Chris and Ryoko are two of the aforementioned doctors. Although they are meant to spend most of their time treating the sick and injured, there isn’t too much of it in District 1. The most they usually have to deal with is a strange rash, or a broken toenail. So most of the time, they actually spend in the gym, or out in the fields weapon training. Chris and Ryoko had been friends since childhood, their families were close, and both had pushed them to be doctors from an early age.
Chris had wanted to be involved in The Hunger Games for years. He believed a lot in the power of his district, and although he would cheer the District 1 tribute on in the previous games, he had always wished it would be him. He knew the draw for the tributes was at midday sharp in the city square, he knew that if he was picked this year, this was the last time to get in some field training.
The sun had barely risen over the horizon and Chris had set up his wooden target in the field and was already pacing back to his bow and arrow. He picked up his bow, loaded an arrow and pulled the string back in preparation to shoot. As he drew back, so did his shirt sleeve, revealing the tattoo he had on his forearm. “We never truly die”. Chris wanted to be in The Hunger Games for the glory, and to go down in history, not for the money… He already had enough of that.
“You’re up early” came a shout from behind him, causing his arrow to fly away from the target.
“God dammit Ryoko!” Chris span round angrily “You put me off!”
A beautiful girl in her mid twenties with shoulder length brown hair and fair skin was walking towards him.
“What if someone shouts at you whilst you’re in The Hunger Games? You going to tell them off for distracting you?” She smirked, crossing her arms.
“Pshh… Whatever” Chris said, turning back to load up another arrow.
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Luis Sera looked at his watch. 10am. 2 hours until Draw Day. He hoped he wouldn’t be picked. He had a business to run. He couldn’t possibly leave it to his assistant. The place would be in ruins. If he did get picked, he thought, he would have to win it within 12 hours. Kill everyone as quickly as possible, then he could get back to work. Yes, he thought, I can do that.
“You look lost in thought sir” came a voice from his office door.
It was his assistant, Tyder. Tyder was much younger than Luis, in his early thirties, and although passionate about the company, didn’t have the initiative or intelligence to run it if Luis was selected.
“Just thinking about the draw today” Luis responded in a truthful manner, tapping his fingers on his desk.
“Don’t worry sir!” Tyder piped up with a beaming smile. “If you get picked, I can quite happily run the company in your stead!”
Luis forced a smile back, but all the time was thinking ‘well actually Tyder, I hope you ****ing get picked.”
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District 1 also had its fair share of musical stars. Most lived in the capital, but those who rebelled, or just weren’t that popular anymore, were shifted to District 1. Hobo was one of those music stars, or a rapper to be more precise.
Hobo wanted to be in the games this year for many reasons. The main one was publicity. In the interviews beforehand, he could really sell his music to the people, maybe do a bit of rapping, get his name back out there. He wasn’t too worried either about the competition itself. Like most people in the district, he held a lot of pride in their record in The Games, and made sure he was fit and ready if the time ever came.
As he made his way to the square for the drawing of the names, Hobo looked around him as hundreds more were doing the same thing.
“Please let it be me this year…” He muttered under his breath.
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