Chapter 8

NARRATOR | Twila Pollard, District 12

"Twila," Lucretia snaps. "Pay attention."

I glare at my mentor before returning my attention to the broadcast in front of us. Lucretia insists that we need to watch all of the Reapings, but what does it matter? I'll see all these people in the Capitol, and I'm sure any of them could kill me easily.

"Okay," Lucretia says, flipping through her annoying little notepad. "District Eight, Karla and Vinny. Karla seems reserved, I'll have to keep an eye on her. Vinny will be a major threat, I can tell already."

I roll my eyes, trying as hard as I can to tune my mentor out. District Twelve is the only District in Panem without a living Victor; I can't even remember the last time a tribute from Twelve lasted past the first few days of the Games. What that means is that Wyatt and I are forced to pair up with Capitol-assigned mentors. What that also means is that we're chained to the most annoying people on the planet.

"Okay, Seven is next," Lucretia says, opening a new page in her notebook. From what she's told me, I know that she's a student in some Capitol academy. Only a little older than me, I think. Apparently, she gets extra credit based on how well I do in the Games.

"Do you graduate automatically if I win?" I remember asking her when we first met a few hours ago. She didn't like that very much.

"District Seven is one to watch this year, Valentina," one of the Hosts says. She's dressed in all green; her name is listed on-screen. VENIA SHARPE. Next to her, the other host is dressed in red. Her name's Valentina Remington; according to Lucretia, these two used to be famous actresses before they became the hosts of the Hunger Games a few years ago.

"That's right, Venia," Valentina agrees. "We've just heard from our sources, who have confirmed that the female tribute from District Seven is in fact related to a tribute from a past Games. Violet Chappelle is related to... wanna take a guess?"

"Logan Chappelle, right?" Venia guesses. "I remember that name."

"Correct!" Valentina exclaims. "Now, it looks like Violet volunteered to participate in this year's Games, but we have not yet discovered why she chose to volunteer."

"Only time will tell," Venia says with a nod. "And don't forget about her partner!"

"Of course," Valentina smiles. "Ansel Voltaire is his name, and he looks like he could be a contender. Strong physique for sure; if he is skilled with an ax, he could be one to watch out for."

Next to me, Lucretia scribbles in her notebook. Internally, I'm groaning at this news. District Nine already had a volunteer, and it looks like the two tributes already knew each other beforehand. Now, another girl has a famous brother from a past Games. How many of these tributes are going to have attention-grabbing stories before we even arrive in the Capitol?

The tributes pass one by one, and I sink lower and lower into my seat. If I thought I had a sliver of a chance, that's out the window now. These kids are here to win, and I'm just trying not to be the first to die.

When we arrive in the Capitol, I get to see the other tributes up close and personal. Before that, though, I get dragged through what can only be described as pure hell.

"They're just gonna clean you up a bit," Lucretia had told me. They did a whole lot more than that.

After "cleaning me up," my stylists shove me into this ridiculous miner outfit. Do these people seriously think that anyone would wear this in Twelve? The miners just wear their usual clothes as far as I know - we're all too worried about starving to death to worry about what to wear to work. I have this plastic hard hat on with dirty denim overalls. Not the most flattering look.

Finally, my stylists send me down a long hallway to the carriages. I'm one of the first tributes to arrive - makes sense considering how awful my outfit is. A few of the tributes are already here, though, and they watch as I pass by.

I see the girl from Four laughing as I pass by. Evelyn's her name. She's dressed in this beautiful gown covered in fish scales, and here I am, covered in filth. I shrink away from her gaze as I pass by.

Wyatt is already on the last carriage. He reaches down, grabbing my hand and helping me onto our chariot.

"I'm going to kill our stylists," he mutters, turning to face the front of our pedestal. "We're already about to be killed in front of a million people, did they have to humiliate us before they killed us?"

Honestly, Wyatt doesn't look too bad in his miner outfit. That's probably because he doesn't look bad in anything, though. He's been blessed with the gift of good looks, and that's something that transcends horrible fashion.

Wyatt's from the Seam, but he's less short and scrawny than most of the kids in our District. Makes sense, though - he's not as poor as the rest of us. He's had a full stomach for a while now; I can't say the same.

