A/N: Hey guys! Thanks for those who're reviewing and giving nice feedback!
I hope you all will enjoy this next chapter, these two tributes aren't very typical!
Thank you to Winter's Writing, TranscendentElvenRanger, goldie031 and luka11303 for your reviews!
Just out of curiosity Liz and I have put up a poll to see who your favorite careers are. Feel free to vote if you want.
~ Anna ;D
Amadora "Amy" Shard, 17
District 5 Female
"Ah... smells wonderful."
I turn away from the stove when I hear the front door close. I smile when I recognize the voice as my twin brother, Alessandro.
"How'd you know I was cooking today, Ali?" I ask with a smile.
He gives me a look and hangs his jacket up on the coatrack.
"You're always cooking." he says, taking the wooden spoon from my hand.
He dips the spoon into the pot of soup then blows on it to cool it down, taking a quick sip. He waits a minute then flicks his gaze to me, grinning. He nods happily and gives the spoon back to me.
"Amazing as always." he says, turning slipping into a chair at the table.
I smile and look back at the soup, stirring it slowly. Alessandro starts talking to me, but my thoughts begin to wander ahead. I'm still deciding if I should volunteer for the Games next year or not.
I mean, yeah I'm partly trained but that year spent in District One with relatives to train, that was a complete fail. Mom should have known that we would get pulled out. As soon as the Peacekeepers found out that we didn't officially move to One to stay there permanently, we were removed from the District.
I have enough training to make it far in the Games but I'm not sure if I could win like Alessandro. He trained almost every single day for a year while I stayed at home most days to practice cooking.
When we got back to Five he volunteered and everyone thought it was because he didn't want to see the death of the young 12 year old boy that was reaped. He lowered the Captiol's expectations and caught the careers off guard. He won by disguising his true skills. I don't know if I'd be able to pull that off.
I really want to pursue my dream of opening a restaurant in Five. God knows we could use one, and I can actually cook something other than cake and bread. Heck, I even have enough money from Alessandro's winnings that I can open one. The thing is, I can't do any of that if I'm dead.
"Amy?" Ali asks louder. "Are you listening?"
I quickly turn back around and lean against the counter.
"Should I volunteer?" I ask, tilting my head.
Ali looks a bit confused then smiles a little. Still, it seems as though he's hiding something from me.
"I mean, that's up to you." he says a bit unsurely. "I thought you wanted to, besides you've been complaining about how overshadowed you feel."
I laugh a little, adjusting my raggedy apron uncomfortably. It's true, I have felt pretty left out ever since Ali won last year. If I do volunteer then I'll be the one in the spotlight. Although I guess I don't care about overshadowing my brother that much. He's still my twin and I love him so why would I want to make him feel overshadowed too?
"I know, I just.." I sigh and fiddle with the string hanging off the apron. "I want to be able to open my restaurant before I risk anything."
Ali nods in understanding and leans back in the chair.
"Yeah, but I'll be one of your mentors." he says. "I can teach you and give you advice."
I smile slightly and shrug.
"Yeah that could work." I say quietly.
Ali tries to return the smile but crosses his arms and slips back down in the chair. I watch him silently for a moment then turn back to the soup. I remember the state Ali was in when he came back from the Games. He tries to forget the way he was the first few weeks; we all do. He was a wreck, hardly ate, almost never slept in fear of terrible nightmares.
I know he tries to shrug it off and make it seem like it's not a big deal, but it is. He wants to tell me to volunteer because he thinks I want to, but at the same time I think he wants to tell me not to. He knows the horrors of the Games, just like all of us. We're not blind like the career districts are, we know the terrible things that happen in the arena. My family just thinks I have a shot at winning.
The delightful smell of the bubbling soup brings me out of my trance. I carefully pull it off the burner and place it on the other side of the small stove, picking up a spoon and a bowl. I pour some of the soup into the bowl then sprinkle some chopped parsley over it to give it a little presentation. Then I turn and set the bowl down in front of Ali, smiling.
"I'll have to think on it." I say.
He shrugs and contentedly sips the soup from the spoon.
"Better think fast, next year is the last year for you to volunteer." he responds quietly. "And it's not like you'll be fresh out of training either."
I roll my eyes and nod, wiping off my hands on the apron and go back to the soup. I know that I won't remember my training as well as Ali did, but that doesn't mean he has to remind me. He's making me nervous. I quickly snatch a bowl of soup and sit heavily in the chair across from him, shoveling the soup into my mouth. Maybe I should just stay in Five. No need for me to volunteer.
