March 1st, 174PA
Millie Spark, 13—D5F
She knows she isn't supposed to feel sorry for herself, especially not at this time of year, after a bout of virus left many more kids parentless and the orphanage more crowded than usual. The youngest is just seven months old, the oldest a few months younger than her. This orphanage doesn't take in new children past thirteen, and although Millie's allowed to stay here, she has to work to earn her keep.
And usually, she does. But today is not a good day for her. Today would have been her parents' anniversary.
Millie glances down at her journal, at what she's written down about those kinds of days. It's titled Anniversary and doodles of wedding cakes and balloons decorate the margins. But she doesn't read it, because that would be too painful.
Just then, she hears wheels scraping against the rough floor. Trying to compose herself, she looks up to see Edison carting in a wheelbarrow of grain.
"Hey, Mils," he greets, using the nickname that him and Nina came up with. "I brought this for you. Tesserae for the children. I know you need it, so don't try to dismiss it."
"Thank you," Millie responds, truly grateful. Then her expression turns immediately to concern. "But…you entered for tesserae? Why?"
Edison looks uncomfortable. "It wasn't me. Newton and his friends…you know what, I don't know what they did. Stole it, probably. But they managed to get this and he gave it to me to deliver to you."
So this tesserae was most likely procured illegally. Great. But now she could be incriminated as part of the plot, and as Edison said, his brother didn't do much other than petty crimes. Like stealing. Like Millie did.
Then again, she didn't steal directly from the Capitol.
"Tell them thank you, then make sure to tell them to never do this again." Then she smiled. "This'll be enough food for them for at least a few weeks. Thank you."
"Where should I put this?"
"Can you bring it with me to the thirteens-and-older bedroom? There aren't many people there, and they'll be too grateful to ask questions." If someone lived at this orphanage for this long, they knew the number one rule: make sure everyone is cared for, whatever that takes. It seems wrong, maybe, from the outside. But over time, Millie has come to understand and agree. The children are more important, the system's corrupt anyways. That's not going to change.
So that's what convinces Millie to accept the grain and store it in the bedroom, which is what they do.
"Again, thank you so much. And now, I have to go and convince Arden to give away all the fancy clothes her mother bought before…well, you know. Maybe it'll involve some bribery. That child's more fussy than a Gamemaker finalizing the Hunger Games arena, I swear."
Edison smiles tightly, and at that point Millie realises her mistake. "Oh, I'm so sorry. I forgot that you don't like talking about the Hunger Games. I'll stop now, sorry." Millie's been lucky enough to not know anyone who's been in the Hunger Games before, but Edison's cousin had been reaped and didn't come back. The whole family handles their grief by burying everything related to the Hunger Games deep inside, never to talk about. Which isn't exactly a coping mechanism that Millie agrees with, but Edison doesn't exactly agree with her sneaking out to the wilderness, and as far as she knows he's never complained about it. That's how they are—respect the differences in upbringing and morals.
When you have two parents, older siblings (even if they stole tesserae from the Capitol), and didn't have to act like a mother to twenty or so other children, life is a lot easier, Millie's sure.
"Well, I've got to go to work now, Millie, but I'll see you later, yeah?"
"Yeah, sounds good," is Millie's response. "'S Nina coming over, too?"
Edison shrugs. "She never explicitly said she would, but I don't think Nina wouldn't come."
Millie nods in agreement, and the two walk in silence out to the front door. Edison hops on his bicycle and takes off, while Millie stays and rubs the dust that he kicks up out of her eyes.
A voice calls her from inside. "Millie!"
"Coming," she responds, and heads inside towards the kitchen. "Do you want me to start making breakfast?" she asks.
Mrs. Hidde nods. "I have to check up on Theodor, see how he's settling in with his new family. I think they're lovely people, and I don't see why I have to go, but I made a promise to Candis when I took over the orphanage from her…"
Millie smiles, all too familiar with Mrs. Hidde's stubbornness. "The blackberry bush seems ripe, we might be able to have those for breakfast along with the oatmeal. Oh, and I can bake some bread for tomorrow, too."
In response, Mrs. Hidde nods. "Don't ever leave here, Millie. I don't know how I would manage this place without you."
"You'd probably find someone else."
"Probably," she acknowledges. "But they wouldn't be as good as you are at handling all of this."
Millie rummages around in the cupboards for their oats, and starts boiling water. The breakfast takes thirty minutes to make, and after that she eats with the other children and then she has to check her traps for lunch and dinner. While she's waiting for the water, she goes back to her room and fetches the tesserae grain, grinding it into flour for the bread.
Making food for everyone here is hard work, and she's grateful for the help given to her by Citra, who brings in a bowl full of ripe berries to top the oatmeal with; and Leolyn, who offers to take over the bread so that Millie can focus on the oatmeal. Neither of them are very talkative, so instead they bake in silence until it's time for breakfast.
