced around and looked for what he could do. He had a good idea, but he
wasn't truly sure if it would get him noticed, or if it was only cliche.
Shane stepped over to the gun rack, and pulled out a sniper rifle. He loaded it, and then
set it in the back of the room. He then went to the other side of the room and pulled out an eraser,
and placed it onto a table.
He then went back to his gun, and set up a tripod. He took aim, and then a deep, calming
breath. He slowed his heart, so that it wasn't pounding in his ears. He pulled the trigger and the
small dot that had been the eraser was gone.
Shane stood back, feeling proud of himself. He left the room without a word. He'd never
tell Kurt that his dad had taught him how to sharp shoot when the revolution happened, just in
case Shane had to keep himself safe. He still needed Kurt, because there was no telling if there
would be any guns in the arena. There never had been before, so he wouldn't get his hopes up.
"How did you do?" Kurt asked as Shane entered the hall.
Shane shrugged. "I don't think it matters."
"Alright..." Kurt said, his eyebrows furrowed. He stepped into the room, and cracked his
knuckles. He quickly and confidently snatched up a bow and arrow. His mentor's words repeated
in his head: Play it low, that way the other tributes underestimate you.
Kurt had thought this through for many hours, and had decided that his trainer was correct.
Therefore, he picked the skill that he had yet to form. He wasn't any good at shooting an arrow. A
gun he had no problem with, and a knife was cake. He could set up a bomb very easily and
creating a homemade weapon with an object that was given him was something that he was
gifted at.
When his mother had died in the revolution, his dad remarried, and then had grown sick
and passed. When Finn, his step-brother had died, he left Carole, his step-mother, so that she
could go back with her family.
He then lived on his own, and learned how to live off of basically anything that he could
get his hands on. He had also grown immune to most poisons, due to being exposed to them, and
having eaten them on the scraps that he would find. It wasn't the best lifestyle, but it was about
the only life that Kurt knew.
Kurt pulled back the arrow and let it fly, without much of a second thought. It hit the outer
circle of the target and he rested the bow back on the table, then left the room without giving a
second look at the gamers that had been watching in a stunned silence.
As he stepped into the hall, he passed Karofsky, who shot him a dark look. Kurt made no
notice of it, and continued down the hall to his room, where he could rest. Karofsky then entered
the room. He went straight for a knife and grabbed several of them in one hand. Maybe about five
of them. He then turned to the target that had Kurt's arrow removed from it, and threw all of the
knives. He just smirked as they all hit the red center, and left the room with a cocky spring in his
step.
The twins stared after him. Even turned to Ethan and whispered: "Do you think that we
could both go in there together, and seeing that we're twins would be enough for them?"
Ethan laughed. "I don't know. We sure pissed Karofsky off though. Way off."
"You were the one that hid his knife."
"I know!" Ethan said proudly, standing and heading for the door. "I bet you that when you
enter, they'll ask if you had just been in there."
"I'll play along. You know how I love to mess with people," Evan said with a grin.
Ethan laughed, stepping into the room. He went to a small table and sat, pulling several
tools to him. He worked for a while and then smiled at his work. He poured in some black powder
and then set the wick. He stood and jogged away, turning. There was a blasting and black lace
red fire filled the sky, taking the table with it.
Several of the other tables tipped over, their continence spilling over the floor. Every one
of the gamers had jumped and turned to look at what Ethan had done. Ethan turned and left the
room.
"You're up bro," he laughed.
"I could hear that out here."
"Good," Ethan said.
Evan stood and walked into the room. He looked over the mess that Ethan had created and
smiled with a chuckle. He sighed, trying to come up with something that had not already been
done.
He stepped up to a spear. He then turned and saw the hand rings that hung from the
ceiling that you could use for pull ups. He aimed and threw the spear to them. It went through
both holes and then hit the head of a man in a poster that was on the wall. Evan guessed that it
was the prime minister, or something like that. Who else would be on the poster?
Evan turned and caught the sight of a shocked face, and then turned back to look at the
poster. He smiled to himself. It was the head gamer. This ought to be good, he thought as he left
the room.
Next up was Wes. He walked into the room with an unsure look of what to do.
Wes sighed, praying that an idea would come to him. He moved over to the bow and
arrow, picking them up. He lifted the bow to eye level and fitted the arrow to it. He ran his fingers
over the feathers, then gripped the string with three fingers, pulling back to his ear.
He released the string, keeping his hand by his ear. He quickly grabbed another arrow and
shot it. The first hit the center, dead on. The second created a terrible shriek as it collided with the
first one, and split it in half.
With that, Wes left, high fiving David on the way out. David entered the room and glanced
at the table that was in the corner with all of the gamers. Most of them were too intent with their
meal to focus on him, and that made David slightly more comfortable, but at the same time he felt
like they were being rude. This was his life on the line, and they didn't care.
