The Reckless And The Brave - Chapter 18
Pairing: Jalex, Riassadee, slight Rydon.
Rating: PG-13.
Summary: Each year, the Capitol of Panem forces each of its twelve districts to send one boy and one girl between the ages of twelve and eighteen to fight to the death on national TV - until Alex Gaskarth, of District 11, and Jack Barakat, of District 7, change everything.
Disclaimer: Fictional. Title credit to All Time Low. Based on The Hunger Games.
Author's Notes: I rewrote this chapter because the original sucked.
Dedicated to: Everyone who has ever read and commented on this story. Thank you.
Masterpost
"I should warn you, they're not happy." Brendon slips the black silk through Alex's starched butterfly collar. Ever since the Games ended, he's been eyeing the chestnut-haired boy with concern.
"Why not?"
"Apparently there's another rebellion going on right now. It actually started from 11, and now it's spreading."
"Because... when you were singing to... Taylor." Ryan's voice cracks.
"And Jack. When you kissed Jack," Brendon whispers the last part.
"And Cassadee and Rian." Tributes are supposed to kill each other... not fall in love. Especially not with other tributes of the same sex.
"Actually, I'm surprised they didn't cut out your tongues already. Here." Brendon pulls the wings of the bow tie into place.
"Tonight will be nothing short of incredible," Gabe Saporta announces. "Each year, a star gets the spotlight. But this year, we have, not one, but five victors."
He pauses. "Now let's welcome our first winner... from District 4... Zack Merrick!"
The applause is warmer, more sincere than usual. Zack and Saporta shake hands.
"Congratulations!" They sit down. "So, Zack, talk about what this feels like."
"It's... It's a relief. It's a huge relief." Zack smiles.
"I understand." Saporta nods. "I totally understand."
Jack.
"I've got one more question. We were very touched when you - " Saporta turns to the audience " - actually protected a few of the other tributes." Cut to the video. Martin draws his sword and advances on a terrified Christofer. Jonathan attacks Tay. Jack shoots both of them. "How did that make you feel?"
Jack's smile fades, his eyes huge and sad. "Better than if I didn't do it, I guess."
Alex.
"Are you excited for the Victory Feast tomorrow night?"
"YES."
The audience laughs. "That is actually my favorite thing about the Capitol. The food."
"Especially the chocolate muffins, right?"
"Exactly."
Cassadee.
"You look beautiful."
"Thanks."
"Are you excited for the closing ceremonies?"
"Yeah."
"You should be. Nobody will be able to keep their eyes off you!"
"Uh... thanks." There's only one head she wants to turn.
Rian.
"So, Rian, how does it feel to win?"
"It's great." Rian plays with his diamond cuff links, a nod to the mining district.
"How many victors has 12 had again? Three?"
"Four."
"Well, now you've got two more. District 12 is on its way up."
When they enter the Justice Building, Alex's eyes glow with amazement. In the middle of the lobby is a long table completely covered with the Victory Feast.
There's the traditional basket with twelve different kinds of bread. Bread from District 1 dusted with actual gold dust and from District 3 dusted with coffee powder, symbolizing the factory worker's morning cup of coffee. Leaf-shaped loaves from 7 and gem-shaped, faceted ones from 12. Whole-grain rolls from 9, hot rolls from 10 stuffed with pork, the familiar fruit-and-nut buns from 11.
There are crackers, smoked salmon and caviar. There are huge wheels of cheese and a Cornucopia basket of fruit, a bigger version of Tay's basket. There's roast game - rabbit, turkey, duck, pheasant, quail, even a roast deer in the center of the table. Ten different kinds of seafood. A rainbow of sushi. Noodles in seven different sauces. French fries cooked in truffle oil. A salad bar on a separate table. Dessert on another table - a huge chocolate cake, miniature chocolate souffles, four different kinds of cheesecake, berries in whipped cream, apple turnovers, cannolis, cheese danishes, cream puffs, creme brulee and caramel, doughnuts, fruit tarts, meringues, muffins (chocolate!), tiramisu, ice cream in fancy glasses. On the left side of the Great Hall, cows and pigs and sheep and goats rotate on spits, right next to three-foot-tall towers of Yorkshire pudding. On the right side is the open bar. The band plays on a stage overlooking the feast.
Alex fills his plate with a little bit of everything and sits down at an empty table. Jack sits down next to him.
Their eyes connect, and Jack's fill with tears. Alex immediately understands. Martin and Christofer. Jonathan and him. It was either kill someone or let someone else die.
"It's OK. Here." He stands up and walks over to the open bar, returning with two goblets of red wine.
"Thanks." Jack smiles. "But I just don't wanna overdo it." There are a few victors known for drinking too much, trying to dull the pain. One guy recently drank himself to death.
"It's gonna be all right, I promise." Alex raises his glass. "To Taylor Jardine." She would have been proud.
"Taylor." They drink.
"Rian, what's wrong?" Cass touches his arm gingerly.
