A/N: Hello again! So it was a rough week with essays and tests, so I'm sorry about posting this late, I was actually planning on posting this on my birthday, since it's been a week, I'd call this a late birthday presents to me =p
Of course, and I'd like to introduce you all to a new friend of mine, EYESviolet , who's very sweet, and she'll be helping me beta-ing for the rest of this fic :) I have to thank Violet for helping me with my poor grammars- because without her, I'd totally be a laughingstock =P so *thanks* *thanks* *thanks*!
BTW, there's a slight alteration to the story with some of the scenes moved to the next chapter since I got overboard... again. (4000 or more words *frown*)
Anyway- a reminder: feel free to criticize or whatever- I'm all ears. :)
Disclaimers: I do not own Glee or Hunger Games.
"Blaine! Stop fidgeting, it's almost time," David groaned at his jittery friend, occasionally looking back at the podium.
"I can't help that I'm nervous. I'm getting cold feet now… I totally forgot how malicious-looking the escort is…" Blaine admitted, his voice hushed with tremors.
Someone behind Blaine sighed dramatically. "Oh, Blaine, but you said you're not scared about going."
"No, never that; I just can't wrap my head around the idea of spending time with him for the next... I don't know, four weeks. He's quite daunting you kn-"
"Shh!" Wes interrupted, staring intently at the animated escort standing at the podium- he's currently sharing how blessed the kids are to be given the chance to participate in the Games. He knew well enough that his friends were staring daggers at the conceited man, so full of hate that they wanted to tear him limb from limb.
All of the Warblers straightened up when they become aware of the end of the speech approaching. "-So… back to business. Let's…"
Wes spun around and plainly threw Blaine's arm in the air.
"NOW!" Wes shouted, just as the words "...HEAR IT FOR THE VOLUNTEERS!" rang out.
Blaine instantaneously caught on with a rush of adrenaline.
"I volunteer as tribute!" Blaine bellowed, looking much confident than he had felt moments before. Blaine noticed there were disturbances from left and right; some girls were having a cat fight to stop someone from raising their hands at his left…and a few other boys of the same age as Blaine on his right, who'd like to volunteer, looked bewildered as they lost the moment, their hands shot up only halfway.
Sorry.Blaine couldn't help but think. It's for the greater good anyway.
"Looks like we have a fighter here." The escort, Trey, said it as if Blaine was getting in some kind of fighting ring (or maybehewas), looking smug as he watched the ongoing fight at the girl's side of the enclosure.
Blaine shot Wes a pained look.
"You won't break your promise?" Blaine suddenly asked, seeking verification.
"Cross my heart," David assured solemnly, Wes nodding from his side.
"…and you'll bring a big enough hovercraft?"
Jeff answered airily from behind, "I'd break into the President's, if you like."
Blaine nodded swiftly, and then suddenly smiled arrogantly as the camera lights found him.
Blaine had always been a great actor.
"Wish me luck then!" Blaine smirked lopsidedly in his twisted character mode, which the Warblers approved beforehand since cruelty seemed to sweat out from every pore of Blaine, in this character- and that would help Blaine in gaining personal favors from Trey.
Only Wes and David laughed along to Blaine's enthusiasm. It seemed that the rest of the Warblers were again taking cover in the crowd.
After a few playful punches at his shoulders, and some quiet reminders from Wes about getting on Trey's good side, Blaine strode towards the podium. He used these precious moments well, calculating silently.
If things go as they were planned, in a few years time, they'll reclaim everything that's supposed to belong to the people.
And Monford? Well,let's see what we can do when we finally get to that point,Blaine thought absently as he humored Trey and the crowds.
Kurt's mind was filled with copious curse words in several languages as he watched Rachel walking up to the podium from her row, looking as shell-shocked as he was.
C'est des conneries.
Kurt had never been this anxious before, with the exception of his father's latest heart attack. The thunder-like sound from the audience was all but forgotten and Kurt was swallowed by his ocean of thoughts, the book still fresh in his mind. Kurt had mentally and physically prepared himself for some nasty killings in the arena, but now with his best friend in the picture, that task seemed to be a formidable chore.
Kurt easily fell into thinking about the most horrible questions- such as…on how he'd react if Rachel was trying to kill him in the arena.
