"You know, the films were great and all, but they didn't show the true story," a man said to his peers. He pushed his glasses up and made his way to the front of the group, blocking the massive screen with his rather broad shoulders. Always the dramatic type, he pulled out a notebook with a flourish and held it high with his massive forearms. He was met with jeers and chiding from his closest friends and a look of disinterest from a lot of the older group. "You guys didn't even let me explain it."
"I for one think it's a great idea," a woman spoke up. She stood up from her chair closest to the massive screen and walked over. "Ten years since the war and all that we've got to preserve the memory of our earliest friends."
Another man spoke up, lean and with a bit of a sneer, but his gaze immediately softened as he looked to the two of them at the front. "We still don't know what this is, Terrence!"
Terrence shifted his gaze to his favorite frenemy. "If you must know Briar, not all of us are into your films and avant garde projects! Some of us care about what happened to the first of us! Like Nerida."
Nerida moved from her standing position to the stage and shut off the films playing behind them. "It's for Shelby. And it's for Layla."
The wave of disagreement slowly dissipated into a reassuring round of concurrence. Most had their opinions and many were willing to keep theirs silent just that once. Ready to listen, more of them came forward, proclaiming their support. "One last question from me," Briar said as he took to the stage. "What do we do after this?"
"Publish it," Terrence said bluntly. "Like you did with your films. Everyone has a right to know different sides of history."
"I'm only doing this if everyone else is okay with this," a blond woman holding two children nodded.
"All in favor?" Terrence asked.
At least five dozen hands raised up initially. By the end of thirty seconds the others raised their hands. All eyes turned to the sole holdout, who finally put his hands to the air as he held a necklace in his hands. "Okay if we're all in agreement I propose we divide into groups. The Hunger games is a long story, but we might as well start with what knowledge we can get from here."
"Some of us have lives to get back to!" An older man griped, clutching the hand of a similarly aged woman.
"This is all voluntary," Nerida said calmly. "But since District 6 is rebuilt and building new and improved transportation services, we can all meet here in 14 if need be. There are enough of us that we all don't need to be here."
"Right," the older woman nodded. "So where do we begin?"
A young man cleared his throat. He was strongly-built, black haired, and more than a little weary. "That burden falls on my family. And we begin with the first."
