Callum Cadogan, 17
District One Male, he/him
As he sits in the waiting room inside the Justice Building, it occurs to Callum that he hasn't exactly prepared for what he's going to say to anyone that visits him.
He takes a moment to try and think things through. His mother will be devastated – after all, she's been trying to prevent this sort of thing from happening for years. Hopefully, she'll understand why he needed to do this, as well as why he didn't tell her in advance. Callum hardly told anyone in advance, after all. He doesn't want anyone to worry more than they should.
Next will be Thelonius. Though Callum has never known his father, Thelonius is the closest thing to a father he has. The old man will probably be visibly disappointed in him, but he's always understood that when Callum puts his mind to something, it's impossible to talk him out of it. Not that he can be talked out of much at this point. He's firmly in the clutches of the Games, and the only way to escape is to fight his way out. He may not be formally trained, but he's learned enough over the years that he won't be completely useless when he hits the Arena.
Or, at least, that's what he hopes.
As for his friends… well, they'll be a mixed bag. Alannah will be a mess, and Callum will have to try not to cry with her. He's pretty doubtful that his attempts to stay strong will work, but he remains hopeful nonetheless. Julian might be too stiff and awkward to do much more than pat Callum on the back and wish him luck, but he'll take what he can get. Orlando and Galvan will be exceedingly worried and put on vastly different shows to try and cover up their nerves, but neither will be particularly effective. And Quentin's the only one that Callum told in advance, so the shock is out of his system. He's been a mix of emotions, most of them hinged on the fact that he hates everything about this idea, but Callum isn't easily swayed. Seth will probably just straight up panic, which will be somewhat reassuring considering Callum's getting there himself. It'll be nice not to be the most stressed person in the room, and ideally that'll let Callum get his head back on straight.
And all that's left is Rhydian himself.
Callum's nervous. More nervous than he'd like to admit. It's only been a few minutes, but he still remembers how Rhydian looked when Callum volunteered for him, easily taking his place as the chosen tribute. Despair, anger, and betrayal flickered across his face, but he quickly stowed them away. The entire District was watching. Now wasn't the time to make a scene.
More than that, there had been no way for Rhydian to fight back against his choice – his own name had come out of the reaping ball, and Callum volunteered. As everyone in District One knew, rules were rules. A volunteer couldn't be taken back.
Callum had resigned himself to the Games weeks ago, but now… now it was real.
Callum had been keeping himself calm by thinking through everyone else's reactions, but in the brief lull as he waits for peacekeepers to let someone back to visit him, he takes a moment for himself to sort out his thoughts.
He keeps coming back to how he's nervous. Really, really nervous. Making the decision to volunteer obviously isn't something that he's taken lightly, so his nerves are more based in what everyone else will think. Particularly Rhydian. He doesn't need his best friend to understand now, but he hopes that Rhydian will understand eventually. And even if he didn't, Callum would still go back and make the same decision again. Even if Rhydian is angry at him, angry at the world, Callum would rather him be safe than happy. It's as simple as that.
But still – would Rhydian ever be able to understand that? His father's been brainwashing him with that training nonsense for years, and Callum can't override that in such a short time. This is all for Rhydian's benefit, even if he can't see it right now.
He's only ever wanted to help Rhydian. Callum is saving him from the future he was being shoehorned into, the one he doesn't deserve. His friend has always deserved so much better, and Callum is more than willing to pay the price for him.
"What the fuck is wrong with you?"
Callum's head snaps up immediately. He should've known that Rhydian would insist on being the first one in the room. He should've known that no amount of time would ever be enough to prepare him for this conversation.
"Rhydian," he says quietly. Callum shifts, mouth opening and closing as he tries to determine what else to say, how to explain his actions.
He doesn't get the chance.
"Don't give me that," Rhydian sneers. He's clearly defaulted to anger, which Callum can't quite blame him for right now. Rhydian begins pacing across the room from Callum, clearly avoiding his gaze. "I don't want to hear anything out of your mouth unless it's a damn good explanation for what just happened. Or– scratch that, I doubt you have any explanation at all. Not one I want to hear, anyway. Did you even think?"
He did, in fact. Callum put a great deal of thought into this decision, even if no one else seems to think so. "Rhydian, I-"
"No, you clearly didn't," Rhydian says, answering his own question. "Because if you did think, you would know that this ruins everything. How am I supposed to go face my father after this? How am I supposed to face anyone after this? And you- you were supposed to be my best friend. I thought you understood how much all of this meant to me."
"I still am your best friend," Callum says, nails biting into his palms. "That's why I did all of this. You can stay here and safe, instead of-"
"Instead of what?" Rhydian's voice cracks, but he continues on. "Instead of dying? Is that what this is about? You don't think I'm capable?"
"That's not it! I just-"
Rhydian trembles with barely suppressed rage. "You're not understanding me, Callum," he bites out, fists clenched at his sides. "You took everything from me. I've worked my entire life for this, and now- and now some untrained idiot is going to die out there."
"What, so you don't think I can come back?"
Rhydian forces out a laugh, the sound harsh and grating in Callum's ears. "Don't you dare. You clearly didn't think I could come back."
Flinching, Callum tries to summon his thoughts, trying desperately to figure out what to do. He always expected Rhydian's reaction to be… less than pleasant, but now that he's suffering under the force of Rhydian's wrath, Callum is at a loss. He can't decide if he should be quiet and just take it, or if he should try to explain his position on the matter. Despite how things seem, he's doing this for Rhydian. He just needs Rhydian to understand.
"That's not true-"
"Isn't it?" Rhydian seethes, temper flaring against Callum for the first time in years. "Then I'd really love for you to explain this one to me. Is it because you don't trust me enough to come back alive? Because you don't trust that I can make my own decisions without your help? There's clearly some level of mistrust here, considering you went behind my back to do all of this. Is there something else I don't know about?"
There are a lot of things Rhydian doesn't know about, but Callum gets the sense that now isn't the best time to share. And, more than anything, he's beginning to realize that nothing either of them had to say would sway the other's opinion.
He finally lands on, "I don't think any of it particularly matters right now."
