-June Fisher, 18, District 9-
Connie may not have known it, but she had somewhat, inadvertently told the future. She kept on telling June that she'd "end up dead in an alley by the end of the year." Well, now death seemed like a very real threat. When June's name was called, she shut off. She had no idea what was really happening. It was like her spirit had flown outside of her body, like it existed on an entirely different plane as she walked up to the stage. In fact, she hadn't even realized it was Jasper of all people that had been reaped beside her until it was far too late.
He was really mad that night. The worst part of it all was that June didn't have a single memory about what he'd said. She was still out of it when he arrived. She had no idea what his last words to her had been. She barely remembered he was even there, she thought it was all a dream, but when the girl asked her… What was that girl's name again? June couldn't remember anything.
Jasper avoided her from that day on. He wasn't mean to her, he could never be mean, even if she had hurt him and broken his trust completely. He just pretended she didn't exist. June's chest burned with fire when she saw him. All she wanted was to go and fling herself at his feet, begging for him to take her back, to forgive her, but she knew that it wouldn't be fair to ask him to do that. It wasn't fair that she'd hurt the one she loved. It was nobody's fault but hers. June could blame the alcohol all she wanted, but she knew that it was still her fault. There was no running and hiding from the fact that she had ruined it all.
From there, June's will to do anything slowly withered away, like a dried leaf that had been crumpled up and broken, the pieces carried away by the wind. She had spent countless nights awake, thinking through everything she would say to him if she could, if she could just have the chance to let him know how sorry she was.
But the truth was, the infallible June Fisher was afraid.
She was fucking terrified. For every sentence she planned to say, she could just imagine him giving angry responses, retorts, he would tell her that she has no excuses, that only an idiot would go back to a cheater, that she had hurt him and that she had ruined his trust, that he always knew she had a lot of balls, but only she would have the audacity to come back to him after what she'd done. She had these conversations in her head, but they all ended with him yelling angrily and her being cornered with no retorts. The very thought of Jasper being angry at her was enough to make her throat catch. She didn't want to see it when she was sober, vulnerable. At least ignoring each other hurt less.
Alright, maybe it didn't hurt less, but the hurt was more manageable. A dull ache in her belly all the time seemed much more tolerable than a fiery inferno that destroyed her and reduced her to nothing. Maybe it would be easier to just take it all at once, then she could heal for good and be okay again forever, but in reality, June was far too afraid to light that match.
And now, they were here. They were sitting in the same train car, both of them on their way to Hunger Games. And, if that wasn't bad enough, the Quell twist was all hyped up about love. Talk about dramatic irony.
She wondered if Jasper would expose her. Of course she deserved it, she was a cheater. She had made a mistake, and the consequences for that were going to continue to haunt her for the rest of her life. She couldn't change that, no matter how much she regretted it, no matter how much good she did, how much she tried to change, she would always be a cheater. She wouldn't blame Jasper for exposing her to not only the other tributes, but the entire nation. She would probably do the same thing, if she were in his shoes. She couldn't blame him for what he was feeling because she would have felt the same way.
But, as much as they tried to play strangers, June knew Jasper. They had been dating for three years, they had built and blossomed a beautiful relationship. He was her best friend, her partner in crime, he was the one she trusted, the one she told her secrets to, the one she cried in front of. They had both poured so much into each other, for a couple of days there it had honestly felt like they were unified, one spirit, two bodies. It had felt like that was it. She would never find someone else who understood her like he did, she would never find anyone else, she'd never love anyone else, because she'd found the one she was made for.
June knew Jasper. She knew that he wouldn't expose her. He was too good and kind for that. He cared about everyone, even people that hurt him like she did.
They were here. They were in the same train, sitting together. This moment was real. They were both here. The car was empty, as Demetrius had gone to check on the refreshments, and the mentors hadn't yet come to greet them. She could say something. She could start the conversation now, try to start fixing this, try to start healing… She had the words on the tip of her tongue, but June's body wouldn't let her say them. Her stomach was doing flips, she was shaking with nerves, trying not to look at him, as he wasn't looking at her. He probably felt nothing, but June was overwhelmed. She was shaking, her stomach bubbled with anxiety and ached she was so… So overwhelmed by pure fear and anxiety.
Demetrius came back into the room, eyeing up both of his tributes but mostly looking bored. Before he could open his huge Capitol mouth, though, the mentors entered the room. Vale came in first, his face set in a determined expression, and Prentice behind him, an unnaturally wide grin on his face.
