District 6 Reaping:

Walker Jeong, 13
District 6 Male

Four months before the Reaping

The bell rings, marking the end of class and the end of the day. It's not that I find Mr. Amadie's class boring or anything, but he does have a tendency to drone on and on and on about all kinds of stuff that doesn't even matter that much. It's the weekend, so of course everyone is feeling restless, including me. Plus, I have debate club after school and I can't wait for that.

Outside the classroom, I meet up with Dash. Everytime we have a debate club meeting, we always walk down together. The rest of our friends will likely meet us there.

"Hey Dash, I'll race you! Loser has to bring the other snacks for all of next week."
"You're so on!"

I sometimes wish there were more people in the debate club so I could have more opponents to go up against, but other times I like the small size. It feels cozy. I know everybody here and I see quite a few of them every day in class or in the neighbourhood. Yeah, debate club pretty much consists of all the rich kids who don't have to go help their parents at their jobs after school. I wonder if something can be done about it.

My parents would never let me have an after-school job because they think education is way more important and needs all of my focus. If they had their way, I'd be in every single after-school club. Good thing I can convince them that debate club and chess team are enough extracurriculars as it is, especially since I like them. My dad always says a good mayor is a persuasive mayor. I like to think that I'm persuasive, especially when it comes to debates.

Once the entire debate team has settled, Ms. Muranaka calls for everyone's attention. "Good afternoon, everyone! Thank you for showing up today! Now, if we're all ready to put our heads together and debate, allow me to introduce this meeting's topic."

She writes a few words down on the chalkboard and then moves out of the way for everyone to read them. Should people be allowed to travel to other districts?

"Hot take," Dash whistles. I have to agree. Apparently you can get in trouble if you're going around spewing these kinds of topics but against the Capitol. It's not like we're all rebelling or everything. Ms. Nuranaka says that debate helps us become more critical thinkers and consider all views on the topic at hand. After all, the Capitol always has to think about thirteen different viewpoints before the President declares a new law. It must be really tricky to do.

"I'm going to give you half an hour to work in two different teams to come up with your argument, and then we'll begin the debate. In this corner, you believe interdistrict travel should be freely allowed. In that corner, you believe that interdistrict travel should be banned, or restricted to an extent. Try to come up with multiple different reasons. Again, this is not a black or white issue, like many of the issues we debate in here. So you may not entirely agree with everything your group mates propose. Remember to work together and be team players. I'll see you all when time is up."

Dash and I move to the pro-travel corner, where Jaxon and Porter are waiting. Really, I'd be willing to argue for either side, but since all my friends are already over here, why not? I could make a ton of cases for why interdistrict travel is a good thing for 6.

I produce a sheet of paper. "Okay, guys. We need to come up with some good arguments. What does everyone have?"

"Interdistrict travel is a good thing…" Jaxon pauses for a second. "Because it boosts District 6 economy! If a lot of people are travelling around, then it means 6 needs to produce more vehicles and more jobs get created."

I quickly scribble it down, because I was actually gonna suggest that. But I don't want to look like I'm bossing everyone around or controlling the whole conversation. People don't seem to like that in a leader. They like leaders who listen to others.

A couple more good points are brought up. The tourism industry. People may be happier in one district over another. I scrawl them all down and I think we've got some pretty solid arguments. I know I can argue these like a champ. The other team is going down.

"Alright." I hold up the paper. "I think this should be enough. Who wants to go first?"
Nobody raises their hands. Typical. Opening the actual debate is always kinda scary, so once the first brave souls step up, everyone seems to fall into place after.

It looks like it's up to me.

"Go right ahead." Dash jokingly bows to me. "The floor is all yours, Jeong."
"Woooooow. Thanks, guys."
"Time is up! Let's begin the debate. Pro-interdistrict travel will be up first."

"Knock 'em dead, Walker!" Porter whisper-yells as I take my spot in the middle of the classroom. All the desks and chairs have been pushed to the side, leaving a literal open floor for me to stand.

The debate part itself is pretty awesome, since everyone on the opposing side is taking this as seriously as I am. Eventually, Ms. Muranaka asks if we can switch with someone else, so as many people as possible have the opportunity to participate. I high five Dash on his way up. "Knock 'em dead, bud."
"Should've lowered the bar for me."
"Should've stepped up to go first!"

It's all in good jest. I don't even realize how quickly time goes by before we all follow Ms. Muranaka's gaze to the clock. The meeting ended ten minutes ago.

Ms. Muranaka just chuckles. "Alright, folks. I can imagine that you're all itching to go home, so I won't keep you any longer than I need to. Get some rest, catch up on your homework, and have a fun weekend. I'll see you all on Monday."

