Ahh this chapter was so much fun to write! Not only do we get to check up on Mox and Chamberlain, but we also see some of the other characters introduced in the reapings, Maximus the Peacekeeper, and Katniss, Leto and Coral the escorts. I thought it would be a fun way to see the public's perception of the tributes, and the Games, especially as this was intended to be the year that reignited Panem's love of the Games...

Also, I'm aware of how weird this chapter is, I didn't exactly have much of a plan before I wrote it, I just knew that I wanted to revisit some of the old characters, so I basically made it up as I went along, and this is what I ended up with!

Maximus, District Eight Peacekeeper and the Escorts

"My bets on the Two girl. She'll kill her father if she's given the chance." Maximus slammed his shot glass back on the table, wincing as the sharpness of the vodka trickled down his throat. It was rare that the Peacekeeper got a day off in the Capitol. After guarding the District Eight tributes from their reaping up until the morning before the Games, and watching them both get slaughtered within the first few minutes, Maximus had been in high demand. The Capitolites saw something in him, they admired the way he wasn't a mindless drone like the rest of the other Peacekeepers. And so they had forced him to stick around, not that it had taken much convincing. The pay and the food and almost everything was so much better here than it had been in District Eight. Now, instead of spending his days breaking up protests that were doomed from the offset, or scolding teenagers for stealing, he attended parties and acted as a bodyguard for some of the most esteemed people in Panem. Somehow, he had even managed to score an invite to the escorts party, where he was sitting now.

"Me too, my boy's got no chance." Katniss, the aptly named District Twelve escort pushed her empty champagne glass across the table. It was swiftly filled up, and Maximus turned to see that his shot glass too was full once more. Wow, this really was the place that kept on giving. "He's strong, sure, but he's reckless and likes to show off too much. And I hate that thing he has going with the Two girl, that could end him." Katniss pointed a finger at Maximus accusingly, as if he had raised and trained the girl. It was clear to see how drunk she was, and Maximus could tell the other escorts were looking down on her, as if she was ruining their style and class. The Peacekeeper could tell that they were in little better shape than her. He almost pitied the way they had to hold back and couldn't have complete fun, more concerned with protecting their image. Max, on the other hand, had no image to protect, so he downed yet another shot.

"At least you have tributes." Leto, the District Five escort spat venomously, running his hand over his forehead creased in thought. He was angry at his tributes. He hadn't cared for them, that would have been stupid, they were merely canon fodder to entertain the Capitol. Leto was angry at Dina for being so careless on the first day, for dying before the Games had actually begun, she was supposed to be the victor. He had had countless discussions with her, telling her how to act, how to work the Capitol in the arena and get sponsors, but all of that had been for nothing. And he was even angrier at Newton for giving up. The boy would have no idea just how much the Capitol loved him and Alfred, they were like the Katniss and Peeta of the year, without the kissing of course. Or maybe with it… Leto wasn't one to judge. But the point was, if Newton had fought just a little harder in the fire, he could have won. People pitied his nervous energy, and felt his pain over everything he had been through, or had been forced through. If he won, he would be the Capitol's pride and joy.
Leto had needed a win. He needed the money that it would have brought in, the respect it would have given him, the proof that men could do this job. It would provide him security. Winning this year, in his first year as an escort, would have ensured him a place in the lineup for years to come, he would have been the one to beat. For a second, Leto got ahead of himself, thinking the future he was imagining was a reality, before quickly he was grounded, back to his real life, as Coral, the Escort for Four began to scoff.

"You're so selfish you know that? These tributes are people, I had to watch a young girl and an old man die in the first few days, have some respect." Coral paused, shaking her head. "Have some humanity." The woman was so unlike any of the others that surrounded her on the table. They longed for the bloodshot, the fighting, the drama, and all she wanted was this nightmare to be over. Becoming a Games escort had never been a dream for her, it had never even been something she had considered. But her family had fallen on hard times, so she had stepped up, and bought into the Capitol murder games. It was supposed to only be for a year, but now, five Games later, she sat in the same bar she did year after year, talking to a bunch of people who she couldn't care less about. Her role in the Games and affection for them was purely preformative. In private, she cursed their existence, her mind racing through all the tributes she had lost and failed.

Leto let out a yawn, rolling his eyes, and Coral had to resist the urge to punch him there and then, reminding herself that he wasn't worth losing her job over. She pushed back in her chair, ready to stand up and leave, Coral was merely just showing her face, being here was the last thing she wanted.

"They're in!" Katniss shot up in her seat, holding her tablet high above her head, as a small crowd gathered around their table. Coral sat back down, knowing she didn't want to miss this, as Katniss propped her tablet against a bowl of nuts, very professional, and pressed play, Adonia's ever beautiful face appearing on the screen.

