Prologue
Peeta POV
I stand with the other seventeen year old boys in the square listening to the same speech that hasn't changed for as long as I can remember.
Everyone is always nervous on reaping day. My family wasn't though, since both Rye and Graham have already aged out and it was just me left. It took some of the pressure off, and Mom hardly seemed to care this morning. I know they're all here though, watching, in the section behind all the kids. It's mandatory for everyone in the district. We're small enough that we can all fit in the square.
The escort for our district, a lady maybe slightly younger than my parents with a painted face and bright blue hair, stands from her seat next to Haymitch Abernathy, the sole surviving Victor in our district. The other districts have more, but we don't. Every year, the kids who get sent to the arena are a lost cause.
She thanks the mayor for his moving speech, almost wacking him in the face with her sleeves that stick out like wings and I stifle a laugh. She then takes the spot in front of the microphone and introduces herself as Effie Trinket. She goes on and on about how it's an honor to be chosen for the games and gestures to the two large glass bowls that have each of our names inside, one for the boys and one for the girls.
"First the girls," she announces, and it feels like everyone is holding their breath. "Levy Cardwer."
I hear a scream from where the parents are waiting and I can hear the murmuring towards the front as the thirteen year olds shuffle to let the girl through. I don't know her, but it's obvious she's from the Seam. She looks absolutely terrified as she makes her way towards the stage, dragging her feet and looking back, hoping someone will volunteer for her. Nobody ever does in District twelve. Effie officially asks for volunteers and the silence continues.
"Wonderful!" Effie claps her hands like she hasn't just handed that girl a death certificate. "Now the boys."
I cross my fingers behind my back, almost feeling silly for doing so. But I can feel everyone around me tense. It's all of our last years so if we can just get through this one-
"Peeta Mellark."
It takes a couple of long seconds to even register that she's called my name, and it's only when the crowd starts to part around me that I realize I have to move. I feel every pair of eyes watching me as I walk as confidently as I can up to the stage. I know they start evaluating us as soon as we're reaped and while I didn't think my chances were great, I wasn't going to do anything to hurt them.
"Any volunteers for Peeta Mellark?" Effie asks. I glance over at the crowd and spot my brothers standing together next to my parents. They have slight frowns on their faces, but what's more apparent is the resignation on their faces. They don't expect me to come back. I doubt they would have volunteered for me anyway if they were still reaping age.
"Well then, congratulations to our tributes from District twelve," Effie says. "Shake hands," she encourages, gently pushing the two of us together. I shake Levy small, bony hand, and she cries harder.
"It's okay, Levy," I try to comfort, squeezing her shoulders.
It doesn't work and instead she throws her arms around me, sobbing for her mother. I try to wish her the best without making both of us seem too weak, knowing all of Panem would be watching. Effie doesn't seem to know what to do, and looks to the peacekeepers on the stage who escort us into the Justice building.
Levy is pulled off of me and we're escorted to separate rooms, the door firmly locked behind us. As if we would be stupid enough to run. I wait maybe five minutes when the door opens and my parents and brothers enter. Dad is the first to give me a hug, followed by Rye and Graham. Mom hangs back, but eventually approaches and gives me an awkward pat to the shoulder.
"You're strong," Dad reminds me, but he doesn't tell me to win. I kind of appreciate that. He grips the small bag in his hand tighter, shoving it towards me. "For the train." He hugs me again, shaking slightly. "I love you, son."
"Love you too, Dad," I choke out, trying not to be hurt by the tone of finality in his voice. "I love all of you," I glance at the rest of my family.
Dad kisses my head, and my brothers wave goodbye as they all shuffle out of the room. There's weirdly a sense of peace, like I'm no longer the burden my mother always told me I was. I'm still staring at the bag in my hand though when the door opens again.
"Gale?" My best friend enters with a somber expression on his face. It was his last year too.
"Hey, man," he tries to smile but it looks forced on his face.
