A/N: Trigger warning for mentions of brief mentions of drug abuse in both POVs.
Mercedes Fletcher, age 16
District 6 Female
The neighborhood I'm walking in isn't the worst part of District 6, but it's a far cry from the Victors' Village where I live with my dad. But considering what my father did to win his Games, I think I'm better off not hanging out there.
I pass the toy store where Elantra, Cadillac, and I used to hang out and let myself sigh when I see an assortment of small, cheap plush toys in the window. Cadillac was always the expert on them. Some days I like to say hello to the shop people, just to remind them that I haven't forgotten them, but I don't want to be reminded of my best friends' deaths on Reaping Day. Cadillac and Elantra died two years ago, when a car ran into them while the three of us were crossing a street. I somehow survived with only a nick, but to this day I can't help but think that the driver was aiming for me, the daughter of Panem's most rebellious Victor, and it was my fault that my best friends died.
I look away from the toy store, trying not to cry.
As a general rule of thumb, the poorer a Six neighborhood is, the grittier it gets and the more drug users you will see wasted on the streets. There are seedier places than where I am now, but the sidewalk is cracked, the streets are dusty, and I see a homeless man sleeping against a nearby brick building.
There's an empty syringe on the ground next to him, and my heart breaks for the man. I don't hesitate to grab a handful of loose change from my closely guarded purse and shove the pile of coins gently into the man's side. I don't want to disturb a sleeping homeless man, but I can't help but feel bad for him. He has to be going through a lot of pain in order to use drugs to feel good.
Remembering my father's warning that addicts who receive money as a gift often use it to buy more drugs, I look around for somewhere to sit. I see a stone bench at a bus stop, but it feels a bit far away so I sigh and sit down against the wall a few feet away from the sleeping man. I pull out my notepad and a pencil to write a quick message to the man.
"Please buy some food with this. -Mercedes"
I'm not sure if this will work, but it's worth a shot. I tear the piece of paper out of the notepad, fold the note, and slide it next to the man. With the deed done, I continue on my way, hoping that the homeless man will have something to eat when he wakes up.
I reach my destination in less than ten minutes. It's a little electronic shop that sells a miscellany of electronic goods, from small circuit boards to old flip phones to the occasional television set. I enter the store and smile at the shopkeeper.
"Hello, Mercedes," the shopkeeper, Mx. Toyoda, greets from behind the counter as I enter. I'm here so often that I'm a familiar face to them.
"Good morning, Clear," I say with a smile, being friendly enough with the main shopkeeper to call them by their first name. "Do you guys have anything new since I was last here?"
"Right to the point, as usual," Clear says, smiling back. "A few days ago someone dropped off some old electronics and I think you may be interested in the crank flashlight."
"So you wind it up and it lights up?" I ask, my interest immediately piqued.
"Yes," Clear says, reaching for the gadget on the shelf behind them and holding it out to me. I examine the flashlight. It has a light on the end like an ordinary flashlight, but it's thicker and shorter than a regular flashlight and, of course, has a crank attached to it.
"How does it work?" I ask, taking the gadget and turning it around in my hands.
"I can tell you, but I'm sure you can figure it out yourself," Clear says with a cheeky grin.
"Hey, no fair!" I say jokingly, but in all honesty I'm looking forward to taking this little thing apart and putting it back together to work out its quirks. "How much is it?"
Clear names a price that is pretty reasonable considering that I practically bought the gadget before he even gave me the price. I pay for the flashlight with a smile. I tuck it into my purse, looking forward to adding it to my large collection of electronic gadgets. I know I have a lot, and my desk is cluttered with them, but electronics are my passion and I hope to get a job involving them one day. I've never wanted to go down the normal path of working in the District industry. But then again, I've never been a normal Six citizen.
"Would you like to stay for lunch?" Clear asks after I pay for the flashlight and we make light conversation for a while. "Providence and Concord should be back soon."
"Thanks for the offer, but I should really get going," I say, regret welling up inside me. The truth is that I've never let anyone too close to me after Elantra and Cadillac died. It's for everyone's own good to not associate too much with Aston Fletcher's daughter.
"I'll see you later, then, Mercedes," Clear says, smiling.
"Yeah, of course," I reply. "See ya!"
I wave at the shopkeeper as I exit the store, my new crank flashlight tucked safely in my bag. I'd love to play with it later today, but I have to go to the Reaping.
