Klaus Harg

District 5

"And Klaus Harg with a 2!"

Ariel raises an eyebrow at me, but I simply shrug. "I'm surprised that they just didn't give me a one."

I throw up my shoes to the table and lay back so I can sit comfortably. The 2 flimmers on the screen beside my picture, where I'm grinning like mad and holding up the peace sign. The capitolites back at the photo both tried to convince me to look neutral but eventually gave up. It was a surprise that they gave such a high score, considering I didn't actually do anything. Well, I threw a few axes and knives, but that's only because I didn't want anyone to force me to do anything.

The score never mattered to me either, like I was going to get any sponsors to begin with anyway. Even if I got a medium score, let's say 5, the capitol only cares about the higher scores. To be recognized you need at least a seven or higher, and like that's ever gonna happen. If I would even try to get a high score for some godforsaken reason I would actually have to put effort into it, which is a big no-no. I'm not going to spend my last days slaving away when I should just take it easy.

Like these last past days have been anything but easy.

The interviews should at least be fun. You can say stupid shit and it will be televised on live television? What else can you ask for?

Ariel sighs and gives me a disappointed look, the third one this evening. "Klaus, please take your shoes off the table."

I snort. "How about I don't."

"How about that you start listening to me and we might actually get somewhere."

"Please, don't make me believe you actually think I have a chance. Go and waste your time on Winchester instead, since she is the one who wants to go home," I wave my hand towards Winchester back at the table, who shoots me a glare.

Ariel raises an eyebrow. "You never struck me as the suicidal type."

"Well, I wouldn't say I'm suicidal." I look up at the roof. "Just a realist."

"Then don't waste my time."

"Fuck off."

With that, I throw my legs off the table and stand up. This conversation has gotten me much more riled up than I wanted. Being angry is much less fun than seeing others be, and I should probably leave before I do something stupid, not the fun sort of stupid, but the sort that I will regret later. I put my hands in my pockets on my shorts and start making my way towards my bedroom.

Winchester glares at me when I pass, but I ignore her. "You know that you can be very unpleasant to be around sometimes."

"You hadn't noticed until now?" I reply curtly.

Winchester sighs. "I'm not in the mood to argue. Just leave me be."

I chuckle. "Then why did ask me?"

"I don't know, and to be honest I don't care."

"Good. Then stop annoying me."

Just as I turn around to leave I hear her annoying voice again behind me. "Can you just not be selfish? Like, try to be nice for once. How hard can it be?"

"Tried it, wasn't fun," I say honestly, which is a half-truth in its way. I could never afford to be nice, and even when I could, it wasn't worth the effort. That said, I never enjoyed being mean either. I enjoyed doing what I wanted, which everyone does, and being kinda an asshole was just a bieffect. Was it intentional? No. Do I care? No.

"You're a jerk."

"Please, you have already told me that at least a dozen times. Be a bit creative!"

"I don't have. That word explains what I think enough."

I scoff and spit on the ground in front of her. "If anything, I deserve to be a little selfish."

Winchester shakes her head. "There's never an excuse to be selfish."

"Go and tell that to the kid who's parents threw him out."

"You're talking to one."

I barely register her last sentence, already halfway through the door to my room. Already tired of her bullshit, I decided that I need to keep my mind off her. I start the tv in my room, but when I scroll through the channels I realize most of it is just cheesy soap operas. With a groan, I throw the remote on my bed and instead move towards the minibar.

I'm met with disappointment as I open the minifridge and realize that they don't have anything stronger than soda. Damn. It would have felt really good to get knocked up tonight, but I guess that won't happen. I cast a glare at the soda, before grabbing one and a bag of chips from the minibar.

I finally find an action movie on the tv and I try to relax laying in my bed taking in the mindless violence on the screen. I crack open the soda and the bag of chips, trying my best to stay calm. I'm able to eat about two pieces of chips before I feel like vomiting, so I throw it across the room towards the trash can but it hits the wall instead.

After about half an hour watching the movie, my head starts to hurt, so I turn it off. I stand up and try to drink the soda is one sip, but I start gagging halfway through. I put down the soda on my table and as I suddenly feel the headache returning to me. With a slam, I put down my hand on the table in an attempt to support myself as my head feels like it will explode. Fuck. These withdrawal symptoms are getting worse by the day.

