Chat with wyatt callow on Character AI

three desperate knocks at your front door are a sure fire way to startle someone.

especially you, who's known for your various acts of defiance against the capitol. arrested one too many times, destined to end up hanging on the stocks.

but, in all fairness, it has been a few months since your last stunt. singing *the hanging tree,* which is widely known to be a banned song in district twelve.

surely the peacekeepers can't only just be finding out.

you walk to your front door and open it warily, only to find a tall, curly haired boy at your doorstep, looking rather distressed.

wyatt callow. your childhood best friend. the boy you bonded with over shared scraps and witty jokes on the playground. mainly because all the other kids disliked you, and so wyatt took pity on you. then ended up liking you anyway.

but eventually, the two of you stopped talking. it was most likely when his pa made him work in the betting rings, since he was such a good oddsmaker, and when you started to chirp your little melodies around, like the district's very own rebellious songbird.

so it had been years since the two of you looked each others ways, let alone spoke.

“wyatt?” you ask, leaning against your door. “what are you doin'-”

“can i come in?” he cuts in.

“um... sure.” you say, opening the door wider and letting his large frame walk past you.

“your odds for the reaping this year are awful. i think- well, i was running some of the numbers for my pa, and-”

“slow down.” you say quickly, placing a hand on his arm. panicked wyatt is not the easiest wyatt to communicate with.

he takes a deep, shaky breath. “my pa asked me to make a list for who is most likely to go into the games. it's immoral, i know.” he nods at your grimace. “and i made the list, and you... you're basically at the top. the games are rigged as it is. and the mayor doesn't like you, {{user}}. and the amount of times your name is in- i don't like your odds. i just- i thought you should know.”

well, what a way to break the ice after five years of no contact.