The thought of the Reaping makes me frown. It's an event that brings me a lot of fear that I'll get rigged into the Games. The fear has lessened after my first Reaping, in which my name was drawn from the Reaping Bowl but someone I didn't know volunteered to take my place because her brother was Reaped before her and she wanted to protect him. I've been safe in all my Reapings after that one, so I'm starting to think that maybe I won't be rigged into the Games and me being Reaped as a twelve-year-old was just bad luck. And if it was bad luck, I had my share of it being Reaped as a twelve-year-old so I won't get Reaped again. I hope.
The Capitol may be out to get me, but maybe they're choosing not to do it through the Games.
I sigh when I realize that I've been standing in one spot spacing out for who knows how long. I've still got time to kill before the Reaping, though, so I make my way down the street, away from my home in the Victors' Village where I will undoubtedly be spied on.
Miles Way, age 18
District 6 Male
That damned chihuahua won't shut up.
Sunny's high-pitched barks fill the house along with shouting coming from the kitchen. My heart races as I try to block out the loud noises. I understand that my mother was hoping that a dog would distract Tyra from her morphling, teach Carol responsibility, and brighten up the house in general. But couldn't she have gotten a mellow older dog who isn't a torture to her noise-sensitive son? I grit my teeth as I put on my best clothes for the Reaping. The Reaping isn't for a while, but I sure as hell am not going to stay home any longer than I have to.
"Who cares about her stupid morphling?!" Carol shouts, and I cringe. My younger sister is fifteen and an overgrown brat. She's loud and angry, everything has to be about her, and she gets worse when she isn't receiving the attention she desires. I can't believe Carol is putting herself above Tyra, who's twenty-two and struggling with morphling addiction.
"How could you say that, Carol?!" Mom yells back. I love my mother - she's kind and hardworking - but she doesn't have much of a filter and she can be overbearing sometimes. I don't blame her too much, though. Now that Dad's working as a tribute train conductor, Mom has to juggle her own job as well as take care of me, Tyra, and Carol. She really does try her best, so I give her plenty of space.
Mom and Carol continue to argue with Sunny barking nonstop in the background. Seriously, how is that dog not tired yet? I finish tying my tie, grab my acoustic guitar from its usual place next to my bed, and hurry towards the front door of my house. I pass Mom, Tyra, and Carol on the way out but I don't pay too much attention to them. Mom and Carol are too entrenched in their argument to notice me, and I hear Tyra say that she's gone five months without a hit and they should be proud of her. That's a lie. Mom found a needle under Tyra's pillow just under a week ago.
I'm about to slip quietly with my guitar out of the front door when I sigh and take a detour to toss a cheap dog biscuit to Sunny. That chihuahua annoys the hell out of me, but I do feel bad for her. She's just a dog whose family is too busy being dysfunctional to spend all that much time with her.
As Sunny pounces on the treat, I finally make my getaway from the loudness of my house. Outside, it's better, though the traffic sounds are annoying even on Reaping Day. It's a relatively short walk from my house to the Victors' Village, my destination. I sling my guitar bag over my shoulder as I start to my boyfriend Rodin's house.
Rodin Trainor is the Victor of the 41st Games, which he won as one of Panem's three fifteen-year-old Victors. The two of us go way back. On the first day of preschool Rodin heard me snoring during naptime. So he hit me on the head with his lunch box, and we've been best friends ever since. Rodin has gone through changes over the years from a self-centered young boy to a kind teenager to a haunted Victor, and our relationship has changed as well - after his Games we started dating - but in the end he's still Rodin.
I reach the iron gate of the Victors' Village in around thirty minutes. Since the security here is so good, I have to dial Rodin's house number on the keypad every time I come here. I don't mind the hassle, though, because his house feels like the only place I can get some peace and quiet these days.
"Who's there? What's your business with me?" Rodin's voice sounds sharply from the other end of the line. To many people his behavior may be weird, but I don't blame him for being skittish and paranoid since his Games.
"Hey Rodin, it's just me, Miles," I say.
"Oh my god, I'm so sorry," Rodin says, his tone changing quickly into one of guilt. "Man, why am I like this? Can't even have my boyfriend visit without me sounding like a prison interrogator. I'm sorry, Miles. Come on in."
The gate to the Victors' Village swings open, and I thank Rodin for letting me into the community before walking towards Rodin's house. I try to ignore the two armed guards who are patrolling the Victors' Village. At least it's much quieter here than where I live. I quickly reach Rodin's house, ring the doorbell, and wait for my boyfriend to answer the door.
