In the Wake of the Tide: A Hunger Games Fanfiction

Chapter 2

"You're what?!" Andario pulled back in shock. Had he heard her right? She was volunteering as the female tribute this year? He stuttered while trying to find the right words to convey how he felt. But how did he feel? How could he communicate it if he didn't know himself?
"I'm volunteering as the career tribute this year!" Gabria repeated, giddy with anticipation. She expected something of him, but he couldn't tell what. "I know it's a bit early, but—"
"A bit early?! You still have two years of training left, Gabria!" He was fuming, but he didn't understand what for. Was it that he cared for her? Or was he frustrated with an incompetent person's idiotic decision? Either way, he was pretty sure people could see the vast amount of steam billowing from his head if they weren't already preoccupied with their own conversations.
Gabria crossed her arms and furrowed her brows, as though perplexed by his reaction. "Why are you so upset? You should be proud of me!"
"Because this is stupid, Gabria!" Andario spoke in a sharp, harsh whisper so that nobody could hear what he was saying. "You're sixteen! You have years of training ahead of you! What makes you think you can skip out on that and take it all on now?!"
"I'm ready, Dario!" She retorted. "I'm more than ready! Even Osman said so!"
At that moment, a glass clinked from the loft area just above their heads. Anguilla began to speak his annual Reaping speech, most likely looking down on his fellow Commune as he usually did. "My, what a year it has been!" He stated, segueing into the regular monologue. Andario only had half a brain to listen, so he missed most of it while he continued to berate Gabria, leaning in closer to her so he could not be heard over the Tidespeaker.
"Osman is an idiot out for himself, Gabria! He doesn't care if you survive, he just cares that you can make him look good!"
"No he doesn't!"
"Yes, he does!"
Gabria started to look upset and got defensive just as Anguilla mentioned last year's tributes. He spoke of their honour, but also of their "fortune" to have followed the Tide Merlotta had set out for them.
"I can win the Games, Andario!"
"Do you even realize that you'll be going up against the career tributes of Districts 1 and 2 as well?! They'll have more training, the Capitol will love them more, and they will definitely be forging a team. What makes you think they'll let you in on that? What makes you trust they won't stab you in the back?"
Gabria huffed, getting more frustrated by the second. "I am better than them! I can beat them! You're supposed to be congratulating me, not discouraging me!"
"How can I encourage this, Gabria?! You just admitted to signing up for death!"
As Anguilla discussed the blessing that is the Hunger Games, Andario realized he had struck a nerve. Gabria's face went deadpan. Cold and rigid like stone. When she got to the breaking point, Gabria was a ruthless force to be reckoned with, holding suppressed emotions and an unwavering ambition to achieve whatever it is she had in mind.
"I will not be a disappointment," she stated dryly. "I will not end up like you."
Andario went numb. It's as though a dagger was driven into his heart. He fell back a bit, stunned by the words and how easily she said them. It felt like there was something lodged in his throat, preventing him from speaking. He thought it fortunate, though, as if he was able to, he would have entered an unspeakable fury, continuously shouting at her through sobs. He would have looked weak. Everyone would see him as the disappointment they so desperately forced him to be. So, instead, he turned away and marched through the crowd as Gabria continued to state over and over again that she would volunteer in spite of his words. He marched through the onlookers as they watched Anguilla speak of the Tide itself, the Commune's version of fate. And Andario continued to march out the front doors of the Lily as Anguilla finished his speech and called As the Tide commands it! followed shortly by a cacophony of the same phrase from the audience.
    Andario shortly found himself sitting at the edge of the Tilda's Port with a weak recollection of how he got there. He was guided by his anger and rage, and so he assumed his feet brought him to the one place he could express it so late into the evening. He swung his legs aggressively over the water, allowing his heels to slam against the side of the port, which slightly distracted him from his all-consuming thoughts. Gabria was brainwashed, that much was for certain. He questioned, though, if his life would be easier had he also been more like her.
    He heard footsteps marching down the port, but didn't bother to turn around and check who it was. They wouldn't bother him here and now, especially in his enraged state. Yet he was wrong, as an arm reached out and clung to his shoulder while the two people sat to join him. Seb held him close in an attempt to comfort, while Captain Leucostern sat beside him and observed.
