No Prize to be Won [Luke]

Another reaping had come and gone, and another year I had been forced to wait in the shadows just like every other common district one male. While I don’t suppose there was a reason to want it so badly—after all, it forced me to think about what I truly wanted to do with my life now that my reaping days were numbered—every time my name wasn’t called, there was a little bit of sadness in me. I could only hope that this year we would be represented by the best of our district, like the year before, and not some sloppy miscreant that barely knew how to carry a blade. There was no reason that district one should ever lose, anyway. We just had so much that the others didn’t, it just doesn’t make sense to me.

Not getting picked also meant that I was to attend a function with my mother and father that evening to celebrate the games. My brother and sister were so lucky with their lives. My brother traded wealth to become even wealthier than he already was. He had a beautiful wife, an expensive home, and was almost never bothered with the ridiculous charade of socialite life like my parents were. He was simply too busy to give platitudes to the rest of these phonies, these back-stabbing men and women (who would sooner skin you alive if it gave them what they wanted). I admired too that he had found something that took him away from all this, and made him happy.

My sister was also too important to be bothered by this gala. While my mother feuded with Ali over her presence, she reminded her that being a partner and dealing with laws and rules at her firm meant long hours and sleepless nights. It meant mixing with the men and women with true power to affect change, rather than those who contributed to the latest cause and pocketed most of the efforts. I always rolled my eyes when we were going to something that raised money for somewhere. Whether it was the hungry children of district twelve or some natural disaster, these families dressed in bedazzled tuxes and dresses did not seem to be presenting themselves as people who truly cared. And their conversations usually went along the lines of:

“It’s quite sad what you hear about those poor little earthquake victims.”
“Oh yes, quite.”

I couldn’t remember where we’d met the Morgans before, but their estate seemed to be one of the most obnoxious, over-the-top homes in the district. They always had some kind of spectacular event every year commemorating the drawing of the names. I knew that they had a son and daughter, but our paths crossing was more along the lines of two ships in the night than anything else. And the people at the parties were such a dreadful bore. I tried hard not to pout too much that yet again we were helping some cause by eating expensive foods and drinking expensive drinks and I would be surrounded by the exact people I loathed.

My parents always claimed that they did this for me. That all of this, this grandstanding and showboating was for us to show the others in the district, and the capitol, that our family was dignified and strong. They wanted to show the world that we were the elite, the brightest, strongest, and best. They wanted so desperately to be seen as part of the capitol, as merely an extension stuck in district one that it clouded them from the best bits of reality. They never really enjoyed themselves, and made these events feel like such a chore. But I knew better than to make waves. Instead, I could play the part of the dutiful son for some time and then slip away.

It was not long into the party that I made my way through the hall and scrambled away from their clutches. I was dressed in a light blue tux so it wasn’t as though I could stand around without standing out, and I figured the best way to get some peace was to find a bedroom in which I could sidle away. The long staircase and the ornate rooms upstairs were impressive, though I couldn’t say that my family did much worse than this. I tried hard not to judge them for their choices, though I loved sleek simplicity over anything else. There was no need to destroy simple beauty for something complex.

And so I made my way into a bedroom that was empty. I thought that perhaps I would go unnoticed—after all, who needed to use a bedroom while the party went on downstairs—and stared at the various knick-knacks and then to the French doors along the wall. There was a balcony that looked out on the city that seemed perfect. I pushed through the doors quietly and made my way out onto the stone. I stared at the clear sky, full of stars, and placed my hands on the railing.

This was pleasant, much better than having to talk to anyone downstairs. I loved the chill of the air and the brightness of the moon. I stared out at the city and grinned. Soon the tributes, if they hadn’t already, would be heading to the capitol and disappearing from all this. I placed my elbows along the railing and rested my head in my hands. It was nice to have some time to think of myself rather than about someone else. I wondered what would be my passion—if I was not called to being part of the games, soon—that would let me escape as my brother and sister had. I just wanted to enjoy the district, and to enjoy my time here.

Life, of course, has a way of interrupting our thoughts. I heard a young man’s voice and turned to see who I believed to be the owner of the bedroom. He was already half-undressed (and not bad to look at, mind you), when I threw up my hands and shrugged my shoulders with a laugh. I hope he doesn’t think I was trying to take anything of his.

