The festivities start the day before the reapings with an exclusive dinner at President Snow's Mansion. They serve plates of the best food Capitol has to offer, but they aren't the reason why people practically gouge each other eyes out for invitations. They go to rub shoulders with anyone who matters, and as Gamemaker, that night no one matters more than me.
The next day I'm trashed. My room at the Game Headquarters has a nice view of the Capitol hills, but I personally prefer the view of the private lake on my mansion. This is my third year as Gamemaker. For fifteen years I grinded my teeth and worked as a producer taking shit from hacks like Augustus Lars, who had the brilliant idea to place the Games on a winter arena. Where half of the tributes frozen to death and everybody hated. Then after spending two years playing save, showing to President Snow that I know what I'm doing, I now can finally put my mark on the Game.
I order in some food, a ton of hangover medicine and start to watch the reapings. Watching it alone is part of my creative process, I take notes and plot out possible storylines before I run them with the producers responsible to create them. I have twelve producers, one for each district, their job is to build trust with the tributes and manipulate them to follow the stories I'm telling. It's a hard job because most of the tributes are difficult, especially the older ones. An old tribute from an outline district? An absolute nightmare to work with.
The reaping ceremony starts with District 1, and it goes as usual. A couple of fourteen-year-olds get picked and the other ones race to the stage to volunteer for their place. District 2 goes next and Cato Thrasea is reaped, he's the son of Gallio Thrasea victor of the fifty-first Hunger Games. I laugh out loud when a single kid tries to volunteer at his place but Cato kicks him in the chest throwing him off the stage. This tribute has "victor material" written all over.
The ceremony gets boring after the last career is chosen, a plain face male tribute from District 4. Finnick Odair, one of my victors, is mentoring him, that automatically will get him a dozen sponsors. An eighteen-year-old from 11 gets reaped. Great, I'm sure he's going to be a breeze to work with, at least the little girl seems malleable.
District 12 is the last one. Hopely Haymitch will nosedive from the stage again so this ceremony can have something tv worthy. The escort from 12 reads the first name, Primrose Everdeen. We got lucky, now we have two twelve-year-olds, and this one looks even more malleable. Some other girl, an older one, screams her name. The peacekeepers try to hold her but she keeps on screaming. "I volunteer as tribute!" I practically spit my beverage. There isn't a volunteer from 12 since ever! Now that's something to work with. The little girl screams her name. Katniss. She must be her older sister or something.
The girl is a brunette. She has a good looking face, although her breasts could be bigger, and doesn't look like she has a foot on the grave like most tributes from 12. There is potential here, with some work we can make her a tragic hero, or even better a villain. The escort takes out the male tribute's name, and there is another twist. A boy also volunteers.
I'm standing up now, a volunteer from an outline district is rare, but two is unheard of it! Now that's great tv! And this boy is definitely hero potential, he's blonde, strong and handsome. Oh, and he pushes the escort aside to hug the girl, genius! My phone starts buzzing instantly, it's a message from Plutarch Heavensbee, my top producer, "I want 12."
Right after the anthem ends someone knocks on my door. I open it to see two security guards. "President Snow wants to see you."
I'm tense all the way to the mansion, President Snow usually sends me a good luck gift on overture day and we have lunch after the finale. He never talks to me right after the reapings. The guards lead me to the greenhouse behind the mansion. As soon as I enter it, I'm overwhelmed but the scent of roses. "Seneca Crane, I so glad you could join me today," President Snow says.
I have met the President on several occasions, but I still feel intimidated by him. He orders me to sit on a chair by his side. "You seem to have an interesting crop this year, Seneca," he says without looking at me, with a pair of scissors he plucks out the thorns of a white rose.
"I believe that too, sir," I try to maintain my voice even, "a son of a former victor always brings good ratings."
"I'm not talking about him," he stares at me, "I'm talking about the two volunteers from District 12." I swallow, even though my mouth feels full of sand.
"Yes, 12 did really stood out this year." I wish I could ask for some water.
"And who are you considering as their producer?" He puts the rose with a basket full of other white roses, which gives me a second to recompose myself.
"I was thinking on Plutarch Heavensbee," I answer.
"Plutarch Heavensbee, he's on a winning streak since Johanna Mason, isn't he?" The way he says Plutarch's name makes me wonder if he knows something about him that I don't.
"Yes, sir. We rarely have an opportunity to work with interesting tributes from 12. I wanted my best producer on it," I lie.
President Snow gives me a cold smile, "Did you?"
Maybe I made a mistake by lying, but backing down now would be worse, "Yes, sir. I did. " The President stares at nothing, as if he's lost on his own thoughts. I feel awkward with the silence, I want so much for this conversation to be over.
"Tell me, Seneca, have you ever been on the outline districts?" That catches me by surprise. Every year I either go on vacation on District 4 or go skiing on District 2. There isn't much to do on the other districts.
"No sir, I haven't," I say.
"There's a lot of poverty there, a lot of anger too," he continues "Did you notice that not a single person on District 12 clapped when those children volunteered?" I was so excited about the tributes that I didn't notice. It is true, the people on 12 stayed silent and did some weird three finger salute to the tributes. "I like you Seneca, so if you allow me, I'll give you an advice. Pay close attention to the story you're telling this year. Make sure it is the correct one."
I feel immensely better when I get back to the Game Headquarters. I'm late for my meeting with the producers, but I let them wait some more. There's no way I'm going to pick Plutarch for 12, he will stay with District 2 and be happy about it. I still need someone to produce the volunteers, the way they act makes me assume they are lovers, that's a complication we never had to deal with. Lavinia Avita is the best option. She's a competent producer, has a victor under her belt, even though this victor is Annie Cresta, and could convince a tribute to jump off a cliff if I asked her.
