Iskander Crane
Son of Head Gamemaker
The Academy was the oldest school in the Capitol. It was even older than the University. It was built long before the Panem, one of the few buildings to survive the disasters.
It was the most prestigious center for Lower Education in the country. Graduating from the Academy guaranteed a spot in the University. The University was the be-all and end-all of higher education in Panem.
Graduating from the University was a ticket to any job or industry in the country.
There was one exception to this rule: Games College. If you wanted to do anything involving the Hunger Games, you had to through the college. The only way to join the games without a diploma was to be a tribute or a mentor.
That's where Iskander was going when he graduated. Like his father before him, Iskander would forego attending the University and make a bid for Games College. He was going to be a Head Gamemaker, just like his father.
Until then, Iskander loosened his tie. He was looking at a picture of the old uniform. There was President Snow, decked out in red. Iskander was glad the Academy ditched those old-fashioned uniforms. His blazer was a lot more stylish.
A set of soft, feminine arms wrapped around him. "Hey there."
He couldn't keep the stupid grin off his face. "Venus. I thought you weren't coming today?"
Her pink curls bounced as she rolled her eyes. "The interview ended early. My mom got the job."
"That's great! You can move out of Red Rose."
"It's great," she mumbled sarcastically.
"Pompey is an Executive Office in the Bank of Rome. You should be happy your mom is his secretary. The Archi Family is rich."
"My mom isn't going to be his secretary. She's his mistress."
"And she's getting paid well for it."
Venus nodded. "That's true. You should see the luxury apartment he bought for us. It's big. Not as big as yours."
His father had purchased the best apartment that was open in the City Center. Of course, a mistress's place would be smaller. It was a step up from the ratty little apartment they lived in before.
"Where's it at?"
"Hillcrest."
That was an upscale neighborhood.
"So, where is Hermes? He sticks to you like glue."
"He's my best friend," he had to remind her. "And he's at Gravity Ball practice. You know he wants to go professional."
"Hermes? A professional Gravity Ball player? I'll believe it when I see it."
"He's got talent."
"He's too stupid to be a professional."
"You don't have to be rude."
"Sorry."
Now, she was pouting. "We're still on, right?!"
Iskander matched her smirk. "Of course! I got us three tickets to Delirium!"
Delirium was one of the biggest clubs in the city. It was considered a luxury sponsor pit, where Victors roamed to find sponsors. Delirium was bound to have a few Victors lurking. Cashmere and Gloss were awesome. But he wanted to spend time with other Victors.
"When are we going?!"
"After Hermes gets off to practice."
"Can't we go without him?"
"No."
"Fine. How long do we have to wait?"
"It shouldn't be more than an hour."
"Fine. Then you're coming with me. I left my History Book in Professor Flossey's classroom."
"So you wouldn't believe what Terra Summers did at band camp. I promised I wouldn't tell, but her mom bit the dust, so I don't have to worry. You won't believe this."
That was Persephone's voice. Venus tightened when she heard it. Iskander wished he hadn't come. The last thing he wanted to do was get in between them.
"Terra used her flute for you know what. She got a staff infection down there-"
Before he could stop, Venus raced down the hallway and flung the door open.
Persephone Snow was bouncing on Hannibal Antonius, tits flapping in the breeze. The President's granddaughter was fucking the Defense Minister's son.
Iskander wished he hadn't set foot in this classroom.
"What the hell do you think you're doing? It isn't a Snow damned show! Get out- Venus? Is that you?"
Venus was trembling. The anger melted off Persephone's face, replaced with a cruel smirk.
"Who the hell is Venus?" Hannibal asked.
"Venus is my aunt."
"I thought you only had one aunt?"
"Arcadia is my REAL aunt. Venus is the product of a whore."
Venus went read. Iskander knew this was going to happen. He should have stopped her. Damn it!
"Father might be the honorable president, but he is a man. And men have their needs."
"I'm not the one screwing the minister's son on a desk," Venus hissed. "Who's the real whore?"
"You're mother," she returned right away. "That's what grandfather paid her for. He could have any whore in the country, but he picked your filthy mother."
Hannibal laughed, and that made Persephone giggle. Iskander grabbed Venus before she went for Persephone.
"Did you know Venus' mother gave grandfather something? She wasn't even a clean whore. Is her pillow house too cheap to cure infections? Does her pillow house even run tests on their whores?"
"You fucking bitch!"
"Crane, you can do a lot better than those used goods. I'm sure she's had plenty of customers. If you want, I can introduce you to my sister, Proserpina?"
"No thanks."
Iskander dragged Venus out, kicking and screaming. "Let go of me! I'm going to rip her hair out!"
"That's President Snow's granddaughter! Do you know what will happen if you hurt her?! The Praetorian Guard will make you disappear!"
"I'm his daughter! He'll listen to me!"
"No, he won't! He doesn't care about you! You know that!"
It took a while, but Venus stopped fighting.
"What happened to Venus?"
"She ran into Persephone."
Hermes whistled. "Damn. I thought you wanted to keep them apart?"
Iskander did. He didn't want his girlfriend to cross the line and get picked up by the Praetorian Guard. The best she could hope for after that was spending the rest of her life as a peacekeeper in the outer districts.
"Come on. Let's get going. They're announcing the scores tonight, and we don't want to miss that."
Hermes and Venus agreed. Iskander paid for the most expensive private room they could order. They were halfway through Roasted Swan when Ceasar Flickerman appeared on stage.
"As you know, tributes are rated on a scale of one to twelve after three days of careful evaluation. Ladies and gentlemen, I have in my hand the scores. Delivered directly from the Gamemakers."
Ceasar held up a yellow envelope. Ever the showman he makes a whole scene out of opening it. "I wonder how this will tip the bets?"
Ceasar winked at the audience and pulled out a sheet of paper. "From District 1, Lustrous. A score of eleven!"
Hermes jumped up with a yell. "Yes! That's my boy!"
Venus glared at him. "What's so special about him?"
"I put 1000 denari on him."
"Where did you get 1000 denari?"
"Saved up."
"From District 1, Amethyst. With a score of 9!"
Amethyst's smiling face stared out at us from the screen.
Both tributes from Two got 9s. The boy from Three ironically got a 3. His district partner scored a bit higher with a Four.
The boy from Four got a 10, and his district partner came out with a 9.
Venus smirked when that 9 appeared. "My mother's employer is betting a fortune on that girl. He promised Mom a nice bonus if she wins."
Iskander felt a little guilty. He loved the careers. But he had his eggs in a different basket this year.
The boy from Five got a 5, which was surprising for a twelve-year-old. The girl was even more surprised with a 7.
Iskander whistled. It was unusual for the outer districts to score so high.
Iskander got another surprise when the boy from Six scored an 8. His district partner didn't do so well, but she got a 6.
Both tributes from Seven scored a 7. That was irony.
Eight boy got a four. Eight girl received a 2. Nine boy 7. Nine girl 8.
The cowboy from Ten appeared, and he got a 9. The highest score an outlier got the games.
Iskander was pleased. Colt was his favorite to win. There was something about the cowboy that he liked. Ten hadn't won for twelve years. But they had a Victor today.
His partner got a 7. The boy from Eleven got a 7. His district partner got a 6. Twelve boy got a 3. Twelve girl had a 2.
Hermes snorted. "Another bad year for Twelve."
"Don't they always have bad years?" Venus asked.
"I don't know. Twelve won twice."