"Oh, yes, about time you showed up," Demetrius said, tsking the mentors and shaking his head, which looked ridiculous in his bright red and pink getup.
"Don't tell me what to do child," Vale snarled.
"One of you two needs to win so I can be promoted as fast as possible," Demetrius said, rolling his eyes and going to get food.
"Ignore him," Vale said. "Ugh, he makes my skin crawl!"
Neither of the tributes spoke. June wanted to, but she couldn't make herself. She was too scared to even remotely feel like she was talking to Jasper, even in a group setting. Being a weak bitch could really be frustrating sometimes. June never thought she'd consider herself a weak bitch, but that was what she was. It was exhausting. She just got so tongue-tied. She wasn't afraid of Jasper, she could never be afraid of Jasper. He had loved her so well. No, she was mostly just scared of the confrontation, she was afraid of their neutral relationship officially turning off for good. She wasn't ready to take that yet.
"I'm Vale," he said. "That's Prentice. Don't worry, he's more scared of you than you are of him," he said, maybe as an attempt at a joke. From what June had seen of Vale, he didn't seem to be much of a joking type, or at least, not until last year when Prentice won. All three of the teens tried to give a small laugh.
"Jasper." He didn't sound like himself, but June didn't blame him. She didn't feel like herself either. He gave her a blank glance before focusing on the mentors. June couldn't help how her heart pounded when he looked at her. She'd almost expected him to give her some kind of nonverbal cue or something. But no. It was barely a passing glance.
"Juniper. But, um, I usually go by June."
Vale sat on the same couch as June, while Prentice sat by Jasper, even reaching out and giving him a very nervous handshake. "I think I recognize you," he said.
"Oh, um, I help out as a teacher sometimes… And, um… I babysit? Emma." June wanted to jump in. Ask how Emma was, what he'd been up to, how his students were, and his parents, Trevor, anything just to have some kind of communication with him. But she held her place.
"Oh, the Rall's daughter, right?"
"So you do know them," Jasper said.
"Yeah, she's friends with my pipsqueak. I mean little sister. Cool though! That's pretty neat." His smile quickly faded, replaced by him biting his lip nervously.
"Hey, don't worry Prentice," Jasper said, putting a hand on the older boy's shoulder. "You're going to be a great mentor."
"Sorry! Ah! I should be the one comforting you, not the other way around!" Prentice looked flustered, so Vale spoke next.
"It'll be alright though. We're going to bring in the team effort to get District Nine another Victor this year. Keep the streak going. And I think either of you is plenty capable!" Vale actually sounded somewhat enthusiastic. Maybe this would be June's chance to connect with Jasper again. "We have some information that is pretty valuable, all thanks to Prentice," the older mentor continued.
Prentice sunk a bit. "Oh yeah. Right."
"Actually, um, maybe we could be mentored separately?" Jasper asked, and June could feel her heart wither and sink to her stomach. That was confirmation, then. He didn't want to talk to her, he didn't care about working through this. "No offense, though, I just think…"
Prentice looked even more terrified, if possible. "Um, sure." Jasper stood up and his mentor slowly got to his feet, the two teenage boys going into another car together.
Vale looked concerned, but once they were gone turned his attention back to June. "Don't take it personally, June, it-"
June took a pillow and hugged it. It didn't make her any less upset, but she liked it. "It is a personal thing, though!" she said, before noticing how her mentor seemed to draw back at her raising her voice. "Sorry," she said. "This isn't the first time Jasper Pearce and I have been together." Vale gave an encouraging look, so June kept talking. However, June wasn't ready to share the nitty gritty details of her personal life with someone she barely knew, so she just swallowed the tears that were pushing at her throat and said, "I'm just nervous for the Quell twist. Falling in love, you know? Especially because Jasper and I… Are exes."
Vale looked genuinely surprised. "Oh…" The mentor could tell using context clues that the breakup had not been benevolent, so he didn't ask, which June was glad of. She wasn't going to open up so much to someone she barely knew. "Well, Miss Fisher, you're not going to like what I say next very much, but I want to plant this thought in you early."
"Um, okay…" June hated this stupid anxiety, but there was nothing she could do to control it or make it disappear. She just bit her lip and watched her mentor.