"So there's more," Rhydian says, looking strangely defeated. "How long have you been lying to me? How long have you been planning this? Don't you think I deserve to at least know that much?"
"A while," Callum blurts out before he can stop himself.
Rhydian makes a noise that sounds almost like a choked sob. "You don't even know what you've done. You've ruined fucking everything."
I'm helping you and you can't even see that. "I didn't-"
"No, let me explain this to you, since you clearly don't understand," Rhydian snaps. "I've worked my entire life for this. I'm a Magnusson, I've been raised for this since the day I was born. And in one moment, you took every year of my hard work and threw it down the drain. Do you understand that?"
"I do, but-"
"No, Callum. There are no buts here, and you're a fucking moron if you think differently. I'm more prepared for this than you ever could be. Is that it? Did you want to steal away the honor and glory because you couldn't manage to get it for yourself? Now all you've done is ruin the legacy of the District, and they'll quickly lose any sense of respect they had for you. Just like I did."
Callum's mouth snaps shut. Any further rebuttals are wiped clean out of his mind. He very quickly looks away, trying to school his expression into one of blandness. This is the sort of thing he expected, but that doesn't mean it didn't hurt.
I'm doing this for you, he wants to say. I'm doing this because I care about you more than anything.
Rhydian laughs again, and when Callum looks up, his friend's eyes are wet. He wipes at his face with his sleeve, shaking his head. "And you… you can't even bother to say you're sorry. You're not sorry, are you? I'd rather you not lie to me anymore."
"I'm not," Callum says honestly. "I'd do it again."
Scoffing, Rhydian stares at the door, where peacekeepers are likely to come through any minute. It's as if all the fight has been drained out of him. "Right," he mutters. "Right. At least I know what you really think of me now. Nothing's really changed. I suppose the least I can do is even the score."
Callum blinks, wondering what that's supposed to mean. It doesn't take long for Rhydian to tell him.
"I hate you," Rhydian proclaims, the words falling out easily. "You've done something you can never take back, and I hope you die knowing that's the case. Everything that's coming your way is a result of your own actions. And…" He struggles to find the right words for a moment before nodding sharply. "And I hope I never see you again."
No matter how hard Callum tries to tell himself that this is just Rhydian's hurt feelings talking, the words still sting. Callum swiftly averts his eyes, trying not to think too hard about how his best friend essentially just wished him dead.
The door opens and then closes.
He can hear a slight shuffle on the other side of the door, and Callum knows that he'll have more visitors soon. His time is running out, but this is a fact that Callum has known since the day he decided to volunteer. For now, he'll make the most with what he's got. Whether he comes home or not, Callum knows he's made the right decision.
As for Rhydian, Callum also knows that his words were only what he felt in the moment. At the end of the day, Callum loves his friend more than anything, and that's why, instead of taking those words to heart, he's already forgiven Rhydian.
He only worries that Rhydian will never forgive him in return.
Nolan Okorie, 18
District Eleven Male, he/him
In one fell swoop, all of Nolan's future plans have gone flying out the window.
It's almost funny, really. Nolan's life has been ruined more than a few times, most by his own hand, but he's clearly peaked here. After everything he's been through, Nolan just had to make it through one more reaping day and he'd be free to leave. District Eleven is nearly endless, and Nolan dreamed of the day he could steal off to a remote farm, where he'd never be seen again.
But now all of that has been stripped away from him. Nolan's name came out of the reaping bowl… and his first instinct was to run. His first instinct has always been to run, to search out the freedom that he's been denied for so long, but he was quickly caught and taken back. Nolan was forced to stand in front of the crowd, recognizing faces here and there – particularly the faces of his parents and sisters, who stared at him with thinly concealed expressions of shock and horror.
It's strange. Nolan never considered what would happen if he was reaped. It's never exactly been a priority of his. The room where he'll be making his final goodbyes is dark and quiet, but at the very least, it's not lonely. His parents and sisters sit across from him, still too stunned to say anything.
He's lost a lot over the years, but Nolan never expected to get any of it back.
(And, really, what can Nolan offer his family? It's far too late for any kind of apology. Nolan has lived the last few years considering it best that they continue believing he's dead – after all, he's sure their lives are much better without him in it.)
(Or maybe that's just what he keeps telling himself. Nolan doesn't know if he could handle losing them again.)
He keeps his head bowed, unsure if he should open his mouth to speak. Nolan never prepared himself for this possibility. Should he apologize for not reaching out? Should he apologize for leaving in the first place? There are about a million things he could say, but in the few moments where he has one last chance, Nolan can't come up with anything worthwhile.
"Why?"
The first to speak up is his mother. Nolan glances over and sees her wipe a few tears from her cheek. She sniffles delicately, gaze firmly fixed on her hands.
"Why what?" Nolan asks, voice unusually hushed. He's never been good at reasoning out his own actions, and his mother's question is vague enough that he hopes she can narrow it down for him.
"Why didn't you… Why didn't you come back? You know we would've- we would've let you."
Beside their mother, Nina's lips tighten. Nolan was never particularly close with his older sister, but he can still tell when she's irritated, so he braces himself for whatever she has to say as she fixes her eyes firmly on Nolan.
"Don't worry about mincing words, Ma. We thought you were fucking dead. Does that mean nothing to you?"
"Of course not," Nolan argues, sitting up straighter. "It's- it's more complicated than that."
"I'd love to hear an explanation," Nina snaps. Her gaze is unmerciful, pinning Nolan down until he squirms. "Three years is a long time. And talk fast, because you don't exactly have much time, do you?"
No, he doesn't. Nolan has never been more aware of this fact. He swallows, eyes darting around the room before briefly landing on his younger sister, Nora. She's the only one still refusing to look up at him; she's the one Nolan wants to look at him the most.
"I escaped," Nolan decides on. He winces as he hears his mother gasp. "So I couldn't come see you, or else I'd put you in danger. My plan was to wait out the reapings, but… well, that clearly didn't work."
"'Wait out the reapings,'" Nina repeats slowly. "If that was your plan, then what were you going to do after?"
