Sparks Fly

The anthem ends and Azalea and Chaise are taken by the Peacekeepers to the Justice Building. All the while, Chaise tries to avoid Azalea's questioning gaze. He's so angered by her presence that he can just kill her right now.

But he doesn't need to because the Games will begin in a few days. Chaise knows that he can kill her and everyone will think that it's an accident. Or at least they will know that it's inevitable. He's disliked the girl since she stepped up. What was she trying to do? Look brave so she can boost her chances of sponsors?

Chaise's lips curls in distaste. He didn't want to be chosen for the Games but now that he is chosen he might as well try his best to survive. He's sure that he has a better chance of surviving albeit it is very slim against the richer district's tributes. He believes that he's doing Azalea a favor in killing her. A quick and painless death is better than a torturous one though he's almost sure that Azalea won't see the logic in that.

Chaise is shoved in one room while they take Azalea to another. Sitting on the velvety couch, he surveys the room. It's quite an improvement from his own shabby home in the Seam. The carpets are thick and deep. Chaise can't help but feeling a twinge of anger, because why can't he get all this stuff when the Capitol can? His mother has always told him not to say those things about the Capitol out loud because she fears that the Peacekeepers will punish him. Chaise personally doesn't care. Let them punish him, he will stand by his beliefs until the very end.

He sits on the couch, waiting for visitors to arrive. There is one hour for the tributes to say goodbye to their friends and family members (possibly forever) before they have to board the train which will take them to their death or glory.

Chaise can't accept his death, not like this and never like this. If he dies, he knows that he would have fought until his end. He may not be a true contender for the tributes from other districts but he knows that he will try. Already, Chaise is thinking of strategies to use for a better chance of winning.

Trickery and deception is not his strongest points so he crosses out acting weak and deceiving others. He tries to think of another strategy. He can't attack straight out like the tributes from the wealthier districts. He's not too stocky but he has strength so maybe he can fit into their pack… if they allow him in.

The door opens and Chaise's head jerks up. The first visitor is here and it's his mother. He knows it's her despite the generic grey clothes because she's wearing two golden rings on her right hand, index and middle finger. Chaise wonders where his sister is. Seeing his mother sends a jolt of pain in his chest because despite all the tactics that he's coming up with, this may be the last time he'll ever see her.

But Chaise knows that he can't cry. Shouldn't cry. There will be more cameras when he leaves this room to board the train. Crying is not an option and it never will be. He hasn't cried since… He can't remember.

“Oh Chaise!” His mother on the other hand has obviously been crying. Her eyes are bloodshot and her nose is red. She wraps him into a hug and sobs in his shoulder.

“I'm going to be okay,” Chaise tells her with as much confidence as he can muster. Though his mother thinks opposite of this.

“What will we do without you?” she cries. “Why? Why choose my only son right after my husband?”

Chaise freezes up. This topic always leaves him feeling weak and pained and that's why he never wants to hear of it or even talk of it. The pain from thinking of this topic is enough to tempt him into shedding some tears. But luckily, he hasn't succumbed to that kind of weakness yet.

She holds Chaise at arm’s-length and stares at him with a kind of sadness in her eyes that comes as new to Chaise. She's never looked at him like that—like she actually cares about him. The ache in his heart grows and he quickly pushes the thought away. If he doesn't think about these things, he won't cry.

She fumbles with the golden ring on her index and pulls it off of her finger. Chaise has always despised those golden rings. Why hadn't she sold them? Did she keep them for her own selfish reasons? Chaise knows that if she had sold the rings, they would have possibly made a fortune. But she didn't sell them. She keeps them on her fingers and never tells Chaise or Daisy why she keeps it.

“Here,” she says, placing the ring she removed in his palm. He stares at it as if it's infectious. He doesn't want this, not when she can sell it for more money.

“No,” Chaise says, holding his palm out back to her. “Take it and sell it. I might lose it in the arena.” His mother doesn't take it from his hands. Instead, she reaches forward to curl Chaise's fingers around the cold ring.

