The Celebrity Hunger Games

Chapter 8: District 8

Danny Jones’ p.o.v

“I hate his guts” I said to my girlfriend Georgia. “He’s your cousin” she reminded me. “I don’t care, I hate him” I said. My cousin Harry and I hated each other. Our parents had hated each other from before we were born, the feelings got passed down. “You hate him because your dad hates his dad and so on” she said rolling her eyes at me. “That’s not true” I said. “You’re completely in denial, your grandfathers hated each other, you fathers hated each other, and so you and Harry hate each other” she said, smiling because she knew she was right. “I have to go” she said, kissing my cheek. She didn’t need to say where; we both knew where she was going, to get ready for the reapings.

“Danny, you need to make up with your cousin” mum said to me. I looked up at her, as did my sister Vicky, both of us completely shocked. “What, why?” I asked her. She sighed and sat down. “I’d hate for you to get picked for the games and not to be friends with him” she said. “You think I’m going to get picked?” I asked her. She shrugged her shoulders, avoiding eye contact with me. “Well there’s no way I'm making up with him, if I get picked he can just feel guilty” I said defiantly, making my way to the reapings.

Being entered for the games scared me, I wasn’t the biggest guy and I knew that I had no real special skills. I barely listened to anything that the host said, I was more scared for Vicky then I was for myself. “The male tribute is... Harry Judd” the host said. Hearing my cousin’s name caused me knees to slightly buckle, I hadn’t expected it. I realised that what my mother said was true; we would never be able to resolve our differences. He may die, and we could never make amends. I could never apologise. Unless I could do something drastic. “I volunteer!” I shouted. I didn’t even know if they asked for a volunteer, but the thought just came to me. I could hear my mum and sister crying, but I turned it into background noise. As I made my way onto the stage I caught Georgia’s eye. She smiled at me, a smile that was almost enough to make me turn back, there and then. But I knew that I had to do this, I had to show Harry that I was sorry. I stood on the stage next to Harry. Looking at him, I could see that he would have had a much higher chance of winning than I did. “What are you doing?” he asked me, sounding more sad than annoyed. “I wanted to apologise for everything” I said quietly. “Don’t you think this is a bit drastic?” he asked me, smiling slightly. “I couldn’t think of anything else, you would’ve died” I said honestly. “But now you will” he said. That was when it hit me; I was going to have to fight in the Hunger Games.

Perrie Edwards’ p.o.v

We were going to get married. I can still remember doodling ‘Mrs Perrie Malik’ on the front of my school books, and failing my subjects because I was dreaming of him. He wasn’t the hottest boy in school, or the smartest, or the coolest. But he stuck out to me; I couldn’t stop staring at him. He was the nicest guy, and I couldn’t wait to ask him out. I was so surprised when he said yes; we were inseparable for 3 years. He proposed to me a week before the reapings, and of course, I said yes straight away. We told our parents and rushed straight into planning. Neither of us thought that we would get picked. When his name was called, I remember falling to the ground and screaming. He refused to look at me, and the next time I saw him was when he was competing. He was killed first, almost instantly. At first people were really supporting and comforting to me. Then they got tired of me not getting ‘better’ right away. But I couldn’t. I wouldn’t forget him.

“Are you ready?” mum asked me. It had been 2 years since Zayn was killed and I was just beginning to say his name again. “I’ll never be ready” I said quietly to myself. Ever since he was killed, I hated the Hunger games. It made me sick that people were chosen to get their lives taken away. Unless you won, but what were the chances of that happening?

“I volunteer” I heard someone from within the crowd shout as the male tribute was called. I wasn’t surprised; it wasn’t unusual for people to volunteer in our district, people who wanted to prove that they were as good as, or even better than the likes of the first two districts. After the first guy left the stage, the new tribute said that his name was Danny Jones. Of course, I didn’t know him. I didn’t know anyone anymore. Then our host drew out the name of the female tribute. “Perrie Edwards”

I made my way onto the stage in silence, not looking at anyone, not even the host. “Well, we have our two tributes. Danny Jones and Perrie Edwards” as the crowd started to clap I grabbed our host’s arm. “I’m not Perrie Edwards” I said. She looked at me, shocked. “Who are you then?” she asked. I looked up to the sky as I answered. “I’m Perrie Malik”