Chapter Nine.
Chariot Rides.
Bex Redgrave, 18 years old;
Sector Three Female.
District Two had its twenty-four tributes.
And they were all finally gathered together.
Under the placid lights of the stable, horses whinnying and stylists preening, part two of the Quell had finally begun. Through the currently closed doors, all the tributes could hear the blurred edges of a million-strong crowd, adoration and the click-clack of cameras awaiting the spectacle.
Bex had her hands wrapped tightly round the handle bar in front of her, sweat nervously budding from her palms which annoyed her only further. The dress was suffocating. The weight of whatever had been piled atop her head squishing her neck into the rest of her body was heavy as fuck. She knew this was all necessary – all the pomp and pageantry – but can't it just go a little fucking faster!
She felt something bump into her shoulder and almost grateful for the distraction, she watched as her Sector partner pulled himself up onto the Chariot.
"You look uncomfortable," Bex remarked.
Phobos shrugged his shoulders and tightened his own grip round the handle-bar. It annoyed Bex to see that his hands were barely quivering at all. She didn't know why she was nervous and that infuriated her even further.
"I don't like what I'm wearing," Phobos said.
"Well – why not?" she remarked as glitter fell into her eye and she cursed her stylist to hell and back for forcing her into such a fucking awful outfit. "Doesn't it just feel great to be standing here? And out there—" she pointed to the huge doors, "—they're all here to see us."
Phobos didn't say anything. His eyes flitted down to Bex's hands and for maybe the first time since meeting him, he actually looked like he was grinning. It made Bex feel red-hot anger poking her stomach.
"What?"
"Nothing."
She took her hands from the bar and wiped them down the side of her outfit. "You shouldn't stare."
"It's ok to be nervous," Phobos said. "It's not a sin or anything."
"I'm not nervous."
"Sure."
Bex looked at Phobos and this time she properly looked at him. He was physically stronger but only a little bit taller than she was. She'd briefly heard the name Arroyo thrown around before but she'd never really considered people much that weren't within her own circle. Part of her was almost excited at the challenge of facing him later on because of the clear threat he posed, and part of her was immensely jealous that he seemed so calm and collected and here she was preaching how important it was to be the opposite to what she was actually feeling.
Story of my life.
There was a judder and the horse made a noise that made Bex jump slightly. "—the fuck?"
Phobos just laughed as the horse settled and a short man ran towards it from the sidelines, patting its head. Bex blushed even further.
"Scared of horses?" Phobos asked.
"Fuck you."
Before Phobos could respond, from the Chariot in front a girl with bright red hair turned around and locked eyes with Bex. She almost – almost – told her to shove her head up her own ass because it was natural instinct, but something held her tongue and instead she coated on a thick, false smile from ear to ear and gave a small wave in her direction.
"You don't look nervous to me," the girl said. "If anything, you look the opposite."
"We've got time. You wanna go for a walk?" Bex suggested.
The girl looked at Phobos whose face had now fallen into the weird, almost stupid stillness that she'd grown used to from the train. She nodded and Bex hoisted herself back down to the ground and the girl joined her, extending a hand.
"Syrella Tyriage."
"Tyriage?!" Before Bex could control her voice, her pitch betrayed the shock as she suddenly recognised who the girl before her was, and suddenly she felt even sillier. She coughed lightly and tried to smile even more. Bex was used to playing the game with a variety of different types of girl, but Syrella was… well a Tyriage. Sector One's tributes were the only two that came close to matching her prestige and money.
"I'm trying to shake that here. Almost like a clean slate."
"Why?" Bex said, almost astounded. And she was jealous, she suddenly realised, and again absolutely detested the fact that surrounded by these other tributes, she was already beginning to feel something that she'd never allowed herself to feel back in her own Academy. Four walls that had become so familiar where she knew the people, the tricks and how to work the strings. Ugh. "If I were you, I'd flaunt it for all it's worth."
Syrella just shrugged. "Why bother? They've all got to die anyway."