On the other hand, if I do I could make more money for the restaurant.
I drop the spoon loudly into the soup then glance up at Ali, giving an exasperated sigh.
"Great, now you've got me stress eating." I huff.
Ali fakes an offended expression then shakes his head.
"Sure, stress eating." he teases.
I throw my spoon at him and we both break into a fit of laugher. Luckily I have an entire year to think through my decision. That means I can forget about it for now and enjoy myself.
I'll make my choice later.
Cassian Azenor, 15
District 5 Male
The furious scribbling of my pen against the paper barely keeps me focused. The kids playing outside and shouting is distracting. I glance up from my paper and make a face. How can they not see that I'm trying to write? Stories like this don't come around often. But I can't go back inside, it's even worse in there. I hate when the teachers give us free time. I hate it but I love it because then I have time to work on the paper.
I glance back down at my notepad and continue writing, trying to block out the shouting kids. I finally get immersed in my writing again and smile. Oh the schools' going to have a field day with this.
That prank some students pulled on one of the teachers was practically sent from heaven. It wasn't exactly mentioned who did it but I had a few guesses, and according to some of the older kids, they might have seen the person responsible for leading the prank. I'm not sure if it's solid proof, but it's a perfect story. I just wrote something about it last week. I think it was published, but anyway. I'm determined to write a follow up, proving that this girl did it.
People will love it.
I smile as I finish up the paragraph, then the sun is suddenly covered, casting a dark shadow on my paper. A newspaper lands on the pavement in front of me and I glance up, leaning on the wall of the school.
"Can I help you?" I ask sharply.
A girl stands over me her arms crossed.
"What the hell is this?" she exclaims, pointing at the paper.
I look down at the paper, recognizing it as one of my stories. I smile, realizing it made the front page. The girl growls and snaps her fingers in front of my face.
"Hello?" she scowls. "What do you think you were doing? "Girl Plots Against Teachers"?"
She looks furious, but I only nod and get to my feet.
"Yep." I say. "What's the problem?"
Her jaw drops and she pulls me back before I can walk away.
"That's a lie!" she shouts. "I never plotted against anyone. That prank was done by some of the older kids, you know that."
I shrug and shake my head.
"I actually don't know that." I respond. "All I know is the current facts."
"Facts? There is nothing factual about that!" she snaps back.
I only offer a small smile and turn to her.
"And?"
She only gapes at me and shakes her head, wanting to say more but I interrupt her.
"Look... a good paper is not about the facts, it's about the story." I explain, picking up my backpack and the paper.
I sling it over my shoulder then shove the newspaper at her.
"And this is a good story."
I quickly turn, leaving the girl behind. She continues to yell at me, but doesn't stop me. This isn't an uncommon occurrence. If I didn't get daily complaints I wouldn't be a famous journalist. Well, famous in my school that is. I was picked to be the lead writer for the school paper for a reason. And it's not because I stuck to the hard facts, it's because I gave them a good story and entertained.
The Capitol does it all the time.
"Cassian!"
A familiar shrill voice stops me in my tracks and I wince, turning slowly. Sure enough, there's Vida Isaak, basically the closest thing I'll ever have to friend since everyone else hates me for the stories I write. She looks more hyper than usual so I quickly turn and pull up the collar of my jacket, walking away quickly.
"Cassiaaaaan!" she shouts again. "Wait for me!"
Before I can get away she practically jumps in front of me, stopping me again. I sigh and stare at her.
"Yes?"
She only grins goofily and fixes her hair.
"So when are you going to write about me in your "Student of the Week" column?" she asks, still trying to adjust her hair. "I read your latest story and it was AWESOME. I can't believe that Bina would do that to poor Mrs. Brites! But you're always writing the truth and giving us a great story, you know everyone loves your articles but whenever I bring you up they say that they don't like you or something, which is crazy because-"
"Thank you Vida!" I practically shout, clinging to the strap of my messenger bag. "But I'm really busy so I need to get home-"
"Oh I know, but are you going to write about me?" she asks again with her unbearable grin.
"Yes, yes." I huff. "I am going to write about you," I say, briskly stepping around her to continue on home.
"When?" she squeaks, leaping in front of me again.
I stop short and close my eyes for a second, taking a deep breath, then I force a smile onto my face.
