Chardonnay Salvatore, 18
District 1
If someone would have told young Donnie Salvatore that in ten years she would be practicing ballet with her mother by choice, she wouldn't have believed it. It was no surprise that Tiffany Salvatore was thrilled to have a daughter. All of Donnie's baby pictures featured her wearing pink tutus with bows in her hair, and from the moment she took her first steps, her mother began training her to be the dancer she never could be.
"Point your toes, Chardonnay," she would say. "Shoulders back."
Donnie hated it. She hated the forced femininity, and she hated being controlled and ordered around. Her mother said she lacked discipline. Donnie said her mother lacked fun.
Meanwhile, her father was mourning the fact that he was given a daughter instead of a son. He seemed to be in denial, and took every opportunity he could to make Donnie as close to a son as he could. They would sit together each year and watch the Hunger Games, cheering when the District 1 tributes made kills and screaming in anger when they died. He taught her how to wrestle and burp.
And Donnie hated that, too. She hated living with the knowledge that she could never be what her father wanted her to be; hated that nothing she could do could ever make him proud.
But eventually, Donnie learned to love both sides of herself, because she learned how to combine them. All her years of ballet had given her the resilience, strength, and grace to train in martial arts. She learned to combine the graceful moves from ballet with her mother with the sharp self-defense techniques that she learned from her father to create a fighting style that was completely her own.
This was why Chardonnay Salvatore was going to be the next Victor of the Hunger Games.
She didn't like the idea of volunteering at first, but the more the trainers at the Academy as well as her parents nagged her about it, the more open she became to it. She definitely had the skillset to be a clear contender for the Victor's crown. Not to mention, maybe if she won, her parents would finally be able to stand being in the same room together.
On her last full day before the Reaping, Donnie did what always calmed her down: conditioning. While she had hated ballet when she was a kid, she now loved everything that it did for her. She loved that it made her a better fighter, and taught her discipline and patience. The only downside was having to practice around her mother.
"Grand pliƩ, Chardonnay," her mother said, taking a deep breath. "Really get down to the floor, and keep those heels planted."
Donnie resisted the urge to grab a hold of the barre on the wall while her thighs screamed as her muscles stretched. Her mother knew that the deep squat in second position was her biggest weakness, and she never let her forget it.
"Do you think I can have some time to myself?" Donnie asked, still struggling close to the floor. "I want to get some independent work in."
"Okay," her mother said. "Don't push yourself too hard. Last thing you need is an injury before tomorrow."
"I know," she said, eager for her mom to leave. "I'll be careful."
With that, her mother left the studio and closed the door softly behind her. Immediately, Donnie went to the speakers and changed the music from the soft piano music her mother liked to the alternative music she preferred. She finished her warmup before moving on to her own style. Her graceful sweeping motions eventually shifted into punches and kicks. The shift was so subtle and slow it was impossible to tell when dance became martial arts.
After two hours of practice, Donnie decided to stop and get ready for lunch with her family; well, half of it anyway. She took a shower before changing out of her dance clothes and into a soft yellow dress with white sandals. It was one of the few dresses she owned. She detested wearing them, but she didn't want to start a fight with her mom.
Once she was ready, she, her mother, her stepfather Carter, and her half-brother Jedidiah set out to go to a restaurant for lunch. The walk wouldn't be too bad if she was making it by herself, but everything seems to take twice as long with a four-year-old in tow. When they got to the restaurant, they were seated at a table outside and got to talking while they were waiting for their food.
"So, are you excited for tomorrow?" Donnie's mother asked.
"Yeah," she said honestly. "I'm happy to be going with Amos."
"Shame you two won't work out, though," her mom said, pity in her eyes.
Donnie had to take a moment to recalibrate. Her mom was under the impression that she and her friend Amos were dating since they were such close friends, and she hadn't bothered to correct her. The truth was, Donnie was a lesbian. But ever since her dad had left her mother for a man, she had had a clear dislike for gay people. So Donnie knew better than to clue her in.
"Yeah, it'll be sad for sure. But the two of us are District 1's two best chances this year."
"You look pretty today," Jedidiah piped in.
"For once," Carter said under his breath.
Donnie's mother and stepfather were a match made in heaven, since they seemed to have the same hatred for Donnie's androgynous self. With her buzzed hair, muscular arms, and dislike for skirts, makeup, and dainty jewelry, it was clear that she was not the proper lady that she wanted them to be.
