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“Nice suit, did your daddy buy it for you?”
“Well, yes it was-”
Mumbo’s answer trailed off, as his classmates had already moved on, closer to the Reaping podium. They weren’t exactly his friends, but they sat with him at lunch, all the rich kids with their packed lunch boxes, nothing like the starving kids who sat in the cafeteria empty handed.
He hurried after them as the crowd grew thicker, the population of District 3 crowding the square, waiting for the ceremony to begin, while all the eligible 12 to 18 year olds stood neatly until one of them had been called to the Games.
He was all dressed up, his fancy suit and elegant new tie, the best dressed of all his peers, still Mumbo’s hand kept fidgeting. Even if his name was in that Reaping glass bowl only four times, his chances significantly better than those who had been taking out Tesserae since twelve years old, he could not help but be scared.
Their Capitol escort walked out on the podium once the crowd had settled down. A young man with blonde hair and a sing-songy voice who had been representing District 3 for a couple of years.
“Good afternoon District 3! Happy 149th Life Games! ”
Oli, like most other Capitol citizens who worked for the Games, always had a cheerful disposition that clashed with the somber mood of the population of the Districts.
“I missed you too! But I am delighted to be back here for this year’s Reaping.”
He said to the scared and stone faced children in front of him. It took a lot of skill to carry on smiling confidently with the unresponsive audience, but he had trained for that, he is still a performer after all.
“Let’s get started then, who will be this year’s Tribute for District 3?”
Mumbo had talked to Oli once, during some elegant dinner hosted by his fathers to paint District 3 and their company in a better light for the Capitol. He was a really social guy, good at talking but amazing with the piano as he’d shown everyone that day almost two years prior.
As Oli swished his hand around in the glass Reaping bowl, dragging out his theatrical hand gesture until he landed in the very middle of the paper slips and chose one, Mumbo almost felt like he was looking at him.
“And the Tribute representing District 3 for this year’s Life Games is Mumbo.”
He said it quickly as if to rip off the bandaid, but chaos erupted next to the stage where his parents had been sitting near the mayor. Almost immediately, two peacekeepers were flanking him, firmly moving him towards the stage as the other kids made way for them silently. His father started yelling incoherently trying to make his way towards Oli and the Peacekeepers as his dad tried to hold him back.
Mumbo couldn’t really make out all his father was saying, but one thing he got clearly.
“I paid good money so this would never happen, you can’t do this, you can’t take my boy, I will kill you all!”
As the shouts grew louder the anthem started playing, blaring from the speakers higher than it already had. Enough to drown out the gunshot that pierced Mumbo’s father's chest. He collapsed into his husbands arms, looking merely passed out if it weren't for the blood pooling at his feet.
That’s when Oli grabbed him even more firmly than the Peacekeepers had, dragging him inside the justice building.