"It's just..." Rian sighs. "Why do they have all this, and we have nothing? And the only way to have anything at all is to kill people!"
"We didn't kill anyone, Rian." Cass wraps her right arm around Rian's shoulders and her left arm around his waist, and they rotate slowly to the music.
"Maybe they have nothing." Cass smirks. "Except money."
Rian smiles - those teeth! she thinks - and presses his lips against hers.
The closing ceremony is what is expected - clowns, pop stars and dancers - but for the first time since the first Hunger Games, boos and insults mix with the cheers and applause. The Capitol is waking up.
President Havok looks down on the plaza with cold disdain.
The feast at the Cornucopia had been a trick. He had sent Travis McCoy to have his tongue cut out, and had given the order to reactivate the mines. If the boys from 7 or 11 or the tributes from 12 approached from the front of the Cornucopia - where the feast tables are set up - and crossed the starting line, they would set them off. Their deaths would look like an accident.
But it was the Careers who set them off. And to top it off, the Head Gamemaker had somehow managed to escape.
Havok's efforts to contain the blaze have failed. Panem is burning.
There's a disturbance, a scuffle, right under the balcony. When the president stands up to see over the railing, a figure in a white uniform aims and throws. Cries of shock erupt from the crowd like hats tossed into the air.
Flyzik had been a knife thrower in the Games and an excellent one.
The butcher knife just misses the president. The line of Peacekeepers standing on the front steps, guarding the Justice Building, rip their guns from their holsters and fire, the bullets plunging into the Avox's heart. Flyzik plummets to the ground.
Then another shot rings out.
The plaza falls silent.
Jade lowers his gun, keeping his eyes fixed on Havok's. Blood pours from the wound in the president's side.
When he had overheard his superior call the Control Center, he had gone down to the holding cells in the basement of the Justice Building. He had informed McCoy of Havok's plan, and the Head Gamemaker had hurried back to the Tribute Tower. He made it to the Control Center just in time to stop the five remaining tributes from killing themselves all at once.
Now he's watching the blood drain from Havok's face and cascade off the balcony.
"Jade," Havok whispers.
He collapses.
Only then do Flyzik's eyes finally shut.
Mission accomplished.
Jade takes his final steps up to the podium.
The plaza blurs into a shocked, colorful cloud. A child sobs somewhere in the audience.
He touches his lips to the microphone. Whining feedback. After it fades he speaks his last two words, softly.
"Forgive me."
Then he touches the barrel of his gun to his chest and pulls the trigger.
Rating: PG-13.
Summary: Each year, the Capitol of Panem forces each of its twelve districts to send one boy and one girl between the ages of twelve and eighteen to fight to the death on national TV - until Alex Gaskarth, of District 11, and Jack Barakat, of District 7, change everything.
Disclaimer: Fictional. Title credit to All Time Low. Based on The Hunger Games.
Author's Notes: I rewrote this chapter because the original sucked.
Dedicated to: Everyone who has ever read and commented on this story. Thank you.
Masterpost
"I should warn you, they're not happy." Brendon slips the black silk through Alex's starched butterfly collar. Ever since the Games ended, he's been eyeing the chestnut-haired boy with concern.
"Why not?"
"Apparently there's another rebellion going on right now. It actually started from 11, and now it's spreading."
"Because... when you were singing to... Taylor." Ryan's voice cracks.
"And Jack. When you kissed Jack," Brendon whispers the last part.
"And Cassadee and Rian." Tributes are supposed to kill each other... not fall in love. Especially not with other tributes of the same sex.
"Actually, I'm surprised they didn't cut out your tongues already. Here." Brendon pulls the wings of the bow tie into place.
"Tonight will be nothing short of incredible," Gabe Saporta announces. "Each year, a star gets the spotlight. But this year, we have, not one, but five victors."
He pauses. "Now let's welcome our first winner... from District 4... Zack Merrick!"
The applause is warmer, more sincere than usual. Zack and Saporta shake hands.
"Congratulations!" They sit down. "So, Zack, talk about what this feels like."
"It's... It's a relief. It's a huge relief." Zack smiles.
"I understand." Saporta nods. "I totally understand."
Jack.
"I've got one more question. We were very touched when you - " Saporta turns to the audience " - actually protected a few of the other tributes." Cut to the video. Martin draws his sword and advances on a terrified Christofer. Jonathan attacks Tay. Jack shoots both of them. "How did that make you feel?"
Jack's smile fades, his eyes huge and sad. "Better than if I didn't do it, I guess."
Alex.
"Are you excited for the Victory Feast tomorrow night?"
"YES."
The audience laughs. "That is actually my favorite thing about the Capitol. The food."
"Especially the chocolate muffins, right?"
"Exactly."
Cassadee.
"You look beautiful."
"Thanks."
"Are you excited for the closing ceremonies?"
"Yeah."
"You should be. Nobody will be able to keep their eyes off you!"