"Dark," Bex said with a laugh. "But true, I suppose." In her mind, Bex had already dismissed everyone around her for what they eventually had to be. She'd never done the whole connection thing anyway and didn't exactly plan on starting now. But Syrella had a lot of money behind her, a looooot of money, and money meant sponsors and sponsors meant—
"I'm not exactly asking to form some sort of sisterly bond or sorority, but I wouldn't mind tagging along with you for a bit," Syrella began, smiling a smile which Bex knew had to be false because in this situation, why wouldn't it be? Still – Bex smiled back. "Doesn't have to mean anything for the future."
Bex linked Syrella's arm and like she had with a hundred girls from back home, pulled her away and down the line of the chariots. "I think it's a good idea. Plus – we're all from Two and I think that means a lot of us will probably find some sort of alliance anyway. So why not start early?"
Syrella smiled again and both girls continued walking, watching the other tributes stare at them as they passed, some of them locked in conversation, others just eyeing the doors either nervously, anxiously, excitedly or whatever stupid emotion that made it ever so obvious as to what they were all feeling.
Juliet and Briel from Sector Nine were too busy arguing. Tavius from Sector Eleven was an absolute beast of a man and that chest— "His tits are bigger than mine," Bex said with a giggle, pointing at him and not being subtle about it. "Her partner looks ridiculous next to him." Gormlaith – and I mean… poor girl with that name – just looked at him and seemed to be smiling but it looked almost fearful. And then there was Brodus and Sivan who were not speaking at all, Sivan almost looking the complete opposite direction. Cute.
"Maybe we should go back the way we came," Syrella suggested.
"Maybe—"
"Giiiirls!"
The voice was shrill and immediately Bex wanted to slap the bitch that bobbed her way over to the two of them. But Bex was trying to be a little bit better at holding back the person that had dominated the Academy hall because these were not only her competitors, but people that she might be able to use, and if they were worth using, then she had to be a little bit more restrained.
"Hey there," Syrella said.
Bex followed suit with a light grin on her face. Pleasant yet not over the top. "Hi!"
"You look like my sort of crowd," Callisto Rius from Sector Eight said, moving a hand to lightly twirl a piece of Syrella's hair. Not in a creepy way, almost in a mindless girly way like they were back at school. "Your hair is to die for. I love what your stylist did to it."
"Thanks!" Syrella beamed. "This is—"
Like fuck are you going to introduce me. "Bex! Bex Redgrave. I don't know if we're supposed to introduce ourselves by Sector because we're all from Two, so I guess I'm from Sector Three, but am I fuck going to be associated with that nerdy virginal District. So. Yeah." Stop rambling. "Sector Three but District Two through and through."
"You talk a lot," Callisto said with a giggle. "I like that. Aurelian doesn't really say much." She pointed a finger back over at her chariot. The boy standing there was cute if a little awkward looking. Bex would have walked all over him had she known him back at home.
"Mind if I join you and your little walk up and down?" Callisto asked.
Bex looked at Syrella and Syrella looked at Bex. Usually, Bex didn't just allow someone to walk up to her, strike up a conversation and immediately decide they were a part of whatever group she had going. But this was different. Time went a lot faster and where she'd have preferred to spend ages formulating the perfect team, she didn't have that luxury.
Syrella was a Tyriage. Bex knew what she had to do here. And Callisto was… blonde? Internally, she shrugged her shoulders and nodded her head with a smile. "Sure."
Callisto was cannon fodder but even those sort of tributes were useful here. Plus, there wasn't much really going on there behind Callisto's beautiful eyes, which would make it easier later on.
"Yaaay!" Callisto clapped her hands together enthusiastically, arms linking with Syrella and Bex in the middle of the two of them. "I feel like we're going to be unstoppable."
Bex wanted to snort. And she wanted a shot of something. Or a drag or smoke or anything. But she knew after winning, she'd be able to do all of that and then some.
First – she had to be tribute Bex.
It was a part she'd been ready to play for most of her life.
It was easy.
Viorica Dain, 17 years old;
Sector Seven Female.
The horse's mane was golden and coarse through her fingers.
