Raison D'être - Treech

[ 1 - seems easy]

IN A WORLD of Capitolian girls, who were diving in luxury and awesome lives, Priscilla didn't stand out much. She attended every Reaping, hoping for the new days for Panem. For the lucky escape from the nightmares glued to the Districts' eyes and not leaving them like a journey on an endless train.

Priscilla was Capitol, from her blood and bones. She just wished that everyone in the country she truly loved wouldn't have to go through a masacre every year.

The Hunger Games were supposed to be a a symbol of suppressing the rebellion and showing gratitude to the Capitol and the rulers of the Panem. Over time, districts became accustomed to the Reaping. But for ten years, every year their blood runs cold, and their hearts seem to stop while the tributes are announced.

Priscilla wasn't fond of the Games. Although her Capitol blood she wasn't sure which side she had taken. She just wanted to fit in. It's a heavy burden that weighs her down, making it difficult for her to find genuine acceptance and belonging to the rest of her classmates.

Priscilla was quite popular, but she still didn't see Capitol as her safeplace. Her best friend - Clemensia Dovecote had an ordinary way for a Capitol girl to see the Hunger Games. Yet, Clemensia and Priscilla's bond was the strongest of all they both ever had.

Priscilla lurched forward through the stairs leading to the Academy, her heels clicking with every single step. She was wearing white, flowy pants, silk, black shirt and black heels. Priscilla knew she wasn't going to win the Plinth Prize, although she was one of the best students.

She was perfect in everything. Or maybe she tried to. She was a good daughter, friend and student. She even had almost the highest grades.

But then, Coriolanus Snow existed. And Priscilla was second to him in every single thing in the Academy.

Walking into the Academy, she spotted Arachne, Festus, Felix, Lysistrata and Coriolanus standing in a small circle, chattering about something.

"Did you see his mother's outfit? I'm sorry, his Ma's." Priscilla caught Festus' words. "Hope I'm not interrupting." She approached the group.

"Priscilla, of course not." Arachne said in her high-pitched tone. Every time this girl opened her mouth, Priscilla wanted to throw up.

"We all know you two like him." Arachne brought Sejanus' subject back, pointing at Coriolanus and Priscilla. "I don't like him, Arachne. I tolerate him." Coriolanus corrected. "And I like him." Priscilla shrugged.

Everyone's eyes landed on her. "He's district." One of them reminded. "So?" said Priscilla with a sarcastic smile.

"I hear one more time about how immortal these Games are, I'll put him into the Arena-" Festus stopped at the sight of Sejanus approaching them.

"Sejanus." Festus greeted the guy. "You made it to the Reaping for once." "And you made it
to graduation, Festus. We're both shocked." Sejanus fake-smiled. "Spill it. Who won the prize?" Arachne asked.

"Oh, no, I'm not gonna ruin my father's big day." Plinth boy declared. "No one here actually likes him, but they do love his money." He stated. "You know what that's like,
don't you, Arachne?" Priscilla asked with a sarcastic smile. "Funny." Arachne replied with the same one.

Capitol's anthem filled their ears, and the group separated. Priscilla took a seat next to Lysistrata, who smiled at her again. But someone else caught the Trinket girl attention.

She gently tapped two times on Clemensia's shoulder. The dark-haired girl's neck snapped to face her. "Nice to see you, Clemmie." Priscilla chuckled, seeing her best friend's smile. "Hey Pria." Clemensia greeted, standing up a bit to embrace her best friend.

The girls chit-chatted for a moment, before a terrible Dr. Gaul's laugh filled their ears. "How tantalizing to see all your shining young faces on this auspicious day. I am Dr. Volumnia Gaul, your humble Head Gamemaker, in charge of the war Department and all its affiliated concerns. I've broken free of my laboratory today, to examine you. The leaders of the next generation. I won't be around forever, after all." She stopped to let out a chuckle.

"And now to that end, I am honored to introduce to you the creator of the Hunger Games themselves. Dean Casca Highbottom!" Dr. Gaul snapped at the Dean, who quickly hid a small bottle of liquid he has drunk.

"Select students, faculty, and, of course, Dr. Gaul." He spoke. "I have summoned you all here today for the 10th annual Reaping Ceremony in which we choose two children from each district to throw into the Capitol Arena to fight to the death in the Hunger Games." Highbottom declared in a monotonous tone.

"I can't believe they still allow him to speak in public." No one even bothered to argue with Clemensia.

"And here sit... our own 24 top prospects all waiting to hear the results of hard study in this
prestigious institution." He noticed, looking at the students. "Eager to learn who's won that
Plinth Prize, no doubt. And a golden future."

"However, I am here to tell you that there has been a change this year. One final assignment
to prove your worth."

Priscilla raised her head a bit. She could do every assignment they'll tell her too, but she still felt anxious about it. Knowing Dr. Gaul and Dean Highbottom, everything could be possible.

"Because... the esteemed citizens of the Capitol have grown bored of the Games and simply aren't watching anymore." Highbottom continued. "And if the Games are to continue at all, there must be an audience." He chuckled.

"What if they don't continue at all?" Lysistrata, sitting next to Priscilla, proposed. "That'd be nice." The blonde sighed.

"So, Head Gamemaker Dr. Gaul has stepped in to... incentivize patriotic values with her own unique flair, starting with you. The Plinth Prize will no longer be determined by who has the best grades."

"What?" Priscilla gasped, catching Lysistrata's and Clemensia's gazes. "But by who is the best mentor in the Hunger Games." Highbottom exclaimed.

"What the actual fu-" Lysistrata didn't have a chance to finish, because the Dean spoke up again. "This is a brand new role. As the Reaping progresses live, I will allocate each district tribute a Capitol mentor behind the scenes, one who must just persuade them to perform for the cameras."

"Obviously, the best mentor will be the one whose tribute wins the Games." Highbottom stated. "What if I get a pathetic runt girl from one of the poor districts, like 8 or 12?" Arachne asked. "I get Arachnephobia right when I listen to her." Clemensia whispered to Priscilla, making the blonde snort quietly.

"They're just gonna die in two minutes like they did last year and the year before." Arachne argued. "Well, I hope she'll get that runt girl." Priscilla leaned closer to whisper into Clemensia's ear.

"Your role is to turn these children into spectacles, Ms. Crane. Not survivors." The Dean corrected.

"Victory in the Games is only one of our considerations. Your entire future rests on this last project. Oh, and I must tell you that anyone caught cheating to give their tributes an unfair advantage..." He stopped to let out a small laugh. "will just have no future at all."

₊˚•. ↳ a/n
Hi!! Welcome to the first chapter. I want to say a HUGE thank you for reading. Please don't be a silent reader, I'd love to read your comments💞