Quiet people have the loudest minds.
-Stephen Hawking
Studio 4B, June 16th, 11:00 am
Christopher Price (17) POV
District 2 male
Why in the living hell did I agree to this? Okay, maybe because I can't say no to my mom, but damn, I wish I could. When Mom asked me to follow her to her photo shoot today, I was expecting to just watch as they took awkward staged pictures of her. I've gotten used to watching them take pictures of her. Never in a million years did I think I'd be asked to be in any of them.
"Christopher, why don't you get in some of the pictures?" asks the photographer. "You're dressed nicely for the Reaping anyway."
I look up from the book I'm reading for school, shocked. I can't be in these pictures. What if my friends saw, or people from training? I'd be ruined.
"I can't, actually," I say, searching my mind for an excuse. "I have to... I have to, um..."
"He has to visit his girlfriend before the Reaping," my mom cuts in. She knows how embarrassing it would be for me. She's always said that just because she's a model, she doesn't want me to feel pressured into following her footsteps into a similar field, which is why it's my main goal to win the Hunger Games or die trying. Both of which are incredibly possible. I came in second place for the competition to volunteer, but the head trainer wants me to volunteer next year. I haven't told anyone about it.
"Right!" I say, grabbing my backpack. "I have to go do that. Thanks for offering, though."
"Tell Rachel I said hi!" Mom calls after me as I leave.
As I'm walking out of my mom's section of the studio, I run into my dad and my stepmom, That Bitch. Once upon a time, when my parents were still together, I know That Bitch's name, because her and my mom were friends, but since my dad ran off with her years ago, leaving my mom and I alone, I've since forgotten. He's honestly such an ass; he's only a proper father when it's convenient for him to be, like when my mom's photo shoots are more successful than That Bitch. When I see them, I look away, trying my hardest to avoid eye contact, but they see me.
"Topher!"
I practically bolt from the building and run down the street before slowing down and heading in the exact opposite direction that I was just running in to Rachel's house. The Reaping isn't for almost three hours, so we'll probably go and hang out with other friends while we're waiting. I'm bummed that I can't volunteer until next year, but at least it leaves me with another year of training to help get better prepared for the Games.
Rachel doesn't live too far away from my mom's studio, so I'm at her house pretty soon. As I'm walking up to her door, she glances out her living room window and opens up the door, standing in the doorway.
"Hey, what's up?" she asks, leaning in for a quick kiss.
"I was just at the studio with my mom," I explain. "They wanted to take pictures of me and her together, but I said I had other things to do. Besides, I wanted to see you before the Reaping."
She smiles up at me, and I take her hand, walking away from her house.
"What do you wanna do?" she asks.
"I think Lyell and Courtney wanted to hang out," I say.
She gives a sharp sigh through her nose, and I wince too.
"I know," I say. "I don't like Courtney either, but she's dating Lyell, and we have to respect that. Besides, We know they're not gonna last."
"I guess," she says. "She's just such an idiot."
After about 10 minutes, we make it to Lyell's house, and he's sitting in his front yard with Courtney. Lyell is my and Rachel's best friend, but a few weeks ago, he started dating a girl from training, Courtney 's pretty, which is most likely why Lyell went after her, but she's also incredibly naïve and stupid. Not that he would take advantage of her, but she's said that people have in the past. It makes me feel sort of bad for her, but something about her just rubs me the wrong way.
Lyell, however, has been my best friend ever since I can remember. He's only a few months older than me, but he just turned 18. We became friends when we both started training at the age of 8 and were paired up as training partners. We pretty much did everything together up until recently when we got girlfriends, but we still do spend a lot of time together.
"Hey, guys!" Lyell calls. "What's up?"
"Not much," Rachel says, as we sit down in the grass with them. "Any plans for after the Reaping?"
"No," Courtney says, tossing her hair. "It's honestly such a waste of time. If I'm not volunteering, I don't understand why I have to go."
"What if you're Reaped and no one volunteers?" I ask. "And what about the outer Districts?"
"I don't get why they're not all volunteering either," she says, crossing her arms. "Everyone should want to be in the Games. I'd love to, but I wasn't picked to volunteer."
"At least me and Topher have one more year left," Rachel says. "Maybe we'll get picked."
"Actually, Tremor asked me to volunteer next year," I say, sheepishly. Tremor is the head trainer at the Academy; he's the one that chooses the volunteers.
"Topher, that's great!" Rachel exclaims.
"What did you say?" Lyell asks.
"I told him I'd do it," I say, grinning ear to ear. "I'm just really anxious; I can't believe I have to wait a whole year."
"So don't," Courtney says, simply. "Just volunteer this year. What could go wrong?"
"I mean..." I trail off. "It could work."
"Think it through," Rachel says, pleading with her eyes. "Tremor wants you to volunteer next year for a reason."
"She's right," Lyell says. "You should just take the next year to brush up on your skills."
"I guess," I say. "You're probably right."
But inside, I'm already planning exactly how I'm going to step up to the stage.
The Steele Tavern, June 16th, 1:00 pm
Alecto Caraway (18) POV
District 2 female
I down the rest of the drink Mia slid in front of me and grin triumphantly, flashing a mouthful of straight white teeth. Bastien claps me on the back, and I give him another large, sarcastic smile.
