Chapter 3
The Layton District, more commonly known as District 2, contain some of the greatest minds in Contestia. Although not as well off as the bigwigs of District 1, the civilians of District 2 knew that as a whole, they were intellectually better off. Architects, scientists, researchers, amongst other highly regarded professionals were abundant in District 2.
Most of the newer buildings within District 1 were actually designed by members of District 2, which annoyed 1ers to no end, and some were even reluctant to live or work in said buildings. District pride is quite something.
Crimson Ocean was one of those architects involved in designing the new hospital within District 1. Today was just another day of work to her. As she took a sip from her morning coffee, and looked down at her rough designs for a new park within her area, she tried to push the fact that it was Draw Day to the back of her mind. She ran her delicate fingers through her long red hair and sighed.
Crimson knew the ongoing rivalry and dislike between District 1 and 2 was at its highest during The Hunger Games, and some of those in the area truly relished the competition, always looking to get one up on the Phoenix District, and although she always cheered on the tributes from her own District, she wondered that if she ever did get chosen… Could she handle the responsibility?
One man that knew he could handle the responsibility was Deadpool. By 8am he had already been running on the treadmill for an hour, making sure that he could be as fit as he could be in case he was chosen today. Deadpool’s brother had died in The Games two years ago, by a District 1er, and Deadpool had vowed to get his revenge one day. His day job was a Professor at the local university, teaching physics. He never socialised after work, more interested in going to the gym and remaning fit and lean, just in case.
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“So its that day again eh Stan?” asked a man with dark hair, which fell gracefully over one eye.
“That it is Regaro… That it is.” Answered Stan, a balding man in his mid 30s. He studied the test tube sample in front of him, and wrote an assortment of letters and numbers on the side of it, ones which only he and his colleagues understood.
“Guess that cure for cancer will have to wait for a day” Regaro chuckled.
“Well if one of us gets chosen and wins, we’ll have more than enough money to carry on our research for years.” Stan said positively.
“True… But would you not just take the high life in the Capital City if you won?!” Regaro asked.
“I dunno, probably not, I love this place… We do alright.” Stan replied.
“District pride and all that” Regaro laughed again.
“Precisely.” Stan smiled.
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Semi looked at his watch. 10:30am. An hour and a half until the draw. He was in two minds about being chosen. He didn’t deny that he was ready, but he doubted whether he could kill if it came down to it.
Semi was a professional writer, and had created many influential novels, and mainly kept himself to himself. No-one ever really knew the man behind the words. He wrote the official story of the first ever Hunger Games as he watched it on the big screens, documenting Duke Nukems famous win. The book sell hundreds of thousands and was a huge hit, but many of his fellow District 2 citizens shafted him from social events as he had documented a District 1 winner.
Since then Semi had slowly gained back his reputation within his own district. He felt that if he got selected, he could truly win back their hearts by winning The Games, and then all would be forgiven… He just had to survive… Maybe kill a few people, if he could bring himself to do it.
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