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Chapter 10: The Lucky Rogue

Kil Brooke, age 18 (D5 Male)

More Cassanova than Cassanova (Chrysler)

Am I the luckiest guy ever or what? I mean, sure being born in District Five ain't the luckiest what with the Games and the poverty and the like, but I make it work. I've found a cushy job that doesn't require much knowledge about circuits or power or such, which for District Five is an achievement, even if the salary it pays is rock bottom.

And guess who gets free meals at the best cafe in District Five. No one but the Brookster.

Well OK it's not a proper cafe, more just a bakers with uncomfortable plastic tables and chairs outside, but it's still the best in the District. And it serves coffee! I mean come on man coffee! Where else, other than maybe District One, is a guy gonna get proper coffee!

Some days I just like to sit here for hours and watch the world go by, but not today. Today I'm not interested in the cafe, even if it does have coffee, I'm here for the house next door, or to be more specific the very special lady who lives in that house.

Her name is Bianca Mave. She's my girl, she's on her own and it's Reapings day. She needs me to be there for her.

"Come on baby!" I rap on her window for what must be the fifth time, "I've been out here twenty minutes! You coming out or what?"

There's no response. A less attentive boyfriend would assume Bianca were asleep, which is probably what she wants me to think. She's not of course, she's always been an early riser and Jorge isn't the type of kid to let her sleep in. She's gotta be awake by now and I know she's listening.

"B' I know you're awake! Just get up already!"

Silence.

"Come on, how am I supposed to spend the day if my girl ain't with me? You know I don't wanna spend Reaping day alone! It'll make me look like a right loner!"

The silence continues.

"Okay that's it, I'm gonna sit out here 'til you answer me!"

Still nothing.

"I mean it," I cross my arms pointedly, just in case she's watching me through the curtains, "I ain't going!"

From the depths of her room I hear a familiar groan.

"You really are that crazy aren't you?" Bianca says in a hoarse whisper.

"You know it!"

"And you think the 'Keepers are going to let you just sit the Games out?"

"You think they're gonna let you sleep through 'em? Scratch that, d'ya think Jorge's gonna let ya? You should have fed him and burped him by now! I mean come on, I'm gonna sit around and wait for you but he ain't!"

"Ugh," I smile victoriously as my bleary eyed beauty appears at the window and leans down, "Just pass me up something yeah."

"Mocha good?"

"Bit expensive, just pass me a regular coffee."

"You got it, oh lustrous one!" I wink, reaching up and handing her a small styrofoam cup.

"Thanks, oh lustrous moron," B' replies, mimicking my own hamminess, "Seriously, what got you so wordy this morning? Found a dictionary."

"Nah, thesaurus, thought I'd need to get good at speaking since I'm, y'know, gonna be teaching Jorgey how to pretty soon and I don't want my kid growing up a dumbass. Anyway, what do you think of the new look?" I spread my arms theatrically, "Been growing the beard forever. I'm going for the whole hot dad slash cool uncle look."

Bianca looks me up and down, taking in the tight vest and even tighter jeans that (barely) cover my rippling muscles, and inspects my new ponytail and soul patch combo.

"Could have fooled me," she smirks, "It looks more like pirate too far from the sea."

"You know that's what Bae' and Em' said," I chuckle relieved that she seems normal, "Pair keep asking me when they're shipping me back to Four."

She laughs and I am suddenly hit by a wave of unease.

When you've been dating a girl for as long as I have you start to spot clues that key you in to how she's feeling. Some people say it's the way they kiss, or how they walk, a friend of mine, Leo Hunter, even swears he can tell how his girlfriend is feeling by the way she sneezes.

For me though, it's always been her laugh. Bianca has a beautiful trill of a laugh, real melodic and full of emotion.

And right now that emotion is nervousness, with a slight tinge of despair.

"What's wrong?" I ask, raising my coffee to my lips and taking a sip.

She stops and stares at me quizzically, "What do you mean?"

