Hey everyone, Paradigm of Writing here with Chapter 12 of the Gamemaker's Plan Part II: The Victors Assault. Today we have the not so very suspenseful chapter titled The Volunteer. Last time, Jonathan met Bailey in the woods to make amends for their fight so many months ago until it turned somewhat romantic and the last shreds of 'humanity' for both of them were torn away as the two fell in love. Fast forward to a week later and its time for the 100th Hunger Games, our 4th Quarter Quell. I am having a blast writing this story and I hope you all enjoy reading it (least those that are reading it). I'm hoping for a 4k or more with this chapter, but we'll just have to wait and see, won't we? Enjoy Chapter 12: The Volunteer!
Today is the day. August 15th. Reaping day. Time to die. I'm just so excited to lose my head! In all honesty, after what transpired last weekend between Bailey and I... heh, our chemistry was something magical. The other victors wouldn't know what they'd be in for. I wasn't very good at keeping secrets, so the moment I got home, I spilled everything out to Lucas on our kiss and the whole steamy situation.
He chuckled at me, saying I was head over heels in love for the second time, as if Katie wasn't true love. "You're one loose nut." he said, before wiping down the counter.
Now, a week later, I am sitting on my damn bed, reaping is only an hour away... I haven't even showered because now my confidence has risen and I know I can do anything when I clearly cannot. The troublesome virtues of a victor, thanks to what Henry taught me.
Speaking of the old bastard, though he was hardly aging, my mentor was currently leaned up against the windowsill of our front door window, eating an apple. I yawned, moving a hand through my messy hair. He took a bite of the fruit, before eyeing me cockily. "Morning sunshine." Henry winked.
"Yeah, screw you too." I muttered.
"Way to be festive."
"Hard to be festive when I'm getting picked to go back into the games in an hour."
"It can't be that bad. You have your lady friend with you." my mentor grinned cheekily, made sure to accentuate lady and friend.
"Henry." I scolded.
Then again, the man wasn't wrong. I just didn't want to admit it. I was locked up in an arena with a person I was familiar with, it couldn't get any worse. Not to throw any shade on Katie or her life or her death, but I had to get know my district partner. In the midst of few friends and many strangers, it was nice having someone in my backyard that I actually knew instead of having to chisel away at some outer exterior to then only know that person for a little while before they're cut away. Much easier having someone you know and love with you in the middle of a fight to your death on live television. Odd way of looking at it, but it works. Ask any other victor.
Besides, we were both skilled archers. I have little doubt in my mind that the tributes, other than the Careers, haven't touched weapons in a few to many years since they've won, despite a few occasional exceptions. Bailey and I have been working in the woods and around targets our entire lives. The people rooting for us here in Twelve would know that, and only them. It wasn't like Lucas could hotline call Wyatt and ask him to reveal all this information to the public. Didn't exactly work that way.
"Are you going to break down and cry?"
"No." I said.
"Not even shed a single tear?"
"What's wrong with you?"
"Just getting to know you better." Henry held his hands up in innocence.
"You already know me well enough," I retorted. "Now you're just being a charismatic asshole. Charismatic sure, but a full fledged ass. It's not needed. Life already sucks as it is, and when you're a victor, that hardship is expected to go away and instead be replaced by something just as worse. But, no, I am forced to relive the same pain I've felt for a whole year. You don't have to! You are spared, because Lee actually likes you. I want you in my shoes, just so I can stand there and have you stand here to laugh at you in the face!"
Henry locked his jaw. "Jonathan, listen to me. Sometimes making unnecessary and awful jokes acts me as reciprocating for what I've lost myself. The virtue-"
"Do not give me that 'virtue of a victor' bullshit. I excused you from that earlier, months ago! When you were drinking and acting all stupid in front of my family. Right now, you see me as an opportunity to get some higher ground and to feel better about something that's eating you up. By making me feel awful, you'll feel great. You'll sit down in the Capitol, behind a glossed silver screen monitor watching me and my best friend fight for our lives in a ring of those who've done it before. You don't deserve my sympathy."
"I-"
"I said you don't deserve it!" I roared, punching Henry in the jaw. Fist collided with cheek, and I heard a bone snap somewhere in one of our bodies. I don't care if I had a broken knuckle. Henry Kraving, egotistical ass... mentor of four Hunger Games, has a victor under his best... stereotyped asshole. Works like a key into a lock- he's the perfect one for that.