David picked up a dart gun and a slight smile came to his face. He slid in a dart and
cocked the gun. He then moved over to a cage of live birds that were far too nice for game, but he
didn't care.
He opened the cage and pulled out a small yellow bird. It flew around the room, chirping
as David closed the cage. He turned and lifted the gun, placing the butt to his shoulder. He
watched the bird carefully as it flew. There was a deafening crack as he pulled the trigger.
Someone screamed and there was the clatter and dings of glasses falling. The small bird
had landed on a lady's plate, the dart in its head. A nice, clean shot.
David placed the gun back down and left the room, breathing heavily. He didn't
acknowledge Dwight as he passed.
Dwight walked into the room. He went straight for the cross bow. He had learned to shoot
these when he was only three. His grandfather had taught him, because he also believed in the
paranormal.
Dwight blindfolded himself and then grabbed the cross bow. At this a good percent of the
gamers took cover, behind the table.
Dwight lifted it and pulled the release. There was a whoosh from the arrow. Dwight
reloaded and turned, shooting in a different direction. He did this several more the times, before
lowering his weapon and untying the blindfold. One arrow as in each of the five targets, ded
center. Dwight ran a hand through his dark, messy hair and left the room. He gave a deep exhale.
"Will they understand that I have a photographic memory and I'm not just insane?" he
asked Julian, who waited for his turn.
Julian shrugged. "Who knows." He stood and and paused when he spotted Logan and
Blaine coming down the hall. Julian's chest grew warm and tight at the sight of Logan's green
eyes.
"I'll see you Julian," Dwight muttered, starting down the hall. He tried to stay as far away
from Logan as he could, as they passed.
"Are you up next?" Logan asked Julian.
"Yep." Julian nodded.
Blaine was looking at the walls, pretending to be interested in the floral patterned
wallpaper.
"Good luck," Logan smiled.
Julian nodded, heading into the room. Julian went to one of the unharmed tables and
looked over several glass bottles. He picked one up that he knew very well. It was a toxin refined
from the nectar of rhododendron ponticum, meaning that it had the ability to induce an apparently
mortal paralysis.
He took a deep breath and drank it. Before he blacked out, he could see some of the
gamers race forward. Julian fell to the ground, the vile shattering. One of the gamers took his
pulse, but found nothing.
"He doesn't have a pulse, someone get help. We have a suicide."
The gamers were scrambling for help. By the time the medics got there, Julian was ice
cold and his body was paler than normal. One of the medics took his pulse and then was about to
start CPR, when Julian began breathing again. He sat up with a hand to his head, feeling sick and
dizzy.
"Temporary death," he muttered. "Cool, huh?" He stood and walked out of the room,
ignoring the open mouthed gazes that followed him. "You're up pretty boy," Julian said, kicking
Blaine's foot. Blaine stood and left the hall. Julian sat beside Logan, resting his head between his
knees.
"What happened?" Logan asked.
"I drank temporary death, but it's a killer on the headaches afterwards," Julian moaned.
"You can make temporary death?" Logan questioned with a shocked and amazed tone.
"How?"
"Family secret. sorry." He took a sharp inhale through his teeth and it hissed.
"Are you ok?" Logan placed his hand on Julian's shoulder. Julian shook his head. "Can I
help?"
"No. I just have to let it subside. I'll be alright."
"Are you sure? I can get you water and maybe some-"
"Really, Logan." Julian sat up with a pained smile. "I'm alright." Julian took Logan's hand
and gave it a light squeeze. Julian stood and then left down the hall. Logan stood as well.
"Julian?"
Julian turned back with an inquiring look.
"Is there any way that..." Logan trailed off. He shouldn't be asking this. It would ruin
everything. "Is there anyway that I could see you tonight? It's our last night and I'm not sure...
well..."
"Meet me here 15 minutes before dinner." Julian smiled as he started back down the hall.
Logan sighed and sat back down, not noticing that Blaine still stood in the doorway.
Blaine blinked several times before fully entering the training room.
Logan was gone. Blaine knew this. Blaine had lost him. He didn't know that what Logan
wanted with Julian would hurt him this much. Blaine stood still, in the middle of the room, his
ears ringing and his head pounding. His eyes grew hot with tears and he stepped over to the wall
that was a mirror, that was behind the gamers' table.
He took a heavy breath, feeling his chest fill with a sickening cold. He looked into the
mirror and stared for a moment. He was pathetic. He was crying. Tears ran down his cheeks.
Finally, he couldn't stand his reflection any longer. He pulled back his fist and let it fly into the
mirror. It collided and there was a cracking that spread like a spider's web, before the whole
mirror fell to the ground in a crashing, tinkling, shattering pile.
