Our Love Could Be Lethal Act I Re-Write

Act I: Accidental Acquisitions

After a little more talking with Haymitch who tries to explain to me some of the other games in the casino and how they work, Cecelia decides to tag out and Haymitch replaces him. The other poker table had dissolved, most of the victors instead choosing to lounge around the bar and make idle chat with one another.

I learn from Cecelia more about District 8 than I ever had in school. The way she talks about it, the way of life over there is very, very different than it is in 2. The giant factories where they're all made to sit and sew garments, process fabrics—even the children—and they get paid by the number of pieces they turn out in a day. Even their teachers will sometimes take up shifts at the factory after the school day is done, because one job doesn't pay enough to keep you afloat.

It's very different than it is in 2 to say the least. There are only 7 active quarries in district 2—despite masonry technically being our job—and only 2 of them are on the outskirts of the main town. The rest are in the smaller villages. The big town where I live is where the workers who process the stone are. They take the raw stone and turn them into bricks and tiles and columns, and sometimes even prepare slabs to be sent to Capitolian artists to be carved into statues. Even though it has some rough areas, where I live you won't have a problem getting a hold of food with the wages the average person makes, the quality of the food however, is what varies wildly.

What I have to leave out in our conversation of course, is the other industry going on within 2. The other reason our citizens are richer than most other districts. The Peacekeeper money pays better than any regular job you'll find in the district. They don't get paid as much as the Capitolian Peacekeepers, but it's still a significant wage to send home to your family every month. There are many tests you have to pass of course, and nearly all of the Academy students who don't get selected for the Games go on to become Peacekeepers. The smaller villages on the outskirts have their own, much smaller, and much less official academies that the children go to after school from ages 4-11, and then once they're old enough, usually in the summer, they're shipped out to the main town to try-out for the Academy. Those who don't make it, or those who drop out of our Academy usually enroll in the Peacekeeper school.

We continue to talk about home and Cecelia tells me she's going to be getting married soon. And what amazes me even more is that she's marrying a normal person from back home. Not a victor, not a person who's ever trained for the Games, just a normal man from 8 who goes to the factories in the morning and comes home at night. I didn't really think that people who have been to the Hunger Games could ever have a happy relationship, but it seems Cecelia presents an interesting enigma to my previous assumptions.

I decide to go and return some of the chips I took out as I don't think that I'll be needing them all anymore, I feel more than content sitting out and chatting everyone up. But as the man behind the counter double and triple checks my count, out of the corner of my eye, I spot a man plop down a bucket filled with chips near a plant in the corner of the room. I don't immediately recognize the colour for any chips that our group have taken out until I turn to the information board and see that each one of those tiny tokens is more money than my salary as a victor—and I thought I was stinking rich. I mean, I am compared to the rest of 2. But here? When it comes to funds I am just a small fish in a very, very big pond.

A creeping feeling sends a small shiver up my spine at the thought. I now know why the victors like to stick together and avoid the Capitolians, other than the obvious of course. But then, and even more curiously, the man leaves the bucket and walks off. He leaves what is probably tens of millions of dollars on the floor as if it's nothing. I can't seem to take my eyes off the sight. It's so strange. Surely even in the Capitol people can't afford to leave sums like that? "Do people usually leave that much money lying around?" I ask him.