"Walker?" Jaxon calls after me as we all file out from the classroom. "Wanna meet up later so we can all hang out? We're going to my house."
"I wish I could. But my parents want me home early."

Dash scoffs. "Your parents always want you home early. We never hang out together anymore!"
"I know, but…" I just shrug. I don't really know all the details. Mom and Dad like to keep their lips shut. They often come home from work late and they say that I have a curfew so that way, they know where I am. And that I'm safe at home. There are still some unsavoury folks in 6.

"I'll ask them on the weekend if they can let me stay out a little later next Friday or something," I promise my friends. "Hopefully, they'll say yes."
Dash sighs and stares at his shoes. "I guess that's fine…"
"Oh, relax. I'm not leaving you all out to dry or anything. We'll hang out on Monday. See you later!"

Parting ways with my friends, I feel a little bit guilty, but I have to remind myself that at least I tried. I'm not abandoning anyone at all. It's not my fault my parents are like that. Always so low-key and stuff. Once I'm mayor, I'm getting rid of all curfews. Kids will be free to do whatever the hell they want.

Anyways, at home, there's nobody here. Not like I was expecting there to be anyways. I slip through the house until I eventually run into the maid. "Hey Rhonda. Do you know where Mom and Dad went?"

"Unfortunately, no." Rhonda hangs up some sheets to dry. "They won't be back home until about midnight. Do you have any homework you need to complete?"
"Nope! Did it all in class today! Can we play chess?"
"Let me put away all the laundry first."

I've always suspected that the reason Dad hired Rhonda was so she could teach me chess, because she's that good at it. I've played like, a thousand games against her and I've beat her maybe a handful of times. But at least I can use these tactics at school and impress everyone. I've got almost the entire chess team in my pocket now.

After yet another round where I come close but she still ends up beating me, the doorbell rings. Rhonda goes to answer it. It's probably Mom or Dad stopping at home to drop something off before they go back out and maybe they'll remember to say hi to me this time and-

"Uh...I'm sorry, sir. Neither of them are home."

Huh? That's not my parents? Then who's Rhonda talking to? I swiftly peek around the corner to see a man standing at the front door. He's wearing a pinstripe suit and a fedora and carrying a briefcase...wait. I know exactly who that is.

"What!? Rhonda? Why is-"
"Not now, Walker." Rhonda turns to face the man. "Again, neither of them are present. And you need to leave."

"Of course. I didn't realize. I apologize for my disturbance." The man tips his hat. He locks eyes with me, then grabs the door from Rhonda and slams it shut.

"Rhonda, why was Cruz Wells on our doorstep? He's a drug lord! And what did he want Mom and Dad for?"
"I don't know, dear. I really don't. That's why I told him to leave. Let's just...leave it be for now, alright? He's gone now, and you're still safe."

The fact that Mr. Wells even gets to be out and about on the streets of 6 in the first place makes my blood boil. The mayor promised to demolish the drug cartels for good and clearly, he's not doing his job. I'd never stand for this. I'd make sure Mr. Wells stays locked up until he dies. I should get Dad to fire the mayor.

"Would you like to get back to our game?"
"I promise, I'm gonna beat you this time."
"You say that every time."

I take my spot in front of the black pieces. "Except this time, I know I'm gonna beat you."

We spend maybe another hour or so playing chess, until Rhonda has to stop so she can make me dinner. I won't complain; I like it when Rhonda cooks. Her food's way better then what Dad makes, but hearing him grilling bacon early Sunday morning always feels so homely. He hasn't done it in a while, though. He and Mom are always out of the house before I wake up.

"Rhonda, can I stay up late tonight? It's the weekend."
"You always want to stay up late, Walker."

"I don't have school tomorrow. And I want to see Mom and Dad."

Rhonda drags a wet dishcloth across the dinner table. "You'll see them in the morning. It's very important that you get a good amount of sleep every night, even if it is the weekend. Heck, when they get home, they might be too tired."
"Please? Please, please, please, please-"

"You're going to wear me down! Alright, I'll let you." Rhonda sighs. "But at midnight, you have to go to bed, okay?"

Mom and Dad aren't home by midnight.

As I put away the chess set, Rhonda places a hand on my shoulder. "Yes, Rhonda. I know. I'm going to bed."
"Don't feel so bad; your parents are very busy folks. I'll see you in the morning."

Right as I'm at the top of the stairs, I hear the door open. Despite wanting to run back down and fling myself at my parents as a punishment for abandoning me all day, I decide to freeze in place and keep quiet. They've dismissed Rhonda and are talking about something.