"You know what, Vida.." I begin, putting an arm around her. "I'll put it in my notes right now, you're going to be reading about yourself in next week's paper."
Vida bounces on her toes as she walks beside me.
"Really?" she gasps. "Really, really?!"
I nod.
"Oh yeah,." I respond slowly. "Front page, I guarantee it."
"Yay! Thank you sooo much!" she laughs. "Oh! Maybe you should write it in your notepad so you don't forget?"
"I won't forget." I laugh awkwardly, trying to keep walking.
She gets in front of me again and grins.
"Just in case?"
I clench my teeth and nod stiffly. "Okay, I'll make a note."
"Now?" she asks quickly.
I frown bitterly, not caring if she catches on to my displeasure. I dig around in my bag, taking out my notepad, then glance up at Vida who mimes writing in a notebook. I blink slowly and give a long, exasperated sigh as I scribble in my notepad, not really writing anything down. I then snap the book shut and give a hasty smile, nodding to her.
"All written down, I won't forget, I'll write about you this weekend and I'll see you tomorrow." I say quickly, then practically run away as Vida tries to talk again.
She's probably the most annoying person to ever exist. That's a story there. I smirk and flip open my notepad, writing the title of Vida's article. "Crazed Girl Stalks Student". I snicker to myself and stuff the notepad back in my bag. I initially wasn't going to write about her but maybe if she sees this article she'll catch on and stop bothering me. I have more important things to write about.
I continue on down the street, my old camera around my neck and sigh deeply, watching the people around me. Some of them I notice are students, hustling by. But they give me a glare as they pass. Or they'll see me from stores and turn away.
Can they get anymore hypocritical? They hate me for writing stories that are maybe a little less than truthful, but then love reading them? My stories are loved not me. But I guess that's the price of being a successful journalist. Maybe...
I glance back down at the ground and step over the cracks in the road, thinking about what next week's story might be. I glance back up when I hear three loud voices coming from a small house on the corner.
My house.
I sigh and hesitate before walking inside. With my triplet sisters arguing again I'll never get anything done at home. Maybe I should just head to the library instead. Before I can change my mind and head to the library, one of my sisters, Azalea rushes out of the house, her hands on her hips.
"Cassian, mom says she's making dinner and she wants you home and not out of the house." she says, flipping hair out of her eyes.
I huff and trudge toward the stairs.
"She does know that I'm working on stuff, right?" I ask half-heartedly.
"Yeah but she doesn't care," she snaps back. "If she did she would read it, but she never does. Neither does dad and you know that."
I roll my eyes and set my bag down on the chair when I walk inside, slamming the door in Azalea's face. I turn back around but Ivy is standing there, crossing her arms. Behind her stands my third sister, Fleur, narrowing her eyes.
"What?" I ask with a scowl.
Fleur shoves Ivy out of the way, waving the school newspaper in front of my face.
"You're lying about people, we read it." she whines in a bratty tone.
"So what?" I ask, sitting down. "It's just the one, trust me I'll go back to writing the truth after this one, I promise."
Ivy growls. "We're telling mom and dad!"
I shake my head and lean on the chair, giving a smile.
"Joke's on you," I hiss. "They don't read my papers anyway."
The triplets exchange glances then burst into laughter. I frown.
"It's just because they're too busy!" I protest, sinking back into the chair.
"Sure... yeah..." Azalea scoffs. "That's why."
I scowl and get up, snatching the school paper out of Fleur's hands.
"Grow up." I growl, stuffing the paper in my bag.
I quickly grab it and shove past my laughing sisters, hurrying into my room. I slam the door loudly and lock it, flopping onto my bed. They don't appreciate journalism. They don't get it.
The laughing eventually dies out and melts into quiet conversation, so I decide it's safe to write. I take out my third and favorite notepad, the one with all my best scoops.
I flip it open and pull out my larger notebook, copying the notes to transform them into a story.
A/N: There they were. What did you think?
Post-Chapter Questions(optional):
Thoughts on Amadora?
Cassian?
How do you think their personalities will effect their experience in the Games?
Do you think Amy will make it far like she thinks?
Do you think Cassian will be able to make any allies?
A/N: Next up is District 6, hopefully we'll be able to get that out soon!
We hope you enjoyed this chapter and don't forget to vote on the poll for your favorite career. ^.^
Bless,
~ Anna ;D
