Conley had never particularly /liked/ Reaping Day, but in the years before he had turned twelve, it had at least been a more cheerful occasion. He recalled how after every Reaping, Aunt Lotus would make a whole feast for them, his favorite dishes being the roasted duck and the cake she prepared herself. They'd even invite his parents and brother over to share in the celebration. Reaping Day was one of the few days in the year that he actually got to see them all since they had sent him to live with his aunt. Now, for the past three years, although he saw his parents and his brother every day, Aunt Lotus never invited them over for dinner after the Reaping. She claimed that it was because it would be too painful to see them, but Conley couldn't help but feel bitter towards the woman who had raised him for nearly his whole life. But today, it wasn't only bitterness for her that swallowed his heart. As Conley stood among the other kids from District 4, his one focus was to make it through the day. He guessed that was what everyone else was thinking about too. He also hoped his brother would survive, but he tried not to think of him too much. So he kept his gaze focused on the stage. Conley barely paid attention as the Reaping began. He was too busy hoping that if his name was called, one of the careers would volunteer in his stead. It wasn't a guarantee, but it was something. Really, one of the biggest things he hated about Reaping Day was how anxious it made him. He was rarely this anxious. It wasn't a good look on- "Conley Wellspring!" He flinched at the sound of his name, almost looking around for a teacher, parent, or other adult who was trying to tell him to pay more attention. But it didn't take him long to realize the reason his name had been called. Gulping, he padded up to the stage, moving as slowly as possible. Giving someone time to volunteer in his place. A career. One of his friends. Maybe someone who happened to have a giant crush on him? He glanced around him, whispering under his breath, "Anyone?" As he stared through the rows of kids from District 4, his gaze landed on his brother, who was staring at him with wide eyes. Conley paused, staring back at him. Hope coursed through his veins. Maybe Lochlan would volunteer for him! He didn't want his brother to be in the games, but surely he had a greater chance of winning than he did, right? But all his brother did was turn his gaze away. Conley felt anger flare up inside him, but he knew better than to act on it. That never went well for him, and honestly, he couldn't blame Lochlan. He wasn't entirely sure he would volunteer for him either. So, although he wasn't naturally solemn, Conley hung his head and continued walking. No one was going to save him. He couldn't believe it. Fear outweighed his anger as he took his place among the other tributes from District 4. But as he stared at his district for what was likely to be the last time, his fear quickly turned into bitterness. Soon, that was all he felt.
So angsty. Conley would much rather pick one bad emotion than feel a complicated mix of them.
