Chapter 7: The Pessimist and the Optimist

District 3: Wyre Hanson

Wyre.

Wyre.

Wyre's eyes were squeezed shut, and metallic music pounded into her head. It was so loud, so vicious sounding it distracted her from her sorry excuse for a life. She enjoyed the wickedly loud music that made her head ache.

She turned it up, as she thought she heard someone calling for her. The screaming sounds thundered and she wondered if her ears would bleed. Was that possible? Wyre wouldn't care if it was.

"Wyre!" Her brother Xavier hissed, ripping her earphones off. Someone really was calling for her. Dislodged from her ears, the music that she had playing was so loud it could be heard clearly as Xavier held them in his hands.

Wyre opened her eyes while Xavier opened the curtains. She squinted, and her hands quickly moved to shield the sunlight from streaming directly into her eyes. It was too bright. "Christ's sake X, it's not even noon yet," Wyre snapped, sitting up in bed. She was startled by the light.

Xavier's eyes widened and he shrugged his shoulders. "It better not be, the reaping would be halfway over by then and the Peacekeepers would be trying to break down our house door wondering why we weren't there when the whole district's attendance is required."

"What?" Wyre spit a string of curses. "That's today? I thought today was Wednesday. That means…"

Xavier ripped off the blanket she was snuggled under and began folding it up. "Nope it's Friday. And yup, that means you've been camped out in your room for six days straight. Congrats Wyre, I think you've broken your own record." A tentative smile played on his lips. He joked, but if it was reaping day, that meant he was just trying to ease the mood.

The girl's eyes flashed back and forth as her brain raced. Six days… she knew she had been holed up in her room for a couple days, but almost a week... she hadn't thought it had been that long. It hadn't felt like that long. But the days and nights blended together in her room when the opaque black curtains hung blocking out all light. The days blurred furthermore when she slept for hours on end, not checking the time. She could have been awake all night and sleeping all day and she wouldn't have known the difference.

She had a clock in her room, but Wyre had been residing in complete darkness for the past couple days. She couldn't see it. And she certainly wasn't going to ruin the mood by turning the lights on.

Wyre strained her eyes, which were still not adjusted to the bright sunlight, to see her brother who was ruffling around in her closet. "Do you own anything that isn't black, Wyre? Clothes included?" Xavier asked, motioning to the contents of her closet and beyond to the rest of her room.

Black curtains. Black bed sheets. Black walls. She even had her brother install black lights in her room; to set the whole thing off. There could never be too much black.

Wyre slipped out of bed, her back aching from laying there so long. "I'll pick something out," she hobbled over to her closet and jerked a black sweater off one of the racks as well as a pair of black sweatpants.

Xavier pursed his lips, standing with his arms crossed. "Um, no. I don't think so. You're not looking like death today sweetheart."

Wyre rolled her eyes as her brother herded her away from the closet. "Like different clothes is going to change that," Wyre motioned to herself.

Her fingers were covered in chipped nail black polish. The very tips of her hair was tinged a light pink, faded from when she had first dyed them magenta. Her eyes were shadowed by rings of old black eyeliner that she had not washed off, and a nose ring pierced her septum.

Her brother shrugged. "Fair enough. But still, let me pick out an outfit for you."

Wyre rolled her eyes and reached for her earphones again. She didn't have time for this.

"No," Xavier warned. "We have to leave soon. Go wash your face off. Thoroughly."

Wyre shrugged at her caring brother's valiant effort to make her look presentable.

She walked into the bathroom and washed her face, removing all the makeup, rubbing her face red and raw while she was at it. When Wyre was finished, she traveled back out to her bedroom and put on the plain gray dress her brother had laid out for her.

Wyre walked into the kitchen where her brother was busy preparing breakfast. She pushed aside his blueprints that were scattered all over the kitchen table, along with some prototypes Wyre guessed he had brought home from work. Oh Xavier, her older brother, the ingenious inventor.

"Well X, you succeeded. I don't look like death," Wyre said, fixing her expression into one without emotion. "I look like the dead."