    "We saw you walk out," the Captain said. "You looked pretty upset."
    "Stormed out would be a better term," Seb muttered, the drunken stupor evidently still clinging to the edge of his mind. This prompted a scolding look from Captain Leucostern, to which he shrugged.
    Andario continued to sit in silence. He didn't quite feel up to responding to them, so he kept staring at the water below, still kicking his feet aggressively. The three of them remained in this standstill for quite awhile until Captain Leucostern blocked his heel with her foot. He looked up at her, and realized this is the first time he's ever seen a soft, concerned look on her face. A few tears began rolling down his face, and he was quick to try and dab them up on his blazer sleeve, but Seb blocked his arm. "Let them fall," he stated. The words resonated within Andario, and he allowed the tears to pass, tumbling inconsistently onto his pant leg.
    "She's volunteering." There was a long pause after the statement as the two adults tried to process the words. "She has two years left to train but she's volunteering now."
    "Gabria?" Asked Seb.
    Andario could only nod. Gabria had been his only friend growing up, despite her irritable attitude. They had been forced together from a young age in the Commune, and he found her bearable at times, so he kept her around. She was the only true friend he had ever made, being so heavily reliant on his brother until Albarus's untimely death. The only nice thing she'd ever done for him, though, was check up on him once after the funeral. He'd remained in his room for the most part, staring out the window, curled up on his bed, eyes unfocused as his mind had been elsewhere. She lightly knocked on the door before slowly pushing it open, holding a fresh cup of fish stew and a Merlin's Loaf like they used to share at the Commune banquets. It was the only meal he'd eaten in the months after his brother died, sharing it just like they always had.
He questioned why these tears were for her. She had always used him as a scapegoat, always standing on his shoulders to be better seen. She made a point to flaunt all her achievements in his face all the time. With her gone, it would be so much easier for him to live, to find a new friend and exist without the competition, without the jealousy. So why shed tears over her? He chalked it down to frustration over having to see her become a potential District 4 celebrity, with the fame and admiration, but that didn't feel like the full reason.
"Do you think she could win, Andario?" The Captain asked softly.
"I don't know," he answered. "I doubt it."
"And you've explained this?" Captain Leucostern seemed to be processing her own suspicions on Gabria's odds as she spoke.
"Yes, I did."
"Then there's nothing to do but hope." Her words were abrupt, matter-of-fact, yet Andario begrudgingly knew she was right. The only thing he could do now was cheer Gabria on and hope she survived.
They sat in another length of silence, listening to the light waves lap up against the port. Andario stared into the moon reflecting off the serene surface of the water. The image distorted along with the waves, performing a strange yet beautiful form of dance along the horizon. He wished for a life without the Capitol, the Commune, the Hunger Games. He wished for a life where him and both his siblings could have lived peacefully, where Gabria didn't need to risk her life for her ambitions. He wished for a peaceful existence where he too could dance along the horizon in his small, relaxing, imaginary world.
"Tilda's Port," Seb piped up suddenly, drawing Andario's attention. "As the story goes, it was named after Tilda, a young woman who lived here in District 4 back during the rebellion."
Andario had heard many accounts of the story of Tilda's Port, but the majority recounted times before the Capitol, back when the port was shutting down in a place known as California. The stories he heard were all rumours from Peacekeepers, but he'd never heard the story told from someone who'd lived here in District 4 their whole life.
"Tilda was well known around the District," Seb continued. "Loved by all. She was called The Pearl of Four, desired for both her stunning looks and her beautiful personality. She cared for her community, her neighbours, her friends and family. Anyone she could help, she would be there. Many men chased after her, seeking her attention, her affection, and her love.
"But there was only one person she ever held in her eye. She cherished her childhood best friend, holding out her hand to support even when she was knocked down and suffering. They were known to be inseparable, spending every waking moment together. They shared smiles, tears, laughs, pain, victories, absolutely everything they could. They cared for one another, truly and deeply.