There was a loud commotion upstairs, and the thundering of footsteps. Lucas appeared at the head of the stairs, blonde hair combed nice and neat, buttoned up shirt... the boy looked as if he was being shipped off rather than I, someone who had yet to do his hair lest shower. He must've heard me yelling, and the abrupt outburst would be a cause for finding out what's wrong.
"Everything okay?" Lucas asked.
"Totally fine." I rolled my eyes, sarcastically.
Henry used a towel from the kitchen counter to press up against his jaw. He was bleeding, but I don't care. Last I checked, my mentor didn't even kill anyone in his games. He didn't know what bloodshed even was. Serves him right. "No. I was- I danced with fire and got burned." Henry admitted.
My brother raised an eyebrow, not getting the expression. "You literally danced with fire? It's an inanimate object. It can't move."
"Just an expression." my mentor with a bruised jaw waved his hand.
The anger in my veins dulled, and a restoring calm resonated over my body. "I should help you with that bruise," I babbled, reaching for the sink. "My rashness caused that. Caught up in my emotions."
"Jonathan, you don't need to do that for me. I said things I shouldn't have said."
"Which is true," I nodded. "But I stepped out of line as well."
"Go take a walk," Henry suggested. "No one is going to care that you look like shit. It's a reaping for Panem's sake. And everyone watching already knows that you're the male tribute so there's no need to dress up. Whenever I'm angry or about to lose my mind, I go for a walk. I ask someone close with me to join, so there's an even calmer presence around me. Get some fresh air. Invite Lucas to join."
I took a moment to consider this. Whenever Henry gave me advice, it often helped me. Whenever I neglected the help... I regretted it later. Let's see... he told me not to go for the Cornucopia. Went instead to claim my bow and nearly died twice, thanks to Arman and Lone. Rejected Katie at Interviews, she died. He made me speak with Brian Caldwell and soon turned out that he was referring to my Guardians position. Henry liked the idea of allies which I followed reluctantly, which required all of them to die so I could be saved. Following my mentor's advice didn't seem too bad.
"Sure," I agreed. "A walk sounds good," I nodded my head at Lucas. "Want to come?"
"I was actually going to offer you the same thing, before all the yelling and fighting took place," Lucas admitted. "Now that there's no chance of you not doing so, it works out."
"Um... okay? We can't be out long. Reaping is at high noon, and I want to arrive there on time or otherwise Georgia will throw a hissy fit. Henry, be punctual."
"When am I not?" Henry was scouring our fridge, when he found the bottle of bourbon that my mother used to cook Bananas Foster, a desert she only makes on New Years. Seeing that I was to be thrown in an arena and decidedly may never come back, she gave it to me one last time as a sweet memory of home.
"You're never there," Lucas joined in the conversation, bouncing down the stairs. "Like, ever. Late to the announcement of the Quell. Eden's grand opening of the weapons shop. My mother's birthday... we can continue counting."
"When did you get so observant?" I asked.
"A long time ago." my brother heartily replied.
I threw the front door open, waving goodbye to Henry although it was still gold to know that my fist could cause a bruise. I won't go there and say that I am fist fighter, but then again... I'm not a sword fighter either. I'm an archer. Lucas hopped out after me, into the warm August air. District 12 was beautiful this time of year, on the surge of autumn next month in September. It was the only time every year when the black soot soil of the ground was a tad bit more colorful when sunburst and cardinal leaves fell from the sparse trees above.
We walked in silence like Henry said, allowing myself to absorb the calmness exuding from my brother. It didn't last long though, as Lucas had a mouthful to say. My brother scuffled his shoe against the concrete. "Will you promise me this one thing while you're in the arena?"
"What would that be?"
"Don't get sidetracked by Bailey." he breathed.
"What are you exactly entailing?"
"You told me about what happened last weekend at the cabin. The heavy make out session. Hard pressed to believe you don't know what I'm talking about," Lucas rolled his eyes. "I understand that you know her and feel more comfortable with Bailey than any other girl in this district, but that at the same time can be worrisome because you'll be constantly worrying about her and not yourself. It's where the last games fell flat."