For a split-second, Viorica's surroundings almost seemed to disappear at the edges, a peace took over her and she relaxed into it, embracing the softness of the moment. Delicate fingers then tapped her shoulder and the picture began to fragment and she was pulled harshly from it.
She turned and blinked at Valdis who just grinned lopsidedly at her. "Do you want some alone time with the horse?"
Viorica pulled her hand from the beautiful yet sad creature in front of her and let it drop to her side. With a laugh she shook her head. "Jealous, hm?"
"Of the horse? Oh yeah," Valdis nodded his head, "one-hundred percent. Y'know what they say about the size of a horses'—"
"Valdis," Viorica giggled, swatting his shoulder. "But honestly, wouldn't it be so cool if you could just climb over and ride it instead? What's the point of these chariots?" Almost immaturely, Viorica kicked the plated metal, the jewel encrusted casing that surrounded them from the front and sides. She wasn't exactly trying to pick a fight with a chariot but right now, Viorica was bored, and standing still on her two feet had never exactly been her forte when there was so much going on around her.
It was the noise that Viorica found entrancing. At first, people had seemed nervous to speak to one another, as if they knew exactly who and what awaited them in a few days' time. Apparently that meant voices had to be switched off and panties had to be permanently twisted and shoved up one's ass. But no – now people were starting to actually speak to each other, and Viorica was ever so curious.
Her stylist had told her to stay put, however. And even Viorica knew that right now wasn't the time to jump onto a horse's back, or introduce her to several people she knew she'd probably end up fighting in the not so distant future. Maybe later, sure. But right now she was quite content with Valdis.
"Can you believe the noise?" Valdis said, staring at the huge doors in front of the line of chariots. He seemed almost in revelry of it and Viorica found it adorable. Something inside her, the second she'd met Valdis in the car heading towards the train, reminded her of her brother. They were completely different people but the fact that he had been reaped – regardless of whether or not he'd dismissed the volunteer who had tried to take his place – tugged at the kinder and warmer part of Viorica. The part that had gotten her into a few scraps over the years.
"It's magnificent. And I'm also totally shitting my pants right now."
"Ditto," Valdis agreed. "These pants are so tight if I tried to shit, I'm pretty sure it'd just go straight back up."
"That's vulgar."
"You're one to talk."
Viorica punched his shoulder and Valdis just smiled at her, his hands wrapping tightly around the bar in front of them, steadying himself. A determined resolve flitted across his face in that moment, preparing himself for what was to come. He'd trained, Viorica had learnt, but there was something innocent about Valdis. She'd wanted this ever since she could remember. Maybe she hadn't really thought about doing it this year, but it had happened, and being here felt like everything had finally slotted into place. The voices that tried to say no were no longer within ear-shot.
It was a weird sense of peace.
A few seconds of tranquillity passed, Viorica herself preparing both physically and mentally for the bombardment of noise and spectacle that was about to begin, when the volume picked up from somewhere in front. Where the contended hum of conversation had rippled amongst them all, a voice rose above and Viorica couldn't help but find her curiosity piqued.
"Can you see?" Valdis asked as Viorica stood higher on her tip-toes, raising her head and then leaning to the side.
"I think it's—"
She watched as a pink little man ran and kicked up dust from the very front of the procession. He squawked like an actual frightened bird and Viorica watched, entranced, as a high heel twirled through the air and collided with the back of his head.
"I told you they don't fit!"
She could only see the side of the girl's head but moving from the front, Viorica recognised the Hyland girl. Everyone knew who Svanna Hyland was. Unless you lived under a rock, they came from money and would always have money. Viorica burst out laughing as the stylist picked up the rogue shoe and skittered off.
Svanna's head disappeared to face the front once more and Viorica fell backwards, giggling with a red blush warming her cheeks. "I love it here."
"I can tell."
"There's just so much character and I know it's stupid because most of us have volunteered, and maybe even all of us have trained, but it's just so—"
Viorica realised that Valdis' eyes weren't focused on her, rather they were trained somewhere now in front, him now being distracted. Viorica bit her tongue and turned to meet the eyes of Palatine Linott and Kaia Wilder. Sector Six.