When Peacekeepers burnt down the black market in District Twelve, it ruined almost everyone. My family didn't have a source of income anymore without my father's business - to sell something in Twelve, you need a storefront in the city, and we had no way to afford one. We've tried to re-establish some sort of trading network in Twelve without a central hub, but that's harder than it sounds.

Wyatt's skated by somehow, though. Everyone knows why, but nobody talks about it. From what I've heard, he's sold the only thing that the wealthy women in Twelve will still buy: his body. Can't say I blame him; he's kept food on the table, and that's not something I can say.

The other tributes start to filter in. I watch as the two kids from Eleven enter together, helping each other onto the chariot. The girl has flowers weaved into her hair, and it looks like both of their outfits are decorated with flower petals.

As more tributes start to arrive, Lucretia arrives as well. She walks in with Pontus, Wyatt's mentor.

"You look great," Lucretia says when she reaches our cart, but I'm not sure that she means it. "Remember, eyes up and wide smiles."

"You're the last ones in line, so make it count," Pontus says. "Make a lasting impression."

"Got it," Wyatt says, watching as the kids from Ten climb onto their chariot.

"Tributes, please mount," a voice booms over a speaker nearby. "The parade will begin in sixty seconds."

"Good luck!" Lucretia cheers, dragging Pontus away from our chariot.

Wyatt is silent next to me, so I focus on the tributes ahead of me. The Careers from Two are finally here - it looks like they're dressed in elaborate sets of metal armor. I can see the sparkling outfits on the kids from One all the way back here.

Finally, the Panem anthem begins, and the chariots are off. One by one, the tributes pass beneath the archway and into the eyes of the Capitol spectators.

"Good luck," I tell Wyatt. Maybe he doesn't hear me, but he keeps his eyes trained forward as we pass beneath the archway.

As soon as we enter the parade, I'm floored by how many people are here. Sure, I've seen the Tribute Parade on broadcasts to Twelve before, but I never thought it was anything like this. Rows and rows of people going up and up... And they're all here to see us.

"Come on," Wyatt grunts, lifting his arm up to wave at the audience. I follow his lead, plastering on the most excited smile I can muster. Already, I can tell that we're not getting much of a response. Most of the eyes I can see are pointed at the District Eleven chariot; we might as well not be here.

People in the audience start to throw objects onto the walkway; I have to duck to avoid someone's shoe as it flies over me. At the end of the walkway, Wyatt manages to catch a rose, and I see him hold it between his teeth. We hear cheers from the audience, but it's too late. We're already at the end of the parade now. Above us, President Snow watches as our chariot comes to a stop.

Our chariot pulls in next to the District Five tributes. I glance over to see the girl staring at Wyatt as we approach. She catches my gaze, turning back to face President Snow as he begins his speech.

"Welcome, all, to the Opening Ceremonies of the 98th Hunger Games!" Snow booms, met with a cheering crowd.

"Tributes, we welcome you to the Capitol," Snow says, glancing down at our chariots for a brief moment. "We thank you for your bravery... and your sacrifice."

More cheers from the crowd; I think I'm going to be nauseous. Out of the corner of my eye, I see Wyatt glance at me, but he doesn't say anything.

"Our esteemed Head Gamemaker this year is new to the position," Snow announces, "but I can assure you all, these Games are in very good hands. Please give a warm welcome to Caius Thorntree."

The crowd cheers as a man stands behind Snow, giving the crowd a wave. He looks young, maybe in his mid-twenties. I recognize his last name - could he be related to the Head Gamemaker from the last few Games? If he is, I don't want to think about what tricks he has in store for us.

"Tributes, may the odds be ever in your favor," Snow says. "Panem today, Panem tomorrow... Panem forever."

The Panem anthem begins to play as our chariots pull away. Snow doesn't even look at us as he waves out at the adoring crowd. As we duck out of sight, Wyatt throws his rose to the ground, and we watch as it's crushed beneath the wheels of our chariot.

"Let the Games begin," he sighs.

May the odds be ever in our favor.

A/N - And the Reapings are finally finished! With all the tributes gathered in the Capitol, this concludes the informal "part one" of this story. A new portion of this story is about to begin, hope y'all are excited :)

~S