"The Capitol is no doubt going to eat up the fact that you're exes. And… The idea of the Games rekindling a lost love would no doubt make the crowds: and the President, probably: go absolutely nuts. The Capitol would eat it up, you and Jasper would be the poster children for the Games and the power of love or whatever ridiculous shit they have planned. June… If you could get Jasper to fall for you again, or at least get him to play the part for the crowd, you two would be showered with every sponsor gift you could possibly want. You'd be crowd favorites. And being on Blossius's good side is a good thing." He paused, waiting for her to respond.
June swallowed hard. "You're right. I didn't like it."
Vale softened slightly, patting her shoulder. "It's not the only way you could win," he said. "But it would skyrocket your odds. You wouldn't have to take advantage of him. I'll talk to Prentice. He'll know it's an act just like you. No one of you will have an advantage over the other. I just have this feeling that if District 9 is a team, our chance for Victory goes up. This could be… No other District has this opportunity that I know of. Please, at least consider it."
The girl nodded slowly. "Alright. I'll consider it."
"Good. Now, have you tried the macaroons? They're delicious." Mentor and tribute took a break for a snack before thinking about strategy, Jasper, or the impending days of awkwardness, heartbreak, and doom that were to come.
-Attila of the Windy Plains, 18, District 10-
If there was one emotion Attila promised he would never feel, it was regret. He had never really cared about consequences, as that would entail thinking into the future, or worse, thinking into the past. Attila simply preferred not to do either. He would keep himself perfectly in the present. Consequences implied that he would be thinking about some causation of an event, something that had already gone by, which was pointless. No progress would be made that way. Instead, he simply thought of them as obstacles he was facing, just like any other obstacles.
His District partner seemed alright, at least. Maybe she had taken part in training, maybe not. If she had, she'll join the Careers like he would, and if not, she'll probably just go off on her own and die somewhere.
Charlemagne gave some recommendations from the food table, but Attila had enough discipline to keep from eating sweets. He had no need for pointless sugar, unlike Miya and Charlemagne, both of who ate happily.
"What's District Ten like?" Charlemagne asked, to make conversation with the tributes.
"I liked it," Miya said, smiling slightly. "Probably not as great as a lot of other places, but it's… Home. I couldn't imagine being from anywhere else."
"Attila?"
"I could imagine being from District Two."
"Oh? Why is that?"
"I have Capitol lineage, way far back."
"How interesting! I can understand why you volunteered, if you feel so in touch with District Two." Charlemagne glanced at the door.
He asked a couple more questions, most of which Miya answered, before he stood up, looking somewhat worried. Attila barely had time to note the things his District partner said, but soon they didn't seem so important. "I'm going to see what's holding the mentors up so long. Please, excuse me." The man left the two teens alone again. Attila felt a tug in his gut, and got to his feet to follow where the escort had gone.
"Are you sure you should leave the train car?" Miya asked, glancing around. The only other person in the room was an Avox, a teenage boy with red hair and freckles, his eyes downtrodden on the ground.
"I'm going to see what's going on," he said. He didn't invite her along, mostly because he didn't care whether or not she followed him, but also because he figured she'd just invite herself if she really cared. He followed out the doorway that Charlemagne had previously left through, and Miya didn't follow him.
Attila really couldn't sneak very well. He was a big dude, and his footsteps were heavy because of his muscle. Not to mention he was one of the most conspicuous people out there. Agile, nimble sneaking was not one of his strong suits. Luckily, though, he could hear the mentors talking, even if he couldn't see them.
"I told you this would happen!" came a man's voice, recognizable to be Arthur Warrick's. "I told you I told you I told you!"
"Just take the girl," Roxanne said. "You can handle her, I'll take the volunteer."
"That seems favorable," Charlemagne encouraged.
Arthur just cleared his throat, then there was a pause. "Okay." Attila wondered why they were so worked up about all of this. For him, volunteering wasn't any big thing. It was an instinct, a pull at his gut, the thing he figured he should do, and he followed it. Besides, he wasn't really intending on asking his mentor for much help. They'd probably talk at him, but ultimately Attila believed he knew what to do, and when it came to surviving, it was all instinctive. That's what he had, that's what he was good at. Following his instincts.
"Good. All Attila needs to do is get over whatever rash impulses he has, and then he'll be ready. His sword work is impressive."
"Wait… You know him? You… You watched him train!?" Arthur exclaimed.
"I happened to stop by, yes."
"You can't mentor him then!"
"And why is that?"
"Because I refuse to bring us any closer to being Careers, that's why!"
"Arthur, I'm sure you would get along much better with Miya, maybe you should consider this," Charlemagne said gently.
