Phil's PoV

(Also, I don't own 'The Illustrated Man', a book by Ray Bradbury that I'm reading in my freshman english class, which is mentioned here!)

Part 1: Rain (Phil’s PoV)

The arena is freezing, and to make it worse, icy rain runs down my neck and into my shirt. We sit under some particularly leafy trees, but...c’mon. They’re trees. It’s better than nothing, I guess, but not at all as good as an actual roof…

Dan is crouched next to me, his arms crossed tightly over his chest. I’m grateful for what little body heat that’s radiating off of him. A light chuckle escapes from me: his sulking is almost comical...and dude, his wet bangs!

He glares at me defensively. “What?”

“Nothing,” I say, thinking he wouldn’t find his hair as amusing as I just did.

“Hmpf.” he huffs. “Bet you wish you were with your career buddies now…” But...if I didn’t know better, I’d say he sounds...mm, insecure, maybe? Yeah. But maybe he is. I mean, I’m his only ally.

“C’mon, Dan, it’s not that bad,” I say, smiling. “We’re out in nature!”

“We’ll freeze to death.”

“Probably not,” I muse thoughtfully, ignoring his hostile tone. “The Gamemakers want a better show than that. Now if you can make that interesting…” I joke, and he gives a wry snort.

“True. Too boring.”

We sit in silence for awhile, with literally only the rain. The sound of it, the smell of it, the sight of it, the feel of it… I’m going to go mad. It’s obvious that Dan isn’t going to talk first--too shy, sweet thing. But if I’m left to myself any longer, my mind will begin to wander. And I’m deathly afraid that if it does, I’ll break down like I did in the Capitol.

I don’t want to be a burden.

“Ever read ‘The Illustrated Man’?” I blurt out.

Dan looks at me slowly, frowning. “...no.”

“Oh.” I say. Then, “They had a story in it called ‘the Long Rain’.”

“How interesting.” Dan mutters sarcastically.

“It was about some men who land on Venus in, and they’re looking for safety from a perpetual rain.”

“Huh. And what happens to these wet men?” Suddenly, in the dim light, his face burns beet red at what he just said. I smile.

“Well, they all had lovely sex, and--”

His face manages to get a little redder, and I hide my huge grin at his embarrassment. I have to admit, it’s kind of adorable. “Seriously, Phil--maybe it can help us.”

“Er--no, actually, it can’t. They all die, except for one.” I say. “They basically go insane.”

Dan blinks, his face clearing. “That is...really inspiring. Thank you, Phil. That was...a really good idea.”

“Okay, then you tell me something good.” I huff.

He purses his lips, sombering. “You wanna know something that’d be good? If we died quickly. Or if we don’t have to kill each other. That’d be good.” He’s bitter--I can understand why--and he shuts up right after. I bite my lip.

“Dan, let’s play a game.” I say after a moment. He looks up, slightly startled. “Tell me something I don’t know about you. Tell me about District 5.”

He looks back down, highly uncomfortable. “There’s nothing interesting.”

“Aw c’mon, Dan--”

“I’d really prefer not to.” he says tightly.

“Okay. Then ‘This or That’.”

He groans good-naturedly. “I swear… we’re fighting for our lives, and you want to play games? The irony…”

I chuckle. “Yes! Do you know how to play? It’s pretty simple…” he nods sullenly. “Okay. Red or blue?”

“What, like the colors?” I smile and nod. “Red.” he pauses, taps his chin with a thin finger. “Okay, Phil: winter or summer?”

“Hm...summer. I like the sun.”

“Dude, you’re practically albino.” he rolls his eyes. I grin and shove him playfully; but he stiffens and pulls away.

I clear my throat awkwardly. “Uh--sorry. Cake or cupcakes?”

“Cake,” he says very softly, a slight smile twisting his lips. “Not that we’ll ever have it again though…”

“Don’t say that! One of us will make it out, I’m sure of it.”

“There’s optimism, and then there’s lying to yourself, Phil.”

“Shut up and ask the question, dammit!” I laugh.

He laughs too, his dark eyes lighting up. “Chipmunk’s got himself into a huffy!”

I stand up on my knees, pretending to look threatening. “Oy! I’m a career--I can kill you for calling me that!”

“You wouldn’t.” he says easily as I plop down next to him.

