"Maybe it's been years
since I genuinely smiled.
Maybe it's been years
since I wanted to be apart of anything."
Dexter Lowhill, District Elevens sixth winner of the 69th Hunger Games at the ripe age of eighteen years old.
It was his last reaping for...
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"We're all just kids."
69th Hunger Games
Dexter stood behind the stage, watching as the boy from District Ten buttered up the capitol as he talked very loudly with Caesar Flickerman. District ten seemed to have more camera training than Dexter got. Dexter was insanely nervous, his heart beating out of his chest as he tried to breathe normally, but his stupid clothes weren't helping in the slightest.
A corset would not be his first choice of clothing, but Marina had claimed it made him look 'more fabulous than he already was' so he went with it. A big, way too big button-up and way too big pants with the stupidly tight corset to keep it all together. It was too tight, while his other clothes were too loose, and everything was making him so uncomfortable he just wanted to scream.
"Oh, god," Jasmine, his district partner, had muttered under her breath as she was almost up. She glanced up at Dexter, squeezing his hand tightly. "What if... what if everyone hates me, and I do a bad job?" The fifteen-year-old girl asked quietly.
Dexter shook his head, squeezing her hand. "You'll do great, okay? I promise," He whispered, moving behind her to fix her hair for her. It was way curly, curlier than Dexters. Jasmine's designer wasn't sure exactly how to style her hair, so Dexter had helped a little to make her look more presentable.
"Okay," She whispered. She was wearing a similar outfit to Dexter's, but hers was less revealing and was more yellow and white while Dexter's was darker greens and browns.
When the crowd started cheering and the boy from ten walked off the stage, Dexter noticed Jasmine's eyes started to well up with tears.
"Hey, hey," He whispered, cupping her face and wiping away the tears before they could fall completely down her cheeks. "Don't be scared. If you get scared, look over at me. I'll be right here, watching the whole time, okay?" He assured her over and over again as she trembled in his arms.
She nodded quickly, wiping her nose as Caesar called out her name. "Promise?" She whispered, beginning to walk away.
"Promise," He told her, rubbing her back before she walked on stage.
Dexter stepped back and held his breath as she sat down on the chair. He accidentally made eye contact with Caesar, who seemed only a little understanding. Dexter glared slightly at the older man with bright pink hair, and Caesar nodded slightly at Dexter.
Dexter didn't like Caesar. He was stuck up, annoying, and obnoxious. But when he watched Caesar smile at the girl warmly and not use his loud and annoying voice when speaking directly towards her, he felt some of his hatred dial down a little for the older man.
"She's nervous, huh?"
Dexter turned his head at the new voice, his eyebrows furrowing slightly as a boy joined his side. He vaguely recognized the boy as the one from twelve, a year younger than Dexter. Blonde shaggy hair, bright green eyes. He resembled an elf, his ears even being slightly pointed at the end, adorned with what looked like a million silver piercings. Dexter wondered if the boy's designer had gotten them done fairly recently for the interviews, as his ears still looked a little irritated.