Maybe it was the part of Viorica that had always felt challenged, or maybe it was the prideful part, but suddenly Viorica felt a change wash through her. Her smile slipped and her back seemed to tingle, shoulders rising. Valdis, however, was as friendly and enthusiastic as he had been from the moment she'd met him.
"Those ones at the front are a bit loud, don't you think?" Kaia spoke, not with a smile, but she didn't seem wholly unkind either. "I don't really get it."
"Kaia," Palatine said, with a softer voice, like he didn't want to be heard. "We're all from the same District."
She shrugged. "Easy to forget here."
"What do you mean?" Viorica asked defensively. "What's wrong with District Two?"
"Nothing. That's not what I mean. I just – being in Sectors makes it feel like there's a disconnect. Plus, I don't know anyone. I've heard of some last names but that's about it."
"I'm Valdis and this is Viorica."
Viorica slowly felt her heart start to beat less. She pinned it down to simply being a tribute now in the Hunger Games. Everyone was an enemy – even Valdis, really. Although with two victors, they'd already decided it would be the two of them. She watched as Palatine awkwardly stood to the side, Kaia yawned loudly, and Valdis spoke for the four of them.
There was a lot going on and for the most part, Viorica couldn't wait to see even more.
The tributes brought challenge and Viorica had always been one to step up to the plate. Kaia and Palatine seemed like decent people, and she knew that Palatine had been one of those who had been reaped, but even then Viorica felt a sense of loyalty to Valdis that maybe she was too quick to jump onto, but had already latched itself to her.
"I think it's starting," Palatine said, watching as several officials in Capitol uniform ran from the sidelines, a roar echoing even louder from beyond the doors. "Good luck."
Viorica nodded. Valdis smiled. And Kaia didn't say anything as the two from Sector Six turned around.
She felt Valdis' hand grab onto hers and she didn't fight it.
"Good luck, Viorica."
She smiled. "Good luck, Valdis."
Vinicius Grecco, 17 years old;
Sector Ten Male.
The chariot lulled forwards and Vinicius slipped, his elbow striking the handlebar, pain shooting up to his shoulder.
"Fucking horse," Vinicius growled under his breath.
"Are you okay?"
The voice next to him belonged to Damali but so far, Vinicius had done his best to try and ignore her presence. He was still angry about the whole thing – angrier than he'd ever been in his whole life. When he'd watched plenty of other reapings during normal Hunger Games, he could understand why someone from District Three or Seven or Ten would feel furious at being reaped, but there must have also been a sort of acceptance that this was the sort of life they had, and that sometimes bad shit happened to good people.
Vinicius, as much as he did not like the Career system and could poke about ten holes in its logic, had become so accustomed to never having to worry about the side of life he had no interest in joining, that a golden veil of blissful ignorance had made the entire situation so much worse. So people like Damali – people that had volunteered for something he'd never thought he'd have to worry about – royally fucked him off.
It wasn't her fault he'd been chosen, but it was easier to blame her than some divine intervention or shitty act of karma.
When he didn't respond, part of him almost felt guilty, but that part was quickly deafened by the sheer volume of what awaited them all. Sector Ten was one of the last chariots to roll out but as the horse moved from a gentle trot to more of a canter, Vinicius didn't really have time to focus on anything other than the crowds either side of the tributes.
They were all blurry dots of colour from where he was, central to both risen seating areas, but there were so many of them, that even if he tried to focus, he couldn't. What the hell have I been forced into? A sinking feeling in his stomach made him suddenly incredibly sad and Vinicius bristled at such a silly emotion. He'd never been the sort of person to wallow and give up so as much as he hated where he was, he refused to be seen as less than simply because he was a reaped tribute amongst so many volunteers.
"They're cheering your name, Vinicius."
He could barely hear Damali's soft voice over the attacking wave of noise rippling from either side, but she was right, he could hear some people saying his name as the cameras moved towards their chariot. Fingers brushed against his and Vinicius snapped his hand away. It reminded him of the day before the Reaping with those two idiots debating what might happen. I hate being touched.
"Not on your life," Vinicius said unkindly. "Just look forwards and do your best for the both of us."
