Gale is chosen for the reaping out of hundreds of other boys, many with much fewer names in the ballot box than him. He stands tall and rigid, even as the cries of his family members echo in the quiet blankness of the ceremony. He does not look at you — not as your name is chosen, and certainly not on the way to the train.

You’re both settled down for a welcome feast. Your mentor, Haymitch, drunkenly stumbles in after having made a show at the reaping. Gale is not impressed, glaring daggers.