Gus

Grandpa has always said that Reaping Day is the most important day of the year.

Today, every district offers up two sacrifices for the games. When the games were first created, they were meant to punish the rebels, to take their children from them. These days, all the old rebels who fought in the war are long dead. When I asked Grandpa why we still needed the games, now all the old rebels were dead, he said it was because we had to remember what the war did to us. We had to know what it was like watch our children fight and be twisted into monsters and die, as they did in the war. Better to relive the war through two children in a faraway arena than with every child in the district as our homes were torn apart.

Grandpa was alive for the war. He doesn't remember it clearly. He was two years old when it ended. He remembers what District 5 was like after the war. A harsh, cruel ruin of a district where broken people fought in the rubble for scraps. That was the destruction the rebels caused.

These days, nobody remembers. That's why the rebels came back.

My family has our own Reaping Day traditions. In the morning, we all walk to Grandma and Grandpa's house in Victor's Village. Every year, Grandma likes to make special outfits for us to wear to the reaping. She used to be a stylist in the Capitol before she married Grandpa and moved to District 5. She still likes to make clothes in her spare time. As she's been getting older, her eyesight's been getting worse and her hands aren't as steady as they used to be, so my sister, Favonia, sometimes comes over to help her. One by one, we walk into Grandma's sewing room and come out to show off our new outfit to the family.

Since it's my final reaping this year, I was chosen to go last. This year, my suit is stormcloud grey with a dark green lining. My shirt is silver-grey silk. I have a dark green tie with a silver rose on my tie pin. There are matching silver roses on my cufflinks.

It's probably my favourite reaping outfit so far. I like the roses. I remember on my tenth birthday, I helped Grandpa plant white roses in his garden and it was really fun. They didn't survive very long. I noticed that a few of them had some kind of blight and tried to tell Grandpa but he ignored me - Great Uncle Pann was in hospital so Grandpa was a little distracted - and then all the roses got infected and died. I don't think they would've survived the winter, anyway. White or silver roses seem to be a theme this year. I've seen all my family members' outfits - the white rose on Grandpa's lapel, the swirling fabric roses that make up the bodice of Favonia's dress, the white rose pattern on Aunt Becky's sundress and on Coulomb's silk shirt.

I take a look at myself in the mirror and smile. I look good. I'm going to stand in the very front row of the reaping this year, which means I'm probably going to get caught on camera. I will be comfortable getting caught on camera. All of Panem will see me, standing at the very front of the reaping crowd in my finest suit, and they will praise me for setting a good example, for celebrating Reaping Day the way that it is meant to be celebrated. I will make my family proud.

I step out of the sewing room and my family all cheer for me. They all crowd around me, giving me hugs and cooing about how I look so handsome and so grown up and so much like my grandfather. I keep smiling, a little embarrassed. I know I'm getting the extra attention because this is my final reaping.

"Gus," Grandma announces, "Luka and I have bought a present for you, to celebrate your final reaping."

She takes my hand and leads me into the dining room. I wonder what kind of present my grandparents have bought for me. This is a new part of my family's Reaping Day routine that I'm not familiar with. The last member of my family before me to reach their final reaping was Uncle Arcas and that was before I was even born. Sitting on the table is a small, square box wrapped in silver paper and green ribbon. I open the box with shaking hands to find a watch inside. I examine it for a moment. It's beautiful. The face is inland with mother of pearl lightning bolts and my initials are engraved into the strap.

"I love it!" I cry. "Thank you, Grandma and Grandpa! Where did you get it?"

"We got in touch with an old friend from the Capitol," Grandma says with a smile on her shimmery silver lips. Normally, she dresses like a District 5 citizen (albeit a wealthy and fashionable one) but on special occasions like today, she embraces the outlandish fashion of the city where she was born. She says she loves both her childhood home and the place where she started a family.

Grandma often goes on trips to the Capitol. She's the one who looks after Favonia whenever she goes to the Capitol for one of her modelling jobs, since she still has enough influence within the fashion industry to keep Favonia safe. Sometimes she goes there to meet up with her old stylist friends from the Capitol or buy new fashion supplies or get her hair dyed a new colour.

I set the time on the watch. "Now I'll never be late for anything."

We leave for the reaping in high spirits. The sky is overcast with clouds. On the walk from Victor's Village to the town square, we see other families walking their kids to the reaping. They all look worried, even the families like us, that wear fine clothes and probably never needed their children to take tesserae. We have never had to worry, even though there are currently four of us theoretically eligible to be reaped.

There were six victor's children who were eligible to be reaped for the Second Quarter Quell, the year after Brutus Michili, a victor's son, won the Forty-Ninth Hunger Games in spectacular fashion. Uncle Arcas was one of them, while Mom had just aged out. Five of these victor's children were reaped (though three were saved by volunteers due to being Careers). Uncle Arcas was the one who was spared. The reason why was obvious.