"Your laughing weird," I reply, "And you're doing the thing."

"I'm not," she shakes her head.

"You are."

She looks down at her coffee which, rather than drinking straight away like she normally does, she's been stirring with her finger. She winces, as if only now realising that coffee is kinda hot. In an attempt to hide her nervous tick she fumbles the cup and knocks it over. Liquid arcs towards me, splashing down my vest and turning the pristine white into a murky transparent and slightly steaming mess. Fortunately the drink is lukewarm at best. What? It's coffee at least, you want good coffee, you go to the Capitol.

Overall I don't think it's broken my luckiest guy ever award, wet t-shirts are way better than chest burns and I still kept a hold on my coffee so I'm counting it as a win.

"Oh God, sorry," Bianca bites her bottom lip sheepishly and leans out the window in attempt to reach me and dab of some of the coffee, but I hold up a hand and stop her.

"I'm good," I wink, "Got a spare in my pack. Just gotta change. Mind letting me in? We could talk."

"I dunno..."

"Well I could change out here." I tilt my head to a gaggle of girls sitting at a table opposite and let B's paranoia do the rest. I'm inside before I can say another word.

As soon as I'm in the tiny two room apartment where Bianca lives I tug my vest over my head and toss it on the bed, giving the lovely Ms Mave a quick kiss hello before getting down to business.

"Mind telling me what's got you all twitchy?" she opens her mouth to respond but I cut her off, "and don't go telling me you're fine 'cos you ain't."

"I've just... been thinking about things," she grimaces.

"Yeah I do that sometimes. Generally doesn't make me wanna risk sleeping in on Reapings. What you been thinking 'bout B'."

"I don't really want to talk about it."

I shrug, "Can't help if you don't say anything. Problem shared is a problem halved and all that."

"Well I was," she pulls a face and looks away before whispering, "Thinking about Chris."

My face falls. "Ah."

Chris is, err was, B's big brother, a mammoth of a guy ten years older than me and seven years older than B'. I don't remember much about him, not even what he looked like, but what I do remember is he was always there for us if we needed something. Life was simple when we were eight, but life was good and we wanted for nothing. Even the Games didn't bother us, they were an evil we weren't old enough to understand and only knew because of how much our parents hated them. We were protected from it all.

Until they took Chris.

Bianca has, err, had a few issues shall we say, since he died. Angry issues. Chris was her world, her idol and watching him die in the Bloodbath must have been a waking nightmare. For a while after she wouldn't talk to anyone, she just barricaded herself in her room and didn't come out for days on end. Smashed a bunch of stuff too I hear. Her parents bought her food, but I don't know if she ever ate it and I don't think she let them come in.

I still remember the night she let me in through the window. I think I might have been the first person she opened up to.

I don't know why she thought I was special enough to be let in when no one else was, whether it was something I said, or she thought I was a cute kid, or if it was because I idolised Chris almost as much as she did, or if she just needed someone and I was there at the right time.

I just sat on Chris' old bed that night with Bianca holding me, wrapped in her brother's baggy old vest. The two of us cried until the tears ran out and our throats and eyes were sore, but it made things better. It was like being sad together somehow made us happier and so I started coming back most nights, because kids are stupid like that and so are emotions and it just felt right. Before I knew it I was twelve and we were dating on and off in a relationship born out of mutual grief and a want to support one another and the rest, as they say, is history.

In the other room Jorge stirs, which B' takes as an excuse to leave. She doesn't get far, since the apartment's only two rooms, and I find her standing over Jorge's crib and holding the boy to her chest, tears streaming down her face. I let her cry for a few minutes and then, wiping my own fledgling tears on my vest before she can notice them, step over to her and pull her into a tight hug.

"I'm sorry," she chokes out her words, "I-I should just accept this is how things are and move on but... I'm being such a-a selfish idiot and..."

"You're not being selfish," I smile, "I miss him, we all do. But it's been ten years B', and you're not even eligible for the Games anymore. You need to move on."