“You caught me! You must be one of the Morgans, right?” I say as I lay my back against the railing. While I was slightly embarrassed to be caught, I didn’t think it was that big of a deal. And I always seemed to be able to talk my way out of these sorts of situations. “Tell me you’ve come to escape the nonsense downstairs? I’m Rhen Rutherford, by the way. Lovely room, you know. And this balcony!” I crumpled my fingers together and made a kissing motion. “Magnifique! Really one of the best views of the city, you must be very happy.”

The way Jem moved onto the balcony made me feel like I was facing an angry animal who’s den had been threatened. I mean, I guess I would have been pissed to if someone had thought it was all right to go into my room as well, but with the size of his house, it couldn’t be all that unusual that people got lost and didn’t know their way around. And his room really did have one of the best views of the city that I had ever seen. It was a shame that something like this might be wasted on someone as rude and arrogant as the boy in front of me. Still, I wasn’t the type to back down just because someone was trying to assert his authority.

“Who you are? Oh, I think I’ve heard you mentioned from time to time. You know, I can’t keep up with all of these socialite types, it’s all just so tedious, don’t you think? I mean all these people with loads of money and influence, and they all kiss each other’s butts.” I smile as I continue to lean back against the balcony. I knew that I could speak to him this way, for after all, he was my age, and as much advantage as he might have socially there was no witness to chide me for my comments. And who the h—l cared what this don’t you know who I am type thought? “But of course, it is so rude of me to be out here on your balcony, forgive me, I didn’t mean to insult the hosts of this party.”

I bend over in a slight bow, looking down at his feet, before staring back up at this boy again. His face was sweet, and despite all the hunger for a fight I sensed in him something different. I adjusted my bowtie and stood once again. No, this boy hungered for something else as well it seemed. Not that it wasn’t obvious that someone wouldn’t be attracted to me. I mean, I have a certain charm that makes me irresistible. Oh come on, you don’t think I’m that shallow do you? Still, I had a tendency of assuming it more often than not. And more often than not I had been right about my targets.

You’d never catch me out in public with another boy. No, that was something that was to be behind closed doors. Not in polite company, anyway. That stuff was something that high society couldn’t abide seeing out in the open. And I was fine with that. After all, why should I ever show anyone else my business that didn’t need to know? I had enough trouble getting around these airheads as it was. I didn’t need layers upon layers to make my life more complicated.

“Now, Jem, I happen to think that some people might actually really appreciate what you have here. I mean, just look for a second,” I say turning around and looking out at the view while waving an arm. “You can see every inch of the district from here. And a lot of people don’t even get around to seeing all of this in their lifetimes. They shut themselves up in their little hovels or in mansions so big that you need a map to get around. I mean honestly, how do you get around, did you memorize where everything is? Oh don’t answer that, I’m only joking…”

I take a few steps toward him and hold my hands up in surrender. “Now if you don’t want me up here that’s fine, but I just thought I could spend a few minutes away from all the gasbags downstairs, my parents included in that. If you let me stay, I promise it’ll be worth your while,” I say jokingly with a wink. He could toss me out for all I cared, but I wasn’t about to head back down there if I could help it. And maybe he might even prove interesting company. Things had a way of working out for me, I didn’t see why this couldn’t. “What do you say?”

This kid was totally irrational. I thought this might go south rather quickly, but I didn’t quite expect him to explode so quickly. I guess I might have rubbed him the wrong way—not that this was my fault—and perhaps it was unfair of me to think he might be able to grasp the way that I talked about things. This was Jem Morgan, the son of -and-so, the fearsome warrior of ho-hum, la-di-da, la-di-da. Here it went again, another presentation of how great one of them was. Another peacocking moment of a boy that thought he could break me down with words. No, words couldn’t hurt me much. Not when I usually used them as effectively as a weapon.

“Forgive me, forgive me, oh, you’ve hurt me so badly, oh, oh I think I’m dying at the witty repartee of Jem the fabulous, someone, someone help me!” I say with a laugh. That’s all I can do really at his insults that are directed at how I look. I’ve spent my whole life devoted to perfecting my body, it’s not like there’s anything wrong with it. While for a moment I glance down at my stomach, I can’t take much heed in what he has to say. This boy was obviously just annoyed that I had interrupted whatever activity he had planned on doing on the balcony—why was he getting undressed, anyway? There was nothing to fear from a hothead. Instead, I was going to have a little bit of fun with him.