    "During the rebellion, Tilda's lover became a soldier, helping spread the cause and liberate the Districts who could not liberate themselves. The rebel ships would sail from this here port each time, and this is where Tilda would wait for her lover, strong and resilient even against the elements. She would stand at the end of the port, staring out into the horizon each evening, awaiting the ship that brought her beloved home. And each time they returned, she would jump into her lover's arms. She was the happiest anyone in District 4 had ever seen her.
    "One day, though, her lover had sailed out with the rest of the rebels on their way to the final battle. They didn't know the Capitol had prepared an ambush on the rebels approaching from the mountains. The entire army of rebels were mowed down by the Capitol fleet, Tilda's lover gone with them.
    "Tilda remained at the port, watching and waiting. As the days flew by, the members of District 4 were concerned for her, yet she never lost hope. She continued watching, continued waiting, praying to the Tides that her lover would return to her. Sometimes, a neighbour would find her out on the port all night, searching for the ship that never docked. She eventually died on the port, leaning against one of the posts, still staring out at the horizon, searching for her lover even after death. They named the port after her, in the hope that she could eventually reunite with her lover in the afterlife."
    An eerie silence followed the end of the story, with the three of them staring out onto the ocean just like Tilda had done years before. Andario wondered why she wasted away her life for someone who would never return to her. It seemed illogical, wasting away your life just for the sake of worrying about someone else. He thought Tilda's scenario was simultaneously tragic and stupid. Putting life on hold for love ruined the potential for other forms of love.
    "Don't do what Tilda did for Gabria, Andario," Seb stated solemnly. "She wouldn't want that, and neither would you."
    "I don't love Gabria," Andario retorted, but he knew Seb was right. Even if his love for Gabria was simply friendly, he couldn't constantly worry for her. She made her choice, and he had to live with it. He would support her however he could, but he had to live his life. He had to continue knowing he could lose her at any moment.
    "We'll be here for you," Captain Leucostern said, patting him on the shoulder. It had been the only thing she'd done to show an appreciation for him since she'd hired him. He smiled at them both, appreciating their support and comforting words. They continued to sit in silence, this time relaxing and enjoying each others' company. The only noise that remained was the soft lapping of waves hitting against the port, the cool night air refreshing Andario after his sudden outburst. After about half an hour of this, the three of them made their way back, the Captain and Seb seeing Andario to his door. He waved at them and smiled, thanking them for their time, as they continued walking down the cobbled path, side by side.
    It seemed like the rest of his family had returned, but he assumed all of them went to sleep, as there was nobody around to question where he had gone. He took the opportunity to silently creep up the stairs and into his bedroom. As soon as he walked in, he stripped off his clothes and fell onto his mattress. Andario was exhausted, and he easily let the soft and warm layers of sheets envelop him. The comforting lull that preceded restful sleep washed over him, and he began to feel his eyelids droop. As his body slowly shut down for the night, he thought back to Gabria and the day ahead of him. He would be brave and strong, he dozily decided. Brave and strong like Gabria needed. Brave and strong like he needed. Brave and strong in the face of the world.
It felt like no time had passed before the sun shone bright on his face that morning. He groaned and squinted, throwing the bedsheets up over his head, but it was no use as the sun continued to seep in through the fabric. Andario decided he wouldn't be able to get back to sleep, so he hopped out of bed, changing into a pair of jeans and a plain old button-up shirt. He had nowhere to be, as the Reaping would be in the evening, and he had no work to attend today, given it was designated as an official Panem-wide holiday, as grim as that sounded.
When he got downstairs, Atlanta was just putting on her shoes to head out for the day. She called him over to join her, as she also wasn't allowed to continue career training on such a momentous day. Andario decided to tag along, as he had nothing better to do and it would keep his mind off Gabria. Atlanta had been planning to drop by the harbour for a few hours and relax before getting the traditional Merlin's Loaf they always shared before the Reaping.
As they strolled through the neighbourhood, Andario couldn't help but notice everyone was packed away into their houses. He knew this was regular on the day of the Reaping, but every year the unusually dead nature of District 4 sent a shiver through his spine. Despite people only attempting to rest or spend the day off with family and friends, he found the lack of commotion and liveliness disproportionately unsettling. He silently wished for the hustle and bustle of regular days back, as it would be more of a distraction from his own mind than the ominous air he felt had settled.