"I refuse to let this District have that unfair of an advantage! I refuse to do anything else that reeks like Careers, or else soon we'll have Tartans in our hands and I don't think either of us can deal with that!"
"This is absurd. You're overcomplicating this," Roxanne said.
"I agree with Roxanne," Charlemagne said. "That doesn't usually happen, does it?" He was trying to lighten the mood, but the effort was in vain.
"I'll mentor the volunteer," Arthur said.
"That's not going to keep us from training. His parents are loaded rich, they're going to pour money into a real Training Center, with trainers from Two and real weapons, real dummies, the whole nine yards. They're going to do it! Our tributes will be respected, and our Victor's Village will be one of the most populated in all of Panem!" That sounded good to Attila. He didn't understand why anyone wouldn't want that for their home District. Frankly, it sounded great. "Just think about it, Arthur. Your little Lethia, never having to worry about being reaped. Never. There's a reason the Stowers children were registered in District One, not District Seven."
"Oh, yeah, while our children become bloodthirsty, excited killers! While our tributes get a reputation for playing dirty, while we have an unfair advantage just like we all called Prentice out for!"
"I didn't take part in most of that. I respect the kid, and you know why? Because he was loyal to his home, and did something ballsy, but didn't give up because he knew that it would give his District a better shot, his people a bigger chance of food and safety. Isn't that what you want? For rags families like your husband's to be fed?"
"We are not going to resort to this just to be Capitol lapdogs!" Arthur said.
"Arthur-"
"Charlemagne, please, you don't understand. Just… You're not going to like what you hear, alright? But I'm fucking sick of this."
"If kissing Blossius's ass is what it takes to get food for our starving, I will do it. I hate the Capitol too, but I want what's best for our District."
"So we just keep playing their Games? Keep sending children off to die?! I refuse to be their lapdogs."
"Oh really? Because you're already a Capitol lapdog. You canoodle with Capitolites all the time, Arthur! After all, aren't you and Caspar just playing cheatsies on each other with one of them to stay on their good side?! You're Capitol whores just like Prentice!"
There was a pause. Attila wasn't very good at sensing emotions, but even he could feel the atmosphere become cold. He was hoping for a fight, but it appeared that it wouldn't come to that.
"Leave my brother-in-law out of this, please, Roxanne," Charlemagne said.
"Nobody is cheating on anyone!" Arthur sounded truly mad. Attila peeked through the doorway, and his face was red. But, of course the man's eyes looked teary. It was a shame, what vulnerability could do to otherwise good people. "Valenty loves both of us and we both love him, and each other, so leave him out of this! This has nothing to do with him, or Caspar!"
"Your daughter is going to grow up a Capitolite."
"It's better than her growing up a Career," Arthur said.
"Is it?" Roxanne asked. "Is it really?" Arthur was quiet, and he left the room quickly, not acknowledging Attila, even if he could see him.
Roxanne followed, rolling her eyes. When she noticed Attila, she blinked. "How long have you been there?"
Attila shrugged. "A while."
"Well, Arthur's officially your mentor. Good luck, kid." She gave Attila a clap on the back and kept walking, before she stopped again. "Oh, Miya. Didn't see you there."
Attila didn't even notice his District partner join the spying. She was lanky, lighter, better at being quiet and out of the way. "I saw enough…" she said.
"Good. Let's go talk strategy." The girls walked away together.
"Let's get you back to your proper car, Attila," Charlemagne said, guiding him back to where they had begun. "I'm sorry about what you heard. It's nothing against you."
Attila just shrugged again. "It's fine. I really don't care. I know what I have to do for myself better than anyone else could."
Charlemagne seemed surprised at his bluntness. "Oh. Alright then. Well, do you mind if I go check on him then? Unaccompanied this time?" he gave a look, and Attila just nodded.
"Sure. Is there a way you could get me some celery for a snack?"
"Oh, yes, of course!" the older man seemed glad he could do something for his tribute, and flipped the long mane of blue and green hair over his shoulder as he went to put in the order. "My oldest daughter loves celery. Do you eat yours with peanut butter?"
Attila could care less about Charlemagne's family, but he pretended he was listening closely. After all the conversation he'd just overheard, the last thing he cared about or wanted was more words.
"Not usually."
"Maybe you'll consider it sometime. It's quite good, really. Anyways, that order's been placed. I'll go see if I can't get Arthur out here to consult with you in a bit."
Attila just nodded as Charlemagne left. Soon, the redheaded Avox boy brought Attila his celery. He kept glancing down at Attila's arms, probably admiring the muscles or tattoos or something, who knew? Attila ate celery, one of the most cleansing foods he knew. Then, he sat down.
