Deleted Scenes: Initiative

The sun shone through the window, resting softly on the flecks of dust that idly floated through the air and came to rest upon the surfaces in the room. He liked to keep the place clean, or as clean as it possibly could be, with five boys living in this one tiny space. Even if the others left their areas to stink and collect dust… He was better than that. Better than this tiny place. Better than this awful space. Better than this dumbass District that treated him like a piece of shit all the time and the pigs that surrounded him: both the animals and the people, if you would even call his roommates that. 

 

He sat on the tiny hay bale they called a bed. It was the only safe space in the entire world. And it wasn’t even that safe, really. There was almost always someone else around, and they always had an opinion. Theirs was simply just wrong, and they were too stubborn to realize it. 

 

Now was one of the rare moments that he was alone. It was a gorgeous day, the pesky sun was shining, the air dry of any breeze. Outside of his window, at least a score of children ran, giggled, and played with the few toys they had and their imaginations. 

 

His guitar was the only thing keeping him from fucking losing it. It was the one thing that he found fulfillment in. The one way he has any hope at making a living, because the horses fucking hated him, and he hated them back. And the idea of being gorey and bloody as a butcher? Absolutely not. As if anyone would want to take him in as an apprentice. He didn’t even have a last name. They just tagged one onto him, Smith, as if that would make him more adoptable. Well, frankly, unless Arthur Warwick walked through that door, he wouldn’t want to be adopted. He’s old enough to make his own life now, and doesn’t want or need anyone to make it for him.  

 

“You have a visitor.” 

 

The words echoed through the empty rooms. It took another iteration of the statement for him to realize it was for him. 

 

Damnit. The boy let out a sharp breath of annoyance. He didn’t want any damn visitors, he just wanted to play. 

 

He stood straight up, running his hands through his hair. He gently sat the instrument on the haystack and walked out to the small visiting room. He froze in the doorway when he saw the man sitting across from him. 

 

“Well? Enter, child.” 

 

He was quick to obey, sliding down into a seat. “You meant to see me Sir?”

 

“Yes, yes.” The man seemed to be in a hurry, not like he particularly wanted to be there. “I have a job for you.” He looked around the room, a guard standing at the closed door, before he leaned in towards the orphan. “In the face of opposition, we need unification. This country needs to be cleansed from the rebellious celebrities that believe they can run the government.” The way the man’s eyebrows creased made the boy sink a little lower into his seat. “What we need is a feel-good group. A group with a story. With a heart for peace, cooperation, and obedience.” 

 

He looked toward the boy expectantly. 

“What’s in it for me?” It takes two to play chess, old man.

 

At the question, the man simply broke into a smile. “You are clever. I would expect nothing less from you. I believe the reward is obvious: nationwide fame, riches, freedom, residence in the Capitol…” Perhaps the man could see the stars in the boy’s eyes, because he let out a low chuckle. “Does that strike your fancy?” 

 

“Please, don’t ask rhetorical questions.” The boy folded his hands on his lap. “I must ask, why me?” He knew that it was an opportunity he deserved. But surely someone this important had something in his back pocket, just waiting to expose itself. 

 

“I need someone cordial to keep the peace. I need someone talented and charming. I need someone ambitious and devoted to success. And, well, the apple doesn’t fall far from the tree, now does it?” 

 

His heartbeat quickened. “I always knew there was something about me that was bigger than this shithole,” and quickly added, “Excuse my language.” 

 

This gained a laugh from the man. “Come home, boy. You have greatness ahead of you.” 

 

“Wait, right now?!” he squeaked, as the guards came to usher them out the door. 

 

“If you’re ready to leave your old life behind.” 

 

He swallowed a nervous lump in his throat. “Of course.”

He walked out the door, not even looking back long enough to pick up his guitar.