"Do you want me to help with breakfast?" Leolyn asks.
"Sure, I scoop this out and you add fruit to everyone's bowl maybe?" They nod in agreement, and as the children come down, she scoops the oatmeal into their bowls, like an assembly line of breakfasts for kids with no parents. But if there was a more personal way to do it, like going around and serving everyone individually, it was less efficient.
Finally everyone is finished, and Millie gets to sit down to eat herself. She spoons out some of the remaining oatmeal and takes the only seat that's available, and it's the one across from Arden. Well, maybe I can try to convince her of something now. Still, she's not looking forward to the task. A few weeks ago Arden had been part of the wealthiest one percent, and now she's a penniless orphan.
"No," Arden says before Millie even starts to eat.
Millie looks at her questioningly. "Sorry? What do you mean?"
"I'm not giving away my stuff. It's mine."
Quickly, Millie backtracks. "Actually, I was going to ask you if you wanted to help Audie with his math. He's been talking about that quite a lot recently and I know you're good at math, so maybe you could help?" She's not sure if that was the right thing to say—Audie does need help, it's perfectly legitimate to say that—but maybe she should've tried to convince Arden more, maybe Arden would've relented, and everyone would have enough.
Millie glances down at herself; the threadbare tunic and poorly mended pair of pants that she wears every other day. Then she looks over at Arden, who's wearing the frilliest clothes that Millie's ever seen, all ruffles and lace. She looks like she's going to marry some corrupt politician someday, Millie thinks. And then that person dies and leaves her heartbroken. And she's grieving, but then she'll meet someone else, and then fall in love with them. It's not even about Arden anymore—Millie's just making up a story. An escape from this place. They'll eventually get together after all the heartbreak and it'll be a happily ever after ending.
Of course, she can't say any of that's for sure. But it'd be a nice story. And maybe there's something like that waiting out there, for her, for all of them.
She can only hope that one day she'll have a better life.
Shawn Xylander, 17—D7M
"Shawn! There you are."
Shawn lifts up his head to see Nolan approaching, and gives a smile out of reflex. He stands up as Nolan approaches him. "Hey," he says, though it's lacking his usual enthusiasm.
"Do you want to get lunch? We'll have to be back soon, but I'm sure there'll be a place nearby. Come on, let's go." He grabs Shawn's hand and Shawn has no choice but to follow Nolan away from the lumber yard and towards central District Seven, where small food shops litter the area, each deciding to be brave enough and count on the fact that there somehow be enough customers to keep them in business. Shawn likes visiting them solely for the fact that he feels like he's helping them to earn a living. Most of them aren't very good, but there are a few hidden gems.
Today, they stop at one called The Acorn. Shawn recognizes it—somehow it's stayed here this long—it's the place where him and Nolan went on their first date, ten months ago. A bit more on the expensive side, as it advertises itself as an upscale bistro based on the restaurant of the same name in the Capitol, but he'll relent today. They walk in, are shown to a table, and sit down facing each other. It almost seems like they're back to old times, when things were nice and happy. But, of course, that's not true.
"How's your day been?" Shawn asks Nolan when Nolan's been sitting in silence for a bit.
In response, Nolan shrugs. "Honestly, not super great. I'm not sure how we're going to keep up like this, Shawn. We need more money."
Of course. "I'm sorry, Nolan, I can't help. I've tried, I've asked my parents but we're really tight on money too since dad sold those few acres and now we're not turning as much profit." He reaches his hand out to place it on top of Nolan's. "I really am sorry, I wish I could help."
"Yeah, it's just…I wish that I had something else, like maybe if I could get a promotion or something, or maybe if, I don't know, I just…Shawn, we're really struggling, and I give this job my best and I don't get enough to support my family out of it. I mean, how fair is that?"
A waiter comes towards them. "Would you like drinks?" Shawn settles for just water, while Nolan orders some strange concoction off the menu with the slightest bit of alcohol dashed in. It takes all Shawn has not to roll his eyes. Nolan's been drinking more recently, most of it being what he steals from whatever authority figure managed to get their hands on twelve bottles of wine from leftovers in Eleven.
It's as if he's just trying too hard to be a badass, to be cool, and it's making Shawn tired of seeing it. When they started, Nolan was such an amazing person. He was funny, and kind, and handsome, and everything that Shawn loved about him was right there. But more recently, he's just been…like this.
"So, is there really nothing you can do? You can't convince your dad to fire someone for me?"
Shawn narrows his eyes. Really, how ridiculous does this have to get? "No, Nolan, I can't ask my dad to fire someone just so you can get their paycheck. Don't be ridiculous."