"Another?" Mia asks, raising a bottle.
I shake my head slowly, raising my hand and crinkling my nose. The one drink I had was more than what I wanted coming in; I want to have a clear head for the Reaping so I can volunteer somewhat gracefully. The final battle of the girls' bracket to decide on the volunteer was intense. The girl I had to fight in the final two was last year's backup volunteer, but her sister- who wasn't even being considered for the Games- beat everyone up to the stage, but placed sixth in actual Games, being killed by the Victor; some underdog from 10. Jenna Kentwell was out for blood, and I beat her by the skin of my teeth, mostly due to the extra help I got from my mother at home.
"Alecto, it's cause for celebration!" Daryl exclaims. "This may be the last drink we'll all have together."
My lips curl up into a smile, and I can't help the laugh that escapes. "Please."
Mia tops off Bastien and Daryl's glasses, and takes mine away, dropping it in a sink in the back of the bar, collecting tips as she goes. Two years ago, Mia decided that training for the Games was too much for her- she just couldn't stomach the thought of killing people for fun. She dropped out of training much to the dismay of her parents, and started tending bars here at The Steele. It's kind of a lame bar, but she gives us free drinks.
Bastien is basically the opposite of his cousin. He's been training since the age of 8; same as me, and he was really disappointed when I was picked to volunteer and he wasn't. He got out in the semifinals, beaten out by Topher Price, who was then beat by Romulus Ambrosia, who's volunteering alongside me. Sad as he is that he'll never be in the Games, Bastien is excited for me. Personally, I'd rather have gone into the arena with Topher or Bastien than Romulus. Bastien because we're already friends, and we know how to work together. Topher simply because he's attractive, and while I haven't fallen for him, the general female population of District 2 has, so it wouldn't surprise me if rich Capitolites decided to sponsor him based solely on his appearance.
Mia comes back with Bastien and Daryl's drinks, and as they grin up at her, taking the first sips of their second drinks, I flash back to the last time we were all together like this; happily drinking without a care in the world. It was during the party we threw for Daryl when he was accepted into the Peacekeepers. I had a few shots too many that night, and though I don't remember anything past midnight, Mia told me later that I was flirting with every boy in the tavern, and I kept throwing my arms around Daryl, telling him over and over again how proud I was of him. My voice- already cringe-worthy with a stutter- was made almost incoherently slurred thanks to the amount of alcohol in my system.
It was probably the most I ever spoke since the accident when I was 5 that permanently changed my speech patterns. I hit my head on a heavy slamming door, giving me a horrendous stutter that no amount of speech therapy could fix. But I coped. When I wasn't training at the District's academy or going to school, I stayed home with my mom, who taught me more about weapons and survival than the academy ever did, giving me the edge that I needed to beat Jenna. She taught the 12-14 year olds in the academy, so I had no qualms about her giving me extra help. My dad, when he wasn't fulfilling his Peacekeeping duties taught me various written codes so I wouldn't have to strain to speak. My friends learned the codes alongside me, especially Daryl, but I was never afraid to speak around my parents, even with a stutter.
As Daryl and Bastien finish their drinks, the bells for the Reaping go off, signalling that we should head to the Square. Mia tells them to just leave their glasses on the bar, and she takes off her apron, revealing torn jeans and a baggy T-shirt. I envy her; she's got no one to impress, while I'm stuck in the only formal piece of clothing I own. The dress hit my knees, with a gray chiffon skirt and a black lace top. My top priority once I got on the train would be to change.
The four of us leave the Steele as a group. On the way, we run into my dad, quite literally. As I pass him, he whispers a piece of advice.
"Be confident when you volunteer. First impressions count."
I give him a curt nod and a semi-smile, and we set back off. Once we reach the Square, Mia, Bastien and I go to the sections for the 18-year-olds, while Daryl goes to stand with the other spectators. At 19, his last Reaping was last year. We don't wait around long before Sasha Balyregan, our escort of 8 years, mounts the stage.
"Good afternoon, District 2, and welcome to the Reaping for the 227th Hunger Games," she says, speaking clearly into the microphone. "I don't see a problem with starting with the girls, so ladies first!"
Sasha reaches a long-nailed hand into the female's Reaping bowl and pulls out a slip of paper. She unravels it, then reads the name into the microphone.
"Colleen Glass! Do we have any volunteers?"
Most of the older kids of Reaping age shift their eyes in my general direction, and I take a deep breath, willing my voice to come out steady and clear.
"I volunteer!"
Elated, I practically skip up to the stage, taking my place next to Sasha, smiling at the camera that pans over to me.
"What's your name, young lady?" Sasha asks.
"Alecto Caraway," I respond promptly.
"Pleasure to meet you, Alecto," she says. I smile slightly, and nod. She crosses over to the males' bowl, and grabs another slip. "Unless someone volunteers, the male tribute this year will be Octavian Whip!"
Before Romulus has a chance to volunteer, Topher bolts from the 17-year-old section. What is going on. This is not how this was supposed to happen. Not that I'm mad, but this is wrong.
