The wind outside whooshed loudly and quickly, causing the branches of a nearby tree to scrape against the old windows. Forty-five minutes until her shift was over, which meant freedom for most people but not for Angora. She was going to have chilly walk home and she was sure that there would be unwanted guests visiting. There always was. But she was going to try and not let that bother her today, for there was already too much on her mind. It was that time of year where everything made her stomach turned, anxiety constantly hung in the air and just about everyone was on edge. The Reaping was fast approaching and being that she was 17, it meant she had another year. Another year of potentially getting picked to be thrown into a gauntlet of blood and death. She already knew her name was going to be there, a lot – due to her age and the fact she was trading with peacekeepers. Sometimes hunger makes you do crazy things, even if it is to help your family survive.

Her emerald eyes carefully watched the fabric that she was feeding into a large, industrial machine. Working at the factory was a privilege for the people of district 8. Sure, you could be a tailor/seamstress out of your home, but if you were mediocre, no one was going to visit you. The only way you could get a decent job at the factory was if you knew someone who had worked there or you were just lucky enough to get hired. Angora, thankfully, knew two important people in the district – both of which were her parents. Her mother is an experienced seamstress. So experienced, in fact, that peacekeepers often come to the house and have her personally fix or make their uniforms. Of course, that's mainly the factories job but some peacekeepers are very particular about their uniforms, especially the head peacekeeper. Angora couldn't stand the sight of him, but he always paid in advance for his crisp, clean, white uniforms. She knew to bite her tongue, for she didn't want to be the reason that her family was shunned. Her father used to work as a warehouse manager, until his 'accident.' It was up to her mother and she to make up for the money her father lost. She never blamed him though. He did what he had to do.

"There's gotta be more to life, than chasin' down every temporary high…" She sang as soft as she could. With the roar of the machines, it wasn't as quiet as she had thought. Her ears pricked up at the sound of a 'tsk' behind her. Angora spun around, expecting to see her supervisor. She had almost braced herself for the slew of angry words that were headed her way but instead, she saw a familiar face.

"You shouldn't be singing things like that, girl. They're going to hear you one of these days."

"I know, Bobbi."

Bobbinet, or Bobbi as she was better known as, was an older woman with graying hair. She had been working at the factory for years as a weaver and was a good friend of Angora's mother. A small smile pulled at her cracked lips. She had taken Angora under her wing when Angora had first started working. "I will say though, you have a beautiful voice. Too bad no one will be able to hear it."

Angora frowned at Bobbi's words but she knew it was true. The famous people were the champions of the hunger games. No one cared about the peons in the districts that were starving, sick or scraping to get by. To the Capitol, the districts were nothing more than work mules, catering to them at all times. Giving them whatever their selfish hearts desired, whether it was gems, luscious houses, extraordinary technology or a sweater that they saw President Snow wear that one time during a meaningless speech.

She let out a sigh before she went back to work. Bobbi patted her on the shoulder before walking back to her station. Angora watched the sea of deep purple fabric weave in and out of the rollers. More clothes for the Capitol, it seemed. She wanted to roll her eyes at it, but it wouldn't have done any good. The fabric was still going to be made into fancy dresses, shirts, even pants – whether she liked it or not. It seemed like time had sped forward, what seemed like five minutes must have been forty-five minutes because the bell rang, signaling it was time for this shift to leave. Angora flipped the switch on her machine. Her hand dragged across it, as she walked towards the exit. Bobbi smiled at her, as she waited at the door for her. She always walked with Angora at the end of the day. She didn't live far from the factory but Angora enjoyed the company.

"So, I hear there's a new peacekeeper around. Velvet was talking about it with the supervisor." Angora turned to look at her for a moment. She didn't say anything as she turned her face forward again and continued to walk straight. A new peacekeeper? Like they didn't have enough of those tyrants roaming around. "Maybe they'll go see your mama and put in a big order."

"I hope not. That means I have to do twice the work and still manage my schoolwork." Angora finally spoke up. She could only hope that this new peacekeeper would keep his or her distance. The last thing she wanted was another client coming into her home. Every time they came to get a uniform, Angora knew her family was under scrutiny. Her mother always made sure that the uniforms were perfect. No holes, no discoloration, no runs in the fabric, no miscalculations on size or length. Completely perfect. Her family didn't need any more black clouds hanging over them; one was enough for a lifetime. Or maybe two. Having even the slightest hardship in the districts was asking for a death sentence. She really know how things worked in the other districts but Angora knew that in district eight, if you have a black mark on your name, you were just asking to be shunned by the community. No one wanted to be associated with the beggars – the people who could not find a job and often sat around, hoping for someone to show them some mercy. The problem was, was that no one could give them any mercy, even if they wanted to. If you were seen helping out someone who was living on the street, the peacekeepers took care of you. And not in the good way. It was in your best interest to just ignore them.