Grandma is a Capitolite. Every child born into our family has Capitol blood. I don't think the Capitol would want a child with Capitol blood to be reaped for the games.

None of the adults in our family have ever outright confirmed that we're all safe from the reaping. I guess they don't want us to think we're special or invulnerable, that we're above the reaping. I wouldn't be surprised if Grandpa took me aside after the reaping and told me not to tell Favonia or any of the cousins but my name was never even in the bowl and neither were theirs.

When we reach the town square, earlier than most of the crowd, the twelve of us all split off into our different sections. Grandma, Mom, Dad, Uncle Arcas and Ohmica, my youngest cousin, find a spot at the front of the sparse crowd of parents and relatives. Grandpa, Aunt Sotope and Aunt Becky all go backstage. As victors, all three of them will be expected to appear onstage for the reaping. Favonia, Dynamo, Coulomb and I all line up to have our fingers pricked by the peacekeepers so we can go the the correct sections for our age groups. The peacekeeper gives each of us a nod of respect as he takes our blood samples and fingerprints.

Grandpa has always been a loyal ally for District 5's peacekeeping force. Before his games he was just a humble delivery boy trying to earn money to support his blind and sickly younger brother. When he was ten, he was mugged and his package was stolen and the peacekeepers whipped him because they couldn't catch the thief. Things were tougher back then. District 5 was a wasteland and criminals ran rampant. Next time someone tried to steal his package, he beat them up with a bike chain and handed them over to the peacekeepers. He spent the next six years handing in every criminal who tried to steal from him. Once he'd won his games and he was the wealthiest man in the district, he started contributing some of his money towards funding the peacekeepers. He's the reason why District 5's peacekeeping force is one of the strongest in Panem and we weren't overrun by rebels like Three or Eight.

Every victor is a hero to their district. But Grandpa went beyond the extra food parcels and the mentoring. He used his money and influence and he built this district up from nothing. He has always been the most beloved and well-respected of Five's victors.

That's why it's so hard to live in his shadow.

I walk straight to the eighteen-year-old boys' section, right in front of the stage. Most of the other boys who are here already are my classmates. We make small talk as we wait for the square to fill up with people. Over the years, I've noticed that the wealthy and respectable arrive to the reaping first. Poorer families often have a morning work shift to complete or don't share our attitude towards the reaping. They're more reluctant than us.

Eventually, we are surrounded by other boys. I can feel the stares on my back, hear their excited whispers. I'm one of the most famous people in the district. I feel the nerves beginning to kick in, the way they always do around strangers.

Finally, the ceremony begins. Mayor Stormland, Pyramus Kelley and our six victors take their places onstage. I frown when I see Tesoro Bullion, our fourth victor, step onto the stage in a loud, garish shirt and a clashing pair of shorts. He looks bored and slightly drunk. He never takes the reaping ceremony seriously, which makes him an embarrassment to our district.

The rain begins to fall as Mayor Stormland begins his usual speech, reminding us of the history of Panem, the horrors of the Dark Days. It often rains on Reaping Day. District 5 is prone to summer storms. My classmates often complain about being rained on during the reaping but I find it calming. I close my eyes. Grandpa has always said that this speech is the time for reflection on the war, the damage the rebels did to this country and the mercy of the Capitol that saved us. We will reflect as a family around the dinner table at Grandma and Grandpa's house after the reaping, when we know the names and the faces of the children we are going to sacrifice, but this is the chance for all of us to reflect in private.

Today, instead of thinking about the war that I wasn't alive to experience, I think of the terrible acts of rebellion I have witnessed over the last two years.

Katniss Everdeen and Peeta Mellark stood in the arena, each holding a handful of poisonous berries. They made a mockery of the Hunger Games. They just couldn't accept the Capitol's mercy, mercy that would only extend to one tribute every games. They demanded more. And they ensured that District 12 lost no children that year. Through the survival of one tribute who should've died, an entire district escaped justice.

Bad omens, small signs of rebellion in other districts. Shortages. Grandma complaining about a shortage of ribbons. Mom and Dad having to explain to Dynamo that the graphical calculator they'd ordered from District 3 a month before his fourteenth birthday still hadn't arrived. Grandpa being unable to buy lobster for Katniss Everdeen and Peeta Mellark's victory banquet, blaming them for it and saying they don't deserve lobster.

Grandpa abandoning family gatherings to have hushed communicuff conversations with peacekeepers. Riots in Three. Riots in Eight. Mom and Dad telling us to avoid going near the district's eastern border, the one we share with Eight. Going out of their way to avoid it on family outings.