After lunch with her mom came dinner with her dad, which required a costume change. To see her dad, she switched into a white button down shirt tucked into straight-legged black pants with a red blazer. Rather than going out to eat like she had with her mom, dinner was made by her dad's husband, Sterling, and the three of them ate together on the back deck.
"It's so crazy to think that the next meal we'll have together will be in Victor's Village," Sterling said. "How are you feeling?"
"Really good," Donnie replied, a grin starting to form on her face. "I'm excited to meet everyone and see the Capitol."
"And to win!" her dad exclaimed. "Baby girl, I am so proud of you."
Her dad smiled at her and reached across the table to touch her hand. Her chest felt warm as they shared the moment together. Genuine compliments were few and far between from her parents, so she was sure to cherish them each time they came around.
Donnie spent her last night in District 1 at her dad's house, since that's where she felt the most at peace. She did her best to have as relaxing of a night as possible, and she did so by lighting a candle, reading a book, and doing an elaborate skincare routine. While she wasn't necessarily a vain person, Donnie definitely understood the importance of making a good first impression. Looks aren't the most important thing in a tribute, but it was no secret that the sponsors in the Capitol showed a strong preference for the attractive ones.
Finally, her eyelids began to feel heavy, so she decided to try to sleep. She would need to be as rested as possible for the Reaping. She took one last look at the outfit hanging up on the back of her door before clicking off her light and closing her eyes.
Amos de la Renta, 18
District 1
At the end of Pierre Reese's Victory Tour, Amos de la Renta received the best news of his life: he had been selected as District 1's male volunteer for the 100th Hunger Games.
Amos wasn't a bloodthirsty monster like some wannabe volunteers in his District. No, Amos had one focus and one focus only. Mastery. Every day, he strove to be the best version of himself that he could possibly be, and the way he figured he could do this was by learning as much as he possibly could.
Some people liked to tell him "everyone is good at something, but no one can be good at everything." He thought that was bullshit. Anyone that was bad at something simply needed to try harder. Amos never stopped trying. He wouldn't quit until he was the best he could be, and the best he could be was the best.
Amos received the news of his selection at the end of a particularly intense training session. The bell chimed, signaling the end of the day, and the head trainer Callista Lingham asked him and his best friend Donnie Salvatore to see her in her office. It was there that she told them that they were allowed to decline if they wanted to, but they were her top choices to represent District 1.
Amos was walking on air as he headed home that evening. He couldn't wait to tell his family that he was chosen. His father and two older brothers had all wanted to be their year's volunteer, but none of them were chosen. His dad had been the backup, AJ hadn't tried hard enough, and Adrian was turned down in favor of a boy whose father had more pull.
Who would have thought that Amos, the youngest, weakest, quietest, and least masculine of the de la Renta boys would be the one to make it?
"So, I have some news," Amos said that night at dinner. His parents and brothers looked up at him over their food, and he cleared his throat softly. "They picked me. Um, to volunteer this year."
Immediately, the dinner table erupted with congratulations. His father got out of his chair to slap him on the back, and happy tears sprung to his mother's eyes.
"That's my baby bro!" AJ said, grinning from ear to ear.
"Great job, Amos," Adrian said, his face barely showing a proud smile.
"I'm so proud of you," his mother said, dabbing the corner of her eye with her napkin. "So, so proud."
"So who's the girl?" his father asked, taking his seat again.
"Donnie Salvatore."
"Good choice, good choice," his dad said. "Hey, when are you gonna nail that Donnie chick anyway?"
"Dad!" Amos protested, embarrassed on her behalf even though she wasn't even here. "Donnie and I are just friends."
The truth was, Amos had really never considered Donnie as anything but a friend. She was pretty, sure, and very easy to talk to, he just didn't see her that way. In all honesty, Amos couldn't remember ever having a crush on a girl, or anyone for that matter. He just never really considered anything as trivial as love. He never had the time.
The next day, Amos went to the training academy with a new spring in his step. Word had traveled quickly, and he couldn't go more than a couple of minutes without someone he didn't know approaching him to congratulate him on being chosen. He had never been one to receive very much attention, and it threw him off to have everyone suddenly so interested in him.