"Uh... thanks." There's only one head she wants to turn.
Rian.
"So, Rian, how does it feel to win?"
"It's great." Rian plays with his diamond cuff links, a nod to the mining district.
"How many victors has 12 had again? Three?"
"Four."
"Well, now you've got two more. District 12 is on its way up."
When they enter the Justice Building, Alex's eyes glow with amazement. In the middle of the lobby is a long table completely covered with the Victory Feast.
There's the traditional basket with twelve different kinds of bread. Bread from District 1 dusted with actual gold dust and from District 3 dusted with coffee powder, symbolizing the factory worker's morning cup of coffee. Leaf-shaped loaves from 7 and gem-shaped, faceted ones from 12. Whole-grain rolls from 9, hot rolls from 10 stuffed with pork, the familiar fruit-and-nut buns from 11.
There are crackers, smoked salmon and caviar. There are huge wheels of cheese and a Cornucopia basket of fruit, a bigger version of Tay's basket. There's roast game - rabbit, turkey, duck, pheasant, quail, even a roast deer in the center of the table. Ten different kinds of seafood. A rainbow of sushi. Noodles in seven different sauces. French fries cooked in truffle oil. A salad bar on a separate table. Dessert on another table - a huge chocolate cake, miniature chocolate souffles, four different kinds of cheesecake, berries in whipped cream, apple turnovers, cannolis, cheese danishes, cream puffs, creme brulee and caramel, doughnuts, fruit tarts, meringues, muffins (chocolate!), tiramisu, ice cream in fancy glasses. On the left side of the Great Hall, cows and pigs and sheep and goats rotate on spits, right next to three-foot-tall towers of Yorkshire pudding. On the right side is the open bar. The band plays on a stage overlooking the feast.
Alex fills his plate with a little bit of everything and sits down at an empty table. Jack sits down next to him.
Their eyes connect, and Jack's fill with tears. Alex immediately understands. Martin and Christofer. Jonathan and him. It was either kill someone or let someone else die.
"It's OK. Here." He stands up and walks over to the open bar, returning with two goblets of red wine.
"Thanks." Jack smiles. "But I just don't wanna overdo it." There are a few victors known for drinking too much, trying to dull the pain. One guy recently drank himself to death.
"It's gonna be all right, I promise." Alex raises his glass. "To Taylor Jardine." She would have been proud.
"Taylor." They drink.
"Rian, what's wrong?" Cass touches his arm gingerly.
"It's just..." Rian sighs. "Why do they have all this, and we have nothing? And the only way to have anything at all is to kill people!"
"We didn't kill anyone, Rian." Cass wraps her right arm around Rian's shoulders and her left arm around his waist, and they rotate slowly to the music.
"Maybe they have nothing." Cass smirks. "Except money."
Rian smiles - those teeth! she thinks - and presses his lips against hers.
The closing ceremony is what is expected - clowns, pop stars and dancers - but for the first time since the first Hunger Games, boos and insults mix with the cheers and applause. The Capitol is waking up.
President Havok looks down on the plaza with cold disdain.
The feast at the Cornucopia had been a trick. He had sent Travis McCoy to have his tongue cut out, and had given the order to reactivate the mines. If the boys from 7 or 11 or the tributes from 12 approached from the front of the Cornucopia - where the feast tables are set up - and crossed the starting line, they would set them off. Their deaths would look like an accident.
But it was the Careers who set them off. And to top it off, the Head Gamemaker had somehow managed to escape.
Havok's efforts to contain the blaze have failed. Panem is burning.
There's a disturbance, a scuffle, right under the balcony. When the president stands up to see over the railing, a figure in a white uniform aims and throws. Cries of shock erupt from the crowd like hats tossed into the air.
Flyzik had been a knife thrower in the Games and an excellent one.
The butcher knife just misses the president. The line of Peacekeepers standing on the front steps, guarding the Justice Building, rip their guns from their holsters and fire, the bullets plunging into the Avox's heart. Flyzik plummets to the ground.
Then another shot rings out.
The plaza falls silent.
Jade lowers his gun, keeping his eyes fixed on Havok's. Blood pours from the wound in the president's side.
When he had overheard his superior call the Control Center, he had gone down to the holding cells in the basement of the Justice Building. He had informed McCoy of Havok's plan, and the Head Gamemaker had hurried back to the Tribute Tower. He made it to the Control Center just in time to stop the five remaining tributes from killing themselves all at once.
Now he's watching the blood drain from Havok's face and cascade off the balcony.
"Jade," Havok whispers.
He collapses.
Only then do Flyzik's eyes finally shut.
Mission accomplished.
Jade takes his final steps up to the podium.
The plaza blurs into a shocked, colorful cloud. A child sobs somewhere in the audience.
He touches his lips to the microphone. Whining feedback. After it fades he speaks his last two words, softly.
"Forgive me."
Then he touches the barrel of his gun to his chest and pulls the trigger.