Atlanta guided him along back to Tilda's Port, as though he had never been there. She knew full well that he worked at this very port, but she continued to take the lead and Andario was happy to follow. She would come here any time she had a day off of training, or even when she was set to train alone some days. She always told him she missed the freedom to see the ocean whenever she wanted, like a longing for a far off home even only a few metres away.
They settled along a small outcropping she had found on one of her trips here, a remote location where she couldn't injure any passing people. They began to catch up as they usually did on their mutual days off. Atlanta was being trained by a woman named Mags Flanagan, the winner of the 11th Hunger Games, and so she had many stories to tell in relation to her and the older woman's days. Supposedly, Mags had caught little Finnick Odair peeking in on their lesson, so she had him try out a few rope knots, to which Finnick accidentally tied around his own fingers.
Andario had always admired Mags Flanagan. She was kind and caring, frequently reminding him of a communal grandmother of sorts. She was well-known in the District, being the first District 4 victor, but also was well-liked due to her soft and sweet demeanour. He especially appreciated her after she stepped up and volunteered to train Atlanta in opposition of Osman Foley. She had saved Atlanta from years of painful days, and Andario was certain she was the only reason Atlanta was able to remain her beautiful cheery self. Of course, Osman was not too happy about it, but Mags didn't seem to care.
Atlanta continued to catch him up on her life, with Andario listening attentively, drawn in by how infrequently he got to hear about her. She was growing so much as a person right under his nose, and he could never tell how quickly until these days off. When she concluded her recounting of the last few months, she passed the speaker's privilege onto him, and he guided her through his past few months. He skipped over the dreams of Albarus and the distressing news of Gabria, though, as he didn't think it would be appropriate to reveal. They were having a good time, and it would be a waste to ruin it, especially before one of the darkest events of the year.
After he finished speaking, Atlanta paused and looked out over the ocean. "You know," she said softly, "I think if Albarus saw us now, he would be happy with how far we've come."
"Yeah?" Andario didn't quite know how to respond, so he waited for her to continue or change topics.
"Yeah," she repeated. Then, Atlanta took a pause, considering something. "Although, he wouldn't have been too thrilled with me becoming a career tribute." She giggled, which confused Andario even further. He could only muster a hesitant chuckle in response, which prompted Atlanta to continue. "I think he would be happy with who we've become. He'd be proud of us."
Andario pressed his lips together. He wished he could believe the same, but he struggled to see any way Albarus could be proud. Andario thought his older brother would have been more disappointed in himself than anything, blaming his death on his carelessness and his inability to protect them like he wanted to. Yet again, though, Andario didn't like the thought of revealing this to Atlanta, so he simply smiled and nodded in agreement. She was so positive, so hopeful, that he didn't want to tarnish it. He didn't want her to suffer or face reality like he had. He wanted her to live the fulfilling life she was leading, just like his brother had wanted.
They continued chatting about trivial matters that were frequented often or not nearly as serious. They talked of their parents, of the Commune, of the Reaping celebration, of friends, and of neighbours. The rambling and contented laughter continued well into the morning. It was only some time after midday that they finally decided they had sufficiently caught up, and headed towards the bakery to fetch their loaf they were eagerly looking forward to sharing.
As they approached, they instantly smelled the delicious aroma of a fresh batch of cookies being made. Andario instantly registered the smell, as it was present every Reaping day, a Dulse family tradition. Each year, they would bake a fresh batch of chocolate chip cookies — a rarity in District 4 — and wrapped them in their finest napkins designed to demonstrate the first fishing expedition of District 4. They always kept the majority, but made sure to provide a few spare to the tributes' families that year and saved the remainder for the rich customers that were guaranteed to purchase the rare treat, such as the mayor's family or the head Peacekeeper.
Atlanta widely opened the front door, allowing for the small bell above to chime, signalling their entrance. They were greeted by Mr. Dulse, who had grown accustomed to their holiday tradition, and already had the Merlin's Loaf prepared on the counter. Atlanta exchanged greetings and small talk with the hefty man while Andario stood beside her, observing and listening. He then took notice of the scrawny boy who came to join his father at the counter, his hands covered in flour and his face red from exertion.
