ii. a land divided — prologue

juno argostoli. 15.
master of ceremonies.

The new President is such an attention whore.

Sure, it's kind of Kiernan to appoint me to the position of Master of Ceremonies even though I'm only fifteen, but I just know that little shit did it for his own gain.

He always walks around lamenting about how "awesome and swag" he is, but as somebody who actually knows Kiernan, I also know that I, Juno Argostoli, am at least a thousand times more awesome and swag than he'll ever be. After all, my dad is Archeron, god of the seas. Kiernan's dad is some lame fuck who forgot to pull out and doesn't even have a name. Yeah, yeah, both our dads left us and we should probably bond over our trauma or whatever, but that's fucking boring. Besides, my dad left to do cool sea god things while Kiernan's dad left because he needed to get some milk from the store. That's honestly boring as fuck, and yet another reason why am more worthy of being President than he ever will be.

But I digress… I'm not bitter at all. No, I am so incredibly excited to interview President Alcraiz about lord knows what. I can already tell it's going to be so much fun. You can tell by the tone of my voice that I am not at all being sarcastic right now.

He sits across from me on the Capitol stage wearing a tacky white suit with a clip-on tie. He's not nearly as handsome as I am, but then again, nobody can be.

"Thank you so much for sitting down to talk to me, Mr. President," I say to start the interview.

Kiernan leans back in his chair with a smirk. "Yeah, yeah. It's whatever. Now hurry up and interview me; I have a meeting soon."

I sigh. He's the one who arranged for this interview, there's no need for him to be so fucking rude. "Let's talk about the Games then!"

"Well, the first thing you need to know," Kiernan begins, "is that they're going to be unlike anything that you've ever seen before."

"The President says that every year," I say with a slight yawn. "I want to know, Kiernan, what makes this year's Games different from every other year."

"They're actually scientifically proven to be the most awesome and swag Hunger Games in Panem's history." Kiernan responds, seemingly unfazed by my valiant efforts to throw him off guard. "And yes, I mean there's actually been science involved. My friend Vikenti crunched the numbers this morning."

"Are you sure Vikenti's just a friend?" I tease him. I'm not sure that Kiernan has a crush on Vikenti, but based on the way he blushes like a stupid idiot around him, I definetly have a hunch.

"Yes, I'm a hundred percent sure that Vikenti is just a friend." Kiernan scoffs. "He's not my best friend, and I'd never make the mistake of dating a Saros like my sister did."

"Do you even have a best friend?" I sneer.

"No. I'm too busy being the President," Kiernan fires back. "How does that have anything to do with the Games, anyways?"

"You're the one who brought Vikenti up," I remind him. "But yes, go and talk about this year's Games. I'm sure our country cares much more about that than they do the boy you don't have a crush on."

"They should care about Vikenti, he's going places, but whatever." He stammers, his brows furrowing. "As I was saying, this year, the Hunger Games will be more than just the murder pageant we've know and love. This year, the Games are going to define our very nation."

"Yeah, I'm going to need you to stop being so vague." I sigh. This kid really is a lost cause, isn't he. Good thing I'm making a fool out of him on national television, as he deserves.

"Well I can't just give you spoilers," Kiernan says. "Just trust me on this one, okay?"

I nod. "Fine."

Before I can even ask another question, Kiernan gets up out of his chair and walks off the stage. He doesn't wave goodbye to all of his adoring fans either, he just fucking leaves. I don't understand what the fuck this kid's problem is, or why he even has the guts to think he's a good President.

"Sorry about that," I whisper into my microphone. "I don't know where he went."

Another boy steps onto the stage. I instantly recognize him as Atra Methusael, Kiernan's bodyguard. I don't know why he even needs a bodyguard, but for some reason, he does.

"Yeah, Kiernan's real fucking busy 'mmkay?" Atra announces with a sense of urgency. "You should just be lucky you got the chance to talk to him for a little bit."

"I wasn't done with my interview." I scowl. "Why does he think that he's allowed to just run off and do whatever he wants?"

"Cuz' he's the President, duh." He rolls his eyes and walks off stage.

Just like that, I'm alone in front of a crowd of hundreds of people who don't seem confused the way I am. It's like the entire nation has some sort of an inside joke, and I'm not in on it.

Life's hard when you're a demigod, I guess. Maybe someday I'll understand.


Author's Note: Hey guys! Did you miss me? I hope you didn't miss me too much, because I'm finally back with another chapter of my SYOT! This time, we heard from the arrogant and annoying Juno Argostoli as he struggled to keep up with President Kiernan's impressive and incomprehensible levels of swag. Let me know what you think about this budding rivalry in the reviews!

Thank you so much for sending in such dope Tributes, by the way. I've closed some of the slots, but I still have 5 more to fill, so I would appreciate some more submissions. I'm going to set a tentative deadline of March 1st, so I better see some more Tributes before then.

Bye bitches,
Kiernan