Nolan sucks in a careful breath. He knows the answer she's looking for, and it's one he can't truthfully give. "I was going to disappear," he says. His words are detached but honest, making each member of his family squirm uncomfortably. "Run off to some distant corner of Eleven, where I couldn't cause trouble again. And… and no, I wasn't going to reach out to you."
"Coward," Nina spits out. "Were you too much of a coward to face us after everything you put us through?"
"Nina," his mother chides softly, but Nolan can tell her heart isn't in it. "You can't just-"
"I can, Ma," Nina insists. Her hands tremble violently in her lap, and Nora silently grabs one, squeezing gently. "I just… was it too much to ask? For you to care about us in return?"
His father coughs, and Nolan's shoulders hunch in anticipation. The older man takes time to gather his thoughts, rubbing his jaw. "This isn't easy for any of us," he says slowly, carefully. "The circumstances… If only I'd known back then… maybe I could've…"
Maybe I could've done something to stop this.
Nolan almost wants to laugh. Ever since he was a kid, Nolan has felt so horrendously out of control of his own life that it seems foolish to try and think about what ifs. He's always done things without thinking about potential consequences, and when questioned, he can never come up with a sufficient reason why. Coming back, his family clearly has decided to shoulder the blame themselves, but this has only ever been Nolan's fault.
"I am sorry," he says. "For everything. It's too little too late now, but… but I need you to know that I am sorry."
"If you're sorry, then come back."
Nora's voice is just as sweet and quiet as Nolan remembers, but she's clearly grown up a lot in the past few years. She and Nolan were the closest when they were kids, and their relationship is the one Nolan missed the most in his time away. They were similar in all the ways that mattered, but Nora was able to forge her own path, focusing on her schooling. Last time Nolan saw her, she'd been openly weeping. Now, she firmly holds Nolan's gaze, eyes hard and unrelenting.
"Come back?" he repeats, slightly stunned.
His sister nods her head firmly. "If you're sorry, then go into the Arena and do whatever it takes to come back. You left us, and this is your chance to make it right."
When Nora puts it like that, everything seems so easy. Come back. Make it right. Nolan doesn't know how to tell her that if there's one thing he learned during his time in jail, it's that the world is a lot crueler than anyone could imagine. Nolan's lost a lot, and if he opens himself up to the possibility of gaining some of it back, he doesn't know if he can stand the inevitable outcome.
"I'll try," he says. It's the best he can give her for now.
"Trying isn't enough," she insists. "Say you'll come back."
Nina puts a placating hand on her sister's arm. "Nora," she chides gently. "That's enough."
"No! It's not enough!" Nora insists, snatching her arm away. She rises to her feet hastily, leaving the other four members of the Okorie family to stare at her trembling form. "It's not! It can't end like this!"
"This isn't the end," Nolan finds himself saying. "It's… a second chance. A new beginning. A way for me to make things right. If you'll let me."
He doesn't know what possessed him to say something so blatantly optimistic, but his words seem to soothe Nora. A slight shudder passes over his body, and he quickly understands that even in death, Ryker is trying his best to help. Nolan silently thanks him for it.
"We'll always let you," his mother says, eyes still brimming with tears. "All we've ever wanted is for you to come back to us."
His jaw clenches, and Nolan merely nods. It's too late for him to go back and fix things, but even if he could, he'd never choose to put his family in danger. He can only assume that he's been reaped because of his escape, and if he'd chosen to go back home, he would've hated seeing Nora reaped in his place as a punishment. This way was the best way, even if it still caused his family unimaginable suffering.
(Was there ever another way? Has Nolan Okorie ever truly stood a chance? Or is this all he was ever meant to be?)
The door swings open, and a peacekeeper steps in. Suddenly, their time together feels like too little, too much, never enough, and Nolan is on the verge of panicking. He gets to his feet unsteadily, unsure of what else he's supposed to do.
His parents move towards the door first, amidst bland goodbyes that hardly sink into Nolan's skull. He thinks he remembers to wave and mumble something in return, but they're gone before he can think too hard about it. The only ones left in the room are his sisters, who merely exchange a glance before Nora approaches him.
Nolan initially balks at how close she is, but his hesitance doesn't last long. He opens his arms just barely, and Nora seizes the chance to latch her arms around his waist. Nolan stumbles slightly, caught off guard by the intensity, but her touch is gone too quickly. It's been a long while since Nolan felt any sort of kind physical contact, and he has to shove down his own sense of longing for it.
"I'll see you soon," Nora says, a smile flickering across her face. She turns on her heel quickly, and Nolan swears he hears sniffling as she goes.
Nina is the last one out, and she pauses just inside the doorway. Nolan watches as she searches for the right words, before settling on, "Don't fuck it up."
He's not given the chance to respond before the door closes behind her, and then Nolan is left alone in the room, just as he expected to be all along. He knows there's no chance of anyone else visiting him, and so Nolan merely hangs his head and breathes.
Come back. Make it right. Don't fuck it up.
For better or for worse, this is Nolan Okorie's final set of tasks. Whatever awaits him on the other side of the Arena will finally give him the freedom he's long been searching for.
Zephyr Vitale, 18
District Seven Tribute, he/they
Zephyr Vitale has been dreading this part for days.
Since the moment he knew they had to volunteer, Zephyr was up front about his intentions to almost everyone. They immediately told their mother, who wept and told him he didn't have to. He went and told Galenos, who understood their true reasoning without Zephyr having to explain. Zephyr even told Kiki, who would otherwise be too much of an anxious mess if she caught wind that they were hiding something from her.
They made sure to tell everyone in his life – or, at least, everyone that mattered. The last thing Zephyr ever wants is to hurt the ones he loves, which is what got them in this situation in the first place.
But by the time Zephyr reaches the end of their goodbyes, he knows there's only one person left. The one he dreads the most.
(The one he loves the most.)
Now, it's not that Zephyr intentionally hid anything from Zaidra. They've gone their entire lives with the other by their side. Zephyr's intentions have always been to be honest when it comes to Zaidra, and she's made her intentions clear as well. She wants nothing to do with Zephyr, and he's done his best to respect that.