Suddenly I hear someone knocking on my door, and from the powerful knocks I can hear that it isn't measly Winchester knocking, but my mentor Ariel, which is enough for me to groan.

"Hey," I hear him say, still outside my room.

"No," I reply curtly.

I can hear him going towards the handle to open the door, so I quickly cut him off: "Don't open the door. I'm not in the mood."

"Are you ever in the mood?"

I roll my eyes. "Fair. But I don't really care. Fuck off."

"Well, I'm your mentor. I'll have to care about you, no matter what you say. So, why can't we talk?"

"You literally told me to not waste your time and I'm listening to you. What else do you want from me."

Despite still feeling nauseous, I push two chips into my mouth from the bag I picked up from the floor. My stomach is revolting, but I'm going to enjoy these last two days before I'm going to die even if my entire body is protesting. My mind has been rebelling since day one anyway, craving the drugs which are impossible for me to acquire right now.

Ariel sighs. "I'm sorry that I said that. It slipped out of me. We still have the interviews. People are interested in you after your spectacle at the reaping. Most of them haven't made the connection that you were high, which is something we can build off. If you continue that and make a good interview, we might have something to work with."

"Do you really care what happens to me and not just so you can look like a good mentor for the capitol?" I ask.

"Would you trust me if I said yes?"

"No."

Ariel sighs. "You got me there. But we both want the same thing. For you to go far."

"Are you sure that's what I want?"

"You said it yourself. You aren't suicidal, just a realist. Don't play games with me, boy."

Maybe there is something with his condescending tone, his choice of words or I'm just in a bad mood, but right now I'm seriously ticked off. I mutter a few well-selected words directed at Ariel, just low enough so he won't hear it, and I decide to mess with him a little bit. He deserves it. "Oh if I want to, I will. This is my own life, and I do what I want with it. Actually, I was planning to do a rather banger interview, but I might bomb it just to spite you."

"That would be extremely petty and unreasonable," he replies, his tone much more irritated than before.

I smirk. "What can I say, I'm a petty person."

He sighs. "I'm guessing there's nothing I can say to change your mind. Goodbye then. Have fun killing yourself."

"That's not true," I say just as I hear his footsteps going away from the door. "Maybe you can't say anything that will change my mind, but there is one thing you can do that might make me reconsider my interview. If you will do me a favor, I'll return to my original plan."

His footsteps stop. "And how could I trust you that you wouldn't just bomb the interview anyway."

I grin again. This is going perfectly. "I don't like you, Ariel. I think you know that by now, and I like to have the last word when dealing with people I don't like. Ruining my interview would piss you off and that would be very satisfying for me, even how little sense that makes when I say that out loud. If you do me the favor that I'm about to ask you, that means that I, a drugged asshole from District 5, can control a hardened victor of the hunger games. That would satisfy me enough, and I can just enjoy my interview without having to think about your face the entire time."

He sighs. "Okay then. What do you want?"

"Drugs," I reveal. "Speed, hallucinogens, I'll even take weed if that's the only thing you can find."

"That's impossible. I'm a victor, it would be way too suspicious. No drug dealer would dare to sell to me anyway. This isn't like the districts, to buy drugs in the capitol you actually need connections. Sorry, pick something else."

"Then we're done."

We're quiet for a minute as I think what else I can pressure him, but he does it before me: "What about alcohol? I can get that."

"That totally works. When can I have my hands on it?"

"But how the hell are you supposed to give an interview when you have a hangover, now that I think about it."

"Don't worry about that, I've had few standup shots when I was on withdrawal," I say, but I can see him behind the door rolling his eyes, so I quickly add: "It's true, it paid good money. It's a learned skill."

He sighs again. "Deal then. I'll have a bottle at the dinner table at 1 am."

"Glad we could work something out-" I start before realizing he is already gone. I mutter a few curses before going back to my bed.

I set the alarm on the screen beside my bed to the time my bottle arrives, already longing for the release. Deciding that I could use some sleep until I can drink, I move towards the closet to change to something more comfortable. When I'm open it I'm met with a pajamas covered with green ducks, most likely put in as a joke. I still change to it, since I don't really care.