After hearing everything he had, the words and events were buzzing around in his head. It was a feeling that had become very unnatural, not to mention plain uncomfortable for him. He didn't like it, so as soon as he was done with his snack he knew he had to clear the buzz of the reaping and the conversation out of his head.
He put one of the couch cushions on the floor and sat on it, shifting and moving until he was comfortable, perfectly comfortable. Then, he closed his eyes, ignoring the blurs of green and blue out the window that were passing by. All that existed was him. All that mattered was his spirit inside of his body.
He didn't make an effort to take deep breaths like he sometimes did. Instead, he just stayed focused on himself, on his body, on his beating heart and his lungs expanding and contracting as he breathed. He focused entirely on feeling, how each breath felt, how each exhalation brought release to a breath. The meditation, as it always did, brought with it a sense of calming, and realigned him with himself. Nobody else mattered, not Miya, not Arthur or Charlemagne or Roxanne. He would just keep nodding when they talked at him, but ultimately he knew what had to be done for himself, and his instincts hadn't gotten him into too much trouble over the years. This would be no different.
"Attila?" the boy was slightly annoyed when his mentor entered, but just gave a nod. "I'm Arthur. I'm sorry about what you might have overheard."
"It's fine," Attila said.
"I really will do my best for you, I promise. I don't half-ass mentoring." Attila just nodded, and as Arthur talked some more, did the same. Attila picked up on about half of what Arthur was saying, but most of it was advice that he either already knew or already knew not to follow. He focused on the feeling of meditation, though now he couldn't close his eyes or zone out, he focused on his inner self, on the workings of his body, all of the parts and pieces working together to make him. The talk ended when Arthur gestured to the window. "We're arriving."
The Capitol was spectacular, and the crowds were already cheering. The train doors opened, and Miya went off first, giving the crowd a confident smile and walking with grace. Attila followed, playing his stone-cold card that was bound to win him sponsors.
When they reached the Justice Building, they were separated, not to meet again until chariots. However, instead of being styled right away, Attila was left sitting in a chair in the middle of a sanitary white room. His first instinct was to run the hell away from there, but when he tried to get up, cuffs bound his wrists to the chair handles. Attila's heart pounded as he struggled against the restraints, a process that continued until a man entered the room. He looked to be young-ish, with glinting purple eyes and red hair streaked with pink.
"Alright, here we have... District 10 Male, Attila of the Windy Plains, eighteen." He said it to the corner of the room, which must have had a camera or something, it was hard to see. Attila didn't notice, all he cared about was what was going on, and how he could get out. He thrashed angrily, trying to break free.
"So sorry to bind you. This will be much easier if you relax."
Attila wasn't really listening, though. He continued to fight as the man introduced himself and said who he was.
"No worries, Attila, this is all procedural. We're simply going to inject your tracker now. The first shot is a primer that will be used to activate the tracker when it is time for the Games to begin."
"What?"
"We are trying a new prototype this year, that will be injected in a different place than usual." The man, what was his name again, lowered the back of the chair. "Please lay on your stomach." The binds on Attila's wrists were let go. Attila knew better than to disobey. The pricks were felt on the back of Attila's waist, and was almost unnaturally painful.
"That wasn't so bad, now was it?" the man offered him a kind smile as some Peacekeepers entered the room.
"You will now be escorted to your styling room. May the odds be ever in your favor."
~.~.
A/N: Hurrah, we're officially into the pre-Games! From here on out, each tribute will get one more POV before the Games begin of at least 2000 words. The list of whose POV happens when is up on the blog, along with some other drawings and bios for the Head Gamemakers/Capitolites! I hope you enjoyed this chapter, and the second look at June and Attila!
Also, there is a poll for your favorite tributes up on my profile, so if you haven't, you can vote on that!
I feel like there was something else I should tell you guys about relating to this story. But I can't put my finger on it. Hm. I'll probably think of it as soon as I post this chapter.
Anyways, I want to know what you think! Any predictions for the future? What'd you like? What'd you not like? Which mentors do you like? Which escorts are your faves? Let me know!
Chapter Questions (I'm asking one for each POV, but you have to answer both to get points, to hopefully quell the impending inflation): Do you think Vale is taking District 9 in the right direction? Do you believe Arthur was overreacting to the mentoring situation?
Next chapter, we'll hear from Dania and Desiree for the chariot rides! See you there!