Nolan shrugs. "I thought it might work. Your parents love me, don't they? I'm sure they'll understand that I need a way to support my family."
"So does the person you're trying to fire so I can give you their salary. So do we. Dad had to dip into his and Mom's personal savings to maintain the business. We're not living easy just because we're in charge, Nolan. In fact, we're probably worse off because Mom and Dad ensure that the workers always get fair wages, even when we're struggling. They're doing it out of compassion, which is clearly something that you don't have."
Instead of answering, Nolan has the audacity to lean back in his seat and take a sip of his drink.
"Are you even listening to what I'm saying? Or do you just care about getting your money?"
"Shawn, look, just calm down. I need that money, okay? I really need it, more than the others. They don't have three siblings to take care of, I'm sure!"
"I don't think that you care if it's not about the money, Nolan. Tell me the truth."
When Shawn thought of the two of them someday ending their relationship—something he'd hoped would never happen, but accepted might—he'd thought that it would be somehow different. Like maybe they would both be heartbroken, torn apart by this but agreeing that it was for the best. But what he had never expected was for Nolan to just so casually shrug it off—literally.
"Fine. You're right."
Shawn, though he had expected this, is completely in shock. "What?"
"You're not helping me. If you can't give me what I need—because I need it, Shawn, I really do—then there's no point in continuing this relationship. I'm done."
I'm supposed to be heartbroken. That thought registers in Shawn's mind at a time when not much else does, but he doesn't bother to do anything about it. He just sits there across from Nolan (who looked as if he was expecting a response) and lets himself be numb and shut off and in shock. The way that Nolan just so abruptly cut him off—they had been growing less stable over time, more arguments, less smoke and mirrors, but it still doesn't change this at all. Shawn doesn't feel it. Nothing at all, just sitting and staring.
And then the pain hits him, a stab to his already-splintering heart.
But Shawn refuses to show that in front of Nolan, to give his—well, his ex-boyfriend now—the satisfaction of knowing that he hurt Shawn. So, while everything hurts, he forces his mouth into smile. It's so unfamiliar, something strange. Which Shawn finds to be the opposite of what he usually feels, how he usually acts.
"Well, it was good seeing you," he says, and then leaves, because Shawn Xylander is not going to let that asshole break up with him and just walk away.
Maybe it wasn't the right thing to say. Maybe he should've been more genuine, nicer; wishing Nolan the best or something like that. But at the same time, he tells himself, Nolan deserves something like that more. He deserves to be hurt after acting like that to Shawn and everyone else that he's hurt, because Shawn knows that he's not the only one who has been manipulated for their money.
His parents' office is located right by the forest, but still in the town, so it's easy to walk to. That's where he goes now; maybe he'll be excused and he can let himself deal with this individually, and nobody will need to see him hurt. That would be best.
But, of course, his parents care too much to let him disappear, which is something he loves and hates. When he walks in, his mother is in the front and sees him. And, for all her sternness and honesty, Haru Xylander knows when something is wrong. Something that he's sure she senses in him right now.
"Hey," she says, slowly walking towards him. "Is everything okay, Shawn?"
The tears start leaking out, ever so slightly. Not because of anything that's happened so far, but because of the way his mother speaks to him so kindly, how caring she is.
"Nolan, h-he broke up with me." Haru never trusted Nolan, and she was right, it turns out, which is the most heartbreaking part. "He…he just wanted the money. He didn't care about me at all."
Haru wraps him in a hug. "Hey, Shawn, you're going to be okay. It'll be okay. Shhh."
Shawn wants to believe everything that she's just said. It sounds nice, and maybe he will recover from this one day. He can only hope so. Even if he isn't able to have things the way they were before all of that happened, maybe someday. And for now, it's going to be hard, but he can let himself believe that.
Chas Avalore, 18, D4M
The waters are calm today. And the sun is bright. It makes for the perfect combination; a day where Chas doesn't have to worry about drifting too far from shore or capsizing the boat, and can just relax in the sun. He relinquishes control of the boat, sitting down and welcoming the sun as it hits his face.
Perrin and Nerida, following Chas' lead, sit down too. The Glittering Porpoise sways slightly in the waves. Maybe it's lulling them into this sense of happiness, and if so, Chas appreciates it. There's no place he'd rather be than here, with his friends, out in the open water. Nerida starts humming a tune that Vera had come up with, and the others join in. The words are silly—Vera said she took inspiration from pirate tunes and sea shanties, but the lyrics are different from any proper version of those—and Chas can't help but smile, which turns into laughter as they come to the part about "may the magic dolphins bless the glittering porpoise." Perrin joins in, but Nerida, to her credit, somehow manages to remain serious.
