I think it’s every
fangirls’ dream to take on the role of their heroes and experience
their adventures themselves, just like how it is told in the books,
but never in a million years would I dare to even wish to be Katniss
Everdeen and be thrown in the Arena like in The Hunger Games.
But it was too late. I
got the role when I got the phone call from my little cousin in Cebu,
“Ate please, buy us tickets to One Direction’s On The Road Again
Tour Concert!” Surprise! This little cousin of mine is my own
Primrose Everdeen. And as the story goes, I protect her (happiness),
and take her place in The Hunger Games.
So there I was in the
driveway of the Mall of Asia Arena on a Thursday night, scouting the
scene and deeming the reports of the 1D Street Team PH on Twitter
true: hundreds of people have already camped out. And more people
were arriving every minute. Seriously, how crazy is that?!? I didn’t
even have any plans to risk not being included in the first 15000
fans who can buy tickets.
At 10 pm, I laid my camp
down.
I have always imagined my
first camping experience would be roasting marshmallows on sticks,
sleeping under the stars and telling ghost stories with friends in
the woods. I never thought that it would be eating stale fast food,
sleeping on a yoga mat and duffle bag under beaming lights, and
befriending a complete stranger in the driveway of the Mall of Asia
Arena. For nine whole hours, that was my reality.
True to the plot, the
first few hours of The Hunger Games were pretty dragging. I don’t
know why I believed I could have been productive that night by
finishing a book or writing a few articles. The heat, hunger and
drowsiness got the better of me. I ended up playing with my tablet
and phone until their batteries died (note to self: invest in a Power
Bank and good mobile WiFi for situations like these), and getting to
know my line-mate.
Her name was Eiei, a 19
year old Senior of the same university I will be entering this July.
She admitted that she’s been a big fan of the British boy band
since high school, and would commute all the way from Tagaytay, camp
out alone, and spend 18K for ‘the Boys.’
I looked around me and
saw a pattern of similar stories: yayas and drivers tired of the
day’s work but camping out for their alagas, boyfriends and
suitors hoping to buy tickets for their girls, and barkadas of
14 year old girls trying to make their teenage dreams come true –
seeing those five (gorgeous) British boys on March 21, 2015.
The sun rose behind the
SMX Convention Center in front of the arena and slowly the morning
light spilled into the driveway at 6 am. The ever vigilant bouncers
woke up the crowd to prep them for the ticket selling, causing a
false alarm. Mats were being rolled up, empty paper bags of fast food
breakfast were discarded, and media men started arriving and
interviewing the campers. Loud chatter and laughter, and the random
singing of One Direction tunes erupted left and right. The driveway
was slowly coming to life. Let the games begin!
More and more people were
arriving at 7 am. The queue zigzagged all the way to the opposite
entrance of the Arena. Some people desperately tried to sneak past
bouncers and cut in line. But the crowd wouldn’t have that. I
witnessed this first hand: as the line for the VIP and Diamond
tickets slowly moved in, a man and his two daughters followed closely
behind. The bouncer, maybe ticked off by the other fans, kicked the
man and his two daughters out of the line. The scene caused an uproar
and later cheers from the crowd. Bloody, I know.
At 8 am, I entered the
arena.
I was so surprised and a
little bit pissed to see that there were only seven counters and that
the divisions (VIP and Diamond, and Titanium, Gold, Silver and
General Admission) didn’t exist anymore. It was now one really long
line, and we were almost at the end of it! But the cold air from the
giant aircons and the program, with music videos, behind the scenes
clips and prizes, proved to be a good consolation.
Everything was going
great, but I should have known it was the calm before the storm.
At 10 am, the management
announced that VIP tickets were completely sold out. Teenage girls
were crying, some threw angry fits, and a talk started going around.
It was impossible that all 1000+ VIP tickets were bought by the first
hundred early birds. After all, one person was allowed to buy only a
maximum of five tickets, and there arewere no ticket reservations.
Conspiracy theory number one: celebrities called in a favor and had
their tickets reserved, escaping the long lines.
But there was hope! A
minute after the bad news broke out, the emcee shouted, “head over
to the back and have your “VIP
and Diamond tickets reserved for the second show!” Suddenly
people ran and jumped over the barriers, half towards the reservation
counters and the other half forward, leaving a few of us lost and
confused.
But the emcee was not yet
done with his announcement, “because
we will be requesting for a second show!” And
suddenly people came running back. Lines didn’t exist anymore! It
was now a big mass of people pushing and pulling. More teenage girls
were crying, and angry parents were looking for the suddenly absent
bouncers, calling for their managers and handlers. The media men
suddenly swooped in and the cameras started rolling. The whole time,
the emcees still went on with the program.
This was the final battle
in the arena, wherein every decision anyone made was crucial.
Eiei and I struggled in
the sea of people, and later on decided to take chance and have
tickets reserved, but we weren’t so keen on leaving the arena empty
handed.
We went back to the
lines. It was there, and from a frantic and obviously angry girl that
I learned conspiracy theory number two: the second show was already
planned. She showed us the promotional video, and pointed out a
glitch: the awkward one second cut in the show date(s) Zayn Malik was
announcing.
Angry and full
adrenaline, we didn’t feel the fatigue, hunger and thirst. We’re
just waiting for it (the lines) to end. Maybe this was what Peeta was
feeling when he bleeding in the river.
It was 3 pm when Eiei and
I (FINALLY!) paid for our tickets—the last few remaining ones in
the Diamond section.
The moment I stepped out
of the doors of the Arena, I swear, the afternoon light engulfed me
and the heavy feeling I didn’t know was there was swept away when
relief washed over me. I felt like a soldier walking away from the
battle that was just won.
Some people would say
camping out for 17 hours for concert tickets is “completely
mental”, but I am proud to say I did it. I did something I didn’t
know I could do, I learned new things, and I made a new friend.
Happy Hunger Games
indeed.
Article by Isa A.
Art by Katrina
Isa A. is a 17-year-old who should be figuring things out and making them work but is procrastinating big time by watching Ancient Aliens, drinking caffeinated drinks and getting lost in her current obsessions.
Katrina's biggest life goals include becoming a mermaid, and figuring out how many cupcakes she can eat without gaining weight. You can follow her on Twitter or Instagram at @kkotrono.
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