Will he kill her?
No. Kurt decided unwaveringly and immediately banned any thoughts on killing her.
I will never kill her. Not even then.
"Outstanding! We haven't had volunteers for two reapings and suddenly we have two this year. Though I admit, I expected someone more… vicious." Sue Sylvester frowned at the two, pulling Kurt's sleeves in a rough way that earned a glower from him.
"Rachel, what are you doing here?" Kurt hissed out of the corner of his mouth, still all smiles after the repossession of his calmness.
"Joining the Games, nothing much, so what are you doing here?" Her abnormally sweet smile mirrored Kurt's, arms folded primly at her chest.
"You didn't tell me anything in that sentence, Rach, but I never pegged you as this type- 'cause I don't think people can sing or annoy someone to death - and why the hell you haven't mentioned any intention of such suicidal mission?"
"Neither have you. Or else we wouldn't be up here, with the distant prospect of being forced to murder each other, abandoning any morals, ethnical notions-"
"Whoa. Whoa. Whoa." Sue Sylvester scowled and squeezed between the two, effectively cutting off any further conversations. "No quiet chit chats; you don't have time for any of that. Save it for later. I need your name first, Lady," she said, facing Kurt.
Kurt rolled his eyes. "Ms Sylvester, it's Kurt Hummel and I'm not a lady," he seethed.
Sue Sylvester brushed that off. "I'll call you Porcelain, and it's not Ms. Sylvester… CoachSylvester. And you, young lady?"
"Rachel Barbra Berry."
"In short… The Jew." Sue Sylvester snapped as Rachel flinched at her harshness.
"Don't be so forceful with her," Kurt rebuked sternly.
Kurt didn't really know how to deal with such a situation. He helplessly searched for his father's eyes in the mass of adults for any reassurances. When his green met the blue, Kurt saw his fear reflected in the orbs. He then looked for his step mother's next to them… Similar, but more desperate. Kurt went back looking for Finn's… but noticed he wasn't looking out for his stepbrother anymore. Finn was looking at Rachel.
Kurt can see it- it's worse. It's devastation.
Kurt's heart ripped for his brother. All in one day, the Hunger Games already took away Finn's stepbrother, and almost everyone in District 3 knew about Finn's crush on Rachel. ("I don't love her!" Finn once denied with a blush during one of Rachel's sleepovers.) So now, due to some warped sense of Fate, Finn even has to lose Rachel to the Hunger Games…
Kurt definitely knew that this wasn't one of the best days of his step brother had experienced.
He saw so many people, with so many different emotions, but what Kurt saw most in the crowd was of relief— relief that they don't have to draw ballots from the ball this year. Only those who were out of the Games, and didn't have any children involved in the reaping, smirked at their obvious discomfort. Kurt all of a sudden felt peculiarly small on the stage.
His mind wandered off; he decided to appear to be on top of the Games instead of looking like a mere boy, shocked at his friends' sudden want to be part of the Games. He needed to win this.
Yet, Kurt wished he was anywhere but here.
There's the fluttery of movements of those around him but Kurt felt oddly out of the present until Sue Sylvester asked about the two tributes' decision on who they'd like to invite as their mentor. There were no surviving ones. Rachel instantly excused the both of them and pulled Kurt to the back of the stage for discussion. Kurt swatted away Rachel's firm grip.
"I want one of my dads to be my mentor," Rachel said in a clipped tone that brought Kurt back to focus.
"No," Kurt countered in a thick voice.
A lot of things might not be going according to plan today, not as he assumed they would, but he's not going to let this part change too. He has to give an opportunity for his dad to decide if he's coming with them to the Capitol for the medicine. Only the Capitol could fix his failing heart. Not even Rachel could stop him.
"Kurt! I want my dad to come with me, it's my last chance to spent with him If I'm going to die. Why don't you just let me choose the mentor?" Rachel pleaded, hoping to get her own way as she usually did with Kurt.
Her attitude was what caused Kurt's unexpected outburst of emotions.
"What about me then?" Kurt's face contorted with pain, barely sucking back a sob as he whispered, and the hint of grief in his tone was becoming prominent. "I want to invite my dad as mentor. He got this heart attack a few months ago just as I've told you, and the doctor said that he's not going to last without any of the high-tech medication from the Capitol, and the best way is to bring my father there to be treated."