The producers' room has several screens all turned on recaps of the reaping, showing the tributes from different angles. In the center, a huge round table stacked with files. When we get a tribute, our research team gets all the information available about them, we use it to help with our stories, and as material to get them to trust us. My twelve producers joke around while placing pictures of the tributes in four different categories: victor material, tragic hero, villain and body count.
"Alright body, let's start with the victor material. Who we got first?" I sit on one of the chairs with my feet on the table and watch them scuffle with the files. I do not miss being a producer. At all.
"From District 1 we have Glimmer Amberwing, seventeen," a producer says. A school picture of her shows up on the main screen, and the girl is absolutely gorgeous. "School report says she has high social intelligence skills, is pretty good on melee combat, specially fighting with spears." Good, she's probably smart enough to know how to play the game. "She's also the tribute with the highest amount of pre-game sponsors, since a rumor started to circulate that she's a virgin." Damn Cashmere, already playing dirty.
"Okay, who's next?" I say.
There's some murmuring and a picture of a girl smirking appears. "Clove Armige, eighteen. School report says she has a high IQ, but the psychological report states that she shows signs of psychopathy." No surprise there, all tributes from 2 are psychos. "She also has a history of disciplinary suspension from school for torturing animals and even went through a public lashing for throwing a knife at the back of one of her classmates. The kid suffered a punctured lung." That's good, we can work her to backstab the other careers, maybe even have her as a villain victor.
"What about the other one from 2?" Plutarch gets his folder.
"Cato Thrasea, sixteen, he's the son of Gallio Thrasea who's also mentoring him. Has an average school record, and the psychological report says he is impatient and prone to bursts of rage." Now we have a problem. Violent outbreaks are great for tv, but they also mean an unpredictable tribute and a hard to control victor. The last thing we need is another Johanna Mason.
"We have to be sure he's workable, Plutarch why don't you talk with his father and see an approach we can use?" Plutarch looks at me with a mixture of surprise and anger. He's smart enough to know that if he complains right here, in front of the other producers I'll have to ask him to leave. And there is a line-up of potentials just waiting to take his place.
"I'll talk with Gallio while the tributes are on the makeover stage," he says.
A picture of a red-headed girl appears on screen, and I'm confused. She didn't stand up at all in the reaping, I only remember her because is my job. Lavinia gets her file. "From District 5 we have Ray Nightwillow, fifteen, I know what you guys are thinking, boring, ugly girl, completely unremarkable." We laugh, and I'm curious to see where she's going with this. "Well, but her school reports shows that foxface here has an IQ of 175, by far the highest of all tributes."
"Okay, that's impressive. Let's get her to form an alliance with the tributes from 3, maybe we'll get some tech-related kills, the arena this year is perfect for that. We rarely have those and they usually make on top ten kill counts." I let one of my new producers with 3 and a more experienced one with Foxface. We had genius kids before, they, more often than not, believe that they're smarter than they actually are.
"Now we have the monster from 11." Another producer gets his folder. "Tresh, T-resh, these outline districts have just awful names." Plutarch takes a quick glance at the file and states that the tribute's name is Thresh Riverberry. "Anyway, he's eighteen years old and the strongest of all the tributes, standing at 6'6" and weighing 220 pounds. He worked on the crops since he was seven and even got a special permission to leave school and work full-time to support his younger sister and elderly grandmother with dementia after he lost both of his parents." His life's story is boring and it's depressing me.
"But can we work with him?" I interrupt.
"Yes, his supervisor told the research team that he's the perfect worker, keeps to himself and does as he's told without complaining or asking questions." Good.
I stand up and catch the producers' attention. "While I watched the reaping I saw this finale on my mind. Our victor fighting to the death in the middle of the arena, while snow falls from the sky covering the ground. When it's over, we see the victor looking down at his competitor's blood, bright red on the white snow. But this finale will depend on the work we put in the minute the tributes leave the train and get the earpiece implanted."
"That's great but what about the star-crossed lovers from 12?" Lavinia asks. "None of the other tributes is getting the same amount of media attention, people love them." This name has to be Caesar's work. I did have a different story in mind, the two tragic lovers that die together because they can't bare to live without each other. But President Snow's advice keeps coming back to my mind.
"Okay, Lavinia, what do you got on the girl?" A picture of both tributes appears on the screen.
"They have similar files, both are sixteen and are below average students, they got caught sneaking out of school several times, and have barely passing grades. The male tribute is on the school's wrestling team and works on his family's bakery. The girl lost her father on a mining accident and has a younger sister, the little girl she volunteered to take her place."
I knew it was too good to be true, "So that's it, they are boring?"
Lavinia smiles, "Almost, they got in the waiting list to get the government stated house the day after the girl's fifteenth birthday, something rare even on a backward place like 12. However, our informants told us that the girl gets a little too friendly with an eighteen-year-old named Gale Hawthorne. Which they say isn't a relative, although I do have my doubts." They show a picture of him, he's broad-shouldered, handsome and a present from heaven.
"This Gale is the missing piece that we needed to tell their story. Lavinia you'll get 12. Don't introduce yourself until the first day of training, just listen and try to learn as much as you can about how they think, and what angle we can use." I'm ecstatic with myself.
"So, what are you planning to do with 12?" Plutarch asks.
"We're going to make them kill each other."
A/N: I got the idea of using producers to manipulate the tributes from watching UnReal and it was the final piece to encourage me to write this story. So, what do you guys think about the change?