Trigger warning: chapter contains brief mentions of gender dysphoria, substance abuse, and misgendering.

Reggie Baxter, 18
District 12 Male

Five weeks before the Reaping

This morning starts off as normal as I do my daily cabinet check. I've got all my medicines memorized, listed in alphabetical order. So it takes me about two second to notice that something is missing.

The little bottle of pain relievers. Shit. Those are expensive. And as much as I'd love to be downing them like candies, I know for a fact I haven't touched the pills at all. So someone else must've taken them. Here, there are very few suspects. And I'm taking the day off so there's nobody else around and...

For fuck's sake. Why did it have to be him?

After a meager cup of coffee for breakfast, I'm ready to start my day. I head downstairs and into the apothecary. Lyle's already cleaning down the operating table. I've never seen his hands shake so much; that means he's nervous. I don't like being confrontational, especially with him, but this is important.

"Babe."
"Oh. Good morning, hun. I didn't expect you to be up so early."

"It's not early. And did you touch the pain relievers in the medicine cabinet?"
"Ummm…" Lyle stops wiping the table. "The white bottle?"
"The white bottle. The small one with the gray label. Did you touch it or not?"

Lyle doesn't bother meeting my eyes. Guilty as charged. I'm trying to stay calm but the absurd cost of that bottle is completely lost on him. It's not like he needs them that badly anyways! I could use the pills more than him but you don't see me stealing from the cabinet!

I can feel the headache coming on already. It's way too early in the morning for this crap. "Lyle!"

"Babe, I am so sorry. I should have let you know when-"

"Don't 'sorry' me! Say sorry to my wallet!" I don't realize how hard my fist is coming down on the metal table until I smack it hard and the sound makes both of us jump. "They're from the Capitol! I had to save up for months just to buy one tiny little fucking bottle! And then you selfishly go and you fucking down them all! Are there even any left at this point!?"

From his pocket, Lyle slowly pulls out the bottle of pain relievers. I snatch it up and shake it. Sounds like there's a few left, but it's almost empty. Fucking hell, I'm pretty sure this thing was full last week. Lyle still won't look me in the eye.

"Reggie? I'm sorry. It's just...well, um...these past few days have been tough...okay, I know that's not really an excuse."
"No it's not. This is all on you, and you know it. Shit." This is not how I planned to start my morning. "Well, it's not like we can do anything about it now. Just stop touching them. If I see you near the cabinet again without my orders, there will be consequences. You know what I'm capable of."

Shit. The threat came flying out of my mouth before I even realized what I was saying. Lyle's mouth drops open and he just stares at me. What, he's not going to push me? Why won't he get mad at me or threaten to break up with me or something? Make me feel like my guilt is deserved?

"I...sorry...didn't mean that. But seriously. You promise to listen?"
"I promise babe."

I make a mental note to buy a lock for the cabinet later on. Yeah, I know Lyle will need to use the stuff in there for other purposes, but he'll have to come to me about it first. That way, I can be sure he doesn't steal anything else. I know I shouldn't be so hard on him, but I'm in a really bad mood right now. He's just making it worse.

Fuck, fuck, fuck, my poor wallet. All I can really hope at this point is that the cost of pain relievers hasn't gone up. Putting the bottle back into the cabinet, I stare and just sigh. This is coming out of the funds I was saving for surgery. I so badly want to schedule my top one for next month. I might not have the cash by then. It's like a cycle of total torment, life's little way of mocking me. I finally get so close to that trip to the Capitol doctor and then I have to push it back, again and again and again and-

The wave of dysphoria crashes onto my head. I ignore it. This morning doesn't change the fact that I've still got some work to do on my day off and I'm always going to be busy until I drop dead. Nobody else needs to know about my fight with Lyle. He wouldn't compromise a patient to get back at me. And hopefully, by tonight, we'll both have forgotten all about it. It was his fault anyways.

I slip a pair of gloves onto my hands and throw my white healer's coat over my shoulders. Hygiene is important in this field, but it also makes me feel a little more professional. If you look like a doctor, people will trust you with everything and anything. I'm the only alternate for a doctor anyways, since none of them are gonna make the effort to come all the way out here, to dingy little 12. It's why my surgeries cost so much, in case I need to bribe Peacekeepers. Some of them will give you permission right away, some of them don't care about a coal-mining peasant.

Okay fine, I don't really have to put my coat on today. I'm not taking any appointments. But suppose the mayor or Head Peacekeeper or someone of equally important status comes waltzing in. And I think I hear the door opening right now.