Andario never failed to be amazed at Keel Dulse's ability to work under the Captain and help with the bakery all at the same time, especially given his stature. The boy was just a year younger than Andario, yet he looked to be just entering adolescence. His face and vigour provided for a youthful appearance, and yet Keel's sunken cheeks and stick-like limbs constantly made him look malnourished, potentially from working so often. He was on the weaker side, leading to Andario doing the majority of the heavy lifting on the Tilda's Glory, but the young boy never failed to put all his effort into helping his fellow deckhand. Andario constantly believed the boy would keel over at any moment, the toll of his labour too great for his feeble body. But Keel never failed to press on, either trudging his way through his hunger or gratefully expending his generous amount of strength, Andario could never tell.
Atlanta had finished her exchange with Mr. Dulse, loaf in hand, and bid farewell to the kind baker. Andario followed suit, giving a kind smile and nod towards the baker and his son. Mr. Dulse nodded back contentedly, but Keel gave a simple dreary smile, leaving Andario puzzled at the meaning as the doors closed just in front of his face.
    Atlanta instantly tore into the loaf, handing a piece to Andario. He took a bite and savoured the seaweed-filled goodness, the bread itself soft and slightly moist. They raved over the deliciousness of the bread on the way home, as they had always done each year, yet Andario continued to question Keel's smile in the back of his mind. He'd never seen the boy anything less than content, his life being nearly a dream in many manners. Why the sudden sad attempt at joy?
    When the two siblings arrived home, their mother was preparing the family for the Reaping that night. She quickly ushered them into the house, forcing clothes into their hands and sending them off to their rooms. Podesta was a woman of image, and she wanted her family looking especially cleaned up when they had the chance of being presented to the Capitol. She had them change into clothes matching the plantation teal that District 4 sported on their banner, probably to demonstrate them as active and supportive members of the Capitol, happy to conduct their assigned industry work and do as they're told. Andario thought it idiotic to support the Capitol ways, but he simply huffed and rolled his eyes as he put on the clothes.
    After locking up the house, the Bocaccios joined the flow of citizens towards the Main Square. All of their neighbours were around them as they made their slow march up towards the designated ceremony grounds. Andario spotted Keel in the crowd, but his face was deadpan, his eyes seemingly housing nothing behind them. The boy's unnerving face did not help Andario's already mounting anxiety, so he looked away towards Atlanta, hoping to see her cheerful smile as always. She did not hold her usual cheerful air, and nervously picked at the locket around her neck that Albarus had gifted her for her eighth birthday. She was nervous for her brother's odds, as she usually was, but Andario only realized as she pressed her locket to her lips that she was nervous for herself as well, given that her name would be entered into the gamble for the first time. He provided some comforting words, and she seemed slightly reassured by them, but the words held no backing or meaning, as he was struggling to fight his own nerves himself.
    As the large herd of people entered the square, they easily organized themselves; the children were to line up by age, oldest nearest the stage and youngest furthest from the stage, while the adults and children too young to participate stood in orderly rows along the side. The stage they were to stand before was built sometime around the 30th Hunger Games and similarly resembled the Lily, with quartz pillars and polished floor creating the illusion of extreme wealth in the District. The building that the stage was connected to was identical to the Lily, the only difference being it was renovated from what definitely used to be a courthouse and retained many aspects of a courthouse. The building was called the House of Justice, and it — along with the stage — was built by The Lady of the Tide Commune using Anguilla and the mayor's combined effort and wealth. Andario always resented everything about the House of Justice, as it stood as a reminder of everything that ever plagued his life.
    Andario stood in line with the rest of the seventeen-year-old boys, nervously fidgeting with his hands that he hid behind his back. He couldn't spot anyone he knew from in the crowds, really. He stood next to old classmates or people he recognized from Tilda's Port, but nobody he actually knew to feel a sense of unity. He decided to focus on the stage to calm his nerves and relax his mind, observing the carvings of waves along the base of the stage, the decorative fish swimming up the pillars, and the pure white podiums holding two bowls filled to the brim with small folded papers. As soon as he saw the papers though, his mind jumped to his odds, then Keel's grim face, then Atlanta's odds, then his sister picking at the locket, then finally to Gabria's hand inevitably shooting up to the sky amidst the crowd, proclaiming her ambitious dream. He shook his head violently, trying to clear the thoughts out of his head, but they continued to cling to his brain.