"Citizens of Panem." Adonia began. Now it was Maximus' time to roll his eyes. He had been working security as they prepared for this event for the last two weeks, he had heard this speech countless times. "Since the 100th Games, on the sixth day, the Capitol has held a poll, allowing you, the people," She pointed towards the camera and Maximus scoffed as Katniss squealed in excitement. He pitied how simple the woman was, but more, he hated how annoying she was. "To rank your favourite tributes. The tribute with the most votes will get the chance to spend a few hours away from the Games in a luxury hotel and receive a video call from their family at home, only if they agree to kill the tribute in last place."

The 100th Hunger Games had been a mess. It was a trial run for all the new ideas, things the Capitol had been planning for years, but had never had the chance to put it in to practise. It led to chaos, and, despite it being long before Maximus' time, he still heard stories and tales. The most gruesome, was something Maximus still thought about every time he closed his eyes. The Gamemakers had planned to introduce food when the tributes got desperate, see how long they could starve them out, make them go crazy. Turns out it only took three days, before the careers captured a thirteen year old girl and made her watch as they ripped off her leg, eating it like animals. Maximus shuddered at the thought of it. That had been the start of the end for the Hunger Games, Capitolites beginning to realise that their superiors were taking it too far.
The only thing that had been kept was the poll, it provided excitement in a time when the Games usually dried up. The citizens loved it and always wanted to participate, so it kept them watching and the ratings high.

"As always, the tributes coming first and last will be left to the end." Adonia was buzzing, unable to keep still. "In sixth place, receiving 4.6% of the total votes is Locke." An audible gasp echoed around the bar, most people had assumed that after everything he had done, Locke would be last, there was no way that anyone in there could be hated more than him. Adonia, too, looked shocked, only seeing the results now for the first time. "Well…" She progressed, looking down at her paper. "In fifth place, with 5.1% of the vote is Salome." This one was less shocking. Sure, Salome had shown confidence leaving her father, but clearly the audience still associated them as a pair. "In fourth place, receiving an 8.3% share of the votes, is Florence from District Seven."

Maximus turned away from the screen to glance at the faces around the bar. It was clear to see that many people had wanted her to win, and not because she was a favourite. Florence was difficult to read- she didn't have the strong moral compass of some of the other tributes, and she hadn't vowed to avoid killing, yet still she had shown no signs of violence. Maximus couldn't tell if she was playing a game, and if she was, he had no idea how far it would get her.

"In third place, and with a huge 16.2% of the vote is Jordan."

Katniss slapped her hand down on the table in annoyance. She didn't care whether Jordan came first of last, she had just wanted something, something that would give her tribute some more screen time, some excitement, even if it did result in his death. It wasn't necessarily about having a winning tribute for Katniss, it was about the publicity. She didn't need to create a victor, just a tribute who would do things that would ever be forgotten. And, if they just so happened to die, then wouldn't it make their actions that much more memorable. In part, as dirty as she felt thinking it, wouldn't it be favourable if the tribute died? That way Katniss could reap the success and claim the reward for the legacy he had created, cementing herself in escort history. She had thought she had two such tributes this year- Lilac's love story with Flynt was bound to be a hit, but Katniss had seen that within the first few days, their romance had been overshadowed by Lana and Aila. that didn't matter now, all of them were dead.
And so, her attention had quickly turned back to Jordan. From the start he had been the one to watch, he was strong and unpredictable and pretty much the media's perfect tribute. Katniss assumed he would have been a sure win in this pole, the perfect balance between a cold killer and a man with a heart.

"With 27.8% of the vote and therefore the second most popular tribute, we have Alfred from District Two." Adonia sounded almost disappointed that he hadn't won, and Maximus felt the same. It was no surprise that Alfred was popular, he represented normality. He wasn't a show off, over trained career like tribute that had become so common in the Games. He was scared, and a little awkward, he didn't want to kill and had a kind heart. Relatability was one of the strongest attributes a tribute could have, and Alfred had captured that without even having to try.

"And so that leaves both District Six tributes, Lya and Ezra, one who received 35.3% and the other gaining just 2.7%." The contrast between the winning and the losing tribute was clear, and once again, a gasp echoed around the bar. "In first place is… Ezra, meaning that the least popular tribute is Lya."

Maximus let out a small laugh. The Capitolites had just made things very interesting, whether they intended to or not. Lya was clearly already dying, and Maximus considered that killing her was probably the kindest thing to do. But Ezra was a doctor, and also her friend, he had vowed to spend his life protecting and saving people in need. The Peacekeeper considered for a moment what he would do in Ezra's position. The man had a child and a pregnant wife, surely that was worth setting his morals and duties aside? Hell, Maximus wondered if Ezra could get away without having to actually do anything.. If he refused to help her, and she died, wasn't that the same as murder.