It took the woman about seven minutes to reach Angora's home. Angora took a deep breath before walking towards the door. She placed her hand onto the handle and turned it. Behind her, Bobbi wished her luck before going on her way. Hushed voices could be heard inside, which could only mean one thing. With a big sigh, she opened the door and looked at the scene inside. Leaning against a beam in the middle of the room, stood a peacekeeper in a gleaming white uniform. Angora gave him the once over. She had seen him before. He was a regular customer of her mothers. He turned his head and peered at her for a moment before turning his attention back to Angora's mother and an unknown man. Angora's mother lifted her head and met the confused look of her daughter. A smile slide across her face. "Hello sweetheart. We have guests."

"…Yeah, I can see that." She tried to hide the annoyance in her voice, but she failed. The unknown man turned towards her. His clothes were normal, not those of a peacekeeper. Her eyes scanned him. He was tall, probably a little over six feet. His eyes and hair were brown. He looked sculpted. It was his body that gave him away. Not many men in the district were ripped like this guy was. He was clearly the new peacekeeper that Bobbi had mentioned.

The muscles in his chest and arms flexed when she lifted his arms over his head and placed his hands onto a beam above him. The familiar peacekeeper, whose name escaped Angora, pushed off against the beam he was leaning on. He seemed to ignore Angora's insolence, as he spoke to her mother. "Deimos needs his uniform ASAP. He was supposed to have it today but that peasant down the road clearly doesn't know what he is doing," he spit on the ground before continuing. "He calls himself a tailor? Pitiful. An elderly woman recommended you to us. Once I spoke with our head peacekeeper, he agreed that you were the best. Hopefully, you can fix the mess that man made."

Always the picture of perfect grace and manners, her mother smiled brightly. "Of course I can. I'll have it done in a few hours."

"Have it done in two. Deimos, let's move out. I have things that need to be done and things you need to see."

Angora's mother walked them out and cheerfully said goodbye. Once she closed the door, she pressed her back to it and sighed. Angora looked at her and frowned. Before her mother even asked, she picked up a piece of paper that had the new guy's measurements and got to work. Two hours was not enough time to completely rip apart and fix a peacekeeper uniform. According to her mother's notes, everything was too short and the pants were too tight. More fabric had to be added to everything and they both knew how long it was going to take. However, they didn't have the luxury of time. Her mother opened a rickety closet door and pulled out a large bolt of fabric. It was the same fabric that was used for all peacekeeper uniforms.

"We might as well start new. No point in trying to add fabric to that mangled mess."

"That's going to take longer! We only have two hours, mom!"

"Relax, dear. We'll be fine; we just have to move fast."

Angora rolled her eyes without a second thought. She grabbed the cut outs of the uniform and began quickly cutting fabric. Working at the factory had its benefits when you had to make a uniform in a hurry. She lost herself in her task and once the two hours was up, they actually had a finished uniform. Her mother was looking over for any imperfections as the two peacekeepers busted into the house. No knocking or anything. They just burst through the door like they owned the place. Angora stood up and moved next to her mother. The uniform was hanging off the beam that one peacekeeper had previously had his hands on. They both looked over the uniform, looking for anything that may be out of place. Too bad, they wouldn't find anything – Angora's mother had already looked it over with a fine tooth comb.

"What do you think, Deimos? Look good?"

The tall, brown haired guy tilted his head to the side. He looked like such an arrogant ass, Angora just wanted to hit him upside the head with the sewing machine. "Looks great, actually. Can I try it on?"

Angora's mother ushered him into a small room and shut the door behind her. It took a few moments before he came out in his uniform. It fit like a glove. The pants were tight to his skin, the way they were supposed to be. Almost like they were painted on, but with enough movement as to not hinder his 'peacekeeping.' The breast plate fit perfectly, as did the shirt underneath it. The look on his face said that he was pleased with the outfit. "Nice work, seamstress."

And that was it. They were gone a few seconds after they thanked Angora's mother. Her bright green eyes turned dark as she turned and looked at the matriarch of the family. "…Did they not pay for that uniform?"

Her mother merely shrugged. "It's fine. Next time."

"No. Mom, you can't just let them leave without paying. We need to buy food and textiles and dad needs more medicine."

"I know, sweetheart, but I can't run after them and demand that they pay either. Don't forget that they're peacekeepers and their word is law around here."

It seemed to Angora that all she was doing was sighing today as she let another slip. Her gaze met the ceiling and she shook her head. She didn't get paid until the end of the week and she knew it wasn't going to be much. Her father need more pain medication and they also needed more food. She bit lip, trying to think of something she could do but it looked dismal. The pain her father endured daily was awful. He could hardly walk without that medication, at least until he was fully healed. She didn't want her father to suffer but from the looks of it, he was going to have to. Unless, of course, she could pull some strings.