The Panem anthem suddenly burst out over the square, playing obnoxiously loud to demonstrate the Capitol's pride. As the anthem ran, Andario noticed Anguilla, Osman, and Mayor Galley — who was a dense and round man in a tight navy suit — strolling on stage through the doors of the House of Justice. They each arranged themselves in three of the four chairs sitting between the podiums holding the glass bowls. Simultaneously, Peacekeepers began to line up around the crowd to prevent any potential dangers or attempts to flee. Andario glanced around to see how people were reacting, but the majority continued staring ahead, some petrified and some excited.
The anthem came to a long and generous halt, which signalled the entrance of the District 4 escort, Ryx Glacus. He waltzed in through the same House of Justice doors, opening them wide and flamboyantly presenting himself. Andario always found him strange and a bit funny due to his very specific look. The man was evidently proud of his position representing District 4, demonstrated through his dyed and scaly sea green skin, his royal blue hair, and his surgically implanted fins on his forehead that made him resemble a bug with antennae. He wore a baby blue suit to fit with the theme and to honour the horrifying holiday, which he graciously showed off in a runway-style entrance. He finally made it to the microphone and cleared his throat before addressing District 4 and the Capitol as a whole.
"Hello all! And what a wondrous occasion it is to have on such a fine day!"
    He was greeted to silence, as nobody in District 4 — including the half that were in support of the Capitol — really enjoyed him. He stood, his hands outstretched to the sky, waiting for a reaction. When he realized there would be none, he mumbled something under his breath and quickly jumped back to the enthusiastic man he always presented as. "Now, our great Mayor Galley has a few words to share, including the history behind the Hunger Games and an honouring of our previous fallen tributes!" The green man provided an exaggerated jazz hands as he switched roles with the Mayor, who hobbled up to the mic and began referencing the rebellion through heaving breaths.
    Andario barely paid attention to the speech, as he had heard it each year in the same monotonous tone Mayor Galley always provided. He glanced around, hoping to pinpoint Gabria from out of the crowd so he could be prepared to see the inevitable, but it was near impossible still to distinguish anyone from within the masses.
    The Mayor then began to recite the one-hundred and nine fallen tributes' names to commemorate them, adding in the one fallen District 4 victor after all the previous names had been called for special importance, having brought glory to their District. As Mayor Galley heaved his way through the names, Andario felt his chest tighten at the thought of Gabria's name being added to the list the following year. He hoped that she would not have to be added and be commemorated as all the victors would be after living their fulfilling lives, but he knew the odds were not in her favour.
    Once the Mayor had finally concluded his speeches and commemorations, he hobbled back to his seat, allowing for Ryx to take the stage again. "What a wonderful job our dear Mayor Galley has done!" The aquatic-like man responded. "Let us give him a round of applause!"
    Dead silence followed yet again, the only person clapping being Ryx himself. He abruptly dropped his hands and cleared his throat before composing himself once more. "And without further ado, let us get on with the tribute selection!"
    As District 4's population was spread across the twelve ports, they had eleven of the ports watch from their own town square on a massive monitor hung above their own form of the House of Justice. Ryx and the official ceremony were catered in Tilda's Port due to it being effectively the central hub of the District. If one of the tributes were from another port, the cameramen stationed at the port would find the selected tribute to film as they approached the building's doors to be held before being shipped off to the Capitol. Tilda's Port would be shown the tribute promptly from temporary monitors stationed to the left and right of the stage. Andario always found it strange watching the different reactions of tributes selected from other ports. It felt impersonal in a way, and made him feel emotionless when seeing their face focused in by the cameramen. On the contrary, those selected from Tilda's Port felt extremely personal, as he could see their approach to the stage and witness the raw reaction of the tribute without being warped by a screen. Sometimes, he questioned if that was how Capitol citizens felt, unable to connect or feel guilt and remorse due to the unintentional censorship from electronic projection.
