“ring ri-i-ing ring” The old alarm clock stuttered weakly.

Blaine’s eyes shot open instantly and turned gently to quiet the broken clockwork. Rolling onto his back, he stared up at the cracked ceiling, a small hole filtering a small shaft of sunlight into the small room. Rising slowly, he walked over to a tin bucket of water where he splashed cool water onto his face. Blaine caught a glimpse of himself in a cracked mirror, eying his reflection wearily and taking in the rivulets of water streaming down his faces, catching onto his lashes… the dark circles under his hazel eyes from a sleepless night.

Today was the day.

Blaine shivered as he stripped off his sweats before he pulled on his nicest outfit, a white button down, black pants, and a dark blazer. His hands shook as he slowly buttoned the shirt, the task proving almost impossible.
The door creaked open and cool hands brushed his own aside and slowly buttoned up the rest of the shirt. Blaine raised his head and looked at his mother, who was trying her best to avoid his gaze.

“Mom…”

“Put on your blazer Blaine we’re going to be-“was all Mrs. Anderson managed before Blaine gathered her up in his arms.

“Don’t worry sweetheart, they won’t pick you.” She said in a strained voice.

“That’s what you say every year.” Blaine smiled as he released her and pulled on his blazer. “How do I look?” He said, raising his eyebrow comically and gesturing down at himself, trying his best to lighten the mood that still lingered heavy in the dusty air.

“Dashing. All grown up.” Mrs. Anderson replied with a small laugh before pressing her lips to her son’s forehead and holding him close.

“Everyone ready?” Mr. Anderson asked, poking his head into the room.

“Yeah. Let’s go.”

Walking out of the small stone cottage and down the worn road, the Andersons kept closer together than usual, Blaine sandwiched between his two parents.

When the family reached the crowded and silent city square, Mrs. Anderson giving her son one last hug, and Mr. Anderson giving Blaine’s shoulder a reassuring squeeze, before watching their boy make his way into the group of boys.

Around them, everyone was doing the same. The Hummel- Hudson family finished their quick reassurances, wrapping the two boys they had into tight hugs before releasing them. Watching the two boys sign in to an attending Peacekeeper who coldly checked off their names before pushing them into the others, Carole wiped away a tear.

Burt, looking down at her with a weak smile, slipped his arm around her waist and pulled her close and said, “Don’t cry. They haven’t been picked. The reaping hasn’t even started. We go through this every year.”

“Doesn’t make it any easier,” she said with a sniffle, “And now I have to worry about another.”

Not finding the right answer, Burt simply held her tighter.

***

Kurt pushed his way through the mob of quiet boys, Finn following closely behind him, until Kurt found the person he was looking for. He stepped next to his boyfriend, and silently clasped his hand. Blaine turned and ghosted his lips over Kurt’s before turning to look over Kurt’s narrow shoulder.

“Hey Finn.”

Finn nodded back.

“Hello boys.” Puck said, shoving a thirteen year old aside. Mike more kindly picked his way through the crowd and joined the small group.

“Remember our promise.” Kurt said to all of them, but locking his eyes with Blaine’s, “No one volunteers. Whatever happens.”

They all murmured in agreement and turned to the podium as the mayor coughed into the microphone.

“Good morning citizens of District 1! As you all know we’re here to pick a boy and girl who will have the honor of representing District 1 in the twenty-third annual Hunger Games!” He continues the usual speech, reading off two names, the only two victors of District 1 in twenty two years of brutal games. Only one is still alive, Phebee Crippet, a woman with steel grey hair pulled into a tight bun, not a hair out of place, her piercing blue eyes watching the scene before her coldly, her face expressionless. The Mayor continued, “Please welcome Mr. Benjamin Port, our District Escort, who is here to pick our tributes,” May the odds be ever in your favor!” he called, turning and handing the microphone to a large overweight man who took the mayor’s place between the two glass bowls.

“Well then let’s get started!” Mr. Port said with a smile, “As always, ladies first!” Diving his chubby fingers into the bowl and mixing the papers a bit before drawing out a small slip.

“Elizabeth Browning!”

Kurt breathed in sharply as he remembered the small girl from his Ancient Literature class. He heard Finn and Mike exhale slowly behind him, relived that their girlfriends’ names weren’t the ones called.

“Poor Elizabeth.” Kurt whispered softly as he saw the petite girl shakily make her way up to the stage, looking smaller than usual next to the large Mr. Port, amidst the sobs of a woman who could only be her mother. Blaine squeezed his hand tightly.

“Time to choose our male tribute!” Mr. Port said excitedly in his Capitol drawl.

Blaine felt his heart beat faster as he watched the fat man pick a paper out of the bowl.

Licking his lips, the escort read out a name clearly.

“Blaine Anderson!”