Blaine ignored the blood that was dripping to the ground from his hand, due to it being
cut. He left the room, a trail of blood following him. He walked out into the hall and Logan stood.
"Bla-"
Blaine held up his blood soaked hand for silence and continued down the hall at a fast
walk. Logan stared after him, unsure of what to think.
"Blaine!" Logan raced after him and down the hall. He reached Blaine and turned Blaine
to look at him. "Blaine, what's wrong? What happened? What did you do to your hand?"
"Just..." Blaine had a hard time not breaking down. And it wasn't from the burning pain
that was in his hand. "I want to go home." He fell against Logan, crying. Logan wrapped his arms
around Blaine, hugging him tightly. "Please, let me go home!"
Logan was silent, not knowing what to say. His hand ran over Blaine's hair. Blaine pulled
back and wiped a tear from his cheek.
"Thanks Logan," he whispered. "You'll always be there for me."
"Yeah," Logan nodded, running his hand guiltily through his blonde hair.
"Good luck." Blaine stood on his tippy-toes and kissed Logan softly. He pulled back. "I've
got to go get this looked at."
"I'll come and see you when I'm done."
Blaine nodded and moved down the hall. Logan took a pained breath and made his way
into the training room. He got a good look around. One of the walls was completely black and
scorched from fire. By the gamer's table was some shattered glass of some sort. Several of the
supplies tables were knocked over, and there were bullet and arrow holes everywhere.
He moved over to the weapons rack and looked over his choices. He picked up the ax. It
felt familiar in his hands. He immediately turned to face a metal table that held many other
weapons. He raised the ax, and swung it down as hard as he could. He'd always been pretty
strong, and he hoped that when the table split, that this would make an impression. Especially to
Lafferty. He just wanted to prove to her that he wasn't a Barbie, and getting a high score would
prove that.
Logan stopped when he saw Julian at the end of the hall. Julian walked over to Logan
with a slight smile.
"What was it that you wanted to talk about?" Julian asked.
Logan sighed. "I originally came to tell you that I thought that you were a wonderful
person, and that I loved you, but..." Logan trailed off. "I can't hurt Blaine like that."
"I understand," Julian nodded.
Blaine looked down the hallway to make sure that nobody was there, then started down it,
to find Logan and Julian. He stopped at voices. The first to speak belonged to Julian.
"Just kiss me," he said.
There wasn't an answer, and Blaine glanced around the corner to see Logan kissing
Julian. Blaine shrunk back behind the wall, and slid to the floor. His heart felt like it was on fire,
and he couldn't breath.
After a moment, he stood and went back to his room, falling onto his bed, crying.
"Shane, where's Blaine?" Logan whispered when everyone had started eating. Shane
shrugged, stuffing his mouth full of the mash potatoes and gravy. Logan gave a slightly worried
look, and stared at his food.
"Attention!" Bundy called standing up after several long moments. Even though there was
not chatter among the tributes, there was a silence that quickly filled the room. "Now we will
watch the ratings. We all know that the ratings are out of twelve and those with the highest, have
a greater percentage of surviving in the game."
The lights were dimmed and a large projector screen was lowered and an image flashed
onto it. Lintz was laughing. "Ok, I now have the ratings. They look very good for the most part. To
shake things up, we'll start with district six." He ruffled the papers that he held.
Logan glanced over at Julian, who had his eyes focused on the table cloth.
"Dwight Houston, an eight out of twelve, well done. Julian Larson, ten."
Logan watched for Julian's reaction, but he didn't even blink.
"District five... Logan Wright, a seven out of twelve, not bad, not bad at all. Blaine
Anderson, a seven also. Let's see... District four, Shane Anderson, a nine. Kurt Hummel..." Lintz
paused, looking at the paper in his hands for a moment, before uttering a "Two."
Everyone in the room looked over at Kurt with shocked expressions. Logan had trouble
taking his eyes from the brown haired teen, who had a slight smile on his face. Logan tore his
eyes from Kurt as Lintz started talking again.
"District three, Wesley Hughes, a nine. Umm... David Sullivan, seven. District two... Evan
Brightman had received an eight. His twin, Ethan has gotten himself a seven. And now district
one... Karofsky, scored an eight. And ladies and gentlemen, last, but not least... from district one,
Reed van Kamp has been given an eleven out of twelve."
Everyone looked at Reed and he flushed. Shane wore a bright smile and held back a
laugh. Reed looked down at his shoes and smiled to himself.
"I don't know what that little munchkin did, but whatever it was, it had to be good," Lintz
said with a brighter smile than anyone had ever seen it. "Well, those are our scores for our
tributes, may the odds be ever in your favor, and a good night." The lights turned back on and everyone had to blink to have their eyes readjust.