You might be going to die along with me, but at least your parents aren't going to have a heart attack and die too," he hissed through gritted teeth.
Rachel cringed. She could hear his underlying accusation between the words, accusing her- for the first time- of being selfish.
Kurt's tone turned soft again. "My dad didn't promise me anything about being my mentor, so we can just invite him first. If he doesn't accept it, then we can invite one of your dads, but please please Rachel, at least give me the chance to ask my dad. I beg of you."
"But…" Rachel sucked in a breath. "Don't you worry that your dad might have a heart attack if anything bad befalls you in the arena? Or even be distraught for the rest of his life because he couldn't bring one of us back? Or worst, both? As a good son, shouldn't you be considering this?"
Kurt hadn't thought of that so he got slightly panicked. However, he retorted.
"Well, that's not good for your dads either. It's even worse. My dad at least has Carole and Finn, but your dads only have each other and you. You are practically their precious baby. You expect they won't be troubled if one of them is our mentor? As you've claimed about my dad? Huh, then you aren't really a good daughter either."
"So what do you expect me to say? In such a situation, if any one of us may have their dad as mentor, the other would loathe the decision. If it was so, it would have to be me who's going to bring their parent, since yours might have a heart attack," Rachel replied hostilely.
Kurt, all of a sudden, saw Rachel in a different kind of light. Rage was like a tornado in him.
"Just so you know, I won't loathe, I'd only tear your throat apart the first chance I've got if you're forcing me into doing this… Rachel," Kurt said coldly, any remnants of friendliness already gone. He stepped away from her, eyes forlorn.
Rachel looked exceptionally dejected then.
In the front of the podium, the two tributes could see that Sue Sylvester was contemplating on whether she should break up their fight. The two of them both knew that if she intervened, their privileges might get torn away.
The Hunger Games tore a lot of relationships apart, especially family's. But it wasn't supposed to shred their friendship to pieces too. That would be letting the Capitol win, and entertaining them, to boot.
Kurt wasn't about to humor them further, so he turned away from the cameras, nudging Rachel also into doing so.
After such slight shift and short space for thoughts, Rachel sighed, finally conceding to Kurt. "How about this, let's compromise. We aren't bringing our fathers to the Hunger Games, so as to leave them out of this mess… but we have to choose another candidate together as our mentor. Do we have a deal?"
Kurt paused. It's much fairer, but still not the best choice that he'd like.
He sought for his father in the audience again.
His eyebrows raised in question as he caught his father's eyes.
He must have understood what his son was asking about, because Burt gave an almost imperceptible slow shake of his head, eyes sad, and he instinctively held Carole closer.
That's settled then.
So Kurt swung back to Rachel and held out his right hand for a handshake.
"Right. We have a deal."
It was Mr. William Schuester who they chose, in the end.
The two tributes argued about a lot of potential candidates but they weren't chosen since all of them might have given unfair advantage to the other.
Why were they choosing Mr. Schuester? You may ask.
Mr. Schuester was their rather disheveled Spanish teacher in McKinley and he's the only one who had the guts to stand up to Coach Sylvester's wrath. Kurt and Rachel agreed that they don't want to be forced to stoop low under Sue's supervision and Mr. Schuester must be the best selection they've got. To add to all that, Mr. Schuester was the kind of teacher who won't desert his students' need, so he'd accept their invitation.
And he did.
At the end of the day, after the anthem and a few more exchanging of glances with their respective families, all three were in the custody of Coach Sylvester, and they all filed into the train that was arranged by the Capitol. The three of them said nothing and the conversation was only supplied by Coach Sylvester's whine about how the tributes choosing the most disgusting, awful, rude mentor they could have, and they should be shameful that they are now one step away from death because of this wrong decision.
Kurt and Rachel didn't get to meet their families, because both of them are volunteers; the Capitol expected them to bid their goodbyes before the reaping- another thing that Kurt blamed Rachel for changing, since if there's only one volunteer, they'd have still given him time to meet his family for one last time. As for Mr. Schuester, the fact that his parents were dead didn't do much for that either.