Eventually the attention wore off, and he was able to continue a regular day of training with minimal interruptions from people eager to congratulate him and wish him luck. Amos couldn't help but laugh. Didn't everyone realize that the Games were still six months away? There was no use getting too excited about it now.
Amos never felt more at home than he did when he was training. As he danced around the gym with a trainer practicing his skills with a sword, he felt all of his anxiety and stress melt away, allowing him to focus on one thing and one thing only: the fight. He chose to fight with one of the most advanced trainers at the academy in order to really challenge himself, and a challenge it was. The match was going on for an absurdly long time, and Amos almost allowed himself to get distracted by the sweat that was beginning to run into his eyes. He didn't, though, and he was finally able to disarm the trainer and point the tip of his sword at his neck.
As he caught his breath, Amos became aware of the crowd that had formed around him. Once his breathing was back to normal, he lowered his sword, and the crowd around him broke into a soft and respectful applause. He blushed and looked around, scanning the faces around him until he made eye contact with Donnie, who gave him a subtle smile and a thumbs up. He grinned back at her and immediately became less self-conscious than before. His friend had always had a way to bring him back down to Earth when he needed to.
Amos continued his afternoon of training as usual. He mostly worked on becoming the best swordsman he could be, but also worked with knives, knowing that it was always smart to have a backup plan just in case. At the end of the day, he went back to Callista's office to sign the paperwork confirming that barring any unforeseen circumstances, he would be volunteering on Reaping Day. He was excited before, but after signing his name, it was solidified in his mind that this was really happening. Amos was going to be in the Hunger Games.
And he wasn't going to let anything come between himself and the Victor's crown.
Cashmere Gilmore, 52
Victor of the 64th Hunger Games: District 1
On the afternoon of the Reaping for the 100th Hunger Games, Cashmere Gilmore left her house in a peach satin dress that she had designed herself. The dress was floor length and had spaghetti straps and a plunging neckline with a slit up the right leg, and she paired it with white strappy heels. Some fashion critics in the Capitol liked to say that Cashmere dressed too young for her age, but she paid them no mind. She never understood why women were expected to stop having a sense of fashion when they got older, especially with women who aged as gracefully as herself.
Cashmere headed to the Reaping dripping with confidence and excitement. Not only did she look great, but she was about to mentor for a Quarter Quell. Her brother, Gloss, was extremely jealous and practically begged Augustus Braun to switch years with him, but he refused. Even though there was no twist this year, being in the Capitol for a Quarter Quell gave a mentor major bragging rights, and she loved being able to hold that over her brother's head. It wasn't like it was Cashmere's fault that it happened to be her turn in the rotation and not Gloss's.
Cashmere mounted the stage and took her seat next to Augustus, the other District 1 mentor for that year. Once the tributes were selected and once they were saying goodbye to their families, the two of them would talk privately about which mentor wanted to handle which tribute.
At 2:00 sharp, District 1's escort, Shimmer Fairscape, played the customary video explaining the origin and meaning of the Hunger Games, featuring the first President of Panem, President Ravinstill. Following that, she called the names of some children in the District, but two volunteers seamlessly made their presence known.
The female volunteer introduced herself as Chardonnay Salvatore, and she was decked out in a cheetah-print coat over black pants and a white blouse, finished with red sunglasses with heart shaped lenses. Cashmere was in shock. Her style was so unlike that of most girls in District 1, including herself, but she was strangely pulling it off. She felt indescribably connected to this girl with the strange fashion sense for no reason other than the fact that she was so unlike her.
The male volunteer was Amos de la Renta, a last name that Cashmere recognized immediately. His family produced a line of hair products for the Capitol called Shine! that Cashmere herself used on occasion. This boy definitely came from money, but as he stood on stage in his tan polo and black pants and dress shoes, it wasn't immediately obvious. He was a contender for sure, and Cashmere hoped that Augustus thought so as well, given how drawn she was to Chardonnay.
Shimmer had the two shake hands, which they seemed more than comfortable doing, and before long they were all on their way to the Capitol.
Thanks to ladyqueerfoot for Donnie and FabulousAbby for Amos! Everyone's sponsor points will be up on the blog soon, I just need to get around to sitting down and calculating it all. In the meantime, here are some questions to answer in your review if you feel like it:
1. Who did you like better, Donnie or Amos?
2. What did you like about them?
3. What didn't you like about them?
4. Thoughts on Cashmere?
5. Any predictions?