"Sorry, Vinicius. I didn't mean anything by it."
Vinicius looked at Damali properly for the first time. She was stunningly beautiful but she wasn't like so many of the girls he'd seen strut around the District. Or the sorts of Two tributes that volunteered. It unsettled him. The warmth in her eyes yet the tremble in her lip made her seem more District Ten than Sector Ten.
"Why do you always apologise?"
Her eyes crinkled into a smile. "Do I? I never noticed before."
"Yeah well—" Vinicius cleared his throat awkwardly, "—do you mind not doing it so much. It's annoying."
"Sorry."
She giggled and Vinicius' chest made a weird sort of flutter that he ignored. She volunteered. She's now an enemy. Ignore her!
He did his best to do just that as the chariots stopped in front of the President and he gave some annoying spiel about why their sacrifice was so important. As if the majority hadn't chosen to be here in the first place. Vinicius didn't mean to see himself as above so many of these people – in fact, deep down, he knew he was envious of those like Reyan Nalara or Svanna Hyland who had so much money, with family names that were held with such esteem, that they'd never be forgotten. It was what he wanted. Why he worked so damn hard. And why it was just another level to the anger he felt about where he now was.
"I'm glad that's over with," Damali said, in-sync with the lurching of the horse as they moved to the final area, the doors closing behind them, and the spotlight finally leaving Vinicius' awkward expression that he was sure had been stuck on his face the entire time. "I hope we did well."
"Will you just—" he paused, staring at Damali, as she seemed to flinch at the harshness of his voice. At that moment, he suddenly wanted to cry, and it made him so goddamn angry that he climbed out of the chariot and stalked off, hands balled into fists by his side. I'm from District Two… so why am I here when there are so many who would have loved to take my place? There had been fights for some spots in these Games in other Sectors – other boys who would have killed for Vinicius' spot. It's not fair!
"Woah, woah, woah."
His leg went from under him and firm hands gripped onto Vinicius' shoulders, stopping him from face-planting the ground and making a fool of himself. He was silently grateful but no one would have guessed it by the sour expression on his face.
He met the eyes of another tribute, dressed head to toe in a shimmering sort of pebble material that looked way too heavy for him. He was smiling and it made Vinicius want to walk away but also stay put and look at him some more. It was a weird smile.
"You should watch where you're going. Not because I'm the type to get all huffy about it, but you don't wanna hurt yourself this early on."
Vinicius' tongue felt heavy in his throat. "I – uh – yeah. Sorry."
"Ozias. Sector Five."
"Vinicius," he stammered, "Ten. Sector Ten."
He knew the name Ozias from the recaps on the train. Another volunteer. And yet there was something compelling about him – something Vinicius couldn't put his finger on.
"The quicker we're out of these outfits the better, I think."
"Yeah." Vinicius nodded. "I'm glad this part is over."
"You were reaped, weren't you?"
Don't remind me. Flickers of anger curled round his stomach but he kept them at bay and cleared his throat again, nodding. "Yeah. Just my luck, right?"
"You aren't alone in that. There's more of you. The few who shouldn't be here."
Ozias' eyes flickered around the room and Vinicius couldn't help but look out at the crowd, picking out Sivan, Sector Twelve, two boys from Sectors Six and Seven. "I guess not," Vinicius said.
"We all have reasons for volunteering. Mine is long and boring but I don't want you to feel like you're alone in this. Maybe you should go and talk to them at some point. And maybe, if it's okay with you, I could tag along as well. You seem a decent person, Vinicius. And there's nothing wrong with hating us all right now for volunteering. I would if I were in your shoes."
Vinicius should hate Ozias just like he irrationally did not like Damali. And yet as the two met eyes once more, he couldn't help but think about the few who had been reaped and the idea of talking to them over their shared situation. And Ozias – he could have walked away and let him fall into the dust, and yet he hadn't. He didn't think he was better than Vinicius just because he'd volunteered.
Before Vinicius could say anything else, a group of Capitol officials walked over towards the group of tributes, ushering those that lingered on their chariots to join the group. Ozias gave Vinicius a courteous smile and both boys looked at the front.