"Hello Mr. Garrbe. Is Mr. Baxter in today?" Ugh, what do they want? It's my day off.

"He is, but he's not going to be seeing anyone. Oh, he's in the back. I can pass these on for you, if you'd like?"
"No, it's okay. I don't mind waiting here."

Well, shit. That sounded really feminine, and not the mayor or head Peacekeeper like I thought. I think I recognize whose voice that is? That's not my sister, is it? It's definitely not that old lady who came in here last week and was a bit of a pain in the ass. But that then might mean someone else, someone I was particularly dreading.

"Reggie? Carota Simmers is here to see you."
Oh no. I was hoping she couldn't be bothered to come today. I straight my coat alone and force a smile.

"Miss Simmers," I say, forcing an even tone. "I'm not taking any visitors at this time."
"Oh, I won't keep either of you long." Carota places a bouquet of flowers down on the counter. Are those for me? Why is she bringing flowers? That looks so expensive.

"These are for you. Courtesy of my family. I was hoping to see you at the funeral yesterday. I guess you had too much on your plate, so I hope you don't mind me doing a delivery today."

Oh God. The funeral. She just had to go and bring the fucking funeral up. But yeah, let her believe I was too busy to attend. Why would I say otherwise?
"I'm so sorry, Miss Simmers. Lyle and I were absolutely swamped. I wish we could've made the time, and I really wanted to. But unfortunately, we didn't have the opportunity. I do appreciate the flowers, by the way. Thank you for them."

"It's the least I could do for you, dear." Carota gives me a sad smile. Does she have to smile? Why can't she yell at me and call me names or misgender me or throw something at my head so I could feel justified in my anger at her? Stop being nice, I want to beg her. It automatically makes me the asshole for how I feel. I don't like feeling like the asshole.

Lyle clears his throat. I shoot him an icy glare.

"I better be going now. Please take care of yourself, okay? And Reggie, I'm not upset. I understand that it was an accident and that accidents do happen from time to time. You did so much for us already and we're beyond thankful. But do be more careful and attentive in the future to avoid such careless mistakes."

There it is. My reason to be mad at her. I take the bouquet so I can carry it upstairs, holding the petals up to my face to mask my rage. I can't let her see how badly she gets to me with that kind of accusation. "Will do. Thanks for coming, Miss Simmers."

Lyle waits until Carota is finally gone to open his mouth. "Reggie! You said you attended the funeral!"
"Look, I couldn't! I couldn't face her and her family, alright? Carota said it was fine, but what if everyone else was pissed? What am I supposed to do?"

"Fucking apologize?" Lyle folds his arms. "Like a grown adult!?"

"Apologize? Apologize for what!? 'Hey Carota! I'm sorry I accidentally killed your mother and had the gall to show up to her funeral and disrupt your grieving family.' Is that what I'm supposed to say to them? Somehow, like a grown adult? Yeah, that would make anyone feel better."

Lyle shrugs. "Well...you could phrase it a little more nicely. But at least say you're sorry?"
"What if it was a trap? What if the Peacekeepers were waiting to pounce on me?"
"That's not gonna happen. Carota said that it was an accident and she wasn't pressing any charges."

"Maybe she lied!" I feel a leaf poke me in the face. The flowers do look really nice. I think I'll put them on my nightstand. Just...staring at them calms me down a little. Carota doesn't have to be so kind to me and go out of her way like this, so she wouldn't lie. Right? Right!?

"Like how you lied to me about attending the funeral?"
"I told you, I couldn't do it."
"She was your patient. And we don't just ignore patients the second they're out of our care."

"Babe, if I wanted to attend the funeral of every person who's been standing in this room at one point, I wouldn't have time to get anything done. Just...drop it. I can't think right now."
"Reggie, I just think that-"
"I said no! Drop it!"

Talking about it gets me all worked up. It was an accident. A stupid little accident and me foolishly thinking I was qualified to perform a goddamn surgery. I wouldn't even perform surgery on myself; that's why I'm saving up to visit a Capitolite doctor. No shit I wasn't qualified! And look what happened!

Fuck, and this is my day off too. It wasn't supposed to be this stressful.

I decide to bring the flowers to my bedroom. Before I do something stupid. Like dropping them on my foot. Or burst into tears, crying into them. Or...