I throw myself onto the bed and dive into the blankets in an attempt to get more comfortable. As I close my eyes I pray that this night will be different from the other nights, and I start the sleep technique a druggie taught me a year ago. After about 30 minutes I realize it's just like every other night and I can already feel the sweat dripping down my forehead. Fuck. Withdrawal has always sucked and will continue to suck. I really wish I had some marijuana right now. It felt really damn good to go to sleep after smoking a joint before bedtime.

Too bad it's impossible to acquire any sort of stimulants in the capitol. They couldn't even be bothered with giving me any sort of withdrawal pills or anything similar to ease the pain. Trust me, I asked. They just laughed at me and told me to man up. Even in the shittiest district in Panem, District 5, they gave me small doses of the drugs I used whenever Ben dragged me to the rehab center when the withdrawal was especially bad. It wasn't enough to satisfy me, but enough for me to get a few hours of sleep. But I'm so lucky in the capitol.

Despite the paradise, I'm living in while preparing for the games my mind is still stuck in hell. The hell that is my life ever since my mother died at childbirth and I was the murderer in my father's eyes. The hell that is District 5 with its slums and generally suckiness, where I have almost been stabbed more times than I can count. I might be finally free when I'm dead. But knowing my luck, I'll probably go to hell or something. I'll just hope that it's true that all children go to heaven.

I throw myself around in my bed until my alarm finally goes off, and I instantly jump up. My legs still feel like spaghetti and I might accidentally fall asleep if I close my eyes for too long, but just the thought of the sweet ambrosia gives me enough energy to stumble towards the door. I throw it open, not caring that is slams into the wall, if someone asks I'll just say I'm going to the bathroom or some bullshit.

It was almost too easy. Victors, lowlives, kids, normal Joe's, everyone has an ego to exploit. Some are just so much more apparent than others, like the guy I just convinced to bring me alcohol in exchange for not bombing the interview. The thought alone makes me chuckle. It's so illogical, irrational, and just stupid, but that's just people. Humans are illogical, irrational, and stupid, I'm the living proof of it. I could just blow the interview because I'm illogical, irrational, and stupid, but I just…

Don't really give a shit.

I mutter a few curse words under my breath as I walk into the room without a bottle in sight. So the brainlet actually changed his mind and decided to stand up for himself. That was unexpected, my respect for him might have increased from nonexistent to minuscule. Anyway, I should return to bed to try to gain some sleep at least. I need to be well-rested for the interview I'm about to crash so badly tomorrow.

"If you're looking for the bottle I have already poured it out," A voice suddenly says behind me, causing me to stop dead in my tracks. I quickly turn around to be met with Winchester sitting on a chair, or rather laying on it as she has her feet on the table and her arms around her back, as she stares me in the eyes with an icy stare.

My lip twitches and I fight the temptation to just run up and punch her. I have misjudged her. She just wants to piss me off. "Wow, how responsible of you! Instead of doing anything useful, you have just decided to be an asshole to your district partner! It accomplished nothing other than fucking me over! Such bravery!"

Winchester scoffs. "Like you talking about being an asshole actually means something."

"Well, dragging yourself down to my level won't solve our problems. Please, if you're going to be an asshole at least have some class. Also, how did you know about alcohol?"

Winchester raises her eyebrow. "I probably wouldn't have noticed if you two weren't basically shouting out your words. We live next to each other, but I wouldn't be surprised if you had forgotten that."

I chuckle. "So you went through all that trouble just to piss me off. Congratulations, you succeeded. Do you want a medal for such a courageous act? All of this is quite the out of character wouldn't you say? Were's the doormat personality that you have had literally every other day?"

"You piss me off," she simply says as she bends forwards towards me. "I can't stand people who piss me off."

To be fair, she has only become more aggressive as timed passed here in the capitol. Not sure if it's the pressure or she just hates me. I can't blame her if it's the latter. At first, back in the train rides, she was kinda passive and not very unlikeable. I just joked around with her and actually planned to leave her alone once training started, since I felt bad for her, which surprised even me. Then she punched me at the parade and because I am Klaus, I will never forget that. Ever since everything has spiraled downhill since then to the point where we are now.