Riots in Five. Riots on the local news. Warnings on the TV to stay away from certain neighbourhoods. Peacekeepers giving speeches in school assemblies. "So far, the riots have been minor and easy to put down. We have been able to keep them far from your neighbourhood. There is no need to panic but stay in the safe neighbourhoods like your own, stay vigilant and report any suspicious activity."

The Quell interviews. Tribute after tribute spouting rebellious nonsense, trying to get the crowd of Capitolites to riot. Grandpa started arguing with the TV, then yelling at it. When Régine Maurin, District 1-born but dressed in frosty silver to symbolise her move to Three, started criticising the entire Career system, saying that it encouraged parents to abuse and exploit their kids, Grandpa just put his head in his hands. "Do you believe her?" I'd asked. "Don't tell anyone," Grandpa had said, quietly. "But I always knew that Careers were a bad idea. If Snow knows what's good for him, he'll shut them all down, tell them they don't deserve their privileges."

Fawkes Chau being carried to the ambulance, pale and bleeding. Just two days before, he'd been here. He'd been fine. He'd been kind to me. But the rebels in Three never forgave him for killing his district partner, even though she was a criminal. They never forgave him for killing Régine Maurin, even though she was a rebel. They never forgave him for moving to Ten and taking all his extra food parcels with him, even though it wasn't his choice, it was the Quell rules. They took him hostage and they tortured him out of pure spite and Manel had to save him…

I feel a twinge of sadness when I think about Manel. I don't think about him much, these days. Back in January, when he was all over the news as some national hero, I was obsessed with him. But, after Fawkes got out of hospital, he and Manel disappeared back to District Ten and I just stopped thinking about Manel. The longing just faded into regret and embarrassment. I'm still not sure what I was supposed to learn from my brief crush on Manel, what I was meant to take with me moving forwards. I haven't really been moving forwards. There have been no new crushes. I feel like I've gone backwards, if anything. Maybe it was just a phase. I feel exactly how I did before Manel came to District 5 but… lost.

Of course you feel lost, Gus, you're thinking about your love life when you're supposed to be reflecting on the rebellion!

I silently kick myself for getting distracted and reflecting on the wrong thing. I try to direct my thoughts back to a more appropriate topic.

You don't need to find yourself. I reassure myself. All that matters is your devotion to the Capitol. Don't lose your faith. They'll guide you.

Suddenly, thunder rolls above me. I have an epiphany. I finally realise what I was supposed to learn from my first crush. I was supposed to learn that I am completely lost. I have no direction. Not just when it comes to my love life but my entire future.

I'm going to university next year. I'm going to study biology, a subject that my thirteen-year-old cousin is better at than me. I find some areas of it interesting, like photosynthesis, but not any of the areas that are going to get me a good job. I'm only doing it because I don't know what else to do. I still haven't found my calling. I still haven't found myself.

I think I was looking in the wrong place. I shouldn't have been looking inside myself, agonising about every little thought inside my head. I should've been looking to the Capitol. I'm not supposed to guide myself, the Capitol is supposed to guide me. I'm sure they will send me some sign and take me in the right direction.

"It is both a time for repentance and a time for thanks," Mayor Stormland says, finishing his speech. I open my eyes and smile, thankful to the Capitol for giving me a reason to reflect. I hope they give me some direction soon. The Mayor introduces each of Five's victors and our escort, Pyramus.

Pyramus picks a name from the girls' bowl with his long red fingernails. He reads it out.

"Tornada Crossway!"

After a short pause, enough time for Tornada Crossway to realise that it's her and recover enough from the shock to move, a girl steps out from the back of the eighteen-year-olds' section. She's skinny and mousy, dressed in a drab patchwork dress that's a little too tight, like she bought it a few years ago and has grown out of it but couldn't afford to buy a new one. She looks like she's trying not to break down.

Once she's on the stage, Pyramus picks out the boys' name and reads it.

"Dynamo Heartmerry-Starkwain!"

Everyone gasps.

I thought this wasn't supposed to happen.

Dynamo, the eldest of my cousins, steps out of the fifteen-year-olds' section and makes his way up to the stage. The moment I see him, shivering in the rain, I see it.

The sign from the Capitol I've been waiting for.

Dynamo is only fifteen. He's weak, the least athletic person in the family. He used to fake being sick so he could get out of family sports games and hide in his room doing algebra. He wouldn't last five minutes in the arena. Plus he has a purpose in life. He's a brilliant mathematician. He's going to go to university and do great things.

I'm eighteen. I turn nineteen in September. I'm the most athletic person of reaping age in my family.

Grandpa volunteered for his games. Great Uncle Pann was reaped and he was twelve years old at the time, weak and sickly and blind. Grandpa was four years older and he knew how to fight. It just made sense. Now I wonder if Grandpa had another reason to volunteer. He'd given up his entire childhood so his brother could have one. He dropped out of school at the age of ten and got a job to help his father support him. He spent all his free time helping Pann do his homework, reading all the questions to him, writing down his answers. Grandpa always said that Pann was smarter than him, even though he was younger and he couldn't read or write. I think Grandpa would've felt completely worthless if he'd just stood by and let his brother die.