“Oh yeah? And how are you so sure?”

“Dunno.” he says seriously. “Just...you wouldn’t.”

I’m silent for a moment. Dan’s right: obviously I won’t. But it makes me pause. I was never a killer--not really--but I guess I’m still a career. When did I all of a sudden realize I won’t kill my ally? Like, no matter what? It worries me…

“Hey.” Dan breaks my thoughts. He doesn’t nudge me (god forbid he even touch me), but mild shy concern leaks out of his voice. “You all right?”

“What? Oh. Of course.” I give him a smile. “You still have to ask your question.” I decide to worry later, preferably after we go to sleep.

“Oh yeah...hm. Okay. Water or milk?”

“Like, what kind of milk?” I raise an eyebrow.

He turns his laugh into a cough. “Uh, regular milk. What other type of milk is there?”

“What about...warm milk...with sugar mixed in...and just a dash of cinnamon…” I smack my lips happily, then notice his odd look. “Ever had that? No?” He shakes his head, his bangs floppy. The rain is lessening, by the way. “Oh. My mum used to make that for me...anyway. If we’re going by regular milk and just water, then water. Go natural.”

Dan chuckles, but it sounds bitter.

“What?” I question.

“It’s kind of offensive. Er, not that exactly, but...tactless.”

I shrug. “Shoot.”

“...and suddenly a tribute comes up with a bow-and-arrow and…” he mutters, smirking, before getting serious. “Phil, what’s it...what’s it like to have parents who actually care about you?”

“Don’t yours?” I ask stupidly, before wincing. If he’s asking, then obviously they don’t.

His face barely changes: his lips twitch up in a slightly disturbing smile. He speaks very softly. “My mum’s dead. My dad hates me, and…” He takes a deep breath and, holding out his arm, he starts to pull up his sleeve very slowly (but part of that is because it’s still a little wet). And they’re faded, but my stomach flops dangerously: his arm is lined with bruises, and even a few lacerations.

“Oh Dan…” I manage, before pulling him into a tight hug.

He stiffens. “Phil, don’t--please.” he pulls away from me, his face extra white.

“Sorry.” I murmur sadly. Then a thought occurs to me. “Wait--is that why you don’t like to be touched? Because your dad hurt you?”

I’ll never hurt you, I say silently, and shudder slightly.

“...one of the reasons.” Dan mutters. “I’m fine now.”

“I’m so sorry. I had no idea.” I whisper.

“That’s kinda the point,” he snaps, before softening slightly. “Sorry. It’s not your fault, Phil. I don’t want to take--”

A booming cannon fire interrupts our conversation, and we both jump. In the dark sky--it’s night now--someone’s face lights up for a moment before disappearing again. I squint in the light drizzle at the sky, and then at Dan, who shrugs.

“Dunno who that was. But it looks like your career buddies are on the prowl tonight.”

“They’re not my buddies!” I scoff, and he smiles slightly. It’s good to see him smile. “And something else might’ve killed them. Like a--a mutt.” I gulp. Mutts scare me a little, to be honest.

“Whatever you say, chipmunk.”

“Dan…!” I warn, and he chuckles. Anyway I stand up and stretch, my muscles stiff. “Okay. Ready to make camp?”

He stands, and even though he’s a year younger than me (sixteen), he’s a good few inches taller than me. “I guess. We shouldn’t try and make it towards The House any more?”

I make a face. “Nah. Tomorrow we will.”

“You said that yesterday…”

“Well, it rained!”

So in the arena, there’s this one house. Only one--the rest of the arena is forest. But our plan is to check out The House, see what secrets it holds...  I think of it as sort of a safe house. And so far we’re on the right track.

“...c’mon, then,” I say, digging into our bag of supplies and pulling out...aha! Found it! I grin. “Okay you’re going to say no, but--”

“No.” he blurts evilly, smirking.

“Shut up! I hate you.” I laugh. “Just hear me out, okay?”

He nods, grinning still.

“So it’s freaking freezing. And you, mister, are sleeping in the sleeping bag with me.” I say triumphantly, and I wait for him to protest like he usually does. It doesn’t come, to my surprise and pleasure.

He takes a deep breath, and nods. “Okay.”

I beam at him, looking up from packing. “Really?!”

He smiles weakly. “Don’t get your panties in a bunch, chipmunk.”