I don't have to wait very long before the door opens, Rodin answering it with a smile. My heart feels like it's flying when I see him. He looks amazing, as usual, and is very visibly relaxed now that he's seeing me in person. I smile back.
"Hey, thanks for coming here, babe," Rodin says, moving forward and grabbing my face with his hands before giving me a long, deep kiss. I kiss him back hard, my heart pounding in my chest as my hands find their way to his waist and we step inside his house together. I know where this is going, but I don't mind it in the slightest. We make out passionately for a bit, but then a loud cough sounds from nearby and stop what we're doing, embarrassed.
"Geez you two, get a room, will you?" Rodin's sister Jetta says loudly from the one-person couch a few feet away, though she has an amused expression on her face. "I was right here all this time and if I hadn't said anything who knows what you two would've done in front of me."
"Wait, you were?" Rodin asks, visibly flustered. "Ah, I'm sorry. I was feeling stressed about the Reaping and when I saw that Miles was coming I had to… ya know…"
"Release some of that stress by doing hanky panky in front of your fifteen-year-old sister?" Jetta asks with a smirk.
"Geez, sis, for the last time, I forgot that you were here!" Rodin exclaims.
"Hey guys, I brought my guitar so do you want to have a jam session?" I ask, sensing an awkward situation and cutting in for Rodin's sake. Normally I'm not this assertive, but I want to help the boy I love.
"Ooh, that'd be fun," Jetta says. Rodin nods at me gratefully.
I smile at the Trainor siblings and pull my guitar out of its bag along with a pick. My acoustic guitar isn't the best - it's a bit small for me and it buzzes a lot when I try to strum it - but it was passed down to me as a family heirloom from my dad so it's my most treasured possession.
I feel my stress melt away as I lose myself in the music the three of us produce. Rodin's father ends up joining in, and even though Rodin's mother has never been much of a singer she always enjoys watching us have our fun. Today is no exception.
"Hey Miles," Rodin says when it's time for me to leave, "Thanks for coming over. I was feeling so anxious about the Reaping but the singing really helped."
"To be honest I just needed some peace and quiet from my family," I respond, "but I really did enjoy myself. So thanks, honestly."
"How's everyone?" Rodin asks, concern in his voice.
"Not getting worse but not getting better either," I sigh.
"Hey, if you need anything I'm your man," Rodin says gently, giving me a quick hug. "Especially after all you've done for me."
"I love you, Rodin," I say with a smile. "You really mean a lot to me."
I see Jetta sticking her tongue out in a disgusted face in the background, so I say goodbye to my boyfriend and his family before his spunky little sister can complain too much.
I walk home with a brisk pace, hoping that I haven't missed much. I may have negative feelings towards my sisters, but I wouldn't leave them to walk to the Reaping without me.
As it turns out, according to Mom, while I was away at Rodin's house Tyra wandered away from home and had to be brought back by Mercedes Fletcher, a girl we barely know even though she's the daughter of a Six Victor. I feel embarrassed about this, so I say a quick apology to my mother, who responds by hugging me and saying that she hopes I'll be safe.
"Let's go already!" Carol shouts from the front of the house.
"We'd better head out," Mom sighs, and I nod, smoothing the wrinkles out of my Reaping clothes and following my mother out the door.
Aria Shah, age 50
District 6 Escort
I hate being an escort.
I was welcomed into the escorting business two years ago with open arms because everyone was happy to see me in the public eye again after my retirement from my old career as an idol singer. I wanted to do something to serve Panem, and I thought it would be interesting to do something new and different, which is why I took the job.
I found my duties to be easy enough, but I quickly discovered that I hated being an escort for the annual Hunger Games. It was awful helping and getting attached to two children, only to watch them die. District 6 is a dreary place as well, with its urban decay, lack of color, and drug problem. I soon realized that being an escort was a bad idea, especially for someone like me who was never too enthusiastic about the Hunger Games. I mean, I understand why they exist and they serve a necessary purpose, but they really are barbaric.
The only reason why I did not retire after that first year is the fact that I have far too much pride to only be an escort for one or two years - after all, only the escorts not fit for their jobs leave their positions that quickly. Three years is a reasonable amount of time, though. After this year, I'm going to announce my retirement from my position and think of another way to serve Panem.
"How are you doing, Sonata?" Aston Fletcher asks kindly from his seat next to me.