"I volunteer!" he shouts, before Romulus- or anyone else, for that matter- can object. "I volunteer as tribute!"
He makes his way up to the stage, and I give him a withering glare. It shows on his face that he sees it, and he averts his eyes from me.
"And what's your name?" Sasha asks him, once he's taken his place.
"Christopher Price," he says, smiling first at Sasha, then the audience, and finally the cameras.
"Nice to meet you, Chris," Sasha says. "May I call you Chris?"
"Actually, I prefer Topher," he says, smiling apologetically.
"Ladies and gentlemen of District 2, your tributes for the 227th Hunger Games!" Sasha proclaims, backing up for us to shake hands. "Alecto Caraway and Topher Price. Happy Hunger Games, and may the odds be ever in your favor!"
The Justice Building, June 16th, 2:30 pm
Christopher Price (17) POV
District 2 male
Unsurprisingly, the first person in to visit me after the Reaping is the Head Trainer.
"What the fuck, Topher?" Tremor booms. "You were set to volunteer next year! You couldn't have just let Romulus have his fun?"
"Romulus can volunteer next year," I say.
"He won't be eligible next year!" he yells.
"Oh," I say, shrugging. "Oops."
"If you come back from the Games, I'm gonna kick your ass," he says, taking on a more lighthearted tone. "But I have a lot of faith in you. Try your best, alright?"
"Of course," I say. Before I know it, Termor is escorted out, and my first visitor is gone. My mother replaces him, and he immediately wraps her arms around me, hugging me tighter than she ever has before. We stay like that for a long time, before she finally pulls away.
"Topher, why?" she asks, looking up to meet my eye. "Why did you have to volunteer?"
"Tremor wanted me to volunteer next year, I was just speeding up the process," I tell her. "Besides, I need the money."
"No you don't!" she objects. "We have plenty of-"
"I'm not taking your money," I assure her. "I need a lot for what I want to do, and I want all of it to be from me."
"What's your plan?" she asks, wearily.
I consider not telling her. After all, I had originally wanted it to be a surprise revealed at the pre-Games interviews. But if there's anyone that I can trust not to tell anyone, it's my mom.
"I want to have the money to buy Rachel a ring," I say, watching as a grin spreads across her face. "I love her, mom. I want to spend the rest of my life with her."
She bursts into happy tears, smiling and crying and hugging me all at once. While she's in a fit of hysteria, I beg her over and over again not to tell Rachel, and she promises she won't. Immediately after, a Peacekeeper takes her out, replacing her with Rachel and Lyell.
"Courtney's outside," Lyell says, before I can ask.
"What were you thinking?" Rachel asks. "Courtney's out there thinking that this is a good idea."
"Just trust me," I say. "I have a good reason."
"What's that?" Lyell asks.
"I can't tell you," I say, apologetically. "But you'll know. Just make sure you watch the interviews."
Rachel walks over to me and slings her arms around my shoulders, pulling me in for a hug. I kiss her on top of her head, and she looks up at me from under her eyelashes.
"I love you," she says. "Don't forget that, no matter how cute the girls from 1 and 4 are."
A Peacekeeper comes in to take them away. He leaves with Rachel first, giving me a second alone with Lyell.
"Make sure nothing happens to her while I'm gone," I instruct.
"Of course," he says. "I know how much she means to you."
In the blink of an eye, he's gone. Part of me is expecting my dad and That Bitch to come visit me. All of me is relieved that they didn't.
The Justice Building, June 16th, 2:30 pm
Alecto Caraway (18) POV
District 2 female
I'm not expecting my parents to visit me, since they both have heavy post-Reaping obligations with their jobs, so it comes as no surprise when Mia and Bastien come in to see me first.
"D-Daryl?" I ask, noting his absence.
"Peacekeepers aren't allowed in," Bastien says. "He's out there talking to your dad."
I nod slowly, trying to play back the scene in the bar; maybe the last time I'll ever see Daryl. It makes me hurt slightly inside to think I might never see him again, but it's just all the more reason for me to return home.
"Do you have a token?" Mia asks.
I nod, showing her my dog tags, engraved with the words I live by.
Swift as the wind
Quiet as the forest
Conquer like the fire
Steady as the Mountain
They nod approvingly, and we spend the rest of their visit in silence. Everything that should have been said was said earlier, and I just don't feel like talking about Topher right now. I don't feel like talking at all. Honestly, the three of us just sitting in comfortable silence is all I could ask for, only made better if Daryl was here as well. I'll probably be forced into talking on the train later, and if I'm not, there will almost definitely be the loud sounds of dishes clanking, and Topher talking with Sasha and the mentors. It's nice enjoying the last bit of quiet before all hell breaks loose.
Thanks a million to MidnightRaven323 for Alecto and Lulubell2495 for Topher!
And yes, if you go to the tribute list in the third prologue, there's some names on the list that don't match the list on my profile. The list in the prologue is who is thought to volunteer, the list on my profile is the actual tributes.
Questions!
1) Who do you like better, Alecto or Topher?
2) What did you like about them?
3) What didn't you like about them?
4) Any predictions?
-No one says no to Gaston!