"I think about him all the time."

"So do I," I feel my voice crack, but I swallow it, "So do I B'."

"But it's not just that," she sniffs, "Chris was eighteen when he got Reaped and what if... what if..." She can't finish, but she doesn't have to, I know what she's going to say.

'What if you get Reaped this year?'

"I'm not going anywhere B'," I tell her, "Come on, you know I'd never leave you and Jorgey like that."

"You won't have any choice," she whispers, "If they Reap you-"

"I'll kill 'em. Seriously B', you're talking to Captain Lucky here. There's no way I'll get Reaped and, hell, even if I do I ain't letting them take me. I'd rather die."

"You might."

I stare down in to her sorrowful eyes and feel my own eyes prickle.

"I promise you," I try to make sure I sound confident as I speak, "I ain't gonna get Reaped, and I'm gonna stick around, in the land of the living, for you and Jorge for however long you need or until I forget your next birthday."

Bianca looks up at me and then down at Jorge, who grips my finger in his pudgy little hand and squeezes it, burbling contentedly. A sliver of a smile appears on her face and she wipes her eyes with one hand.

"You promise?" I nod and she sighs. "Well fine, but if you get Reaped you're on diaper duty for the next millennium and a half mister."

"I can live with that. Replacement coffee?"

"Replacement coffee," she nods, passing Jorge over to me and opening the door, stepping outside to the cafe.

I notice a couple of irritating things as I step after her into the quiet streets. The first is that the wind has picked up and is blowing the more unsavory power plant fumes into my face, the second a trio of Peacekeepers who have taken a table adjacent to ours while I was talking to Bianca. Their eyes glint as they spy for even the faintest whiff of rebellion.

I ignore both of these, can't have them ruining a nice day out with my GF and my boy. Instead I focus my attention on Jorge, who is starting to slip a little. He might be upside down too. I haven't quite got the knack of holding babies yet.

A lot of people say that babies are ugly and well, they're right. Babies are smelly, noisy, bulbous headed poop monsters that never give you a moment of rest.

All except my boy that is. Jorge is like bizarro baby, the kind of baby that even a guy like me counts themselves as blessed to get. He's very contented, barely ever cries, doesn't bite, still poops a lot but hey he's only human. He's got just the right mix of looks to make him the handsomest kid ever, her skin and eyes and teeth and nose and face and lips and my hair, which is starting to grow at the top of his head in a little clump. When he laughs it's like listening to a choir of angels sing as they descend from heaven and when he cries its like listening to a choir of angels wail as broken glass pierces your ears, but at least he don't cry much.

And B's worried I'll be going to the Games? Ha! Fat chance I'd let them take a sweet life like this away from me.

We sit in silence for a while as we wait for B's new coffee to arrive and to pass the time I play, or rather attempt to play, pattycake with Jorge. He isn't much good at it, probably because he's too young to really know how to play, and my inexperience doesn't help much. I haven't played pattycake with anyone since my little sis was like five, and she's seventeen now, so I'm a bit rusty to say the least.

Finally the coffee comes and I'm able to finish the torturous game and turn my attention to Bianca, who is laughing in that special way that lets me know she's actually happy and not just pretending.

"Ah c'mon B'," I grin, placing Jorge on my lap and bouncing him, "I'm not that bad."

"No no," Bianca shakes her head, "Well OK yeah you are, but that's not why I'm laughing. It's just good to see my two boys doing something together."

I wince, feeling a pang of guilt at her words. While I'm sure she didn't mean anything by it, I'm well aware that I haven't exactly been super dad. You can't really blame me for being scared I guess, I mean after all I was seventeen when I first found out that my girlfriend was having a kid and neither of our parents were particularly pleased. Heck Bianca had to move. I helped her find this place, which Turing, the guy in charge of the cafe let her have for free in honour of us being his best customers, but I didn't ask if she wanted to stay with me. God, it's a wonder she's stuck with me at all.