“Keep it,” she insists. “It's not mine. It's yours.” Chaise, confused by these words, holds it towards himself and opens out up his palm to examine it. How could it be his when his mother always wears it? There's engraving on the inside of the ring. He squints until he can make out the word. It's a completely foreign name to Chaise. The engraving is fanciful enough for the aristocratic name.

“Someone made this for you?” Chaise says, incredulous. It would have cost a fortune! Why would she spend so much money on that? But his mother shakes her head.

“No,” she says almost hesitantly. “When I… found you and Daisy… this was found in your carriage.”

Chaise knows full well of the story that she's telling him. He isn't actually from District 12. He doesn't know where he's from. All he knows is that his foster father had come across his and Daisy's carriage in the woods. His carriage was torn and ripped so he might as well be from a poorer district. Chaise and Daisy have never told this secret to anyone. First of all, the Peacekeepers would wonder why in the world their father would be walking around in the prohibited woods. Then, Chaise and Daisy may as well be shunned from the community.

“If you don't come back, we'll take your token back if you still have it,” his foster mother chokes out.

“I'll win,” he tells her quickly. “I'll come back.” He hesitates before he says the next words. Can he make a promise on these kinds of things? “I… hope.” Hope is good but it's not a promise and Chaise's mother realizes that. She starts sobbing even more and Chaise has to pry himself off her. She's making a stain in the back of his grey shirt.

“I hope you do come back,” she manages to say before she leaves. She stops by the doorway, her eyes still bloodshot when she turns and looks back at Chaise. “You're… You're awfully brave. I believe in you.”

When she leaves, Chaise feels an odd sensation. No one has ever believed in him before. He's never been very close to his mother and ever since his father died in the horrid accident they had grown even further apart. At one point, Chaise had come to believe that his mother hated him. He never stopped once to realize that he is her only son, foster or not. She would never hate him.

His eyes start to get blurry and he knows that this is a sign that he is going to cry. He hurriedly wipes away the forming tears. He is not going to cry. He is not going to cry. Chaise repeats this like a mantra in his head until the tears dry up but the leaden ache still remains.

The next visitor is Daisy, his sister. He wonders why she hadn't come in with his mother and the moment she speaks, he knows why.

“We could have been fighting against each other! Thank goodness that Azalea took your place, but she's… She's my best friend!” Chaise's eyes narrow at the mention of Azalea's name. A burning anger fills in him and pushes away all the pain. Maybe this is a good thing, he thinks, because anger takes away my sorrow.

“As-a-lee-ah?” Chaise says, drawing her exotic name out slowly. Her name sounds very different from most District 12 dwellers. “She wanted to look selfless and brave so she would get more sponsors,” Chaise says rather absentmindedly. He's already judged her as a deceiving girl who just wants the glory of winning. Still, Chaise can't help but feeling relieved that she has taken the place of his sister. He doesn't want to fight Daisy to death and if he has to, he knows that he won't sacrifice himself for her no matter how selfish it seems.

And he doesn't want that to happen on reality television. He doesn't want the entire world to see how selfish and rather sinful his soul really is.

“She is selfless and brave!” Daisy argues, wiping the spot around her eyes. “Why did the tributes have to be you and Azalea?”

“She's a Seam girl, isn't she?” he asks. The Seam is a nickname for the poorer community of District 12. He's not very curious about Azalea's life; this is for his survival. To win, he must know as much as possible about his enemies. He has always believed to keep your friends close and your enemies closer. Azalea qualifies as his enemy right now. Maybe she really is a selfless, naive girl but she can be the opposite and that is what Chaise is afraid of.

Daisy shakes her head. “She's a merchant's daughter,” Daisy says. Chaise is confused by this. Her appearance clearly marked her off as someone from the Seam. Her skin is olive and much darker than his fair skin and her eyes are a stormy grey. But he should know that appearances don't mark everything seeing as he has the look of a merchant's son.

And green eyes of a Capitol inhabitant.