"How exactly did this happen?" I questioned, raising an eyebrow. My brother's sudden way of telling me how to run my emotions wasn't exactly how I planned this walk on turning out.
"All your allies died. You kept adding more and more baggage to yourself. Katie liked you, then you promptly rejected her right off the bat. Slowly and surely I watched my brother crawl back to his emotions. You let them run you and not logic. Colby died in a manner of distress, Rachel died in a manner of distress. The games are run by emotional spikes, and you need to control them!"
"What makes you think your words are the gospel?"
"I'm not saying that!"
"Sounds like it." I snorted.
"I'm just asking that you look out for yourself," Lucas said this next statement firmly and slowly, as if expecting me to go off the hinges or something. "If that means you watch over the allies you manage to get, then so be it. But, where those games last year tormented you? They can't win again. You came home from the arena and were a changed man."
"Everyone that goes into the games becomes a changed person, stupid."
"Not in that way. Haunted memories is expected, that's a form of PTSD. You were worried over everything, never smiled... only muttered Katie's name in your sleep. My brother was different and I hated it. I hated it! You never once stopped to see how the rest of us were doing. That's how you and Bailey fell apart. You were too worried about yourself to even focus, for a single moment, on someone else. Someone who meant more to you than just a rival in a dome being looked at for entertainment. It was sickening, Jonathan!"
"Do not stand there and act like a God! Because you're not!" I screamed. What is it with my family and friends thinking they know how to run me and my life? Newsflash people, the world doesn't run like that. Never has. Never will. I am not going to be that test subject, Panem's little guinea pig to just screw around. That shit was awful.
"I never said I wanted to be like that..." Lucas whispered. "I'm only trying to help."
"For the last time, Lucas Ellsworth Crimson, I don't need your help." I hissed, pushing my brother, storming off away from him. Today was not the day to mess with me or my head. I was sick of the crap, and those who felt the need to get in my way and try to organize it all... they'd get another thing coming. I am Jonathan Crimson, and I run my life. No one else. And that's final.
Damn shame no one else could get it through their numbskull heads.
Noon rolled around, and it seemed as though the entire district showed up to wave Bailey and I goodbye. Not that the crying hurt my heart or anything. It destroyed it. There were so much tears, constant hugs and good lucks, and I love you being spread everywhere. My district didn't think we'd come back. How cold and heartless must some people be?
Georgia was waiting for us, and I could see the real lady that was our escort for the first time behind all the makeup, all the glitz and glamour nearly every Capitol citizen chose to use as their cover up, to hide from what really made the world run. Her hair was up in a bun, and the natural color of it was the color of a roaring fire, auburn red, with a spicy aftertaste. All she had clinging to her body was a low cut dress, one I'd expect to see Bailey wearing. I gave her a hug when we got close enough for contact.
"I wouldn't want anyone else reading my name off of that card other than you." I whispered, squeezing her tightly.
"President Lee butchered the pronunciation, didn't he?" she jokingly whispered back. The two of us broke. Based on where the sun in the sky was, it meant five minutes before show time and I would be thrown upwards into the sky for the rest of Panem to laugh at, alongside my trusty female district partner. Bailey stood away from us awkwardly, only mustering a half hearted wave. Georgia was having none of it, instead throwing herself at my best friend.
All poor Bailey could do was try and withstand the oncoming Capitolite. "Um... thank you?"
"You don't deserve this," Georgia said fiercely. "None of you do."
"Thanks," I nodded. My feet shuffled awkwardly. "Could you go and give us a moment, please?"
The District 12 escort seemed somewhat offended, but I understood why, given her nature. Georgia smiled, before wiping away tears from her eyes. When it was just the two of us, Bailey leaned in near my ear so I could only hear her. "I feel like I'm at a funeral."
"Get used to it. Let me see you. Got to give the final judgment on whether or not Rose, my stylist will approve."
"I can tell you love this part of the experience."
"Hate it, actually." I shrugged. Bailey stepped back, letting me see her up close. She looked absolutely stunning. A shame that something so beautiful could be destroyed in a matter of seconds later on. Her black hair was loose and flowing down, to the small of her back. Radiant navy eye shadow circled her eyes, light glitter specks at the far edges. She wore a simple dress, the color of a daisy. I would be proud to call Bailey my best friend, proud to even say I loved her.
