Chapter One

District four was a privileged district. Corey knew that. It was one of the few districts that had the Capitol's favour, those few being districts one, two, and four. District three was pretty much forgotten about by everyone.

Corey knew that some of the further districts- like twelve- weren't even allowed to hold weapons, let alone hunt for their own food. Personally, Corey had no idea what the Capital was thinking. God knows they didn't supply enough food on their monthly shipments to feed the whole district. What was the point of going through all the work in the first place if you were going to let the people starve?

Even the people in four were allowed to catch their own fish- with permits, mind you. Not that Corey did much of that, anyways. His father was a Peacekeeper, and their family was well-enough off that Corey, despite living in district four his whole life, had never even held a fishing rod, or used a spear.

In fact, he didn't really do much. His family was big, and they needed someone to take care of the little kids. Corey and his twin, Korral, were in the middle of the pack at nearly seventeen. Waverly was twenty-two but she moved out a few years ago to live with her partner, and cut ties with the family.

The oldest, Sanders, had left as soon as he turned eighteen to join the Capitol militia, and Corey had never really met him. He sent letters every now and then, so he was still alive, but he still felt like a stranger to Corey.

Most people felt like strangers to Corey. He hardly left the house anymore. It wasn't because of anti socialism, (although that might have been an influencing factor) but like he said, someone had to look after the two youngest, baby Nadia and Shelby, who was only six.

Korral still went to school, she was in her last year of secondary school, where Corey would be if he had stayed in school. He had dropped out when he was nine, when he realised that if he didn't start taking care of the family, no one would and they wouldn't have meals. It was easier to justify when his dad remarried and had two new kids with a woman who detested children, leaving the infants in the care of a then-eleven year old boy.

His sister had wanted to stay home too, and help, but Corey had insisted she continue her education. She had a plan. She wanted to join up, just like Sanders had, and Corey knew she would flourish in the militia. She was built for it, muscled and tough. And Corey had no idea what he was going to do with his life.

Certainly not stand over a hot stove in his tiny kitchen, a baby strapped to his back, frying potatoes and trying to help Shelby with their math. That surely couldn't be all he was good for, right? There must be something else he could do with his life, anything else.

It wasn't that he hated his siblings, he loved them all to bits, it was just that he was tired. He shouldn't have to be a parent! His father was too absorbed in whiskey and parties to even bother with his children. He was dating a new face, now, one Corey had never met but already didn't like.

And the cherry on top of his little sob story was Korral. She and Corey used to be attached at the hip, practically. They had been inseparable, had done everything together. Until Corey stopped going to school. For the first year he didn't go, Korral would come home with tears in her eyes, crying that she'd missed him. But now, she was spending more and more time away, later and later each night, with 'friends'.

Corey had never been able to keep secrets from his sister, and she had never been able to keep any from him. Yet she was still hiding what she was really doing. She came home late and left early, barely spoke a word to Corey in the moments she was actually around him.

He hated to admit it, but it was possible they were just growing apart. He didn't want to push Korral to talk or share something with him that she clearly didn't want to do. It just hurt that she was trying to distance herself. He knew it would happen sooner or later, with her leaving for the Capitol as soon as she turned eighteen, leaving Corey behind with a broken family. He just hoped that he would still be able to spend the last year before that happened being just as close as they used to be.

It wasn't like Corey could do anything about it, though. He was stuck here, indefinitely. He would be here for as long as his father kept having children, and maybe that was all he would ever do, is cook and clean and help with homework. He was more of a father than their real dad had ever been, and if only one good thing came of it, then at least maybe these kids would grow up happier than he and his older siblings had.

-

No one really slept well the night before Reaping. Corey and his sister were facing their second last reaping, and it would still be at least six years before Shelby's first reaping. Corey and his sister had never put their name in extra, they didn't need to. That didn't mean they weren't worried. Hardly anyone in district four ever had to, as opposed to some other districts, where some kids might have their name in seventeen times.

Corey was up late, as he usually was on these nights, stress-baking. He was making sweet biscuits, something his mother used to make with him and Korral when they were young, before she died. His father was passed out in his room after coming home stinking of whiskey, drunker than Corey had ever seen him, and absolutely furious about something or other. He had burst through the door, swinging and swearing, and managed to catch Corey across the face with the broken top of the bottle he was clutching, and now a neat slice decorated his right cheekbone. Usually, Corey could dodge the swings.