"Bye dad… Bye Carole... Bye Finn... Bye District 3..." Kurt murmured his goodbyes to the window after he was left alone in his compartment in the train. How ironic.Kurt thought as he reminded himself about Rachel. She's the reason for his doubts; he's not so sure if had any chances to win anymore.
Tears poured down his face, blurring his vision.
He wondered what his dad was doing.
He wondered if Finn had driven his Navigator back to the house.
He wondered if Carole's cooking tonight.
He wondered what happened to the book that was left in his car.
Kurt's eyes were shaded with tears, yet he thought he saw a pair of green eyes staring from somewhere outside the window, back at him.
A moment later, the whole team left district three by train, heading for the unknown, with the volunteered tributes' hearts heavy with dread.
"Kurt!" Rachel called frantically. There was the sound of frenzied steps in the corridor.
As soon as he heard the voice, Kurt at once recoiled back to his room and snapped the door in place.
"Kurt- would you please come out? I need to talk to about everything," Rachel begged with her hands positioned on the door.
"No, leave me alone," Kurt snapped from the other side of the door.
It had been like this for a few hours already. Kurt would try to sneak out from his room and Rachel wanted to "explain" and apologize for her behavior on the podium, all of which had resulted in Kurt's retreats back into his assigned room.
Kurt had tried his every hand in avoiding Rachel, but she kept coming at him, single-mindedly wanting them talk things out like they used to as friends.
But the problem was, Kurt didn't know if he wanted her as his friend anymore, and he didn't want to talk to this selfish, self-centered girl when he was at the brink of losing control, since he might yield submission to physical violence, something written in black and white in the rules of Hunger Games that was forbidden. Outside of the arena, at least.
"Please, Kurt. Will you come out? We haven't talked for a while now. Can we at least talk about something? Anything regarding to the Hunger Games? Or feelings? Or, or… the book? Mr. Schuester? Tactics?"
"Hmm, how about let's discuss how selfish you were out there to even try to ask me to agree to invite your father as mentor?" A pound vibrated through the door, it sounded as if Kurt hit the door with his fist.
"I know, I know, I'm sorry, I don't know what I was thinking out there, but I didn't get to ask, right? So please forgive me."
"No, you don't even deserve my forgiveness. You're the one who's asked me to follow your order, while I told you my father needs it so much more than yours does. Such poor understanding you have for me, is what I decided. That no, maybe we shouldn't be called best friends in the first place."
"You have to understand the reason for why I joined the Games!"
"Sorry, I don't know about that, not even when I coincidentally met you on the podium. By the way, you're not in any position for asking me to understand your situation; you didn't even try to understand mine."
"Just just… Just listen to me, okay? I had good reasons for why do I joined the Games." Rachel knocked desperately again, hoping for Kurt's attention.
"I joined the Games because I want to have my shot at Broadway at the Capitol…"
"Figures," Kurt mumbled angrily from the other side.
"…and to find my birth mother," Rachel finished.
Kurt stopped his movements briefly at the sentence as the words sank in.
"What were you saying?" Kurt asked.
"I want to meet my birth mother and she's at the Capitol," Rachel confirmed.
Rachel didn't hear any response from Kurt, so she assumed he's asking her to continue. "You've always knew that I'm a product of surrogacy, right?" Rachel whispered pathetically and swallowed the lump in her throat. "I love my dads, but I still think a lot about my birth mother, sometimes. Whether if she's beautiful and if she's missing me, still loving me… whether she wanted to meet me, to see how her daughter has become."
Kurt, on the other side of the door, had listened closely. He knew what she was feeling, because to a certain extent, his choice in joining Hunger Games was also done in love for his mother.
Kurt was at no liberties in saying what she did was irrational and wrong.
"I made a promise to myself when I was eight, that I would, one day, achieve my dreams. Even if I was asked to die afterward, there would be no regrets. Three dreams: I want to be a Broadway star, I want to meet my mother, and I want to have my dads and my mother to be proud of me."
I want to find my mother, but I don't really know what my mother looks like except that she's a Broadway star at the Capitol. That's why I want my dad as my mentor, 'cause I don't recognize her. I joined Hunger Games… that's all because I really want to meet her, and be the Broadway star like she is."
Rachel laughed grimly as if she thought it was ridiculous.
