Katniss' POV:

I fidgeted in my seat. I hated crowded places on good days. On bad days, I despised them. This, was defiantly a bad day. The reaping. Yeah, well, Prim was only in twice, the bare minimum for her age group, so much good that did her last year. Only now I can't volunteer for her anymore. Because I'm a victor. What an honor. I did the best job of killing innocent children. Only, once again, it wasn't Prim I was concerned about. This time, it was my best friend. The one who would have taken care of my sister had I been killed in the bloody onslaught of the Hunger Games. Gale.

President Snow's personal threat still lingered in my mind.

"You know, I can't just let you go, but there is some one I can think of who may be draw at the reaping this year, without anyone thinking a thing of it,"

Prim would be too big of a coincidence, and would surely cause uprisings, like in district 11. The only other person I care about enough is...

"You think you're doing your little star crossed lovers act any good sneaking off into the woods with him every week?"

Yes. It would be Gale. Who has had the odds staked against him his whole life. Who is already taking the maximum reaping in the last year of his eligibility in the Hunger Games. Who is the only person on earth aside from Prim who I would have even considered volunteering for. That is, if I could have.

"Welcome and Happy Hunger Games," Effie Trinket's trill snaps me back to the present.

I'm sitting onstage in front of the whole district, between Effie's empty chair and Haymitch.

Gale looks up to me and out eyes meet, he flashes me a smile of encouragement that I can't return, because I know what is going to happen.

I twitch again in my seat and look down at my hands. I'm in a similar dress as last year, only now it is a deep maroon with golden flecks scattered throughout it. It doesn't burst into flames when I start spinning like some of Cina's designs, but it has a nice elegance, while still holding onto my 'girl on fire' theme. A type of symbolism I suppose, that I stood here last year, and survived, a stronger person because of it.

"And now for the boys'" Effie announces. I had completely missed the girls reaping. I glance to the small stature of a young girl standing next to Effie. She is, quite litearly, shaking in her boots. Small sniffling and sobbing sounds emanated from her. It was obvious by her clothes and general appearance that she was from the Seam. Typical dark hair, olive skin, hollow features and knobby joints from lack of food. As expected from a system worked out in favor of the rich.

Effie's hand fished around in the glass orb for several seconds until she settled on one paper and drew it out. It wouldn't matter what she had picked, every last name in that bowl was the same.

She stepped back to the microphone in her spiked heels and unfolded it.

"Gale Hawthorne," She announces.

Our eyes meet again, only this time, his aren't encouraging. They are solid. His character mask in just as good as mine. It doesn't matter what you really feel, what matters is what they think you feel.

The crowd is completely silent. They recognize the message this is meant to send. A public display that if you defy the Capitol, you will pay. Me as the example.

He steps up to the aisle and is escorted the rest of the way to the stage. He takes his spot next to Effie and stares off into the distance. I notice his eyes flicker to the screens with his face flashing across them, and the short lived flash of pleasure when he sees how well he is masking his emotions. The same I did this time a year ago.

This reminds me of what else happened to me a year ago and I rise to my feet, press the three middle fingers of my left hand to my lips and hold them to the sky in his direction. He notices this gesture in the cameras and bites his bottom lip.

At first it looks as if no one will follow. That they expect me to detonate before their very eyes. Then, Prim steps out of the rows, into the aisle, holding Posy by the hand, and presses her fingers to the sky. Then Rory does the same with Vick, and Madge steps up to do the same. Others seem to recognize what happened last time this gesture was offered and shrink back into their rows, but us six stand, unfazed by the threat that we are knowingly invoking.

I drop my hand and take my seat, Prim, Posy, Rory, Vick, and Madge do the same.

"Well then... Time for the treaty of treason I suppose," Effie stutters.

It just passes. I can't think about it anymore than that for fear of crying. I sit in the dinning cart of the train, waiting for him to finish saying good bye to his family.

"What an interesting batch this year, that girl... she won't make it, but that young man, he has a chance at it now doesn't he," Effie rambles.

"Gale, his name is Gale," I glare at her, practically spitting the words.

I slam my glass onto the table and make my way to the cart the tributes will enter through.

"Hmph, nice, that kids her best friend ya' know," Haymitch chuckles on my way out.

I pace back and forth in the entrance for a few moments until I collapse against a wall. I lean forwards, my head in my hands, elbows rested on the wooden paneling.

DAMN IT! I think, sending a fist into the wall. It shakes the whole car and sends me into a frenzy of emotions, before I settle on determined. Determined that Gale will be the victor. Every thing in the world will be stacked against him. President Snow will have given specific demands to make sure he didn't survive. But, if I have anything to do with it he will. He will be victor.