Still, Zephyr finds themself pacing in the room as soon as his mother leaves, spinning a black feather between their fingers. It's anyone's guess as to what Zaidra's reaction will be, and the more time passes, the more nervous Zephyr gets. Part of them hopes that their twin will come in and the two will be able to reconcile things, but he worries that they're past that. The last thing he wants to do is go into the Games knowing that their relationship with Zaidra is ruined beyond what they can fix.
"Why didn't you tell me?"
He spins around, breathing out softly as he faces his sister. They were so lost in their thoughts that he didn't hear her coming in. The door snicks shut behind her, and then it's only the two of them in the room.
The distance between them has never felt so large, so insurmountable. Zephyr knows without a doubt that they've fucked up along the way, but he always believed that he and Zaidra would be able to come together again.
Now, they're not so sure.
"You told me you didn't care what I did," Zephyr said quietly. "When I made the decision, you said-"
Zaidra scoffs and stalks farther into the room. "What, so you told everyone but me? Really shows where your loyalties are, dear brother."
"Don't tell me about my loyalties," Zephyr snaps. "I'm only volunteering-"
"For what? For me and Mom?" Zaidra laughs bitterly and shakes her head. "I've heard that one a million times before, Zeph. Didn't you think that Mom could use your help more here? How's she supposed to watch you throw your life away for her?"
"That's not what I'm doing," Zephyr insists. "We need more money, the treatments aren't enough anymore. We can't keep doing this forever."
"Right," she mutters. "Perfect, golden little Zephyr, throwing himself directly into the line of fire so he can save the day. But if you die, where does that leave us?"
"It leaves you here and safe," Zephyr says, taking a step forward. They try not to be hurt by how Zaidra sidesteps their outstretched hand. "I have it all under control. Galenos will keep an eye on you, and I have some savings stored aside, and-"
"And you're leaving us," Zaidra hisses, eyes flaring. "You know what that makes you?"
"Don't, Zaidra."
"That makes you just like Dad."
"We're not having this conversation again."
Zephyr tries to turn away, resuming their absentminded pacing, but Zaidra is right on his heels. "Why not?" she asks, voice beginning to rise. "Are you too much of a coward to accept that that's exactly what you're doing?"
"Can't you just accept that there are some things you don't understand?"
"Yeah, because you won't tell me about them," Zaidra shoots back, irritation leaking into her words. "So whose fault is that? You've spent years trying to shield me from the world, but what good has that done? We were supposed to go through life together, and now you insist on doing everything on your own."
Zephyr spins around immediately. Zaidra blinks and takes a step back to avoid crashing into him. "It's not that simple," they say, pleading with her to understand everything he can't say. "I only do these things for you and Mom, to keep you safe."
"Are you really going to keep insisting that's the case?"
"Are you really going to rehash the same argument we've had a million times before?"
Zaidra snaps her eyes away, gaze fixed on the wall behind him. Her chest is rising and falling rapidly, and Zephyr wishes there was something, anything they could do to fix things.
Even though Zephyr Vitale has already given every part of himself up for their family, if they had anything left, they'd give that too.
"You're selfish."
Their whole world stops. Zephyr sucks in a ragged breath. "I'm selfish?" they croak, hands beginning to tremble. He can't have this conversation again, not now, not when–
The corners of her mouth lift cruelly. Unlike last time, she's devastatingly sober, and completely in control of what she's saying. Zephyr has to force himself to focus on something else, but all that comes to mind is a memory from a few short weeks ago.
Velour De Fiore's office is familiar to Zephyr, even though they don't want it to be. The room always manages to be unbearably hot and suffocating, though Zephyr suspects it's only that way to set him on edge and give Velour the upper hand. Even though every bone in their body screams for them to leave, to abandon his mission now, Zephyr stays firmly rooted in his seat.
"What do you want from me this time?" Velour asks, spinning a pen between his fingers lazily. "You only go out of your way to visit me when there's something you're looking to get."
"Can't I visit my own father?"
Velour's lips tighten at the reminder of the relationship he tries hard to keep under wraps. Of course, Zephyr is aware of the man's desire for secrecy, and that's why they make sure to use it against Velour in situations like these. The man is a bastard, one that Zephyr hates being related to, but desperate times call for desperate measures.
"Right, my son," Velour says, his contempt clear. "Get to the point, though I can already guess where this is going."
"We need more money," Zephyr says, trying to appear patient and humble. "Mom's going downhill again, she'll need more treatments, and then-"
A harsh laugh. "And then what, boy? You think you can milk me for all I'm worth, don't you? I gave you a job, I gave you a way to provide for your mother and sister, and it's still not enough? You're greedy, and it's about time you come up with a new way to get that money."
Zephyr grits his teeth. He's not about to take this lying down. "You threw me into the middle of the most dangerous job at this plant. It's a miracle I'm not already dead."
Velour's eyes flare. "Are you talking back to me now? After everything I've done for you? A job is a job, Zephyr, and you'd best watch your mouth if you want to keep yours."
"And I'm trying to tell you it's not enough," Zephyr explains, desperation leaking into their voice. They hate having to grovel like this, having to beg for scraps from a man that barely deems him to be his child, but Zephyr can shove down their pride for a time. For his mother and for Zaidra.
"More, more, more," Velour muses, leaning back in his chair. His sudden change in tone is enough to make Zephyr sit up straighter. "That's all you ever want. Has it ever occurred to you that I have a life and family of my own to support?"
Zephyr bites their tongue, deciding that now isn't the time to remind Velour that leaking news of his multiple illegitimate children could ruin him forever. Instead, he plasters a smile on their face. "You have yours, and I have mine. That's why our little deal works."
"Ah, but Zephyr, I'm starting to realize that you benefit far more than I do."
"I fail to see how that's the case," Zephyr says, trying desperately to maintain some sense of control. "I'm one of the workers that has lasted the longest in my section. Those saws take out a good chunk of your eligible workers, so like it or not, you need me."
Velour laughs, and the sound sends chills up Zephyr's spine. This is quickly going off the rails, but they still can't predict where the conversation will land. "I need you? That's very interesting, Zephyr."
"Interesting how?"