Even now that I'm trying to be a father I'm still a little incompetent and I still haven't got the money for that place that B' wants to live, but I don't think B' minds. Honestly I just think she's happy I'm here. I'm happy too, but it'll be a long time before I can forgive myself for being such a cowardly waste of space early on.

Over the table from me Bianca finishes her coffee and stands to her feet, turning towards the clock tower and checking the time.

It's ten minutes to the Reapings. She steels herself and turns the other way as the Peacekeepers rise and start escorting, by which I mean dragging, people towards the exits.

"Do you think you could walk down with me," she asks, "Just in case."

I nod and stand, wrapping my hand around hers and using my other arm to clumsily support Jorge and carry my backpack. She shakes her head at me and wraps her own free arm around Jorge, taking him before I drop him.

"Thanks," I grin sheepishly.

"No problem Cap'n," she grins, tugging my beard with one hand, "Now lead on, we're gonna be late."

The square is as gloomy as always when we get there, and getting to our places is made even more depressing than usual because it's Jorge's first year, meaning we need to get him registered.

"Jorg," the Peacekeeper mutters as we pass, "What kinda dumb name is Jorg anyway? Sounds like some sort of troll."

I bite my tongue. I ain't too happy about having my creative spelling of the name George criticised by the guy who's probably named Martellus or Flava or something flowery like that, but I know better than to argue back. I may have devil may care good looks and roguish charm but I don't have a gun, and that's about the only thing that could help me if I got into an argument with a Peacekeeper.

I feel kind of isolated once I've been allocated my place. I mean it's not like I don't have friends my age, Leo and Bael are right next to me and I'm within spitting distance of my sister Rhea and her friends, but the people I really want to be able to keep an eye on are behind me. I keep shooting glances back at Bianca, who looks slightly whiter than she was before we got here and is rocking Jorge backwards and forwards nervously. I want nothing more than to wrap my arms around her and keep reassuring her that everything will be all right. In District One I hear they sometimes let you do that, but unfortunately our escort's paranoid, so we have to follow the letter of the rules round here.

"District Five," I begrudgingly turn my attention away from my girl as Zumo, our stick thin escort, speaks her voice shakier than a leaf in a high wind, "Happy Hunger Games and may the odds be forever in your favour."

She's trying to smile but her attempt is slightly too large and strained, it's obvious she'd rather not be on stage.

I will never quite understand why Zumo became an escort, after all she clearly hates any form of human contact, or at least District kids. Personally I think she just took the job to watch us suffer but with Capitolites who knows? She could actually just be forced into doing it by the Games Makers because someone somewhere thinks Ms Zombie Stick Insect is hot.

"It seems like only yesterday since I was hear last looking out at all your smiling faces."

I chuckle slightly. I don't know where she thinks she is but no ones smiling in District Five. Even I'm not grinning and I'm like the smiliest guy I know.

"I'm so happy that the Games Makers allowed me to return here to this," she stalls, "District to let me escort the next generation of little celebrities." Zumo shudders as she finishes her sentence and goes on to inform us that our mentor this year will be Eddie Copper.

I take a quick look back at Bianca who has gone as white as a sheet and is clutching Jorge desperately. Eddie Copper is not her favorite victor. True she didn't win the year that Chris was entered, but she won the year after and, for B' and me, it was the greatest crime of all. That Chris, a loving young man who was at least as strong as Eddie and a billion times as dedicated could die in the Bloodbath but that whale of a woman could win was disgusting for both of us, and her continued bravado and cocky attitude has done little to shed B's hatred of her.

There's a brief silence, in which Zumo looks even more uncomfortable than usual, before diving into the first Reaping ball like a fish into a pond.

When she finally comes up for air she inspects the card and calls out the unlucky girl's name.

"Aria Willowson!"