I'd feel pretty worthless, if I let my cousin die. It's clear that my purpose is to fight and is is to go back to his life. I finally have direction. The Capitol are directing me into the arena.

I look over at the six victors sitting on the stage, half of whom are family to me. Aunt Becky is crying. Aunt Sotope is glaring at Pyramus like she wants to throw a chair at him. Grandpa just looks confused. There's going to be a seventh chair there next year and I'm going to be sitting in it.

Pyramus asks for volunteers.

"I volunteer as tribute!" I cry.

Everyone sees me. Everyone stares as I step out of the crowd and walk up to the stage. I can feel the power flowing through me. Today, I am going to be the hero I always dreamed of being.

I step onto the rain-soaked stage and give Dynamo a quick nod. He retreats to the side of the stage, where his mother pulls him into a hug. Then Pyramus asks me to give my name, even though everyone already knows, and hands me the microphone.

"Guston Starkwain," I say. "But you can call me Gus."

I wink for the cameras. I need to act calm and confident, like I'm in complete control of the situation. A lot of people are going to be scrutinising my behaviour so I need to be perfect.

For some reason, that's scarier than the high possibility of me dying.

"I take it you're related to Dynamo," Pyramus says.

"He's my cousin," I say. "I'd do anything for my family."

"I imagine it runs in the family," Pyramus says. His orange-gold eyes are shining with excitement. He must be so happy to be District 5's escort the year Luka Starkwain's grandson volunteered. If he handles this job well, it'll surely improve his reputation in the Capitol.

Mayor Stormland reads out the Treaty of Treason. I thought I knew the treaty like the back of my hand but I find there's a new dimension to it now that I'm a tribute.

Now I am a tribute, I am a representative of my district. That's a very big responsibility and I'm ready for it. I am going to show them the best side of District 5. Our loyalty, our dedication, our selflessness. If I'm going to die, if I'm going to be one of District 5's sacrifices, I want my district to be proud. I want them to feel pain as well. I want my sacrifice to have the effect that the Capitol intended when they drew up the Treaty of Treason, to remind the districts of the pain of the war.

But the treaty also specifies that one tribute must live. If I am to be that tribute, I want to be a worthy victor. I want to kill people. I remember I once asked Grandpa if he felt guilty for the eight kids he killed in the Hunger Games. He told me he didn't. The way he saw it, they were dying for the crimes of the rebels and he was the Capitol's executioner. That's what I want to be, the Capitol's executioner. It would be an honour.

I just hope I'm strong enough to do it.

The moment the treaty is finished, I don't even wait for the mayor to give his prompt. I offer Tornada my hand to shake as a gesture of good sportsmanship and District 5 solidarity. She's a little hesitant. I guess it's because I'm a lot bigger than her, I'm from a wealthy and influential family and I volunteered so quickly and calmly. She probably finds me intimidating. I give her my best reassuring smile and she looks me right in the eye and shakes my hand.

Suddenly, there's a flash of lightning over the crowd. They gasp. I look away for a moment to watch it cutting through the sky. It sends a shiver of excitement through me. I've always found lightning beautiful, a natural representation of District 5's industry. The lightning gives me power. It reminds me of what I'm fighting for.

The thunder rolls. I feel the sound vibrate through my bones and I already feel like a victor.

Happy Reaping Day! I had a fun time writing this chapter and trying to depict what Reaping Day would be like for a family of Pro-Capitol outliers. The Starkwains had an especially unusual attitude towards the reaping because they thought their Capitol heritage would protect them. And it did… until now! Volunteering for the games has finally given Gus some direction. Time will tell if the new direction he chose was good for him.

Next chapter, we'll get a POV from our other major POV character, Luka Starkwain (a.k.a. Grandpa). We'll see if he's as optimistic about these games as Gus is.

I can also reveal that this chapter was originally from Tornada's perspective in my first draft, and was therefore a much more standard reaping day chapter. When I started my first draft, I gave POVs to whatever random character I felt like giving a POV to. I even gave a POV to Maia Nuñez (a.k.a. the queen who will not be seen, the MVP with no POVs). Then, about halfway through the story, I decided to go in a new direction and reduce the number of POV characters to four. Gus and Luka are the main two, but I'm also going to make two other characters minor POV characters who will probably get one or two POVs just to add a bit of variety. I chose them all to fit a certain theme, which I will not give away as it could spoil the story, but Tornada Crossway does not fit the theme, so she will get no POVs. Unfortunately for you Maia Stans (I know you exist, Maia Stans), I also had to cut Maia's POV for the same reason. See if you can guess who the other POV characters will be and what the theme is.