Instead of answering immediately, Velour gets up from his desk and begins pacing around the room. Zephyr has no choice but to track the man with their eyes, watching with bated breath.
"You must know by now that I keep tabs on you," Velour says. Zephyr in fact did know, but the rather honest admission only makes his spine stiffen more. "As well as Vivienne and Zaidra… not to mention Galenos and Kiki."
"Leave them out of this," Zephyr blurts out.
Velour grins, finally looking back to Zephyr. They shrink back slightly, knowing that they've made a grave mistake. "Oh? You want me to leave your loved ones out of this even though you dragged mine into your problems?"
"If you already know what you want from me, just say it."
"Be patient," Velour chides. "First, let me explain to you what the stakes are. Make sure to listen carefully. I'd hate for you to miss something. Understood?"
Zephyr nods slowly. It's all he can do.
"Vivienne is dying," Velour says frankly. "You need my money to keep her alive. Zaidra has turned into a party girl, blowing her own share of the money the moment she gets her hands on it. As for your friends… well, Kiki is a sweet thing, and it would be a shame if she got transferred somewhere less… suitable. And then there's Galenos – did you really think I don't know everything that goes on in my workplace?"
"I don't know what you're talking about."
"Don't lie to me," Velour snaps. "I know Galenos has been selling my company secrets. So, you see, Zephyr, we're in a bit of a predicament here. If you lash out at me, I'd have no choice but to retaliate in kind. And I'm sure that after everything you've done for your loved ones, you would hate to see them in danger. Am I right?"
"Yes," Zephyr says through gritted teeth. "So spit it out. What do you want from me?"
"Easy," Velour says, eyes bright with victory. "I want you to volunteer for the Hunger Games."
"God, are you even listening to me?" Zaidra cries. "You aren't, are you? You can't even be bothered to pay attention to me in your last minutes in this District."
Zephyr squeezes their eyes shut, trying to stay firmly rooted in the present. "I'm sorry," he says, shaking his head. "I just… I'm sorry, Zaidra."
She pauses, clearly stunned. "You're sorry?" she repeats.
"I'm sorry," he says again. "Just… god, it's too late for a lot of things, but know that I'm sorry and I love you. I hope that you'll understand all of this someday, but even if you don't, those two facts won't change. I'd do it all again."
Zaidra scrunches up her nose. "Zeph, you're not making any sense."
"I know, but I don't have much more time," Zephyr says, speaking almost frantically. "I left behind enough money for you to get by. Go to Galenos if you need anything, he's already said he'll be happy to help. And… and I know that if I die, things will be hard again, but you're strong. You'll make it through."
"Zeph," she says, trying to cut him off. Before she gets the chance to say anything more, the door opens and a peacekeeper steps in, clearly expecting her to leave.
"I will come back," Zephyr promises, clutching his fist holding the feather to their chest. "I swear to you, Zaidra. I can still fix this."
The expression on her face is unreadable as the peacekeeper's hand lands on her arm. Zaidra tries to snatch her arm back, but his grip only tightens. She looks between Zephyr and the peacekeeper unhappily, lips curling back into a sneer.
"I don't believe you," she calls over her shoulder as the peacekeeper drags her away. "You're not doing this for anyone but yourself."
When the door slams shut behind her, Zephyr sways where he stands. They stare longingly at the door, but there's no one else coming for him. Zaidra's last words ring in their ears, over and over again.
All Zephyr has ever wanted was to keep their family afloat, but as he stands alone in the goodbyes room, he wonders if they've missed something along the way. Something that would make things right, make things better.
But it's far too late for Zephyr to change anything now. The only thing they can do now is come home safe, no matter the cost.
Aleksei Court, 15
District Six Male, he/him
Aleksei can't breathe.
The sound of his own name echoing across the square still lingers in his mind, but not as strongly as the sound of his siblings' screams. Aleksei doesn't even try to hide his own devastation, the tears that endlessly trail down his face, the sheer horror that courses through his body. He's never felt so much all at once, and he's paralyzed by it, blindly following where other people tell him to go.
A million thoughts race through his head, each one more terrifying than the last. How will the others take care of themselves without my paycheck? Will there be enough money for Poe's treatments? Will anyone check in on our parents? What about my friends? Will this be what finally tears our family apart?
How am I supposed to come home?
He can't breathe. He can't breathe. He can't breathe.
"Guys!" Avana calls, voice loud and commanding above the clamor of siblings surrounding him. "Ease up a little! Give him some space."
Instantly, the pressure around him relents. Aleksei lifts his head, surveying the nine shining faces surrounding him, and sucks in a clear breath. For once, his words fail, and he looks around helplessly.
Mera, the second oldest, kneels by his side. "How are you feeling?" she asks, voice purposefully low and kind. "Is there anything we can do for you?"
Coughing, Aleksei tries to find his voice once more. "Get my name out of the reaping bowl?" he tries weakly.
A few of his siblings titter quietly, but they're quickly hushed by Avana. Mera only smiles sadly, rubbing the back of his hand with her thumb. "Oh, Aleksei," she mutters. "You know we'd do anything to help if we could."
"You don't have to worry about it," Aleksei says, eyes darting around to each of his siblings in turn. "Really, I promise, I'll be fine. It's not like this can be much harder than running drugs across Six all day."
That's obviously only partially true. Aleksei figures that he'll encounter some similar issues, but it's sort of a big jump to go from outrunning peacekeepers to outrunning kids that actively want to kill you. Especially trained ones. He's seen what they can do, in short snippets here and there. Aleksei may not have ever seen a full playthrough of the Games, but he's well aware of the horrors they contain.
"I don't know about that," Avana says, frowning. On her hip sits Owen, the youngest, who clearly has no idea what's going on, and he can see two small arms wrapped around her leg for comfort. Aleksei can tell that Avana's already thinking through the different outcomes, trying to calculate how she'll make up for his loss. He can't really blame her for that, either. As the oldest, she's shouldered the burden of parenting for years, so she's used to thinking one step ahead for the sake of everyone else. She blinks, seeming to notice that she's not exactly being supportive. "But I'm sure your talents will come in handy."
