Chapter Ten.


District Eight.


Castor Velboa, 17 years old;
District Eight Male.


He entered the bakery and eyed the counter longingly. His nose was the first to react – picking up sweet scents of caramelised treats, softly baked bread and the luscious fruit-baked cakes and confectionaries. Then his stomach followed and did its usual rumble – the tell-tale sound of another boy amongst hundreds and thousands that looked so hungrily at these goods he would never be able to afford.

It almost made him dislike the round-faced baker but Castor couldn't bring himself to do it. He was making an honest living for himself, eyes full of life and mirth and all around he just seemed a decent person. There was a woman with two small children in front of Castor as the bell rang throughout, signalling that he had just entered the property. Immediately Castor took note, logging it mentally and then looking over the baker's large shoulder to where there was only one other exit, towards where he imagined the kitchen was.

To his left, shelves were packed high of tinned goods and small packets of rolls and loaves of bread tied in paper bags with string. Piles of fruit were in wicker baskets and one of the little children in front kept trying to snag an apple but his mother would smack his hand away as she dealt with the baker.

Tick, tick, tick, Castor thought as the room he was in formed a cohesive map inside his mind. The bell tolled again as Castor took a step forwards, nearing the counter as the woman began to move aside. One of the children turned to Castor, eyed him curiously and then began to giggle. It made Castor's heart warm. He looked sideways to the apples and grinned at the little boy. "You want cake, believe me," Castor said.

The little boy only laughed as his mother tugged him away. Castor watched the family leave the baker's and wondered where they were headed, what part of the District they lived and if that family had ever really known anything difficult in their lives. He didn't really blame them – if they had money, then why would they ever think to live differently? It was just the way the world worked. It functioned on complete luck and Castor was just one of those thousands left with so little of it.

"And for you?" The baker had a jolly voice as Castor took his final step to the counter. His eyes could just about register the bread knife on-top of a chopping board, covered in crumbs where a row of half-cut bread rolls were stacked haphazardly. Whilst this man didn't really look like the type to use it, Castor had seen far worse throughout his life. "We've got a Reaping special on for those eligible. Two cakes for the price of one. It's the least we can do."

What a nice guy, Castor thought honestly. He hadn't actually planned on walking into the bakery today. He hadn't really planned anything as he'd left his family to their meagre breakfast and took a light stroll towards the centre. Something had pulled him here, though. Something that over-powered his mind telling him to just move on, given what today was, don't risk a spectacle, not with security so high, but Castor just couldn't help himself.

He blamed the smell. It was just so damn good.

"Hey kid," the man continued to say as Castor continued to silently ponder his choices, knowing full well the small coin in his pocket could barely afford a quarter of a cream-cake, "how old are you?"

"Seventeen," Castor said. "And yeah before you say it, I know I'm almost there."

"Try and think about that is all I can say. Two more of these days and you're free of it."

Castor smiled at the man. He really was trying to be a gentle soul but he was clearly from a privileged background. In the harsh, claustrophobic edges of Eight, there were of course other bakers. But they rarely offered much more than stale bread and if they had cake, no way did it smell this good or look so delicious. He was well-off and all he could do was look with pity at Castor.

And Castor could only do the same, because he mumbled an apology, swiped a bag of bread rolls from the stack on the counter underneath a sale sticker – clearly expiring soon – and darted towards the door. The baker yelled and the man behind him fumbled over his words, shocked and clearly disgusted with Castor, as the boy managed to throw open the door and hurtle out. He picked up the pace until he neared a corner in the road and slowed down. If a Peacekeeper was nearby, Castor knew better than to look suspicious. There was a lot of kids and adults that had been called on for no reason than wearing the ripped, raggedy clothes they wore because those with privilege could easily be bullies without igniting any sense of guilt whatsoever.

Castor knew about guilt. It ripped into his stomach as he bit into a roll, savouring its goodness, enjoying and absolutely despising the delicious nutty aftertaste as he swallowed the chunk and continued down the alley-way. The man had been delightful. The family in front of him; those kids were sweet and cheery. His family had no idea he did this because all Castor wanted to do was support them; from his love grew an innate fear for anything wrong happening. His parents were naïve in a sense – they thought their hard-work was enough to feed a family of five. It wasn't. How could it ever be?

It didn't mean Castor didn't feel things. He hadn't left his house with the intention to steal but it had just happened. Impulse taking over. Putting his family above the needs of that baker or others that might have bought those rolls. Hell, for all Castor knew they could have ended up chucked out and left for the animals anyway.

Nothing changed for Castor. He would do it again, he knew he would. Part of him relished the adrenaline, part of him despised himself for feeling anything good from it. He knew that he was pushing his luck. That sooner or later he would get what was coming to him. He just needed to get through today, get through next year, and think about things.

Maybe there was a better way. Maybe he could be both a protective big brother and a decent, well-rounded human being.

For now, he couldn't see it. He just hoped karma wouldn't come to bite him in the ass. Maybe, just maybe, luck would be on his side for once.