"Why did you do this by the way? Any special reason? If you did this just to be an asshole, then that's fair," I quickly add.

"I don't know," she says with a puzzled expression. "I guess I wanted to see your reaction. To see if you had any redeemable qualities. But from what I have gathered, you're just born an asshole."

"Sure. You know nothing about me."

Winchester rolls her eyes. "You have already said that like ten times. So tell me about your deal. Tell me why I'm wrong."

"Mother died at childbirth. The waste of oxygen that is my father decided that I was her murderer. Since then he has spent his entire life making mine miserable. Nothing much else," I say and wave dismissing towards her.

Winchester entire posture change once I finish and the aggressive glint in her eye disappeared. She threw her legs off the table and she visibly relaxed, returning to her normal persona, not the spiteful one I have had the pleasure of knowing these last few days. "Wow. Your dad sounds kinda pathetic."

"Your completely right," I smirk. "Bet you didn't expect that."

Winchester raises her eyebrow. "I didn't. I don't think you're lying either, for reasons. But why would you sound so proud of that? It sounds more like you're happy to have a reason to be an asshole."

I scoff. "You wouldn't understand. No one with two loving parents would."

Winchester holds up her hands in surrender. "Wow, someone is making assumptions, especially after talking so much about not making them." And then she spills it. Her entire story of how her parents didn't want anyone who would step out of their standards, and how she was kicked out after cutting her hair. How she struggled to survive and disguised herself to be able to work. How she was picked up by the owner of a large company and now travels around Panem in a train. For some reason, I don't roll my eyes and stroll away as I normally do, instead, I take a seat.

When she finishes, I chuckle. "Some people really are pathetic."

Winchester frowns. "I have never thought my parents as pathetic, but now that you mention it, maybe they are. They certainly act like it."

I scowl. "At least you got someone to take care of you. I didn't have that fortune."

Winchester raises her eyebrow. "Well, that's because I remained kind through all of it, which is the one key difference between us Klaus."

"So you mean you became weak," I mutter.

"If I became weak, then explain why we ended up so differently. I'll say it's a strength."

"You're probably right," I say under my breath without thinking, which I instantly regret. I'm just hoping she didn't hear that.

Apparently, luck isn't in my favor as Winchester awkwardly chuckles. "Klaus actually admitting he's wrong? What's this, a dream?"

"What are you blabbing about? I didn't say anything."

"About the answer, I expected from you. I'm going to bed now, I'm starting to get tired."

She leaves her seat and starts walking towards her room, leaving me to the violent emotions that are rebelling in my head.

I hate her. I hate her like nothing else, almost rivaling the hate I feel for my father. Not the kind of dislike I had before, where I just found her obnoxious, but pure hate. It's not because something she did, said, or even is. It's not because I dislike her or what she stands for, it's the opposite. I hate her because she's everything I couldn't be. She lived in similar conditions to me and despite that, she has an exciting life and a loving caretaker. And it's not because she's lucky, but because she didn't lose herself and worked herself up.

She's a reminder of everything I failed to be. When she explained her life story, everything came crashing down. I didn't deserve any of this. Winchester didn't deserve any of this. And despite that, the only one I can blame for who I am is myself. I couldn't keep myself together and I have to reap the consequences now. It's too late to backtrack now, to do everything right.

She's the reflection of me, and that reflection basically punched me in the face.

So yeah, took me another two years to update. But hey, I don't like rushing things and the chapters come out when they come out, even if this was a bit too late lmao.

Klaus was fun to write, but I don't blame you if you die a bit on the inside every time he opens his mouth xD. Also, I think I said something about me wanting to choose an active submitter for a victor in an earlier chapter. Scratch that, it's free games, everyone can win.

Emerald was supposed to be in this chapter too, but I had already taken way too long and she would fit better into another chapter I had planned. In my headcanon, the interviews are on a separate fourth day, which means that the tributes have a "Free day" there since the interviews are on the evenings.

So, we'll see you guys in two years with Emerald and Kris on the Free Day!