There was nothing else she could do for tonight, so she grabbed her bag off the floor and walked into her bedroom. Plopping down on her bed, she began to pull out the schoolwork she still needed to finish. The sun was starting to go down and that meant that she was going to have to work by candlelight. Today turned into the day from hell and Angora just couldn't wait for it to be over. She cracked open the first book and began reading.

X-X-X

The light of early dawn broke through Angora's window and cast itself right into her eyes. She wrinkled her nose at the annoyance and rolled onto her side. Today was a day off. A day off from the factory and from school, much to her relief. For the past two days, she's worked and learned and tried to stop thinking about the peacekeepers not paying her mother for her labor. No matter what she did, her mind kept going back to the moment where they just walked out. As much as she hated her mothers other clients, they at least paid her. This new level of douchebaggery really got under her skin. It was bad enough that they tarnished the tailor from down the street but then they went a step farther and snubbed her family.

After a few minutes of unsuccessfully going back to sleep, she got out of bed and got dressed. Angora walked downstairs to find a peacekeeper in the kitchen, getting measurements taken. Angora just walked by the two of them, as her mother wished her a good morning. The peacekeeper, naturally, didn't say a word to her. Instead, gave her a look of disdain. Angora left the small, almost dilapidated house and began walking around town. There wasn't a whole lot to do, especially since she hasn't gotten paid by the factory yet. She kicked at some rocks as she walked past small, broken down shops and the apothecary where she got her father's pain medicine. The woman who sells the herbs smiled politely at her. "Angora, picking up your fathers things?"

"No, I don't have the money for it this week." She said it with obvious sadness. The woman – Velour was her name, walked into her house for a moment. When she reemerged, she stepped off her stoop and walked towards Angora. Angora raised an eyebrow at her, then Velour placed a small bag into her hand.

"Take it. Don't worry about payment."

"I-I can't take this."

"Yes, you can. Your father needs it. He's a good man and I know you'll pay me back. You're a great kid, Angora." Her smile was kind and it killed Angora. People in the district tried to help each other out the best they could, because everyone was struggling one way or another. However, Angora never saw kindness to this extent. It was rare for someone to just give away their goods in the hopes of payment at a later date. Of course, Angora knew she was going to pay her back but what if she was one of the people that took good deeds for granted? How could Velour put her trust into people? Angora sure as hell didn't trust anyone.

The bag bounced around Angora's pocket. Perhaps an hour of walking around the district was enough for the day. She would probably start her trek home and read something, or take a nap. She turned on her heel, to start her way back home when she saw him. It was one of the peacekeepers from the other day. Nervously, she bit at her bottom lip. She took a step forward then stopped. What was she doing? Was she insane? Maybe. But Angora felt she had no other option. She figured she would just go for it. Swallow all pride and do it. She took a jog towards the peacekeeper. "Excuse me..?"

He turned, confusion on his face. How dare a peasant speak to him. He stared at Angora, a hint of disgust on his face. "What?"

"You were at my house the other day and didn't pay for the uniform."

The peacekeeper in question stared at her for a moment before letting out a thunderous laugh. "Are you joking? Get lost."

He began to walk away from her, still shaking with laughter. She saw him shake his head and some say unintelligible. She furrowed her brow and ran after him. His laughter didn't discourage her as much as it pissed her off. "Hey! Stop!"

She was playing with fire and she knew it, but she didn't care. There had to be some sort of justice in this awful world. He stopped again and turned towards her. This time his face was full of hate and anger. Angora stopped in front of him. The only thing she could really do, without getting beat down was plead with him. Even if he chose not to pay, which she figured he would, the worst he could do is walk away. "Please, there's things we really need to get. I'll do anything…"

The peacekeeper raised his brow and smirked. "Anything, huh?"

"…Anything." She didn't like the way he asked her the question. She didn't like that look on his face. However, she was in the position to argue.

He looked around him, making sure the coast was clear. Lucky for him, no one was around. The area he had been walking into was mostly deserted, save for a stray cat or dog. He grabbed Angora's waist, quickly turned her toward the nearest wall and slammed her up against it. She squeaked out a cry that no one would hear. "Shouldn't have said that. That uniform is quite costly…"

One of his gloved hands moved down her side and over the top of her thigh. Slowly, he moved to her inner thigh and brought his fingers up, hovering just under her skirt. Angora swallowed hard, knowing that she couldn't fight back. The peacekeepers, knowing she wouldn't do anything, moved the other hand that was still holding her waist and clamped it down onto her neck. She squirmed a bit, as tears pooled in her eyes. How did she allow herself to get into this position? To become some sex object for this disgusting creature of the Capitol? She felt him move his hand closer to her womanhood, causing her to squirm more.

"Blaze! Back of off her, now!" The peacekeeper who held her to the wall, snapped his head to the side. He abruptly let Angora go and she crumpled to the floor. The tears that threatened to spill from her eyes, now betraying her. Blaze, the peacekeeper scum, moved back, his hands in the air.

"What do you think you're doing?"