"I thought you told Wells not to show up here!" my mom is half whispering, half yelling. "We're so lucky Rhonda didn't call the Peacekeepers."
"I know. I know, I know. We'll meet him tomorrow night. Hopefully, he hasn't given us or his cartel away."

Huh?

"We'll have to divert them," Dad muses. "Tell the Peacekeepers we're going one way and send the shipments the other way, to 7. We can't lose the supply. Too much money riding on this."
"Yes, I know. Yes! It'll all get taken care of, dear. Don't worry."

What are my parents even talking about?

"It's late." My mom's shadow intersects with my dad's as she kisses him on the cheek. "I mean it when I say we'll take care of it tomorrow. Is Walker in bed yet?"

Shoot. I dart up the stairs, trying to keep my feet from slamming hard on the floor and giving me away. I crawl into bed and throw the covers over my head. Just in time too, because I hear Mom and Dad coming in behind me. "He left his door open," Dad says before closing the door as they leave.

No kisses? No hugs? Even a simple "goodnight" would've done the trick.

I'm fighting to keep my eyes open, but my mind races. What the hell were my parents talking about? Why do they sound like they're friends with a drug lord? What exactly are they planning on doing?

What's going on?

Marcus Sconce, 29
District 6 Escort

Some people never had anything nice to say about District 6. Some people thought that Marcus "deserved better" or whatever. Some thought he was a dunce for choosing to stay in the dingy little transportation district when he had the chops to move on towards something greater and hey, Desdemona might be retiring soon, why not snatch up a promotion while he still could?

Marcus didn't see it.

He liked it here in 6. It was just as familiar as the Capitol.

Though sometimes, he wondered if other people did have a point. Maybe he did belong somewhere like 1. And if people kept telling him such, it had to be true. Right?

Well, maybe now was not the time to worry about that. And unlike the Capitol, where looks and reputation were everything and Marcus buried his desires deep down inside of him in an attempt to fit in with the popular kids and he dumbed himself down and he lied and he hid...

Here was different. Much different. The districts were frank and honest, and had no need for false airs or carefully crafted masks. Marcus didn't have to pretend. He didn't have to hide. He could relax a little, and lets his true nature shine through. He could be Marcus Sconce.

"Good afternoon," Maxon said politely. Dolly gave him a wave, but seemed disinterested. Somehow, that made her easier to face than Maxon, the altruistic saint of District 6 and golden trans jewel of the Capitol. Even though Marcus learned Maxon abhorred the constant praise and pressure the Capitol lumped upon him to be the face of Panem's LGBT movement, it was still hard to remember he was just as human as everyone else.

The Victors were just kinda an intimidating bunch overall. What did Marcus know about being a Victor? Was he out of touch with other Capitolites, who could ignore them and just pretend they were celebrities living thousands of miles away? Was he just really empathetic?

"Marcus. Marcus? Are you okay?" Maxon asked. Dolly perked up a little.
"Yeah. Yeah, I'm just peachy."
"Well, we're ready whenever you are."

Maxon and Dolly didn't sound ready for another Reaping, but business was business. Marcus was starting to wonder if his not-really-business suit was a bit too much; made of purple velvet with a large white belt around his waist that was covered in little gems. Just like his shoes, they caught light and sparkled. He was choosing to wear his contacts today, dyeing his eyes a dark gray.

The crowd was polite and it made Maxon feel a lot better. He pulled the first name. "Naomi Bishop."

An older girl slowly slipped out from the 17 year-olds section. She kept her head down, making it hard for Marcus to see her eyes, but her black hair appeared to be about chest-length. She numbly rubbed at her pale arms, as she shook a little climbing up the stage.

Time to call out the second name. Marcus unfolded the slip he picked out. "Walker Jeong."

At the edge of the crowd of adults, a woman suddenly fainted. The Peacekeepers dragged out a 13 year-old boy with short black hair, black eyes and skin almost as pale as Naomi's. He frantically struggled as he was carried onstage. "No! No, not me! Someone else volunteer! Do it!"

Right. Marcus still had to ask for volunteers. Although there had never been one during his time escorting, but maybe this year, things would be different. But nobody stepped up and Walker wailed out in despair. Marcus felt kinda bad for the poor kid.

"District 6, here are your tributes. Naomi Bishop and Walker Jeong." Nothing left but to make it official, he supposed. Polite applause, a sympathetic applause for the two kids.

Back in the Justice Building, he remembered why he liked it here.

Squeaking this out at the end of the month so I meet my deadline. I hit a wall and have been feeling pretty burnt out with THG fanfic and SYOTs overall lately. Not really gonna bore you with all this mopey talk about that, since that's not what you're here for.

See you all next chapter,

-Vr