With her naturally pale skin, further whitened by all the time Wyre spent inside, along with her hair, which was a shade of blonde so light it looked almost white, Wyre looked like a ghost. And her eyes, without makeup surrounding them, her big blue eyes stood out the most, so blue they looked transparent in the morning sun. Her frail figure didn't help the image either. Wyre looked as if she belonged to another world besides this one.

"Well I think you look nice." And there was her brother, always thinking everyone and everything looked pleasant, jolly. Wyre rolled her eyes.

She whirled her spoon around in the cereal Xavier placed on the table in front of her. Wyre's stomach told her to refuse the food. She felt as if it were doing somersaults. She was too nervous, too scared to eat.

Wyre would be reaped, of course she would be, because her luck was just that ridiculously horrible. Even though she took out no tesserae and her name was only in the bowl the minimum amount of times it could be for a girl her age, she would still be reaped.

She could feel it in her bones.

Wyre stared transfixed at the cereal, eyes already looking dead. She was scared to be reaped, but why? She didn't have anything to live for. She wasn't like her brother, who was a successful inventor, someone who was going to change the world someday. No, Wyre would never make a positive contribution to this world. She was nothing. Nothing but a waste of oxygen.

"Cheer up, Wyre," Xavier urged, a forced smile on his face. He was nervous for her too. Perhaps even more so than she was. "Everything will be alright."

And although she didn't say it out loud, for her brother's tenderhearted sake, Wyre knew everything wasn't going to be alright.

District 3: Canon Tadashi

Canon flashed a smile to the Peacekeeper that pricked his finger for a blood sample. "Thank you," he spoke as he took a step into the eligibles standing section where he waited for his other two brothers.

Sony walked over to Canon's side, grabbing at his own just-pierced finger.

"See? It wasn't that bad was it?" Canon said offering another smile to his brother, his almond shaped eyes crinkling with the gesture.

Sony returned a nervous smile as Fuji walked over. 3 of 3. The Tadashi triplets had all officially arrived at this year's reaping. Canon just hoped they would all leave together.

And they would. He knew it. They would make it out. Just like they did last year. Why was Canon worrying?

Yet his hands still shook as he motioned for his brother to find a place to stand with him. He smiled, trying to push away the fear. He took a deep breath, but the exhale came out shaky.

Once the boys from school noticed Canon had arrived, they all flocked to him, where he gave reassuring words those who looked like they needed it. "There are thousands of boys here, guys. What are the chances one of us is going to be reaped?" He reasoned, and they nodded, trying hard to believe the calming words that Canon spoke.

As the escort began his annual speech, Canon stood among a crowd of boys he knew, all of which were frozen in fear of whom was to be chosen. All of them expecting the worst.

Canon didn't think like that though. He ruminated over their odds in his head. There were thousands of boys here in District 3, some who have taken out tesserae. The majority with their names in more than once. For even one of the triplets to be reaped, it was below a 1% chance. For a boy Canon knew to be reaped it was less than 5%.

It felt like a lifetime to Canon as the escort carried on and on about the Games and their origin, his sharp voice piercing the tension in the air. He finally plucked a name from the girl's bowl, and held it up for all the cameras to see. Canon held his breath and the escort called out, "Wyre Hanson!"

Canon heard a shriek, but it wasn't from the girls' area, it was from the rest of the district's viewing section. He watched as a man with messy light blonde hair and bright blue eyes pushed to the front of the spectator's area, grabbing at the velvet rope, Peacekeepers restraining him.

A girl bearing resemblance to him walked to the stage, same light blonde hair, same blue eyes. She wore a stunned expression on her face, that melted into one of no emotion at all as she stood on the stage for longer. She stared out blankly into the crowd. Poor girl, Canon thought. Wyre Hanson. The surname sounded familiar. He'd have to write the family a card, expressing his condolences.

The escort walked over to the boys' bowl and whipped out the second name. He held it high in the air for a few seconds, taunting. Canon didn't breathe. He couldn't. It was silent all around him as the escort opened the card up, seeing the name before everyone else did.