And in the dark a minute later, I feel him slide in next to me. He’s trembling slightly, but he’s warm and broad and comforting, so I lean into him. It’s all good.

“Dan?”

“Mm?”

“Two questions.”

“Sleep…” he moans. I smile.

“Boy or girl?”

“I didn’t know you were expecting..” he mumbles. I elbow him and he yelps.

“Seriously!” I command.

“Mm...I choose chipmunks…”

“Dan!”

He grunts. “Fine. For what?”

I smile a secret smile in the dark next to him. “A relationship.” I whisper. Sex, but I’m more tactful.

There’s a long pause. And just like that, my mind wanders… Am I wrong? Have I overstepped my boundaries?! Dan confided a lot in me today...but does he hate me now?! Oh no oh no oh--

“Boy.” he breathes. I hope we’re quiet enough so that the cameras can’t hear us, or so they’re focusing on some other poor soul right now--for our privacy, for Dan’s privacy--but I doubt they are. “I...I never told anyone that before. Never admitted it, really, even to myself.”

“It’s all right,” I muse gently next to him. “I’m honored to be the person you tell.”

He laughs very quietly, and I feel him turn his head to look at me (we’re lying side-by-side on our backs--honestly, nothing else!). “You have to win, Phil.”

“It’s only the third day! You can’t give up yet.”

“I love how you say ‘yet’.” he says, smirking, before frowning. “And I’m not, don’t worry. But...if my dad’s watching this, and I win...he’ll kill me.”

“Homophobe?” I say sourly. I’ve encountered a few in my time too.

“Well, yeah. He already hates me, I told you…” I nod solemnly. “But this--this here--is literally an excuse to kill me. And if not this, then something else, believe me.”

“Why does he hate you so much, Dan?” I blurt out. He tenses up next to me, and I backtrack. “Sorry. That’s too personal. You don’t have to tell me if you don’t want to.”

“It’s just...yeah. Not something I like to talk about.” he mutters. “But win for me, okay, chipmunk?”

“We’ll see…” I murmur, and as he huffs I smile.

“...you’re amazing, you know that, right?” Dan asks.

“I get that a lot.” I joke.

“You’re positive. In all this, you can still smile and joke like that,” he says wistfully. “I could never do that… Hell, I’m more surly than not lately. So how do you do it?”

“Honestly? It just comes natural. It’s kind of my way of protecting myself. My mum…” I trail off, biting my lip: Dan doesn’t have a proper family, I can’t just talk about mine like this.

As if reading my mind, he amends, “No, go on. I like it when you talk about your life.”

That makes me give a little smile, and I continue. “Well, my mum and my sister--they’re really accepting. I love them both so much, especially for that.” And I hope they hear that, back home in Two.

“That’s nice.” Dan says sincerely, but he sounds tired. Come to think of it, I am too--and I yawn widely. “Sleepy, chipmunk?”

I giggle softly. “Yes!”

“Phil. Can I…?” he says hesitantly, seriously.

“...yes.”

With a tiny thrill in the pit of my stomach, I feel his fingers slip into mine (out of sight, underneath the blanket). They’re warm, and the fingertips are a little bit rough, and I feel...nice.

“Phil.” Dan whispers next to me, and I’m grinning way too widely and my heart is beating like crazy but I don’t even care. “The truth is, I like you. A lot. Since...I don’t know, since training. And much more than I should, in these circumstances.”

“Same.” I whisper happily.

His breathing quickens. “R-really? You…”

“Yeah. I like you.” I say. It feels good to finally get it out.

His hand tightens in mine, and if I listen close enough, I can hear his heartbeat. He’s warm, and for the first time, I feel safe here. I want him to win--I’m not afraid of death--but...if he does, he’ll have to face his shitty father (I feel cold just thinking of the man: how could anyone hate smart, funny, lovely Dan?!). I wish both of us could win...I wish we could be in a regular relationship…

“Love you, chipmunk,” Dan whispers, and from his voice I can tell he’s grinning.

“Love you too.” I say, sighing, and I’ve never meant anything more in my life.

“What was the other thing you wanted to ask me?” he remembers. I sigh again, and recede more into him.

You or me? If it really came down to it?

“Nothing,” I say, and fall into a deep sleep, waiting for tomorrow...

**TO BE CONTINUED IN PART TWO**