"You've got tons of skills!" Ivan chimes in, a little too quickly. When attention shifts his way, he shuffles his feet nervously. "There's a lot you'll be able to do in the Arena."
Aleksei ponders his brother's words before nodding. It takes him a couple more seconds to piece together why Ivan's acting strangely – there are only two people that could've possibly volunteered for Aleksei, and Ivan is one of them. As the oldest boy, he probably feels some sense of duty about the matter, as if he's letting Aleksei down somehow, but that could never be the case. Aleksei would never want that from him, nor would he ask that of him.
"I'm sure I can figure it out," is what he settles on in response. "Surely the Arena will have a lot of places for me to run and hide."
He hears a loud sniffle, and Aleksei instinctively searches for his youngest sister, who clings to the back of Avana's leg. He leans forward a bit, stretching his open hand towards her. Her wailing could be heard above the rest during the reaping, and Aleksei has to force back the memories. Instead, he smiles gently, trying to beckon her forward.
Her hand latches onto his in a heartbeat, and Paige begins to cry anew. At all of six years old, she probably has only the barest sense of what's happening. All she knows is that Aleksei is leaving, and he might not come back. Aleksei himself tries not to think about any worse-case scenarios, shoving bloody images into the furthest recesses of his mind.
"Don't worry about me," he says gently, bringing her in for a hug. When she latches her arms around him, he uses his newly freed hand to ruffle her hair. "I'll be back before you know it."
Paige begins to quake against him. She begins to mutter something completely unintelligible, and when Aleksei looks to Avana for help, his sister merely shrugs. In this situation, she's just as helpless as him. There's no telling how much of the Games Paige understands, and this is the worst possible time to teach her about it.
Aleksei's gone. He's leaving and he probably won't come back. Odds are, he'll die in some horrific manner that we'll all have to see play out in excruciating detail.
He shudders at the thought, and then shoves it away again. Now's not the time to worry about things like that.
(Will there ever be a time Aleksei wants to consider his mortality or the immense likelihood of his own death? Well, no, but he also figures that's probably a good thing. Anyone who goes into the Games with death weighing on their mind too much will only be dragged down by it, and Aleksei doesn't intend for that to be his fate.)
"Hey," Lyssa says, face popping into his line of vision, "you're about to one-up me, you know?"
All of Aleksei's worries are instantly wiped away, and he grins. At all of seventeen, Lyssa and her twin, Freja, work on trains, loading and unloading in different Districts. They've seen more of Panem than anyone Aleksei knows, and Lyssa in particular loves to enthrall him with stories whenever she gets the chance. He's never been able to decide what one place he wants to visit the most, but now he'll get to visit the one place they've never visited at all: the Capitol.
"I'll tell you everything about it," Aleksei says with a crooked grin. "It's gotta be nicer than anywhere else in Panem. Have you ever been on the kind of train they're taking me on?"
"Those are passenger trains," Lyssa explains. It occurs to Aleksei that he's probably heard this explanation before, but he can't quite seem to remember it. "I work on cargo trains. We run supplies all over the country, but you're going directly to the Capitol and back. It'll be the smoothest and fastest ride you've ever gone on in your life."
That seems obvious enough, considering Aleksei's never stepped foot on a train in his life, but his eyes light up anyway. "That's so cool," he breathes.
Avana taps her foot nervously, glancing at the door. Aleksei can't figure out what she's so nervous about until he realizes that three of his siblings are missing – Freja, Poe, and Oliver. He instantly forgets all about the thrilling train ride he'll soon go on, and glances back to Lyssa.
"Where's Freja?"
Lyssa's face immediately tightens, and she exchanges a look with Mera. Aleksei hates it when his older sisters do the thing where they give each other a look and then manage to communicate wordlessly. He's never been able to comprehend the look, but Aleksei isn't sure if that's because he isn't old enough or if they're just communicating telepathically or something. Whatever the case, all he can do is quietly huff and wait for them to include him.
"Freja and Oliver went to help Poe," Avana says, cutting in between the two girls. She bounces Owen on her hip, the toddler cooing contentedly. "He had issues fighting the crowd, and they were going to take him home, but… well, he wanted to come see you."
Aleksei pales at the thought of Poe trying to fight through the crowd all on his own after the reapings, his first reaping at that, and he nods. "So they'll be here soon?"
"Hopefully," is all she says in response.
Breathing out steadily, Aleksei fixes his gaze on the floor. He's well aware of his own precarious position here, but his mind keeps going back to Poe. His brother was beyond anxious for his first reaping this morning, but considering it's hard to get him out of bed on a good day, it's a miracle Poe mustered the strength to move around and get to the square at all. He desperately hopes that his brother didn't take an extra pill or two to get that boost of energy, but knowing Poe's guilt over most of the family's money going towards his treatments, the odds are low.
It's almost funny how the harder Aleksei tries to focus on something besides the Games, the more intensely they creep into the back of his mind. This time, however, he starts to consider all he could do if he won.
The door slams open, and Oliver steps inside, the younger boy breathing heavily. He points a finger down the hallway, wordlessly mouthing something. Most of the siblings stay frozen in place, but Avana gets up instantly, as if she already knows what he's trying to say. And maybe she does, because she disappears out the door and comes back a few moments later with Poe in her arms. Ever so carefully, Avana puts Poe down on the couch, where he quietly trembles for a moment. He looks smaller than normal, as if he's trying to curl in on himself. Freja follows behind, clearly worn out, and takes her place next to Lyssa.
As the siblings take a moment to breathe, Oliver barrels into Aleksei's side, nearly bowling him over. Aleksei wraps an arm around him, noting that the boy is unusually quiet. Then again, so is Aleksei. It's strange to consider that, for the first time in quite a while, all the siblings are in the same place, and only because they might lose one of their own forever.
More than that – no one thought Aleksei would be the one to go first.
"Hey there," Aleksei says, shuffling closer to Poe. "How are you feeling?"
"Bad," is Poe's immediate response. "Really… really bad."
"You still have your meds though, right?"
"Right," Poe repeats. "At… at home."
"You'll be due for some more by then," Aleksei says. "And then you can feel better, yeah?"
