Living Lies ✜ Hunger Games x Reader

Promises

No matter how painful, you know it's the right thing to do.

You're vaguely aware of shouting behind you as you approach the stage—Prim and Katniss, no doubt. "Well, well. It looks like we have our very first volunteer!" Effie claps excitedly, giving you unnecessary help climbing onto the stage. "Now, what's your name, dear?"

"Y/n. Y/n Y/l/n," you respond, jaw tight, voice strained so as to hide the fear. You wouldn't change your decision to volunteer, but that didn't mean you wanted to be in the Games. If you want to get out of this alive, you'll have to present yourself as a confident tribute—which might prove to be harder than actually surviving in the arena. But isn't that really what the Hunger Games is all about? Putting on a show for the Capitol, playing the audience, hoping that you can just seem good enough to win the Games?

Effie's voice slices through your thoughts like a knife. "And now, for the boy tribute," she trills, dipping her gloved hand into the other bowl of names. You cast your eyes towards Gale, spotting him easily, and pray that the name read aloud wouldn't be his. It's bad enough that you are in this already—the last thing you want is to have to see him suffer through it too. Perhaps even watch him die. Not to mention, Katniss would potentially—probably—have to watch both of her friends die.

"Peeta Mellark."

Recognizing the name immediately, you internally curse your luck. Out of all of the other boys in District 12, Effie draws the name of the baker's son? Of course.

You've watched him your entire childhood, because you saw how he watched Katniss. And you can't ignore the fact that he had once saved her and your lives, tossing her that bit of bread that your family and the Everdeens had shared. Thinking of that, however, only increases your guilt at the thought of possibly having to kill him.

Lost in thought, you don't see him climb onto the platform and join you. "Now, you must shake hands," Effie directs, smiling daintily.

Trying not to think about it too much, you stick out your hand. When Peeta grasps your hand, you look as far away from him as possible, searching for Gale's face in the crowd. You hope that Peeta gets the message—that he shouldn't expect anything but cold shoulders and apathy from his district partner.

Effie claps enthusiastically as she presents her "two lovely tributes", but she's the only one. Your eyes, panning across the crowds, stop when you see Katniss. Her eyes lock with yours and she raises three of her fingers in salute. Gratitude, fear, realization—it all hits at once, threatening to overwhelm you. And when everybody else follows her lead, you can only stand, still as stone, breath in your throat, and hope that they can see just how grateful you are. Because the Capitol would never let you tell them that.

After exiting the stage, you and Peeta are ushered into separate rooms, and you realize that this is the part where you say goodbye to your loved ones—perhaps for the last time. Pacing anxiously and watching the door as if it might bite, you startle when it swings open. Much to your surprise, your mom enters the room first. She hovers awkwardly in the doorway, avoiding your gaze, before finally lifting her head. You spy the tears glistening in her eyes, and any resolve you had immediately crumbles. Rushing over, you wrap your arms around her tightly.

"Mom, please don't cry," you implore, looking her directly in the eye. "When you cry, I cry, and we both know I can't afford that."

"I'm so sorry, honey. With what happened to your father, now..." she trails off, laying a hand on your cheek. "I can't lose my daughter."

Your heart breaks a little more when you hear her tone. "I'm not going to die in there," you tell her (and to a degree, yourself) firmly, "And when I win, maybe I can even get Dad the medicine he needs."

This is, of course, just hope. Hope and odds; one in twenty-four, to be exact. But no matter how unlikely your survival seems now, you can't show resignation. Not to her, not to Peeta, and definitely not to the Capitol.

Your mother hesitates, swiping a finger under her eyes to catch the tears. "My clever girl," she says finally, grasping your hands between her own, "I know you'll be okay."

"I will be," you promise, and give her one last tight hug before she is escorted from the room. As she leaves, you brace yourself for the next visitor, whoever that may be.

The next time that the door swings open, Katniss and Prim enter. The latter throws her arms around you, sobbing. You wrap your arms around her small frame and stand there in silence for a few moments. Katniss lays her hand on your shoulder, and when she speaks her voice is almost reproachful. "I don't know why you did that. It should have been me."

You shake your head stubbornly. "No, Kat. My mother can take care of herself, but you have Prim and your mother to care for," you say, letting go of Prim and grabbing Katniss' shoulders. "I'll tell you the same thing I told my mom—I will find a way to come home."

"Y/n, because you volunteered for me, everyone is going to be expecting you to win," Prim says, biting her lip anxiously.

Katniss nods, her grey eyes boring into your own. "She's right, you'll be a target."

The peacekeeper standing by the door moves to usher the sisters out, and you assume that your time with them is nearly up. You wrap your arms tighter around Prim, and in turn Katniss embraces the both of you. In that moment, you're sure this is the closest you have ever felt to them. "I'll be thinking of you in the entire time."

Katniss and Prim allow the peacekeeper to escort them from the room, casting glances back over their shoulder. None of you dare to say goodbye—that would seem like the nail in your coffin.

Nearly a full minute passes, and you begin to think that the visits are over. But then the door swings open quietly and an even quieter visitor enters. As soon as he enters, your guard drops. "Gale."

He wastes no time, immediately striding forward and pulling you close. For a moment, you relax in his arms and let yourself pretend that you aren't potentially being sent to your death. Pulling back, he tilts your chin so that you have to look him in the eye. Damn him, he knows how awkward you feel about eye contact. "Listen, Y/n, I don't care what the odds say. You're experienced. If you get your hands on a set of knives, you can beat them all."

"I know that, Gale," you say cautiously, hoping to avoid a disagreement, "I know that I'm good. But this isn't just about survival skills—everyone will be working against me. When's the last time District 12 got a sponsor, or a set of weapons?"

"They just want a show. If you show your skills, then they can't ignore you."

"That's what I'm afraid of."

You can almost see the thoughts tumbling around in his head as he gazes at you. "I can't believe this is happening," he says finally, tucking a loose strand of hair behind your ear. "It's nightmare. I feel like I should be grabbing you and our families and running for the hills."

"But we couldn't," you reply, without much conviction. You, Gale, and Katniss have discussed such a possibility many times, but it was clear that could never happen. Your families could never survive in the woods like the three of you. "And it's too late now. But don't write me off yet. I'm coming home."

"I have faith," he says, releasing you almost reluctantly and turning towards the door. Your time is almost up and he would never allow himself to be shoved out of the door by a peacekeeper. He has too much pride for that. "I'll be watching you, Y/n/n. Stay safe."

You only look away from him when the door slams shut for the last time. You promised many people that you will come back to District 12 a victor, safe and sound. With any luck, you can keep them.           

Sorry this is kind of short. And that this is my first note even though my first chapter was up a while ago. I've been busy lately but this just felt like the right time to write a new chapter.

So I hoped you liked this latest update. Feel free to rate and comment—and give me some ideas on how you think this should go. I literally have close to zero ideas for where this story is going to go.

(Original Note, Chapter Revised May 5th, 2020)