Chaise shakes the thought away, all while fidgeting with the golden ring that his mother had given him. He doesn't know the exact meaning of this because if he and Daisy had been from a poor district how would he have the ring? Maybe the Capitol did some altering with his eyes back in his old district wherever it is. Maybe the ring is something that ties him as a subject the Capitol had decided to toy with.

That is not a good thought. Chaise has an urge to throw the ring away but this is the only thing that also ties him to District 12, the district he grew up in. Daisy notices the ring on his finger and points to it.

“Is that from mother?” she asks in fascination. Chaise nods. “She gave it as a token?” Her voice is filled with envy.

He takes it off and holds it towards her. Daisy hesitantly takes the ring from his palm and examines it with wide, curious eyes.

“Mother said she found it… when father found us,” Chaise says tentatively, looking around for any cameras. He doesn't need the Peacekeepers to know this. Even though his father has died in the worst possible way Chaise knows just as well that they can find other means of punishment.

Though the Peacekeepers in District 12 are not exactly strict, they are not very lax either. Some Peacekeepers will let you go while the others are stricter and possibly more public about their punishments. Chaise knows that he never wants to be caught by the Peacekeepers. Especially since he poaches the woods at least once a week with his sister. Most of the time, they take turns poaching the woods and sometimes they do not cross the fence for weeks if the Peacekeepers are being extra diligent.

Daisy reads the name on Chaise's token out loud. “What do you think the other one will say?” she then asks. Chaise shrugs because he honestly doesn't know. The other ring might have been another aristocratic name but in feminine form. Daisy gives the ring back to her brother and they sit in silence for a while. Chaise wonders if she's thinking about the same thing as he is: the question of their birth. Though Chaise shows indifference whenever the topic arises, inside he desperately wants to know. And while his foster parents are wonderful and anything he could have asked for, he still wonders about the ones who abandoned him.

The question is more like: why did they abandon him along with Daisy? Chaise wants to know one day but he is dubious that he will ever find the answer to that question. He knows he has to let go of that curiosity. He may die in that arena and never find out and he doesn't want that to be his regret.
In fact, he doesn't want any regrets at all. But that's not all too hard for him because he does not care about others. If he cares, he knows that it will be the downfall of him and Chaise finds it stupid for something as trivial as that to bring him down.

He doesn't need to love other people like how Daisy and some other boy from the Seam does. He doesn't need that. Not when he has himself. Love is the greatest weakness and Chaise will be a fool to ever succumb to it.

It's silent between the two twins. Daisy finally breaks the silence. “I don't know who I want to come back,” she admits quietly. “Azalea is my best friend. And you're my brother. I—I'm so split between you two!” Chaise looks up in surprise at her outburst at the end. Daisy's hands are clenched around her grey skirt and her blue eyes are swimming in tears. She blinks once and a tear slips down her cheek.

“I'm sorry,” Chaise says quietly. He does not know how to deal with emotions, especially with girls like Daisy. “At least you're not fighting me,” he says. He doesn't tell Daisy that he is relieved of that too—and not for the same reasons a normal person would have.

Because love is the greatest weakness, he can't allow himself to care for anyone. It hasn't been too hard, really. It's not hard when all you're ever used to is loss and despair. He has learned to shut out feelings such as love long ago. And while he does care for Daisy in a brotherly way, he can't bring himself to feel any remorse over killing Daisy if it ever comes to it. And without Azalea stepping in, he's afraid that this will show in the arena. He's afraid that this will be broadcasted to all of Panem so they can see what a heartless person he is.

He doesn't care if Daisy lives or dies. He simply cannot find himself caring. And perhaps that is the worse part in his resolve to not care. He's anything but empathetic.

But, Chaise thinks, that will be a strength once the Games start.

A slow smile creeps across his face as he considers this. Finally, a good plan has come into his mind. “Daisy,” he says softly, “I apologize if I kill your friend, but I promise that I will try my best to win. I swear to it.” This promise is not for anyone but himself. It is a selfish promise.

Daisy already has her back turned on him. “That's the thing,” she whispers, and he knows that tears are streaming down her face now. And she whispers something so quietly that he can barely hear it unless he strains. But he does hear it.

“I don't even know if I want you to win.”