"I'm sorry," Poe says instead, voice barely audible. "I'm just so… tired."
"Don't worry about it," Aleksei says, smoothing the boy's hair out of his face. "You can rest for a good long while as soon as this is over."
"But this being over means… means you'll be gone," Poe says, eyes wide and pleading. He's breathing hard, trying with every ounce of effort to force out the words. "And I don't want that either."
Aleksei's mouth goes dry. Gone feels like such a scary word, one he's not quite ready to accept. Then again, he's not sure he ever will be. But in the face of such an imposing danger, Aleksei manages to grin. "I'll be back," he says calmly. "I'll win and come back with all the money in the world, and then none of us will have to worry about anything again."
"Aleksei," Mera says softly, squeezing his hand. "Don't feel like you have to promise something like that."
"No, I can do it!" Aleksei insists. "I'll find allies and get sponsors and outlast everyone I need to. Whatever it takes."
"Don't say that," Avana snaps, far more serious now. "Don't ever say that, Aleksei. You'll open yourself up to things far beyond what you can imagine."
Aleksei's jaw clenches. He's not quite sure what that means, but Avana's tone is enough to sober him. "I'll still do my best," he amends.
She nods, shoulders relaxing. "I'm sure you will," she says. "That's all we could ever ask of you. Nothing more, and nothing less. Understand?"
Her sentiment is starting to go over Aleksei's head, but he nods regardless. His head is already buzzing with new half-baked plans, each one revolving around what they might be able to do once he comes back.
If Aleksei wins, he'll be able to provide for everyone. There would be no more sleepless nights stuck under a train track or fighting to get just one more pill or struggling to scrape together enough money to buy food. If Aleksei wins, he won't just be winning for himself. He'll be winning for his whole family, for their chance at a real future.
(And if he loses, he'll be losing for them too.)
So it doesn't fully matter what kind of competition Aleksei finds himself facing in the not-so-distant future. He'll find a way to the other side, where he knows he can make things better for everyone around him.
It's the only thing he can do.
Kodo Hotakim, 17
District Nine Male, he/him
"This can't be happening!"
This is at least the third time that Kosa has repeated that sentiment – not that Kodo has been counting – and each time her tone has gotten increasingly desperate. It's almost as if she's trying to figure a way out of this, as if it's her life on the line and not Kodo's. It's sort of typical for her to try and hog the attention, but Kodo finds that he doesn't quite mind right now. Not as his head still spins, clouded and foggy despite how hard he's trying to stay present.
"I just don't understand what went wrong," Aana cries, dabbing at her face delicately. Her ever-present smile is one that Kodo finds himself very much missing. He supposes now is the time he'd find comfort in it.
"That Bonnie girl volunteered for me," Kosa says, huffing and tapping her foot. At this point, there's no use in trying to maintain their secrets. If Kosa cared about that sort of thing, she'd be trying harder. No amount of emotional stress could ever get the Kosa Hotakim's facade to crack. "I just don't see where things went wrong!"
"Bourbon," Aana says slowly. She appears to mull over the name for a moment before shaking her head. "That girl appears to be something else. I'm sure she's good at something, but I'm not sure how I feel about her being your District Partner."
Kosa sniffs. "She's filthy."
"Might be worth something."
"I'm not so sure. Maybe not worth enough."
A hum. "I suppose it's too early to tell."
Their conversation fades in and out of Kodo's ears. It's completely meaningless chatter. He wishes he could say that it helps, that it keeps his mind off of what's coming, but all it does is make him feel dangerously isolated. Like he's alone, all alone, and…
"God, I just don't know what to do!" Kosa cries, voice cracking. She collapses into sobs again, and Aana follows soon after. They're ever so slowly breaking, and they're on the verge of dragging Kodo down with them. He has to do something, say something, say anything, but Kodo Hotakim has never felt so helpless in his life.
(Kodo's used to wearing a mask. It's familiar, comfortable. He finds that in his weakest moments, it's particularly easy to hide behind, so that's what he does now.)
(Breathe in. Breathe out. He begins to act.)
The boy grins, and he finally finds the strength to stand. The tremors in his hands are gone, and he's sure of himself. This is the stature of a boy who thrives in the spotlight, one who never shies away from a challenge, one who loves to be seen. He's everything and nothing all at once, a blank slate ready to be molded into whatever shape the situation calls for.
And now, as he surveys his sister and step-mother, he knows that the right role is one based in confidence, in all the surety that Kodo Hotakim does not currently possess. But the boy will make do with what he has to turn the situation into one that he feels safer in.
"Don't worry." The words leave his lips easily. He thinks it's a lie, but he just needs to soothe Kosa and Aana long enough. "It'll all be okay, I'll make sure of it."
Vague. His words are too vague, but he can't summon anything better. This mask is weak, and he waits for Kosa in particular to call him out, to spot his flaws like every other time, but she merely throws herself into his arms. Aana hovers a few steps behind, looking on longingly. The boy reaches an arm out to her as well, and she gladly steps in.
For a few brief moments, he's safe. There's nothing waiting for him on the other side of the door. He has Kosa and Aana by his side, and that's all he needs right now.
(That's not true. Kodo needs Dagan too, but Dagan has already come and gone. It makes Kodo wonder if he'll ever see the boy again.)
(He doesn't know if he's ready to know the answer.)
"You can come back, right?" Kosa asks desperately, clinging to his shirt. "Say you'll come back."
His heart beats rapidly in his chest, to the point where he wonders if they can hear how much he's lying through his teeth. After a beat too long, the boy smiles and says, "I'll come back. I promise."
He can't tell if he wants them to call him out for lying or not. Maybe it would be a relief. Maybe it would be that much more of a burden. Maybe it'll stop the ache in his chest, help him feel real and grounded and alive.
Instead, the door opens.
An unfamiliar peacekeeper steps in. The boy's jaw clenches. He knows that this is the signal for Kosa and Aana to leave, and while he wants them to stay, he knows there's something else that needs to come first.
"Wait," he says, disentangling himself. "Can you send in Father?"