A steady hum of discussion and speculation spread across the bar, escorts and citizens alike trying to predict what would happen. Maximus had been beginning to get tired of the gruelling hours and almost impossible tasks set by the Capitol, no matter how much better this place may have been than his home District. Now, however, he felt so thankful for being at the centre.

Day Six, Evening

"You're kidding me right?" Ezra strolled around the circle of tributes. They sat to the left of the Cornucopia with Florence, Alfred and Lya, the badly injured girl propped up on all the jackets and blankets they could find, slipping in and out of consciousness. The announcement of their rankings had just been broadcast into the arena. After the events of the day, most of the tributes had forgotten about it, and if they hadn't, they wished they could now. "They think I would have carried her through a burning woods just to get her here and kill her?" He let out a blunt humourless laugh, shaking his head, sitting down next to Florence before leaning forward and placing his hand against Lya's forehead, checking her temperature. Alfred moved next to Ezra, giving Lya some water.

"You have to do it." Lya spoke for the first time since they had arrived here a few hours ago. It was strange all the tributes being together once more, even though their numbers had fallen by more than half. Florence, Alfred, Lya and Ezra had quickly grouped together, but the remaining three couldn't be further apart. Ezra had watched as Locke had tried to approach Salome, the girl quickly walking away and joining with Jordan. That hadn't lasted long, and now the three sat doing anything other than looking at each other. It made for a very tense atmosphere, and Ezra doubted that anyone here would get a second of sleep tonight, everyone on edge and untrusting of one another.

"Shut up, Lya." Ezra snapped, affectionately, taking a sip of water. The only silver lining the Ezra could find in the everything that had happened the past day was that they were now closer to the water source. They had been able to bathe and drink without worrying. And they had access to the medical supplies that Locke had been hoarding from the start. Ezra had expected a fight there, but he could tell something in Locke had changed, and they were handed over quickly, Ezra making the rounds to patch up all the tributes that had been injured in the fire.

"Ezra, listen to me." Lya gripped tight to Ezra's hand as he moved back to his seat, keeping him near her. "No matter what you do to help me, I'm going to die anyway. I'm a smart girl, I know one of my lungs has collapsed and the smoke inhalation certainly hasn't helped the other. I also know that the wound on my chest is infected." Lya smiled at the look of shock on Ezra's face. "You don't spend three months in a Capitol hospital without picking up a few things."

Alfred watched on as the two continued to debate what to do. He would never voice it, and felt guilty to even consider it, but he knew that Lya was right. If the Labyrinth was even a fraction as bad as Alfred was imagining it to be, there was no way Lya would survive past the first few minutes. She couldn't walk, and Alfred wasn't sure how long he and Ezra could carry her for. Florence's ankle was badly sprained, and Alfred had already silently vowed to do whatever he could to keep her safe. With the girl's injuries and the limited skills he and Ezra had, Alfred doubted they had enough power to defeat whatever awaited them. And that was without even considering if the other tributes were going to play it fair. He had no doubts about Salome, in the short time Alfred had spent with her, he knew that she was nothing like her father, she was kind, and against any kind of violence, which now worked in their favour. Although it looked like Locke was a changed man, Alfred wasn't completely sure that was genuine. He had watched the way the man had enjoyed capturing Newton, the cruel look in his eye was something the younger male knew he would never be able to get out of his head.
So whatever way Alfred looked at it, they were completely screwed, unless Ezra did this. Despite whatever he thought, Alfred knew that if he had been in Ezra's position, he would be making the exact same choice as the doctor was. Lya didn't deserve any of this, she was a good person, no one had the right to take away her life, even if what remained may have been very short.

"This isn't right." Florence spoke up for the first time. "Why are they doing this to you? And why are they acting like it's some kind of reward. You're sick, all of you, are sick bastards." SHe screamed at the sky, pounding her fists against the dry grass. Alfred shuffled slowly towards her, sitting so that they sides were brushing together, pausing for a second as if he was debating what to do, before wrapping his arm around Florence's shoulder and pulling her towards him so that her head was resting on his chest.

"Don't think about me." Lya's voice was hoarse, her words hitching in the back of her dry throat, the girl remaining dehydrated no matter how much water she drank. Her body was so tired, this was the most she had talked in days. "Think about your wife and your child, imagine what seeing them will be like. Imagine what it would do to them knowing they get to see you again."

Ezra smiled, seeing his wife and child was the only thing he had been able to think about. He didn't care about the luxury food or the warm bath or the soft bed he could spend a few precious hours in. It was all about his family. It was about seeing the way the wrinkles formed around his wife's eyes as she smiled, or the way his daughter refused to pronounce her 'r's even though he knew she could pronounce them perfectly well. He wanted to hear them laugh again, hear them say his name. He wanted to remind him how much he loved them.
Ezra knew though that he wouldn't be able to focus on any of that. All he would see on their faces was that of the girl he had killed to get him there. He had made a promise to Ronin, back before the Games had even begun. They wouldn't kill. The least he could do to honour that boy's memory was to keep that promise.