Armina Rione, 15 years old;
District Eight Female.


Armina rolled her eyes as Rian continued to drawl on and on. At first, Armina had been interested in what her friend had to say, now it just sounded like noise. Annoying noise.

"-anyway, my dad is thinking of throwing a party the eve before the Games start. Wanna come over?"

"Are you for real?" Armina finally said, recoiling at the fact of having to watch the Games, let alone celebrate their existence. "Oh yes, I'd love nothing more than to get drunk eight hours before two of our own get ripped to shreds."

"They might not die straight away, Armina," Rian spoke with enough annoying verve it almost sounded like she genuinely believed what she was saying. Armina sometimes found it quite endearing, but today when her nerves were biting away, tugging at her stomach and the smile that she wanted to portray, she did not have the energy for it. Rian continued, "Besides, what if it's you? Or Felicity?" She jabbed a finger into the side of their other friend. She was too busy playing idly with her hair, twizzling it round a finger to notice until she jumped up at Rian's annoying touch.

"Quit it bitch," Felicity complained, stroking her side. "Armina's right."

She doesn't even know what I was saying… "Thank you, Felicity," Armina smiled, straightening her back. They were sat on Rian's bed. She had the nicest house, the biggest bedroom, a cute little make-up table, so why not pretend today wasn't a thing and act like the teenage girls they were supposed to be. "Besides, all sarcasm aside, it's kind of disgusting throwing a party for the Games. You don't even like them."

"So?" Rian shrugged her shoulders. "I'm not going because I like the Games, I'm going because there's alcohol and all the adults will be too drunk to notice that we are having any."

"Sounds good to me," Felicity laughed. "Will there be boys?"

These girls are incessantly annoying. Armina wanted to rip into them, but she also knew that whilst yes they did cause her a whirlwind of aggravation most of the time, they were her best friends, and she didn't want to alienate them. Armina took a deep breath, thinking carefully before she spoke, and this time turned her attention to Felicity who was once again vapidly playing with the knots that she'd made in her hair.

"Maybe it's best we just don't talk about the Games until we're safe from today?" Armina suggested, genuinely believing that was probably the best way to be. "And for your information, Felicity, boys really aren't the saving grace of our universe. We can exist without them."

"You might be able to," Felicity snorted.

Rian nodded. "It's not the actual boy I need." She made a crude gesture and Felicity snorted even louder. Armina found herself chuckling lightly and stopped herself, the smile trying to tug at the corners of her lips but she repressed it and just stared at her two immature friends. Armina wouldn't be without them for the world – truthfully she wouldn't be without anyone for the world, she needed this sort of attention and socialization to simply get by and survive. Maybe it was a shallow existence, maybe it was important to be independent enough to not need someone, but she wasn't ignorant to the fact that being alone left her feeling a certain way she did not want to feel.

Even if she couldn't stand the vulgarity of some of the kids her age, or the idea that they should drink at fifteen, or anything for that matter that didn't sit well with Armina's stomach. She went along with it because the alternative was so much worse.

"Oh, lighten up, Armina," Rian said, nudging her.

She felt something feathery and soft hit her in the back of the head and gawped silently at the pillow that Felicity had in her hands. "Did you just hit me?" Armina asked.

Felicity continued grinning at her. All she ever had was boys on her mind so it was astounding to actually see Felicity thinking about anything else or paying attention to someone that wasn't her own reflection. "We love you, Armina, but god you can be such a bore."

"At least there's more than air between my ears."

"Burn," Felicity continued to giggle, tightening her grip on the pillow. "Look you're right we shouldn't think about today so let us actually try to think about something else. Who cares if Rian's dad wants to celebrate the mass slaughter of children? If it's not us, let us remain ignorant."

"Charming," Armina said, but she could see Felicity's point.

Maybe she had to put her money where her mouth was and do something better than sitting here talking about not discussing the Games, but allowing her mind to drift to such sad ideas. Armina picked up a soft cushion, a silk-bow adorning the pink lettering and she felt her stomach curl. Sometimes it's not just boys that are annoying, girls are just as bad. She laughed as she smacked Felicity in the shoulder, a little bit too hard that she fell off the bed with an oof.

Rian erupted into laughter that catapulted her onto Armina who struggled to fling her off her back. Felicity composed herself on the carpet and immediately launched herself into the fray of teenage best friends distracting themselves from the slim prospect that one of them could actually be carted off to the Capitol today.

Rian and Felicity never seemed to buy into that fact. Armina couldn't stop herself from thinking of anything else.

She needed these two girls as much as they needed her, if truth be told. Armina knew that and sometimes regretted that about herself. But right now, it's not about me, it's not about them, it's about anything and everything else!

The pillows had been discarded now. Felicity ended up back on the carpet. Rian bumped her head on the table. And Armina grew so winded from laughter that everything hurt but in a really good way. A joyous way.

Perhaps it was possible for Armina to forget and just be Armina. Was there anything really wrong with that?


Haven't got anything to really say at this point. These two are brand new as well!

Hope you enjoyed the chapter!