"Good enough?" she asked.
"More than what was required of you. It looks great."
She blushed. "Th- thank you."
"Lucas promised me to do something silly while we're in the arena. I think my brother has promptly lost his mind."
"What- what did he ask of you?"
"To stop worrying about everyone else while I'm in the arena. Not to care about you. It's where I somewhat messed up last time." I said.
"You-" Bailey started, when the booming of a microphone cut her off.
Our attention diverted to Georgia, who was standing on the middle of the Justice Building stage. There were no reaping bowls this time, just two cards clutched in her hands, decorated by a fancy gold manuscript. I wanted to tear those cards into a million bits and pieces, a good fit of rage needed to be exerted once in awhile. On stage, Georgia moved her lips into a grim smile. "Good afternoon, ladies and gentleman of District 12. I am your escort like usual, Georgia Heffer. Today is the reaping for District 12 in the 4th Quarter Quell, or the 100th Hunger Games."
"I think we all know that..." Bailey whispered to me.
I took a look around the square, to see that people had intermingled between us. Henry, my mother, Lucas, Eden... my family and friends were all there. Noticed that Henry still had that sorry bruise on his face from my punch. That man still deserved it no matter how much sympathy I felt!
"Now, for these games... the president has already selected these tributes." Georgia said slowly.
There was a low murmur in the crowd. Lucas made his comment audible. "You awful people are taking my brother away from me... again."
My heart warmed, only interrupted by Georgia saying my name over the microphone. "Mr. Jonathan Crimson has been selected to participate in these games as the male representative between the two male victors of your district. Mr. Crimson, please join me."
I turned my head, not necessarily expecting to come swinging out of the gate so quickly. Such was life I suppose. Instead of walking up the left side of the stage, which I was closer to, I made my way to the right, passing by Bailey with an affirmative squeeze on the wrist. I hugged Lucas, my mother, and Eden before then walking up the granite steps again. Slowly. Surely. Nervously. Such was old times, right? I stood side by side with Georgia, but she didn't ask me my name, nor did she ask me anything unimportant.
"Just like old times." I whispered.
Georgia nodded solemnly, and I could see clear reflective tears threatening to spill down her cheeks. For being the least interactive person I have on my prep team, she sure was feeling the full on impact which made me even more sad. "Now, for our female tribute," my escort started. "District 12 is a special case. There is no female victor, but these games were not allowed to have only twenty five fighters. It wouldn't be right. So, President Lee made an executive decision to select a girl between the ages of twelve to eighteen to fill this spot."
"Yeah, my friend Bailey Resel. That son of a bitch." I thought angrily.
"Before I say the name of this young lady, something must be realized," Georgia looked as if she wanted to pass out. "Lee gave me the right away to allow this. Any male or female in the age range may volunteer for this young girl if they wish. She's not deadlocked into the position."
My read rose at this. "Are you serious?" I whispered, although Georgia couldn't hear me.
"May a Miss Bailey Resel please join Mr. Crimson on stage?" she asked.
Bailey began to say her goodbyes, and that was when time slowed down. A hand shot in the air, the person had to have been short as I could barely see the person. A proud, and loud voice rung out. "I volunteer!"
Bailey whirled her head around, looking lost, wondering who could have possibly done something so stupid for her." She got pushed by someone I couldn't see. I, on stage, frowned. That voice sounded male. That was when I saw.
My brother, Lucas, stepped confidently out of the crowd marching up to meet Georgia and I. His eyes were set, crossed and angry. The gears inside his mind were turning. He stopped halfway down. "I volunteer!" he shouted again.
I then promptly felt my knees gave away, as I tumbled to the stage floor. Hitting my head hard against the stone, I was consumed by black.
Okay, and be honest with me, based on the summary of this story and the chapter title, who did not expect that to be coming? I'm not really good at suspense I think... but maybe I am. Have no clue. No clue. Thanks for reading this chapter guys, and now it's time to move onto the 4th Quarter Quell, something I'm really stoked to get started as I now can have a whole more variety of characters to use. Time to see Kerry and Brian again, guys! Can't wait! Love you all so much, and I cannot wait to post Chapter 13: Humiliation and Retaliation sometime in the next two weeks. Have an amazing New Year's guys, and see you in 2016. Love you all!
~ Paradigm
