Celsus Pheonix, District 2
My life is so perfect. I hate to brag, but I've got enemies out the wahoo.
I've got over 100 methods to kill them. And the funny thing? They think that they're my friends. As if. I woke up, and then dressed in grey jeans and a striped shirt, with my favorite beanie. You know, the one that makes me look hot. As soon as I walk out of my house, Tally Pickenheigger walked up to me.
"Hey Celsus!" she said, winking. I looked over and imagined myself snapping her neck right there. But too bad, she's too pretty for that death. Her blonde hair sashayed back and forth as she walked.
"Gonna volunteer?" she asked, pouting. I shrugged.
"You're really good at the knife throwing. You should try out for our Career training group." she said encouragingly. Truth is, I'm better than "really good." I'm superior. I've killed animals before just practicing. I make myself smile at the fact that I'm a shoe in for this Games year. Our escort takes the stage, and I realize that I've subconsiously walked to the center for the Reaping.
"Well, hello District 2!" She says, too cheerily.
"Our tributes, due to complications, were picked randomly! And this year's are... for the female tribute, Arabeske DuPointe!" she says. A orphanage trash girl starts shedding tears at her Gamed state. Whatever. She is going down. But then a shrill voice rips my vision of torturing Arabeske.
"I volunteer!" it says, and my competition takes the stage. Oh, no. Not her.
About a month ago, I was hunting illegally for target practice when I spied the orphanage's bully Phenilia training Livaria, the girl who volunteered. She had deadly aim and was willing to kill. This is bad. I forced myself to breathe slowly and calm down. Our escort, Wesseline, coughs into the microphone.
"If Livaria will please take the stage..." Livaria does. The escort knows her? Great. Favoritism. No matter. I'll charm this Livaria girl easily. Even though she's 16, I've got this.
"And for the male tribute, Celsus Pheonix!" she yells. No volunteering needed! Not that I could. Our District being a Career District, only one volunteer was accepted each Hunger Games. I took the stage and waved back at the crowd. My little "fan club" from school consisting of Tally, Ermine, and Jesselle. They all fainted when I waved. I examined my fellow tribute. She was tall….ish, with emotional hazel eyes and slightly wavy brown hair. She walked like she trusted herself, but no one else.
"So…." I prompted. She glared at me.
"Look," She said. Oh, dear. So much for 'winning her over.' "Let's just get this over with. No attachments, okay?" she said, turning to the smudged window pane. I nodded, hurt. Apparently people here can't be charmed.
Problem.