Kosa is the one that nods at him, wiping away her tears. Now that the door is open and the rest of the world is allowed inside this room, her own facade is back up. Kosa Hotakim is unbothered by the circumstances surrounding her. She merely extends a hand for Aana to grab, leading the older woman out of the room.
The peacekeeper in the doorway stares at him, unmoving. The boy stares back at his own reflection in the shining helmet. He's small. His eyes are wide and frightened. His hands are clenched into fists at his sides. Every inch of his body is on the verge of snapping, and he's barely holding himself together.
One more, he tells himself. Just one more.
(One more what? One more performance from Kodo Hotakim? The world's seen enough of those by now, surely. But the more Kodo is alone with his thoughts, the more he's sure that a performance is all he has to offer.)
(A performance has never sounded so lonely before.)
Teff Hotakim steps into the room, and the sight of his father instantly sobers Kodo. Teff's's face is twisted into a frown, one etched so deeply into his face that the boy almost wonders if his prediction is wrong, if he's making it all up.
Almost.
The door shuts.
"So," Teff says, voice cool and detached even though they're the only ones in the room. "You wanted to see me?"
A laugh bubbles out of him. "Is it wrong for me to want to see my own father before I go off to die?"
Teff's frown deepens, a feat the boy didn't think was possible. "That's not what I meant and you know it."
"Do I?" he says, taking a step closer. "I thought I knew a lot of things. I do know a lot of things. Should I lay them out for you now?"
"I'm sure that's not necessary."
"I'm not really asking."
Teff stares at him, as if he's finally seeing his own son for the first time. He opens his mouth. The boy doesn't give him the chance to continue.
"You sicken me," he says, spitting the words out. It instantly relieves some of the pressure on his chest in a way that makes his head spin. "I've seen the way you act. Between home and work and everything else, all I've gathered is that my own father is a weak, pathetic man with nothing to his name beyond the power that goes to his head."
"Excuse me?" Teff says, expression turning angry. "What do you think you're-"
"I'm not done yet," he snaps. "I know you've been cheating on Aana with my birth mother. And you know that I know, but you've been too much of a coward to say anything to my face about it. You're still with her too, aren't you? Aana's been nothing but kind and loyal to you, and what? You throw her aside the instant she's not good enough? No – you don't even have the decency to do that. You've continued to lie to her, continued to string her along. It makes me sick."
"You don't know what you're talking about," Teff hisses, stepping closer. "Watch your mouth, boy, or else-"
"Or else what?" He's bold now, too bold, but he can't stop. The words continue to spill out, the ones he's thought in the back of his mind for years now. He couldn't stop even if he wanted to. "You'll send me into the Games? Guess what! You already essentially did that. You prattled on and on about how you paid someone to volunteer for Kosa-"
"Kodo."
"-but there was never anyone set aside for me, was there? You're only looking out for yourself, for your own interests, and I didn't fit into the equation. So you only set up a failsafe for one of us. That's why you can't even be bothered to look upset that your own child is going into the Games, or why you weren't surprised when someone volunteered for Kosa, or why you barely look affected by anything that's happened today. Do you want to know why that is? Why you can't muster up even the barest hint of emotion?"
"That's enough," his father says, but he's beginning to weaken. His eyes dart around the room, searching for an escape that the boy won't give him. It's so satisfying to see his own father squirm under the weight of his own actions.
(It's so undoing as well. To know that everything Kodo says is the truth, to see his father react and know that he's right, that he's always been right. The only person Kodo's never been able to lie to is himself, and with every filthy truth that spills out of his mouth, the knot in his stomach curls ever tighter.)
"Because you're a disgusting man," he spits out, eyes flaring. "You're pathetic, and I will never forgive you for anything. I hope you remember that as you watch me go into the Games and face my own death. It'll all be your fault, after all."
As if on cue, the door opens and in steps the peacekeeper from earlier. He pauses, looking between father and son as if he realizes he's interrupting something. But he never says anything. Instead, he simply jerks his head towards the opening, beckoning for Teff to follow.
The boy watches his father, chin lifted high. He's visibly trembling, but neither of them comment on it. He can't figure out if he wants his father to say anything or not.
Teff does nothing more than walk out the door.
The peacekeeper gives him a slight shrug, as if to say that there's no one else waiting for him outside. The boy's chest tightens. Without saying anything more, the peacekeeper heads out, closing the door behind him.
Finally, he's alone.
All alone.
And only when Kodo Hotakim is alone does he finally break.
He collapses to the floor, eyes stinging bitterly with tears he's been holding back for the past hour, maybe longer. His chest burns, aching so deeply that Kodo wonders if this is a premonition of his own death that's soon to come. Because surely, surely he doesn't even stand a chance.
He's going to die. There's no way for him to outrun this fact. Kodo Hotakim is going to die, just like twenty-three children do every year. He's not the smartest, or the most talented, and he's never so much as held a weapon before. The only thing he can do is act, and even that's beginning to fail him.
What good is an actor that can't even convince himself he'll be okay?
Tears course down his face, the flow neverending as Kodo finally lets himself feel everything. His choked sobs are muffled by a hand over his mouth, still trying to stifle the noise even though he's alone – all alone – and there's no one to hear him. Even when there's no one left for him to keep up a facade for, Kodo doesn't know how to just be anymore.
The greatest show of his life, and Kodo can't even last an hour. God, how much more pathetic can he get?
But Kodo refuses to give up so soon. Even though his sheer terror has completely overpowered him, he knows that there has to be a way, any way for him to fight through this on his own terms.
He just has to find it.
aaand with that we kick into pregames for real! when i said updates would get more spread out i v much meant it. goal is still to never go to jail buuut don't be surprised if i push it every month. always count on me to procrastinate.
but onto business! i hope y'all liked this chappie, everyone clearly had a really epic time. next up is train rides 1 though, which means we get into the tribute interactions! also i get to have fun playing around w my mentors more bc i like catering to myself. tl;dr i'm real fucking excited and i hope y'all are too! i'd like to say i'll see u in closer to two weeks but i'm not holding my breath so i hope you aren't either.
also yes this chapter was 10k pls continue to be disappointed in me i will keep pulling this bullshit
~de laney is out