He was up late because he knew that Shelby often had nightmares about the Games, and they were inconsolable for hours. And if Corey slept, he was plagued by his own nightmares.

He was taking out another batch of biscuits out of the wood stove when Korral snuck in, closing the door softly behind her. She jumped when she saw Corey still in the kitchen, setting the hot pan on the counter. (It was dark because their father had forgotten to pay their power bill again.) Corey didn't acknowledge her much since he assumed she would just walk past him and close the door to her- to their room, disappearing long before Corey awoke, if he even got any sleep.

"Are you making sweet biscuits?" She asked instead, voice soft. Corey nodded, never really one for much talk. She took one from the pan, tossing it from hand to hand as it cooled. "What are you doing up so late?" She whispered, biting into the dough.

Corey shrugged. "Shelby sometimes gets nightmares. I like to keep watch, just in case." He lent against the table, taking a biscuit from the cooled stack. This was the most he had spoken to his twin in...well, days.

Korral hummed, squinting at her brother. "Why are you bleeding?" Corey touched his cheek, wiping away the beading blood. He shrugged. "Accident." Korral didn't believe him. He could see it in her eyes. But she had secrets of her own, and so she would let him keep his.

"Are you nervous? For tomorrow?" She finally asked, taking another biscuit.

"No," Corey said. "My name's only in six times. Are you?" They both knew that even if Korral's name was drawn, she would probably win the games. She was pretty and charismatic, and would have no trouble getting allies and sponsors. She would do fine.

"No." Korral took another biscuit, not eating it, just turning it over in her hands. Corey put another pan in the oven. "I'm sorry," Korral said suddenly.

Corey raised an eyebrow. "What for?" He muttered, dusting his hands off on a towel.

"For leaving you on your own. To deal with the littles, and...dad." Corey blinked. He assumed his sister knew he was fully capable of dealing with it all, since she had been the one who let him take it all on.

"It's alright. I don't mind. You're the one who knows what they're going to do with their life, not me." He gave a tired smile, packing the cooled biscuits into containers to store in their coldbox. Korral sighed, like she knew it wasn't really okay, because they had a knack for knowing these kinds of things about each other. But she also knew that he wouldn't want to talk about it; he never really did and so she didn't make him, instead watching his slim figure as he checked on the latest batch of buns.

Corey didn't say anything. Korral didn't say anything. Even though there was so much they both wanted to talk about.

-

Reaping day was the only day that Corey knew his dad wouldn't get drunk at all. All the Peacekeepers were on high alert during the ceremony, as there was known to be protesters. Nadia and Shelby were standing in the crowd of spectators, Nadia cradled in Shelby's arms just like Corey had taught his sibling, both of them standing next to Waverly and her wife, the only time the woman acknowledged her half-sibling's existence.

Corey was grouped with the other seventeen year olds, despite his birthday still being a week away. He supposed the only thing that mattered was that he would be seventeen by the time the Games actually started. He was dressed in his best clothes, his hair brushed and somewhat tamed. He kept his eyes fixed ahead.

On the stage, the Mayor sat to one side, with her husband and son, and the previous victors on the other side. Finnick Odair, Annie, and Mags. (He didn't know the girls' last names. He wasn't sure anyone really did.) They were legends in the district. Hell, Finnick was legendary even in the Capitol. The escort was standing in the centre of the stage, wearing a bright blue silk suit that went well with his dark chocolate skin and matched his eyes.

The man grinned out at the crowd, too enthusiastic for what was to come. "Welcome, everyone, to the seventy-fourth annual Hunger Games Reaping ceremony!" He announced it like it was some big celebration, like the Blood Moon Festival or something.

Corey zoned out during the mayor's big speech about how the Hunger Games came to be, and how they exist as 'repentance for sins against the Capitol' and all the regular propaganda he could recite in his sleep.

Then came time for the Reaping, and Corey straightened his back. Their escort (who Corey thought might be named Dashel? Shadel?) walked over to the blue bowl first, sticking his hand in and swirling it around dramatically. Corey knew lots of other districts picked the female tribute first, but not here. He pulled a slip out and walked back to the microphone, unfolding it slowly. He cleared his throat and read out the name that was written.

"Corey Verr."

Oh shit.