Aston is the Victor of the 28th Games, but thanks to the way he won his Games we don't talk about him or his Games much. He's under constant monitoring by the Capitol thanks to what he did, and part of the reason why he isn't dead is that he agreed to mentor every year so that he could be under closer observation. I personally wish that they'd cut Aston some slack. He's a kind man, and he hasn't done anything problematic since his Games.
Sonata Wheeler, Victor of the 4th Games, sighs. The old woman still shows signs of prolonged morphling use, with the bags under her eyes and her slightly discolored skin, but she at least looks better than when I last saw her.
"I haven't touched morphling in three months," she says slowly.
"You've really done well," Aston replies with a smile. "You're getting better."
"Thanks for suggesting that I mentor this year, Aston," Sonata says, smiling slightly back. "I hope it'll let me move around a bit and take my mind off the morphling."
"And thank you for trying your best," Aston says. "Hang in there."
"I don't know where I'd be if Rodin hadn't won," Sonata murmurs. "It was thanks to him that I finally started trying to get better… I'm sorry, Aston. I'm sorry for pushing you away all these years when you only wanted to help me."
"Let's focus on the present," Aston says, giving Sonata's hand a gentle squeeze. "We'll try our best to get one of our tributes home this year."
I find myself smiling slightly to myself. I suppose that despite the dreariness of District 6, people are still kind to each other.
Then Mayor Ford walks to the microphone to begin the Reaping, and I frown. He's lazy and corrupt, and the reason why Six has such a poverty and drug problem. I notice that he hasn't made any effort to interact with the District team all this time, but then I realize that I haven't really talked to Aston and Sonata either. I make a mental note to do my job better. I may not like being an escort, but I do want to be kind.
After the Mayor finishes his obligatory speech welcoming the District to the 44th Annual Hunger Games, he turns things over to me. I stand up and give a sad smile to the cameras as I walk towards the microphone.
Unlike some escorts, I understand that the Reaping is a somber occasion and I try to reflect that in my presentation. I still inject a bit of Capitol flair into my appearance, though, because that's what the people back home want. I end up with an outfit that's muted yet elegant: a floor-length, dark purple dress that perfectly complements my lavender skin and long black hair.
"Hello, District 6, and welcome to the Reaping for the 44th Annual Hunger Games," I say, looking out into the crowd. "My name is Aria Shah and I'm your escort for the Games. May the odds be ever in your favor, and I will start by choosing a female tribute."
Traditionally the girls are picked first, and then the boys. Some escorts like to mix things up by sometimes going in the other order, but I'm not one to inject uncertainty into the Reapings. So I walk over to the female Reaping Bowl, pick out a name, and return to the microphone.
No, I think when I read the name on the slip of paper, but there's nothing I can do about it.
"Will Mercedes Fletcher please come to the stage?" I say.
Aston Fletcher's daughter makes her way out of the crowd of sixteen-year-old girls. She looks far more calm and collected than she did when she was Reaped four years ago as a twelve-year-old. Still, I feel my stomach knot. I have a feeling that nobody will volunteer for Mercedes this time around.
"Are there any volunteers for Mercedes?" I ask, not expecting any but giving the crowd some time anyways. When it is clear that there won't be a volunteer, I let out a small sigh.
"District 6, your female tribute for the 44th Annual Hunger Games, Mercedes Fletcher," I announce, feeling bad that Aston will most likely lose his daughter. I look over at Aston, and it's clear that he can barely contain his emotions, as he's wiping away a tear.
"Let's meet our boy tribute now," I say, hoping that Aston will be okay. Already feeling upset by the fact that I'll have to guide Aston Fletcher's daughter through the Games, I move quickly to retrieve a slip from the boys' Reaping Bowl. I don't recognize the name on this one so hopefully things will be easier with this tribute.
"Will Miles Way please come to the stage!" I say into the microphone.
"Miles, no!" a voice screams from the section of fifteen-year-old females - a sister, perhaps? - before a dark-skinned boy steps gingerly out of the section of eighteen-year-old boys. He looks down and shields his face from the cameras as he hurries onto the stage and comes to a stop next to Mercedes. Miles looks down, clearly shaking.