There's a sound of something dropping to the floor and then, very slowly, a girl steps out of the sixteen's section. There are tears running down her cheeks and her entire body appears to be shaking as she forces her way up the step. I take a moment to inspect the girl, a pale, thin kid with frizzy brown hair and dark eyes, but I look away when she glances my way for a second. I don't want her thinking I'm oggling her. This must be uncomfortable enough already without feeling like everyone's gawking at you. Besides, Bianca would kill me.

Zumo takes a step away from Aria as she takes the stage, repulsed by her presence, before dipping her head into the next ball and gripping for a name.

Around me everyone holds their breath and fixes their eyes on the woman. I don't mean to brag, but I don't. Instead I stand there cool as a cucumber in winter, slouching slightly with one hand in my pocket and the other stroking my soul patch.

It's a bit of an act since I don't want B' worrying for me, but even considering that, I'm not as worried as everyone else.

I mean I'm not going to get Reaped. I'm way too lucky.

"Kil Brooke!"

No way.

I mean just... No way.

"Seriously?"

It can't be me, it's impossible. I mean, sure I took out a few tesserae to support B' that she doesn't know about but everyone has tesserae in Five, it's not like I did anything that made it any more likely that I'd be Reaped. I had like thirteen or fourteen slips in there, that means that I had less chance of it being me than some of the twelve year olds.

I-I'd just got my life on track. I wasn't hurting anyone or nothing. I was just living a happy life with my girl and my kid not bothering anyone. Sure I've made some mistakes but I don't deserve to die.

But this isn't about what I deserve, it's just freak bad luck. It's as if the world is paying me back for all the good luck I've had. Like the Capitol doesn't like the fact that me and B' had just built ourselves a happy life and felt they owed me some misery.

Well if they want me they can have me.

And by me I mean my fist.

As the first Peacekeeper closes in I lash out, catching him in the lip and sending him tumbling.

"You want to Reap me?" I roar, bouncing like a boxer as I hammer the guy in the stomach sending him to his knees, "You wanna Reap me huh? Well come on, just you try it! There ain't enough Peacekeepers in the world to bring me down!"

Turning, I set my sights on B' and rush towards her. All I have to do is get to her I tell myself, and run. All the Peacekeepers are here so noone'll get in our way. There's this lose patch in the fence me and the boys made when we were kids, before we realised there was nowhere to go even if we did escape, we could fit through there easy. We could get out of here, just her, me and Jorgey and we'll never come back. It'll be hard to do, but it's better than the Games. Anything's better than the Games.

A hand grips my bare arm as I reach out for her and I'm surprised to feel the warmth of skin as opposed to the cold glove of a Peacekeeper. I turn, catching sight of Leo.

I've known him for years. We grew up together.

"C'mon man," I plead, "I gotta get outta here. I got B' an Jorge! I can't..."

Leo shrugs, "Someone's gotta get Reaped," he mumbles and drags me back.

"Not me man. Not me," I shake my head, "I ain't done nothing to nobody. Come one Lee you know me, I'm Mr Harmless. Just lemme go."

"Can't," he sighs, "You got any idea what the Peacekeepers'd do to me..."

"But we're buds," I plead, still struggling, "You can't just let 'em..."

"Better you than me," he grimaces, hanging his head.

Well if that's how he wants to play.

I twist my arm forwards and bring my other elbow into his face, dodging another pair of hands as I go. A foot trips me, a sea of arms engulfing me as I try to clamber away.

"You wanna fight me!" I bawl defiantly as I push onwards, "Come on, I can take you!"

My muscles scream their last as the tide of bodies overpowers me, lifting and tumbling me this way and that as the Peacekeepers move in. Before I know it I lie crouched on the stage.

There's only one option left to me now, and it's not pretty. I tried luck, I tried fighting, now I gotta beg.

"You can't do this to me," I pound the stage and reach out towards the bony escort's legs, "I got a kid to feed."

Even to me I sound pathetic, on my last legs, and it's really no surprise when the escort dodges me and commands that I be dragged to my feet.