He looked at Lya, the way she lay there so helpless and broken, but still with the same spirit and strength that she had met him with on the first day. Ezra let out a small laugh at the memory of their first meeting, the way he had focused on her prosthetic arm, rather than the beautiful kind-hearted person she was. Never did Ezra think they would be here together after that.

He knew that Lya's journey and time here was coming to an end, but he couldn't be the reason for that.

"Fuck your fucking deal." Ezra screamed at the sky, using more curse words in that sentence than he probably had in his whole life.

Mox, Head Gamemaker

Mox's predecessor had been a man that believed very little in organisation, a very nice way to say that he was a mess. In the past, the pair had joked about it together, Mox always questioning Clem as to how he ever got anything finished. Now, she wished she had spent more time bullying him into making things a little bit tidier.

"Are you serious Mox?" Chamberlain stormed into the woman's office, previously owned by Clem. It made Mox sick even being in here and she detested the Capitol for forcing her to keep it. Everything was left exactly the way Clem had had it, and she constantly thought that if she changed even the slightest thing, she was betraying him, wiping him out of history. The truth was, the Capitol wished they could write him out of history, he had ruined the Games in a year when their success was so crucial. If the Capitol were trying to completely erase him, there was no way Mox could do the same. So she sat surrounded by his things, trying to focus more on making these Games a success than how every little objected reminded her of him.

"Huh?" The Head Gamemaker looked up, sending a quizzical look at Chamberlain, too distracted by memories of Clem to have any idea what her superior had been questioning her about.

"All that survive get to go home?" Lyric Chamberlain explained, perching on the edge of the desk, referencing the announcement that Mox had given to the tributes just a few hours prior. Mox and Chamberlain had worked for hours consulting with the arena designers, trying to make the best Labyrinth possible, allowing more than one tributes to make it back to their home District had never been a discussion. "You know that's not what we need right now, especially with the whole, you know." Mox could tell he was trying not to say Clem's name, as if if she hurt it she would shatter into a thousand pieces. "All I'm saying is this looks exactly like something he would have done."

"Chamberlain." Mox lent backwards in her chair, crossing her arms in front of her chest. "I'm not a fucking idiot." She snapped suddenly, taken aback herself by her sudden anger.

"Look, all I'm saying is I know you're sad, but you can't make the same mistakes he did." Lyric paused, noticing how badly Mox was taking his statement. "What will you do if they all win, you can't send them all home."

"You know I'm sad?" Mox spat, shooting up from her seat and walking around the desk, towards Chamberlain. "Do you know how many years I knew Clem?" She paused before answering her own question. "Twenty three. And do you know how many years I loved him?"

"I'm going to have a stab at twenty three?" Chamberlain retorted sarcastically, his attempt at humour going amiss on Mox.

"No. Twenty two, the first year he was an asshole." Mox paused, allowing herself to smile at the memory of Clem in their first year of secondary school, their eleven year old selves arguing and shouting at each other in the halls, so oblivious to how much they would come to mean to one another in such a short space of time. They would become inseparable, dependent on each other, and every decision one made about their future, the other wouldn't be far behind. "So no. I'm not sad. I'm heartbroken, destroyed, useless without him. I don't know how I'm supposed to do anything without him. And most of all, Lyric," She sat back down in her seat, defeated, now too tired to shout or scream. "Most of all I'm hurt. Hurt that the very people Clem risked his life trying to save killed him. So don't worry about me, there is no way I'm going down the same route as Clem. I want to watch them all burn, and the only thing keeping me from giving up is knowing I'm the one that gets to light the match."

Can you live that long with a collapsed lung and very little treatment? I have no idea... Grey's Anatomy didn't teach me that much...

But yay Ezra! I don't think that anyone ever had any doubt about what he would do with the decision, but it just proves that he is a good guy, quickly becoming one of my most favourite tributes!

We are getting so close to the end now, which is exciting, but also worrying because I still have no idea who I want to win, its between three tributes. I have three different plans and after the next chapter I have to pick one... decisions decisions.

I also have plans for another SYOT! It's kind of a sequel to this one, being that it has the same history (like, the Games are becoming less popular and the rebellion failed) and possibly one or two of the same characters, but it also works perfectly well as a stand alone thing. I'm probably going to be posting an opening chapter in a few weeks time, so be ready for that if you're interested in reading more from me. Writing this story and reading your love and feedback has seriously helped me get through lockdown, and I still have about three months before university starts again, so why not continue writing new things?

As always, I hope you are all well and safe, and thanks for reading!

Until next time,

Alice xxx