"Tributes, tributes. If we could have your attention. We're—"
"—manners cost nothing," a girl with frizzy hair joked. Rylan? Ryland?
The man gave her a pointed stare and carried on addressing them all. "—doing things a little bit differently this year. All will be explained if you follow me this way."
A buzz rippled across the group of tributes. Some like those that were acquainted with their Sector partners in a friendlier way spoke with them, others almost seemed to speak to themselves. Ozias walked side by side with Vinicius. He seemed excited by the surprise in store. Vinicius felt sick and irritable.
"Not enough to just have us here. Hurray for more Capitol drama."
Ozias laughed. "It's a tv show. Anything for the ratings."
"I suppose."
They arrived not too far from where they'd been standing to a huge open area, stars peppering the sky and the moon a huge, bright sphere. Cheers once again attacked the tributes as crowds either side of a red carpet, barriers to hold them back led towards a glossy building, metal doors closed tight. Cameras clicked and some tributes immediately jumped towards putting on the show. Others like Vinicius, without meaning to, clung to the support that was Ozias, almost hiding in his shadow. He didn't see the way Ozias looked down at Vinicius from the corner of his eye and grinned.
"Please take one and pass it on."
Sheets were given out and Vinicius looked down at it. His stomach curdled as pieces started to come together. Ozias' eyes widened. Sivan Arcuri cursed. Manfred Vargas laughed. Bex, Syrella and Callisto began a full-blown conversation.
It read:
Boys
Room 1:
Reyan Nalara
Phobos Arroyo
Ozias Evermoor
Valdis Solgren
Juliet Romero
Tavius Otho
Room 2:
Tayte Vasburg
Manfred Vargas
Palatine Linott
Aurelian Eldridge
Vinicius Grecco
Brodus Marcano
Girls
Room 1:
Svanna Hyland
Bex Redgrave
Kasiani Tavarro
Viorica Dain
Briel Novack
Gormlaith Rivière
Room 2:
Syrella Tyriage
Ryland Mercer
Kaia Wilder
Callisto Rius
Damali Zahrat
Sivan Arcuri
"Fuck," Vinicius whispered.
"Looks like we aren't together," Ozias remarked. "Make sure you come find me, though. You're the first person other than Kasiani I've spoken to and as I said, I'd be interested in speaking to the others in your position."
When he nodded at Vinicius and walked away, he almost called for him to stop. He suddenly didn't want to be alone.
Before he could, however, the tributes were shepherded forwards, cameras clicking and people screaming but the tributes were not allowed to stop as they progressed down the red carpet to the doors that were slowly opening.
"We're living together?!"
"I call dibs on the biggest bed!"
"This is fucking awesome!"
So many voices and all Vinicius could do was blink back angry tears that threatened to spill. He didn't want to be here. He had so many plans, so many what-ifs, so many things to do that would never be done. He wanted to punch something but knew he had to keep it all down, play it smart, do what needed to be done.
"Holy shit!"
Everything went silent as two figures moved from behind the now fully opened doors, standing side-by-side, watching the twenty-four tributes from District Two huddled together, ready to join them in their new accommodation.
Jasper Apatite and Sterling Milano.
"Fuck," Vinicius repeated.
What the hell is going on?!
Aaand we're in the Capitol!
As much as I loved introducing these tributes, this was so much more fun to write, and I know that the rest of the Capitol is hopefully going to be hella entertaining too. I'm so happy with the premise.
Unlike Forever Neverland, each tribute is not going to get two Capitol POVs, they'll only get one like I used to do with my old stories, so with every POV, more and more alliances will develop rather quickly and once an alliance is fixed, I'll put it in the author's note and on the blog.
These POVs also are going to be longer as there's only three per chapter and I had a lot to say. Vinicius neared the 2000 mark. Oh well.
Confirmed alliances:
Syrella + Bex + Callisto
Valdis + Viorica
Maybe now that the story is in the more interesting part, some of y'all can come back and let me know what you think? ;D I'd appreciate your thoughts!
Thanks guys.