“You know, I don’t think being a socialite is so bad when you own it, Jem. It’s okay that you like sipping champagne and twirling around without a thought in your head. My parents do it all the time. I know the vacant looks, the stares that make them look like they’re interested but there’s nothing going on up there,” I say, looking over and into his eyes. I grin as I open my own eyes wide. “It’s all about where the next thrill is, right? The next one-up on the ladder? Well, I’m so sorry to tell you this, but I don’t much care for who your family is. Oh now don’t look at me like that, don’t act like you can’t stand me because I’m telling you the honest truth!”

I stick my tongue out at him and slide back against the balcony. I wasn’t sure how far I could push this without him throwing a fist, but I bet his constitution would let me get a little bit further. And there was nothing more that I loved than pushing limits. Whether it was physical or mental, I loved pushing myself to see just how far I could go. The best results came from when you reached exhaustion, so why wouldn’t it be the same in most other situations. I tapped my fingers along the stone of the railings and raise my eyebrows.

“That’s what’s most upsetting right? When someone doesn’t recognize what you’ve worked hard at creating… a nice little name for yourself. So go ahead and shine, Jem, go ahead. That’s what you want?” I stare over my shoulder at the city below. They were all so boring. There wasn’t one among them that thought any differently, it seemed. Here I was, in this tiny circle, all alone. If only I my brother or sister were here, at the very least I could joke with the two of them about the senselessness of it all. They could at least give me the benefit of the doubt that maybe this life was a little less fulfilling than many thought it was.

“I have you pegged, I think, Jem. You see, not knowing who you are is not a sin. And forgive me if I’ve forgotten my manners, but I would think a good host wouldn’t insult his guest.” I smirk at this as I drum my fingers along the railing again. “You see, I’m pretty sure I’m not unhandsome, don’t you think? You wouldn’t be so mean as to say that. No, don’t worry, I don’t mind that you might not have anything else to talk about than what you’ve been programmed to.”

I hiss this last part out as I place my elbow on the railing and my head on my palm. “It’s all so boring, really? I mean, isn’t it just dull, Jem?” I hadn’t wanted to pick a fight with him, but he was just such an easy target. And when it came down to it, this was much better sport than standing around talking to the people down below.

I couldn’t help but grin as I watched Jem. I knew that I’d gotten under his skin, and this was a little victory for me. I loved when I was able to muck up these types, the ones that were so set upon fame and glory, and make them have to think once and a while. I wondered if he would be able to say anything after the blows I’d managed to land. I’d tussled a few times (if that wasn’t obvious) when it came to such verbal assaults, and was proud of landing knock out blows. This little spat was enough for me to think that it hadn’t been so bad to come to this party after all.

And yet it seemed as though Jem wasn’t done with me. He opened his mouth, and I could feel that perhaps I had underestimated him. He spoke of something I couldn’t defend: with all of the shade I threw upon the life of socialite, I had nothing to show for my efforts. Unlike my brother or sister, I didn’t have my own life to live as of yet. Instead, I was doing what all of the other careers had done, which was use training as an excuse for something to have in my life. I was not much better than the rest of them, if one put some thought into it. I cleared my throat and rolled my eyes at his analysis. Me? I was the failure? I think not.

“I don’t happen to see that you’ve gotten much farther than me, Jem. You can think it all you like that you’re the talk of the town because you’ve got a rolodex of back-stabbers, but really, what have you earned? What has your glad handing got you? I see you still have to fawn over them every week, just like everyone else.” I sneer a little bit as I cross my arms across my chest. “I may not have your contacts or the fortitude for kissing all of the a— that you do, but at least I depend on myself. At least I know who I am. Can you say that about yourself, Jem?”

I tug at my bowtie and strip it from my neck. I hated having to dress up for these stupid events. I hated the fact that I had to dignify this jerk with an explanation of who I was. He didn’t have any right to say such things about me, and he wasn’t going anywhere, was he? No, he was just another district one rich boy that was headed toward a fall. He could talk about having everything, but deep down, there was nothing of his anyone else would want.

“Yeah, you’re going places all right. You see though, none of those are places that I would want to go.” I say haughtily and shift on my feet. Maybe he has pricked a nerve with me, but I try not to show that to him so much. Well. At least he wasn’t being dull like before. “And I happen to like my nose. I happen to like who I am. I suspect you would be more comfortable if you liked who you were, too, Jem. I mean, you’re not unhandsome. Surely you know what looks good. And I know that I’m not unhandsome, so I know what looks good as well.”

Confusion was the best line of attack. It was the best way to destroy the advantage that he had. And it wasn’t as if I was lying. “You can have your glory, Jem. I think I’ll keep my peace of mind.”