Please don't be Sony. Please don't be Fuji. Please don't be any of my other friends.

"Canon Tadashi!"

"No!" Canon let out a strangled sound. The boys around him looked petrified. Fuji opened his mouth. "Don't volunteer!" Canon hissed. He was not going to let his brothers same him. He wasn't wasn't going to let his friends do it either. Sony began to cry. Canon couldn't bare the pained faces around him so he journeyed to the stage.

Canon approached the stage slowly. His stomach churned. He felt as if he was going to throw up. Canon looked out into the crowd. His parents? Where were his parents? He looked desperately for them, for consolation, but it was impossible to find them in the huge crowd. He didn't dare look at his brothers, at his friends, for fear he might start crying if he did.

He closed his eyes and took a deep breath. Everything was going to be okay.

The escort wrapped up his announcements and Peacekeepers towered over Canon ready to take him away. Canon's eyes widened as he gobbled up the last views of District 3 that he could find. The skyscrapers that towered above the Capitol building, adorned with flashing banners and lights. The curved and winding roads and highways that twisted through the sky. Usually bumper-to-bumper traffic, they were empty right now.

And then the doors shut. Canon stood in a dimly lit hallway, the lights lining the walls glowing an eerie yellow color.

The Peacekeepers disappeared, off to prepare the visiting rooms. Canon didn't know if he was ready to face his family yet.

After a few minutes filled with deep breaths and soothing thoughts Canon began to calm down in the slightest bit. He would approach the arena like he approached anything else, with kindness. Just as he had planned, just in case. Everyone had thought of an arena strategy before. That was his. He would make allies. And he would start with his district partner.

He took a closer look at the girl standing beside him, Wyre. She was skinny and gaunt. Although her face indicated she was maybe three or four years older than Canon, she was barely taller than him. She said nothing. She didn't move.

"Hello," Canon's voice trembled as he spoke on friendly instinct. Wyre didn't reply. "I'm Canon."

Silence.

"It's going to be alright. I'm scared too," Canon said, his voice soft, kind.

Wyre laughed, a sullen, hollow laugh. There was nothing comical about it. "You sound like my brother." Her voice was bitter.

"We can be allies," Canon proposed the idea, ignoring Wyre's less-than-polite comment. She was probably just suffering from shock. "We can do this together."

"We? We can't win. There is no 'together'. The only thing we are going to do is die," Wyre spat, her words venomous. "We are going to be ripped apart in that arena!"

She spoke so harshly Canon took a step back. He furrowed his brows, the reassuring smile that lingered on his face seconds ago, vanished.

Canon said nothing else. He didn't want to infuriate her further. He'd give her space. But, he saw it, she needed him. She needed a friend. Desperately. He figured she didn't have many. He made up his mind then and there. He was going to befriend her, if it was last thing he did. It very well could be. She was going to be his ally.

They were in this together now, whether she liked it or not.

Author's Note: Okay, so I was reading the comments, and I agree. One POV chapter per tribute isn't going to be enough for you guys to get to know them. So, I'll do reapings up to District 6, then train rides for 7-12, then mixed POVs for the training days, interviews, etc.

Also, drop a review to make my day! Thanks to those who have reviewed! Plus, more reviews = more sponsor points for you! And wow, over 50 reviews in 6 chapters and this is my first story... thanks guys. I love you. :)

District 3 Male: Canon Tadashi, 14 (AmericanPi)

District 3 Female: Wyre Hanson, 17 (seerket)

Who is The Pessimist and who is The Optimist? This one is hard, lol. I feel as though you get a good feel of who both Canon and Wyre are as tributes in this chapter. Plus it is super fun to write them as opposite as they are. They will have interesting conversations in the future. :) Who do you like better, and what do you think of them individually?

The last chapter: Yennenga was The Fighter and Perseus was The Avenger. I loved hearing your thoughts on them!

Also, I will be away at camp, so the next update will not be until after next Monday. I hope yall understand!