Gale and I didn't become friends overnight. In fact, I don't think most people know we're friends, since we live on opposite sides of town and the merchant and seam folk tend to stick to their own. But Gale would come to trade at the bakery every week since he was twelve as what started as a mutual understanding slowly turned into a friendship. He understood why I felt so much like an outcast in my own family, because he felt alone too. And once he saw that my life wasn't all great like he thought it was for us merchant families, he would show me around the woods beyond the fence so I wouldn't have to be home as often. Although I haven't gotten to see him as much ever since he's started to follow Madge Undersee around like a lost puppy dog.
"I guess I lost, huh?" I try to joke. When we were twelve and still somewhat closer to enemies, we turned the reaping into a weird competition. Last man standing won a favor from the other. At the time, we didn't quite understanding the magnitude of the situation or that whoever did get reaped wouldn't be coming home.
"Yeah, you did," his face gets serious. "I know what I want as my favor. Win."
"Gale, I can't-"
"Come on, man. You gotta win. I can't stand anyone else in this district!" He throws his hands up, angry, but it only makes me laugh. We were different in that way. He was hot headed and I was much more reserved.
"Except Madge," I point out.
"Yeah," he says, looking a big embarrassed by his outburst."By the way, she wanted me to give you this." He digs something out of his pocket and hands it to me. It's a gold pin with a bird on it. "It's a mockingjay. It was her Aunts or something. I think she was reaped in the quarter quell."
"Thanks. Tell her thank you."
He just nods. There's a banging outside. A warning that our time is almost up.
"Win. That's my favor," he points to me. "No take backs."
"Gale…" I hesitate not sure what I want to say before I never see my best friend again.
"No," he says. Firm. Angry. "Tell me when you get back. And maybe once you're a Victor we can finally find a girl who will want you," he smirks.
I roll my eyes, because even now, I can count on Gale to be, well, Gale.
The door opens and the same peacekeeper from before enters. "Times up."
Gale slowly walks backwards towards the door. "I'm not saying goodbye because you owe me that favor," he glares, not leaving me any time to protest before he turns and marches right out that door.
"Goodbye," I still say, after he's gone and the peacekeeper grabs a hold of my elbow to walk me to the train.
Effie tells us about how we're expected to act once we're at the Capitol once we're seated at a dining table covered in more food than I think I've ever seen in my entire life. Levy immediately starts to gorge herself, acting like she hasn't eaten in days, and to be honest, there's a good chance she might not have. Haymitch looks barely conscious, bottle in hand.
"So what what do we need to know?" I ask him, sticking another spoonful of stew into my mouth. I've never tasted anything like it. I thought the best stew I'd ever have in my life was whatever Greasy Sae made in the Hob that Gale took me to once, but this stew makes that taste like dirt.
Haymitch waves me off, taking another swig of my bottle. For some reason that makes me a bit angry.
"You're our mentor," I point out. "So mentor us." I reach for the bottle and snatch it out of his hand, which ends up being the wrong move because Haymitch swing his arm, punching me in the face. Out of pure instinct, I swing back and he falls into his seat, chuckling to himself. Effie gasps, and Levy freezes, her hand gripping the half eaten croissant mid air.
"Looks like we might have a fighter on our hands this year," Haymitch says, sounding slightly impressed. I hate the way he's analyzing me, and I hate the way he was able to draw out a temper I wasn't aware I possessed so easily. But maybe that's what being sent to your death does to you.
Someone offers me ice for my bruising skin, but I refuse and I hide out in the back of the train for the rest of the evening, skipping dinner altogether watching the scenery change as we pass through the different districts. I've never seen some of these trees and terrain before and I'm tempted to draw them. I'm able to scrounge for a notepad and pencil and that's what I pretty much spend the rest of the train ride doing apart from meals and hounding Haymitch about helping us. He gives us tidbits here and there, about finding water, avoiding large clearing, things that feel like common sense, but maybe that's all he can offer us until we're in the arena itself.