"Forever and ever, The Glittering Porpoise!" Nerida tries to hold the last note but her voice cracks and she's no longer able to remain serious. She bursts into laughter with the rest of them.
"Look, Nerida, we know you want to be a famous singer someday, but you might want to consider other career options as well," Perrin jokes.
"Who needs Neena Hernswell's singing gifts when you have me, though?" Nerida responds. "Oh, speaking of, Chas," she begins.
"Hm?" Please don't ask me if I'm planning on volunteering. He doesn't want to have to lie.
"You came back from the Career Academy all bruised. Was everything alright?"
Chas grins. "More than alright. Let's just say I probably saved a life today."
"Whose?"
"Hubert the Idiotfaced. He was going to be the Academy's top choice for volunteer, but…well, he'll probably still be recovering from a nasty fibula fracture in five months' time, let alone three."
Perrin makes a noise of false sympathy. "Oh dear, how terrible," he says flatly. "That's what happens when you choose to be an idiot with too much bloodlust."
"Indeed. Speaking of, who did the academy choose as the other unlucky idiot?" Nerida asks.
"Coral Langstaff," Chas responds. Mostly he's grateful that they haven't asked him about who will be the male volunteer instead. They can't know. He shrugs, trying to brush off his anxiety with nonchalance. Coral isn't terrible, and it was never a surprise that she was going to be chosen, but she's too focused on the Games for Chas to care about her.
"You mean the one who practically keeps Leon in business with all the swords and spears she buys?" Perrin snickers.
Chas punches him lightly in the arm. "We keep Leon in business, dumbass," he says. "Don't forget who got you that very nice cutlass of yours."
Perrin takes out said cutlass at that, tearing through the air. "A fine weapon indeed, sir," he says mockingly. "But alas, it is nearing noon, and if we are to make it back in time for lunch, I say we head in."
"Grab the tiller then," Chas commands. "Nerida, the engine, please." This is the kind of feeling that Chas enjoys. The three of them work excellently as a team, and the fact that he's in control, and that he's surrounded by his friends, never ceases to make him happy. Chas is here, and he's free.
Not surprisingly, the thought of his mother crosses his mind. Is she out here? Is she happier, feeling the wind in her hair and the sun on her face, just as Chas is? Does she ever think of him, of Jolene? Does she know how much they've changed? Does she know how much he misses her? Does she regret vanishing, leaving Chas and his sister with the alcoholic asshole that her once-beloved husband is now?
But most importantly: why?
He has his plans, he tells himself. Don't back out now. You've been approved as the volunteer. All you need to do is win the Games, and then after that, you'll have solved the Vanishing of the Matriarchy. He can do it, he knows that. All he has to do is…well, actually do it.
Now that he's the confirmed volunteer, he can start planning out the rest of his life. Perrin and Nerida can't know, obviously. He'd dodged a bullet earlier by them not asking him anything. But he will have to lie to them at some point, and he really doesn't want to do that. His father wouldn't even notice if Chas was caught as part of a rebel plot and executed in public viewing, he's not going to care about if Chas volunteers or not. Jolene will advise him to be careful, but she's not the type to stop him. Maybe she'll have to be the only one that he tells.
It takes only a few more minutes to get back, and the rest of Nerida's family is waiting at the dock for them. Today is their monthly beach picnic, something that everyone looks forward to for both the food and the splashing around in water.
Vera waves at them and helps to tie up the boat to the dock. With the four of them, it's a quick-moving job, and soon they all get out of the boat. Nerida gives her sister a hug and they start walking to the beach. "Leon and Perrin's parents are setting up," Mr. Iverson explains.
Chas will go to the picnic (as if he ever wasn't going to), he decides, and then he'll go and tell Jolene that he's volunteering.
After walking a quarter mile barefoot on a rocky path, they reach the beach. He can easily spot the neon-colored beach towels of Perrin's, and it looks like there's plenty of food there for them to gorge themselves on.
Vera, fortunate enough to not have anything to carry, runs towards them. Nerida follows, although her gait is made awkward by the fact that she's carrying beach chairs. Chas and Perrin walk slower, but it comes at a price: somehow, the five people who are already there have managed to eat a lot of food already.
But apart from the minor disagreements over what flavor of cake is best and the fifteen-minute-long lecture from Vera after Leon confuses orcas with bottlenose dolphins, they have a good time. It's the kind of day where Chas is most happy, except for the fact that his mother isn't here. Today would be a good day to share with her.
But he will find her. He knows that, he's certain of it: he'll sail the seas as a victor and not come back home until he finds his mother. He's going to have to kill people. He's going to have to be portrayed as something he isn't for the Capitol. He might lose his friends, not forever, but maybe for a bit.
But Chas Avalore will do all that—and more, so much more—to get his mother back.