Elliot Hendrickson has had a rough past, so when his name is drawn at the Reaping, part of him welcomes the change after six years as District One's pretty boy.  But will he be able to make it through? And what happens when some of the tributes start taking advantage of this slave boy?

     I wake up in a cold sweat. The sun streams in through the windows and I glance over at four-year-old Alex, asleep beside me. He doesn’t understand the gravity of today; which is not only my sixteenth birthday, but Reaping Day. I envy him that. I envy him what little innocence he has left, after all, you can’t be in our line of “work” and expect to keep your innocence. All around me, luxurious District One is awakening, telling me it’s time to get dressed. I’m originally not from this district, but when I was ten, my dad sold me to a Peacekeeper who brought me to District One where he later sold me to a harem. So, for the past six years, I’ve been hired out to whoever wanted me. After taking a shower and pulling on some jeans, a blue T-shirt, and some boots, I head back into my room to wake Alex. “Hey, buddy,” I say softly as I shake him awake. “It’s time to get up now.”

         His brown eyes flutter open. “Hi, Elliot.”

         I help him get dressed. As soon as we step out into the hall, my friend, Aiden hurries up to us. “You’re late,” he whispers.

         “Is he upset?”

         “Immensely.”

         I hurry to the room where our master’s son, Phoenix, is waiting. “You’re late, boy,” he growls.

         “Sorry,” I reply. “Didn’t know I was needed.”

         Phoenix glares at me with fiery golden-brown eyes. We’re only two years apart, but that doesn’t mean a thing to him. 

         “Shall I sing for you?”

         “No.” 

         “Then what do you want me—” I stop mid sentence when I’m practically thrown against the wall. “Let me go.”

         “This is why you’re here,” he looks at me with a devious glint in his eyes.

         “Your father would never—”

         “My father doesn’t need to know. Besides, who’d help a slave boy like you?”

         I don’t dignify him with a response. We stare each other until Aiden knocks at the door. Phoenix leans towards my ear, so close his lips brush against it when he speaks. “Remember what you are, boy.”

         ——————————————————

         At the Reaping, Aiden and I line up with the boys in our age group. Our escort this year, Destiny comes out on stage. She is dressed from head-to-toe in bright blue and her skin is pale. After the video of the history of the Hunger Games, Destiny exclaims the familiar greeting. “Happy Hunger Games! May the odds be ever in your favor! Ladies first!” she steps over to the girls’ ball, and pulls out a piece of paper. “Lux Luther.”

         Lux, one of the Career tributes, goes up on stage smiling. Her whole physique overflows with confidence. 

         “Now, for the gentlemen,” Destiny walks over to the ball where, just for fun, my name has been entered by Phoenix’s family several times. “Elliot Hendrickson.”

         I swallow and then head up onto the stage. 

         “Any volunteers?”

         No one moves, not even a Career. I drop my gaze to the floor. 

         Aiden comes to say goodbye, and takes my hands. “Your hands are so cold, El,” he remarks.

         I pull him into a hug, and bury my face in the crook of his neck. “Say goodbye to Alex for me,” I whisper.

        “I will. Oh, and El, don’t forget, you’re more capable than you think. You can do this.”

        I keep a tight grip on my best friend until the Peacekeepers pull us apart. Suddenly, I snap. “Don’t take him,” I plead, tears streaming down my cheeks. “Don’t take him from me, please!”

       “Remember what I said,” Aiden calls to me as they force him out the room and lead me to the train station.