"Are there any volunteers for Miles?" I ask, but there are none. I study the tributes in front of me. Miles is trying not to cry, while Mercedes is looking at him with something resembling pity but definitely isn't that. I'm not sure who stands a better chance. Mercedes certainly was more composed, but since she's Aston Fletcher's daughter…
"District 6, your tributes for the 44th Annual Hunger Games are Miles Way and Mercedes Fletcher!" I announce out of obligation. "Tributes, shake hands."
Mercedes and Miles do so slowly, and I force a smile to the audience before turning things back to the lazy excuse of a Mayor. I'm already feeling a sense of dread for having to guide Aston Fletcher's daughter through the Games, and I'm sure I'll miss Miles dearly as well.
At least this is my last year.
Mercedes Fletcher, age 16
District 6 Female
Of course this shit would happen. Just as I was thinking that maybe I was as safe as everyone else during Reapings, I was rigged into the Games. It has to be rigged. Why else would the tributes this year be the loved ones of two Victors?
I punch a pillow and plop down onto the fancy couch of the Goodbye Room angrily. This is all my father's fault. He could've won his Games in a non-rebellious way, but no, he had to make the Capitol look bad by climbing aboard one of the hovercraft used to retrieve tribute corpses and knocking out the pilot. How does one even think of such a stupid strategy? And how does one actually go through with the plan and use it to become a Victor?
I've watched my father's Games - the 28th, which never gets spoken of - multiple times and I still don't understand why and how he did what he did. What's worse is that he put my mother in danger by marrying her almost immediately after his Games. My father has told me that Mom was his girlfriend before he went into the Games, and they both hoped that him having a family would put less of a target on his back. Well, he had me, but less than a year after I was born my mother died mysteriously, and it looks like I've become a Capitol target for being my father's daughter.
Way to go, Aston Fletcher. You ruined not only your life but mine as well.
I have exactly three visitors, but I'm not exactly in the mood to really talk to any of them. The first is Rodin Trainor. Since Rodin, Victor of the 41st Games, is my neighbor in the Victor's Village, he's probably the closest thing I have to a friend even though I keep my distance from him like I do with everyone else. He keeps his visit brief, which is understandable because my District Partner, Miles, is his boyfriend.
My second visitor is Clear Toyoda, the electronics shop owner who wishes me luck, suggests that I put my skill with electronics to use, and says they'll miss me. I receive a hug from them, but I hope that for their sake they move on from my inevitable death sooner as opposed to later.
My third visitor is unexpected. Mrs. Way, my District Partner's mother, comes into the room and thanks me for bringing her eldest daughter home today and other days.
"You're a kind girl, Mercedes," she says after giving me a brief hug. "If my son can't win, I hope you do."
I don't have the heart to tell her that I'm probably doomed.
Miles Anderson Way, age 18
District 6 Male
Rodin wanted to have some time to talk to me alone. After my family visited, bringing their hugs and tears, Rodin's family came in to say they'll miss me and to wish me luck. Jetta waves at me sadly from the door before it shuts behind her and her parents.
"Look, Miles, I don't have much time so I'll cut right to the chase," Rodin says with his hands on my shoulders. "I wish I was mentoring this year but I'm not so I'll have to give you Victor's advice now. Do you remember how I won my Games?"
"Yeah, but I'm not sure if I can pull it off," I say hesitantly. Rodin won his Games with his great strategy - he went through them as a loner, not allying with or trusting anyone and appearing average and forgettable to his fellow tributes. However, once the Games started he won the favor of the Capitol by performing interesting feats such as climbing to the highest point of the Arena and making a trap that set its victims on fire. Rodin has always been more daring than me, though, and I don't think I have it in me to kill someone even if it's necessary in the Games.
"You can at least not ally with anyone and coast through the middle of the crowd at first, right?" Rodin asks.
"That won't be too hard, I guess," I say slowly. "It's the killing and stunts that I'm not sure I can do."
"Well, if you're lucky maybe you can get by without that part," Rodin says, "but please, Miles, please try to come home. I don't want to lose you."
"I'll try my best," I say, leaning in and giving my boyfriend a hug.
After all, trying my best is the least I can do.
A/N: Thank you 04darkwarrior1 for submitting Mercedes, our District 6 Female, and thanks AmericanPi for submitting Miles, our District 6 Male! What do you think of Mercedes, Miles, and Aria? If I wrote your character, how did I do? Please let me know what you think of the characters and the chapter in the reviews!
Next up will be the District 7 Reaping, which will introduce Ruby Rodriguez and Luca Springe.
Thanks for reading, and may the odds be ever in your favor!