When The Universe Collides

Chapter 4

(Phil Lester's POV)

"So what, they just expect us to watch this?"

"Obviously."

"Phil, you can't just sit there. We need to let them see we're okay."

"And how do you expect us to do that Chris? We are literally in the back, top floor of a giant amphitheater filled with thousands of outrageous looking people. How are we supposed to get their attention!?"

"I know..." he sits back down and puts his head in his hands, "What are we going to do?"

"We are going to sit back and watch the interviews. And try to figure out what can do to help them once they're in the arena. We can't get them out now, you know that Chris."

When we went into the hotel directly after the reaping those not chosen got sent to a completely different part than the tributes. Then we discovered that we would sort of be acting as the mentors once the games started. Only we had no contact with any of the tributes whatsoever, asides from seeing how high, or low, they scored. And we could help whichever tributes we wanted. So, naturally, everyone subconsciously agreed to help their friends. Some had more 'mentors' than others, but that really wasn't much of an advantage.

Suddenly a loud echoed throughout the auditorium, "Ladies and gentlemen, your Master of Ceremonies: Caesar Flickermen!!"

The crowd went wild as the man who was very obviously Caesar, with dark purple hair and makeup, appeared on the stage. I could see the twenty-four tributes sitting behind him. Twelve of us, twelve of them. When the first girl came up to the front everyone onstage seemed to freeze, except for her and Caesar. They talked for some time, but nothing about her seemed to stand out, not even her outfit really, just a simple golden dress that went to about her knees.

"Dan's next," whispered Chris.

As if on cue the girl was dismissed. Everyone seemed to unfreeze as Caesar announced my friend's name. Come on Dan, you're a radio host; don't be too scared, you've got this...

"So Dan Howell, care to explain what you do for a living?" Caesar asks.

He puts on a huge smile, "I host a radio show with one of my best friends, Phil. This show is meant as a form of entertainment and a source of excellent music. I also am, what I like to call, an internet cult leader. Basically I post comedic videos and help people feel better about themselves."

Good job so far...

Caesar laughs, "Well that sure sounds interesting, and you seem to have a bit of an accent. The audience knows you aren't from here, but where are you from exactly?"

"Um, well I'm not sure what it would be called here... but I'm from London, England in the United Kingdom... Europe. Oh, the year 2012."

The crowd cheered at that. Apparently they managed to understand his awkwardness, which is good. I could tell by looking at him that he was terrified. Sure, he was grinning like he was having the time of his life, but after knowing him for so long I could tell it was forced. Plus his hands were really fidgety, a dead give-away. Caesar was very helpful throughout this 'process', just like in the book. Somehow he managed to cleanly glide around that topic of his low score. The interview neared its end.

"So Dan, is there anything you'd like to say before you go?"

He choked, "Um, yes, yes there is. Thank you. Thank you to everyone back home. Even though I'm scared to death I might die, I know that I must be pretty successful to have been chosen to be here, which I guess I should take as a compliment. A terrifying compliment... But thank you, everyone who's helped me through all the rough times in my life, and everyone who's been there for the good times. And Phil... Even though I doubt you can hear me right now, thank you. Thank you so much, for everything. You saved me Phil; I don't know where I'd be now without you. Thank you so, so much."

I put my head in my hands as Caesar sent him back to his chair and cried. This hasn't felt more real until now. My best friend is set up to die, and there's only so much I can do to try and save him.

(Gerard Way's POV)

I sit back and try to relax. Well, that's not going to happen. This isn't even stage fright, I got over that years ago. Just the matter of everything that's happening is slowly driving me crazy. Not just the whole 'Hunger Games' part, but the people. Liam and Louis walk around like they think they're the shit. Alex and Jack are apparently a couple of my really good friends. And Katniss! Not just Katniss, but Rose, Rory and Captain Jack.  They're real people here. Like real, living, breathing people. Not actors or actresses. They don't even look quite like the actors. Well, they do, but... different.

And all these thoughts are completely terrifying.

I am going into a fight to the death against a girl who looked into the heart of the TARDIS and lived to tell the tale. With a young woman who started a rebellion and freed a nation. With a man who has died multiple times, and always comes back just to save to world. Boys who reach millions through the internet. Guitarists as talented as MMA fighters. Singers who can hit a target with a switchblade from over 20 feet away. Comedians who turn out to be technological geniuses.

I feel hopeless.

Names get called. People talk. It's all talk, who knows what's true. No one here is 'honored', that is a lie for sure. We're all terrified, deep down. Caesar is good with questions, he gets everyone where they need to be. The interviews seem to be going by so fast, but it feels like it's taking forever. They talk about their jobs, their spouses, friends, family, everything. The questions are almost unique to each person. And before I know it I hear my name being announced and feel my legs carrying me to the front of the stage.

Instinct kicks in and I can hear myself answering the same useless questions asked in nearly every interview ever. I talk about Lindsey, about Bandit, about the band. I talk about the experience, I say it's been amazing. I tell them I'm scared, but confident I at least have a chance. So many lies, so many lies. I'm an artist, not a fighter. How is there any chance I could win this? So much of my music is about death, but could I really cast that onto someone? Maybe the animal instincts everyone talks about will actually show up, who knows. But right now, I feel hopeless.