"I know now that my intentions are childish, compared to yours… so I'm sorry, very sorry. It was selfish of me for just asking... but please, Kurt, would you forgive me? I can't stand losing my best friend."
It took a while, but eventually, the door opened and Rachel found herself enveloped into Kurt's warm hug, both of them crying over everything. Kurt stroked her back comfortingly as she cried out all her fear of the prior expectation of losing her best friend, her insecurities and for the coming death; and Rachel would pull Kurt closer by the hem of his shirt to give him the comforting hug he had longed for— for weeks, to tell him that he wasn't alone and everything might turn out okay for his dad.
It's not some kind of happy resolution, but that will do.
Kurt said sorry to his friend and Rachel cried, thankful and happy that they could still be best friends, repetitively said how sorry she was for what she had said on the podium and how she would be a much better person.
"But you'd tell me everything next time right? And I mean no lying, no covering, so we'll have our trust back. We need to think in sync, or else we won't last in the arena…we need to watch each others backs." Kurt wanted Rachel to promise.
Rachel nodded her affirmation. "And you?"
"Promise."
Kurt received a beautiful smile.
"Hey, before I forget." Rachel spent the whole time talking in Kurt's room that she had forgotten. She handed Kurt a wooden necklace.
"What is this?" Kurt asked curiously.
"I dunno, someone in a cloak asked me to give this to you." Rachel shrugged nonchalantly.
Kurt looked carefully at the circular wooden necklace. It was handcrafted, detailed with a beautiful design of a water lily, a lace like pattern surrounding the flower's silhouette. It brought him back to some past memories, but Kurt didn't remember much even if he scribbled down every piece of memory he had. Flowers were rare inside District 3; therefore this is the closest thing that came close in reminding him of the flowers he used to see before the bloodbath. It's been 8 or 9 years. "Are you sure it was meant for me?"Kurt asked.
"Yeah, that person said to give you as a token."
Kurt, at this comment, raised his eyebrow. Something familiar was nagging him with this information, but Kurt was too tired to think about it.
Later that night, the two best friends sat side by side in front of a television with everybody else (with Sue Sylvester and Mr. Schue arguing) in one of the train compartments to watch the recap of the reapings across Panem; the two of them sizing up their opponents.
"How are we going to kill that guy?" Rachel asked fearfully as she saw a hulk of a boy from District One volunteering from the screen.
"No idea," Kurt replied, and "Oh, my God," Kurt would say as he saw a beautiful blonde and a handsome boy with light-colored hair were reaped in District 4.
"They surely won't be hard to fight; they look more like a pair of personified, gleaming trophies."
Sue also sporadically gave some unhelpful remarks. "Did you see the pair of tributes from District 8? They are definitely of Asian descent. How repulsive."
There are a lot more tributes worth noting, but Kurt remembered one particularly well due to uneasiness.
"This guy's too haughty for his own good." Rachel pillowed her head onto Kurt's shoulder when the District 9 tributes came up.
In Panem, a lot of districts don't have volunteers due to their high living standards but District 9 was the opposite of the norm. District 9 was famous for its volunteers. There were abundant numbers of volunteers fighting for being the tributes of District 9 in the past two years. It's not because they are poorer than other districts, but it's because of people's homelessness. The problem of insufficient housing in District 9 was known widely in Panem, but Capitol seemed unwilling to alleviate such a predicament. In result, District 9 had a lot of volunteers; they would all like to win and own a house in the Victory Village instead of living in the slums they used to.
Kurt and Rachel had always despised the District 9 tributes in view of the fact that it was the only district had ever won the Hunger Games in the past two years. Those winners weren't human beings, they are monsters.
But when Kurt saw the boy volunteering from District 9 this year, he immediately knew something was off. The boy looked strong and arrogant despite his short height, with his facial expression half-crazed, but what Kurt noticed was the carefully gelled hair and the eloquent, witty response the boy had replied with as he bantered with his escort, with a light air of supremacy none of the previous winners had. Shivers crept up his arms when the pair of compelling hazel eyes stare right back at the inquiring team of District 3.
There is really something off about him.
"Mind this guy, Rach, I think there's something unusual about him," Kurt murmured directly into Rachel's ear as he memorized the boy's name.
The name Blaine Anderson flashed across the television.
TBC