The paranoia of the past week has been driving me insane. I probably wouldn't be lashing out so much otherwise. It was an accident. A stupid accident, but an accident nonetheless and it killed someone. I'm a healer. I heal people. I help them. I'd never intentionally hurt someone. I'd never intentionally kill someone.

Doesn't change the fact that you still did something wrong, Reggie.

Shut the fuck up. I know, okay? I know. I know! I know I messed up.

What if Carota does turn back on her word and sends the Peacekeepers after me? I'd get arrested and I'd never be able to run the apothecary ever again. Would they send me to prison? Which side of the prison would they even lock me up in? Would Lyle care enough to visit or would I be forever alone? Shit, they might skip that entirely and I'd be the next execution on show for the district to watch.

No. No. It's been a week and I'm still here. Nothing like that is going to happen. I just...have to move on, I guess. It's the Simmers family's fault for trusting me anyways. I warned them, I was honest, and yet they insisted. Hell, they even paid me double what I charged! Stupid, stupid, stupid…

This isn't fair. But then again, when has life ever been fair to me?

I take off my coat; I don't feel like wearing it anymore. I just want to curl up in bed and hide from the outside world. I'll be all neat and clean and professional tomorrow. I make sure to close the door, so Lyle knows not to come into here. I do love him, but I just can't face him right now.

God, this sucks.

Donnatricia Marabellium, 26
District 12 Escort

As far as Donnatricia was concerned, Lark Riviere's biggest crime?

His atrocious fashion sense.

The richest man in District 12 hadn't even bothered to dress up at all for the Reaping. Hell, for all Donnatricia knew, he probably hadn't showered either. The coal miners, she could understand because admittedly designer clothes could cost a pretty penny even in the Capitol. Lark should have known better.

"Kill a flamingo on the way here?" Lark sneered at her over the bottle of white liquor he was drinking. "Hope you didn't crack a nail, princess."
"What are you doing? The Reaping will be starting soon and I don't need a drunk mentor!"

"Yeah, well..." Lark proceeded to down the rest of the bottle. "I need it."

Donnatricia just turned to the nearest Peacekeeper. He only offered up a shrug in response. The authorities had long since given up ever trying to force Lark to behave, from when he was a scrappy 12 year-old rebel to when he became the youngest Victor of the Games, a record still yet to be matched or even beaten.

Donnatricia wrapped her hot pink boa tighter around her neck, as if it could somehow protect her from Lark's careless attitude. The boa matched her jacket, which contrasted nicely against her neon yellow dress and the bright blue heart patches she had sewn on herself. Okay, maybe the neon was a little overkill. But her other dresses were being saved for important matters like parties or meeting with sponsors and Victors.

Maybe today she should've chosen something that claimed "way better than the drunkard Victor behind me" to the district. Undergoing the near impossible task of having to babysit two tributes and Lark as well? Donnatricia would've worn something simpler that would sting less to get covered in Lark's vomit and mess.

Except she didn't have any time to change right now. It was time to get on with the Reaping.

As per usual, the crowd in District 12 was as energetic as a pack of zombies from a horror movie. Ugh. Someday, Donnatricia would get that promotion and she'd be out of here, headed to a district with nicer weather, a more pleasant atmosphere, and way better fashion.

Regardless, she drew the first name. "Tati Vey."

There was barely any movement in the crowd, so Donnatricia wondered if she had made a mistake. She called the name again and the Peacekeepers left to retrieve the girl. Tati was a tiny skinny 13 year-old with tired green eyes and frizzy short hair in desperate need of a good washing. The second the Peacekeepers dumped the frozen girl on the stage, Tati curled up into a small ball and threw her hands over her head. Donnatricia could just barely hear her sobbing.

That was unfortunate. And it didn't give Donnatricia much hope for the next tribute. "Reggie Baxter."

Reggie was 18 years old, with short curly black hair, light brown skin, and grey eyes. He barely reacted to hearing his name get called out. He just walked quietly up to himself, hands frozen to his sides and feet moving stiffly. As least he was nicely dressed in comparison to the total rags his district partner was wearing.

Maybe all hope in this district wasn't lost.

That was fine by Donnatricia. She really wanted to get off this musty stage and out of the district. All this coal dust was getting into her boa and making a big mess of it. Damn it, she knew that bright pink would've been a big mistake out here!

Finally back after taking a break...right at the end of the month. Updates will slow down a little bit as I continue to work on stockpiling. Remember to check out the blog for some extra content.

Not much else to say here, just be respectful in the reviews please.

-Vr