    Ryx skipped his way over to the girls' bowl, presenting a wide smile and lively eyes. He did a slight pirouette as he reached the bowl, presumably for the flare, Andario thought. Ryx took a quick bow, then lifted his hands up into the sky again, wiggling his fingers like worms poking out of muddy terrain. His hands began to drop towards the bowl before he was halted just above the nearest slip of paper.
    "I volunteer!"
    Andario's heart dropped. The moment he had been dreading had arrived. He saw from the corner of his eye where the hand shot up from, and turned to see Gabria's fiercely determined face emerge from the crowd as they dispersed from her like they would from a rabid animal. She confidently marched up to the stage, puffing out her chest and squaring her shoulders as she ascended the stairs. Osman gave an approving nod to his trainee while Anguilla raised an eyebrow and Ryx's mouth drooped down into a long frown.
    "Very well, then," the escort said, his voice tinged with bitterness. "Could have waited until after I asked for volunteers, but so be it." He then straightened his posture and flattened out the creases in his suit. "And who might you be, dear volunteer?"
    "My name is Gabria Cicuta, and I will be the victor of the 57th Hunger Games!" She called the statement confidently, yet Andario could hear the slight giddy excitement in her voice, something that only people who knew her well would pick up on.
    "Wow, a confident one!" Ryx proclaimed with a chuckle. "I'll be sure to keep an eye on you, tiger!"
    Gabria beamed out to the crowd and the cameras, giving a professional bow and taking her stance just behind the girls' podium. She seemed to have won Ryx over, as he watched with his wide smile and provided her with the spotlight until she had settled in. When he seemed content that she had gotten her fill, he strutted over to the boys' podium as though in a performance, exaggerating each step as he gave a little wiggle of his body. "And now, for the boys!" He proclaimed, providing some jazz hands again before lowering his wriggling fingers towards the bowl. He swished the papers around, evidently enjoying and elongating the suspense, along with his subsequent time in the spotlight. Finally, he pinched a paper in between his pointer finger and thumb, gently lifting it out of the sea of names. He carefully unfolded it, slowly flattening out the bends of the paper with his fingers. Finally, he deeply inhaled before calling out the name.
    "Keel Dulse!"
    Andario's heart stopped. Keel? Why would it be Keel? How could it be Keel? He had the perfect life and amazing luck. Andario convinced himself he had heard Ryx wrong. But as he turned around, he recognized everyone had registered the same name as him, and the crowd opened up behind him, revealing Keel's petrified face. Andario's eyes widened and his heart stopped. He had hoped for Gabria's reconsideration, and that hope had led him to disappointment. What he felt now was purely pity and shock as the young boy in front of him slowly marched towards the stairs, his knees shaking and his hands cupped against his thin rib cage near his beating heart. Poor, vulnerable, weak Keel. He stood no chance in the arena based on his contestant Gabria alone. Gabria wouldn't even consider an alliance with the boy, and he would be shunned by the other District tributes for providing nothing of use. Andario figured the boy was trying to present as confident as Gabria, but his heart was probably racing a million miles an hour. A scream echoed out through the crowd, followed swiftly by sobs. Andario spotted Mr. Dulse clutching Mrs. Dulse as she collapsed like a rag doll, weeping and continuing her screeching. Keel noticed, having looked up from his feet for the first time since his name was called.
He gave the same dreary smile he provided Andario, this time to comfort his panicked mother.
Without a second of hesitation, Andario's hand rocketed up. "I volunteer!" He called, crisp and clear, to the point where it was heard over Mrs. Dulse. The silence that followed was deafening as everyone looked to him in shock.
What was he doing?! Why did he volunteer?! He hadn't taken the time to process the situation before his actions jumped in and took over. He didn't want to volunteer, nor did he want all eyes on him like they were currently. He wondered if he could rescind his proclamation, but as he thought about doing so, Keel turned to look at him, the boy's eyes bright and tears welling up.
"I volunteer!" Andario called again, this time conscious of his actions. He heard Keel begin mumbling something as tears streamed down his face. Andario didn't hesitate, and began walking to the stage as Keel screamed in defiance. Andario did not look back until he got to the stairs. He heard the boy running after him. He turned his head, looking at the scrawny kid desperately screaming out for him to take it back. And he smiled.