When we finally pull into the Capitol, I'm determined to at least try. Haymitch said that sponsors could mean the difference between life or death so as we pull into the train station, I wave, smiling like I would to our customers at the bakery back home. The crowd eats it up and they cheer, waving back, chanting our names. All I can think as we pass them is how different they look to the people back home. Every one of them looks like Effie, only, more extravagant if that's even possible.
We don't get a chance to actually interact with them though and as soon as the train stops, we're ushered past the crowds scrambling to get a glimpse of the tributes and straight into another building where I'm separated from Levy and thrown into a room alone. It's whirlwind of being pushed and pulled and prodded and waxed, as three people who introduce themselves as my prep team enter the room and get right to work on me. I barely have time to catch their names but I take the time to study them. They look almost not human, with the amount of modifications they've had done to them. One of them has a purplish tint to their skin, while another has cheekbones that stick out and look sharp to touch. By the time they're done, I feel like one of the turkeys that Gale brought to the bakery once, completely plucked, minus some, er, special areas.
"Cinna should be here soon!" The one with purple skin, I think Flavius, says with a smile.
"Cinna?" I'm about to ask who that is when the door opens and a man who looks around my parents age enters. He doesn't look very much like the others in this room though. He looks…normal. In fact, if it wasn't for the gold eyeliner, he looks like he could even be from my district. I recognize him as a stylist, but he's been around for a few years so it doesn't make sense why they would give him district twelve. Nobody's really fighting over us.
He circles me and I feel uncomfortable at my lack of clothes but I don't dare move. He comes to a stop in front of me and gives a small smile.
"How despicable we must seem to you."
His words take me aback. I didn't expect this man to put into words what I was feeling about these people.
Even though I don't fully trust him, he's still the most trustworthy person here. And so I have to take his word for it when I ask him if we're going to be lumps of coal like every year and he shakes his head.
"You are going to be the flames that rise when coal is given the chance to burn."
…
"I should be able to snag you some sponsors so you gotta pull your weight, boy," Haymitch tells me as he guides me towards the launching tubes.
I was doing everything I could to better my chances, although with the careers having so much support already and being from Twelve where I had to share my mentor with Levy unlike every other district who had one per tribute, I was at a disadvantage.
Cinna's outfit has made quite a splash during the tribute parade and Haymitch had me play the charming bachelor card during interviews. I'm sure Gale is laughing at me back home as I tell them all the things I love about the Capitol. When Caesar asked about my love life, I boasted that I was single which made them more excited. It seemed to be the right move and he compared me to Finnick ODair, a former Victor. I wasn't nearly as good looking, according to Haymitch, but he said I'd be able to talk my way into it. I didn't like what he was hinting at. I was willing to play it up, it was still me, like when I joke around with my brothers or Gale, but I wasn't going to pretend to be someone I wasn't. Luckily that was enough for now.
I managed to score just high enough during the showcase to entice sponsors, but not enough to threaten the careers and put a target on my back, so my mentor assured me he would be able to pull something. I was more worried about Levy, who only scored a five, even lower than the small, twelve year old girl from eleven.
This was it. That was all I could do to try to better my chances from the outside. Now, my only lifeline in the arena was my mentor, who was definitely not fully sober. I hope it's enough to keep from completely embarrassing my family.
"Stay alive." That's all the advice I'm given from Haymitch before I'm injected with something from one of the Peacekeepers and shoved into the launch tube. I try to slow my breathing, touching the pin from Gale and Madge for any sort of comfort. It starts to rise, and the latch opens. I look to my right, to my left, at all the other tributes in the arena. It doesn't feel like the arena though, it feels like we're outside, in a large clearing surrounded by the forest. I catch little Levy's eyes and she looks back and forth between the Cornucopia and the forest, trying to make a decision. I shake my head, silently telling her to run in the opposite direction like Haymitch told her too. I hope she does.
The countdown begins and I almost can't hear the announcer over my own heartbeat. But too soon, the buzzer goes off and everyone starts moving.
The games have begun.