Thweet! Thweet! The whistle sounded throughout the train car, informing the passengers that they had arrived at their destination.

Plop! A blanket covered lump hit the mahogany floor of the train.

"Ow! Shit!" Kurt threw off the blankets in frustration. His right hand darted to the new bump on his head. What a great way to start the day, he thought.

As he regained his bearings, Kurt came to a realization. We're here. Rushing to get out of his cabin, he quickly threw on a gray short-sleeved shirt and replaced his shorts with a clean pair of pants. He sprinted out of his room, and for the second time this morning, hurt himself, this time by running straight into the frame of the door. He let out another yelp of pain.

Selena was staring at him from across the hallway, smirking. "Try not to kill yourself before we even get off the damned train," she slyly remarked. "I don't think the Capitol would be very happy if one of their tributes showed up in a body bag."

"One would think that after thirteen years of your snide remarks, you would get tired of it," he told her.

"Nope." Clearly Kurt's shoddy attempt to stop his twin sister's stupid teasing at bay fell flat on its face.

Together, they walked to the living area of District 11's train car. One by one, the remaining District 11 tributes trickled in. Joan, Brendan, Stacy, Kenneth. They sat around for a while, discussing their nervousness and worries about how the day would commence.

"I wonder what we'll be doing here," Kurt said, curled up in a lime green armchair.

Joan started, "Well, I bet we-"

"Get your asses over here!" Harris interrupted. "Line up in twos, guys to the left and girls to the right. We're getting off the train now." The District 11 mentor herded his tributes to the exit.

Brendan and Joan lined up next to each other, behind them Kurt and Selena, and trailing at the end were Kenneth and Stacy. The door swung open, and they paraded meticulously, two by two, down the steps leading off the train.

They were greeted by a reception of people on the train platform. All 10 other districts had already arrived, along with their team of stylists and mentors. There were Capitol officials throughout the throng, ushering people to keep the districts segregated.

"Watch what you say around here," Harris whispered to them. "Don't say anything you wouldn't say to Snow's face. You never know who's listening."

As if on cue, President Snow cleared his throat, loudly enough to call for everyone's attention. I can't believe that fat bastard's still alive, thought Kurt.

"You all know why you are here," Snow began, "but let me reiterate." His double chin wobbled back and forth as he spoke, like the wattle of a rooster when it clucks. "Three boys and three girls have been taken from each district. You will stay here until you are 18 years of age, after which you will return home. Every year a boy and a girl will be drawn to compete in the year's Hunger Games. If they win, they will return to the training facility, where they will continue until they are 18."

Snow then launched in to a seemingly never-ending speech that advocated his the Games' new form, and explained that the Hunger Games prior to the second Rebellion were not sufficient punishment for the districts, and how this punishment would finally put the rebellion throughout Panem to rest. Kurt was too nervous about how the rest of the day would commence to pay any heed to the president's rambling.

"Well," President Snow finally concluded, "I have consumed enough of your time; you will be shown to your quarters now."

A Capitol guard led them through a series of hallways, some of which were more expansive than houses in their home district, until District 11's tributes finally made it to their hallway, with a big 11 delicately carved into the wall at the entrance. On one side of the hallway was the boys' dorm, and directly across was the girls'. Down the hallway was their bathroom.

In their respective dormitories, there were three beds, as well as three chairs, warmed by the sunlight shining through the window. Their accommodations were surprisingly welcoming, and although not large, the size was adequate to house the three of them. There was a table with a lamp resting on it between two of the chairs, on which there was also a note:

Tributes,

There are clothes under each one of your beds. From now on, you will wear these from this point forward. The clothes you are currently wearing shall be disposed of. Once you finish changing, follow the hallway straight, and you will come to the dining hall. You will be served dinner and then return to your dormitory.

They looked under each bed until they found the correctly sized clothing, which they promptly changed into. Each garment was adorned with the number eleven in some way; on the pants it was right below the waist, on the jackets it was on the back, and on the shirts it read ELEVEN across the chest. They actually found the clothes comfortable. They exited their room, and followed the letter's directions until they came upon the dining hall.

It was a relatively large room, in which twelve tables sat. The tables already had a plate of food placed at each of the six seats. One table was significantly bigger; the mentors ate there.

The boys found their companions sitting at one of the tables close to the largest window in the room, and sat next to them.

At their first meal, the tributes did not share much conversation; they all hungrily dug into their food, alleviating their hunger caused by having not eaten since before Snow's speech. The food was not great, but it was edible, and there was an infinite supply of it.

After a while of eating, a purple-haired man stood up from the mentors' table. He looked to be about forty years of age. "Excuse me." He broke through the existing conversations throughout the room, bringing upon it a deathly silence. Once he had attained everyone's attention, he introduced himself. "I am Lucio, the head of this academy, and the newly appointed Games Master. You have exactly forty-five days until the 96th Hunger Games." He gestured to a giant sign on the wall opposite the door, which read HUNGER GAMES IN 45 DAYS! "Five days prior, the two names from your district will be drawn. You will each have a schedule for your district sent to your dorms tomorrow morning. But I won't hold you here any longer. Now you should all go back to your rooms, I'm sure you are all tired."

Author's Note: I know the chapter was kind of boring, but I just needed to get all the information in there. I promise the next chapter will be far more interesting.