"And I was having such a great day as well," I mutter. It's really the only thing I can think of saying.

"Thank you. District Five!" Zumo caws, "Your tributes, Aria Willowson and Kil Brooke. And shake."

Aria's eyes pool with tears as I clasp her hand and her thin legs shake under the weight of her own body. She forces the tiniest smile and I feel a stab of pain in my chest.

"Friendly huh?" my own smile is just as weak as hers as I try futilely to lighten the mood, "Guess my good luck hasn't run out just yet."

I jolt as Bianca's cold hands pass over my head, caressing my cheeks and running around to the back of my neck. She pulls back and I look down, seeing a ring of large wooden beads with flower patterns on it hanging around my neck.

"This is my token right?" she doesn't answer, but I know that's what it is. It's what Chris wore for his Games after all.

B' presses close to me again and I find myself wrapped in another of her seemingly endless hugs, Jorge pressed against my chest as she cries deeply.

This is all she's done since she got here, cried and hugged me. She hasn't spoken yet, but she doesn't have to, I've got enough of a mouth for both of us.

"God B'," I sigh, stroking her hair, "I'm sorry. I'm so, so sorry. I shouldn't be doing this to you and Jorgey, it ain't right. I mean, I tried to get to you but there was just nothing I could do. I just- just wasn't strong enough..."

She continues crying.

"I shouldn't 've promised. It was dumb," I sigh, "I jinxed it. If I'd just kept my mouth shut we wouldn't be in this mess. You wouldn't have to... God, I'm so sorry for making you go through this again, I just..." I don't know what to say to her.

We stand speechless for a moment, both of us sobbing quietly, before I try something else.

"I got you, uh, flowers by the way," I smile forlornly, "There out there in my bag somewhere, probably been crushed to mush by now. Was gonna give them to you at dinner, you know ask you out on a date and junk to make you feel better. Guess I kinda, heh, won't be now.

"But I'll try and make it home you know, so you don't have to worry 'bout me," she's beginning to shake, her body raked by sobs, "I-I mean I got a shot ain't I? I've got the looks. I've got strength too and- and people'll remember me 'cos I made an ass of myself at Reapings. And I-I've been practicing a little with a sword, you know. Thought it'd be useful if the Peacekeepers ever came for us. Guess they sorta did..."

Her silence is starting to worry me.

"Come on baby," I plead, "Say something please. I just gotta know that your OK. Come on say something. Anything. I don't care if you scream at me or hit me or whatever for being such a jackass I just- just tell me what's on your mind 'k. I..."

"Kil," her words catch me by surprise and I completely forget where I was going as she stands on her tiptoes and gives me a quick kiss on the lips. She pulls away and wipes her eyes, staring determinedly at me, "Kick their butts."

With that she takes Jorge from me, gives me a surprisingly triumphant smile and hurries out the door.

As I stand alone and bewildered a thought occurs to me that makes me chuckle despite my terrible predicament.

"Women," I mutter to myself, "Don't think I'll ever understand them."

'Hello ladies and gentlemen and welcome back to the quiz with no wrong answers (except that one). Yes it's time for another installment of...

Nyrro asks: Which District/ tribute is your least favourite and why?'

A/N: Well folks it's been a bit of a hectic time for me at the moment, since I've been preparing for my first year at Uni and I'm going tomorrow, but I managed to get another chapter out before I went. Took me forever to get it up though, since I write these on an old netbook with no internet and my memory stick broke, so this one's been in limbo for ages.

As always a little about the tribute. I actually wasn't sure about Kil when I started writing him, but I grew to love more the more I wrote. There are a few differences between him here and the form, which called for Bianca to be pregnant, not to have already given birth, but I decided the dad aspect of the character gave a unique feel to him and helped him stand out, so I decided a plot relevant age up of dat baby was in order.

As always don't forget to review. I read every one and getting an idea of what you think really helps me work out which way I want the story to go. Also you get points for it, so it's win-win.