It was hot and muggy in District Two.
Zuran Alminix was not affected.
In fact, he was
actually pretty comfortable, as the butler was following him around
with a fan. Since he didn't have to worry about the heat making him
shiny and ugly, his thoughts turned to his favorite (and only)
subject: himself.
"I. Am. So. Hot!"
The thing was, everyone else in District Two thought so, too. Most of the girls would melt into blubbering puddles at a mere glance from him, and most of the boys hated the very marrow of his bones.
Of course, he wasn't aware anyone could hate him. After all, he was hot. Everyone should adore him. Everyone should kiss the ground he walked on. After all, they were inferior to his hotness, weren't they? Father provided everything for him, indulging every little whim of his, and they didn't have anyone for them, did they?
With a satisfied smirk, he strutted to his designated area. There was an audible sigh as he passed the crowd, and he could see a couple of girls faint out of the corner of his eye.
"Oh, yeah! Swoon for me, ladies! You know you want me!" He flashed a dazzling white grin in everyone's general direction, and a few more girls fainted. If he had enough brain cells to process it, he would've discerned about fifty sets of eyes burning into his back as he sat down on his specially provided bench. He guzzled down his lightly sweetened ice tea, argued with the butler, flexed his muscles at another pack of girls, and mainly chilled out until, as if far off…
"…and the boy tribute for District Two is…"
Zuran had his eyes closed, not having a care in the world what the silly spokesperson was going to say next.
"ZURAN ALMATRIX!"
Zuran grinned. Yay! His name! Another chance to rip off his shirt! He stood up slowly and turned his head.
"Ye-e-e-e-e-s?" he said, still slower, in order to preserve the drama of the moment. He then brought his head up toward the sky and his hands to the center of the shirt, and pulled hard.
"RIP!"
Most of the girls looked like they had died and gone to heaven, either metaphorically, through their ecstatic and awed expressions, or literally, through their prone positions on the ground. The boys were disgusted and turned their heads.
"No, no, no, NO!" The spokesperson looked flustered. "I only need you to come up to the platform! Now, please!"
Zuran frowned. Didn't this lady know whom she was talking to? He stalked up to platform, pouting.
Whoever she was, she certainly knew how to ruin a good time. After all, wasn't he the star of the show?
Wasn't he the star of these silly Hunger Games?