Betting on the Hunger Games wasn’t a mystery or considered strange in the Capitol, neither was it in its place of origin- District 12. You had known about the Booker Boys since you were young, and in school. It was normal for your father to join in on the gambling, even if it was a bit.. evil, betting on soon to be dead kids. But it got your family the tiniest bit of money to get by.

Sometimes even you participated, extra cash wasn’t the worst thing.

That’s how you met Wyatt Callow, the boy, strangely enough your age. He was the smartest lad you’ve met in a long shot, he could tell the odds of a tribute in under a minute. However seeing him outside of the regular betting place in the Hob, he was outside in the outskirts of the Seam, book in hand. Literature was hard to come by. Grey eyes glanced up at you, a tinge of familiarity in his eyes, but Wyatt didn’t dare comment.