Patience's POV

"Patience Mostorna." Greene Dirkman called into the microphone. People pushed on me from behind, but I couldn't bring my legs to move. The only thought running through my head was, go! I couldn't think straight. I have been reaped for the 74th Huger Games.

I forced myself to walk onto the stage. "The male tribute for district 10 is... Ferrera Goryol." Greene said, and a tall, lanky boy with messy brown hair and deep brown eyes approached the stage. He looked at me for a second, sizing me up I guess. There wasn't much to look at. I am short, small, and not that muscular. My most 'dazzling' feature would probably be my emerald green eyes, or so people have told me. My hair is frizzy, surrounding my head in a shaggy mane. He probably thinks I won't last a second in the arena.

But, I know I will. I am not counting on winning, nor do I believe I will make it home to see my older sister, who is 17, or my father. My saving grace in this battle will be a bow. I will need one, and if I get it, people will go down.

"Ferrera." He said, and stuck his hand out. I looked up at him, considering he towers over me, and smiled, a big, fake smile.

"Patience." I replied, and turned back toward the audience. We both stood in front of the roaring audience, then we were whisked off to the Justice Building.

Within minutes we were in separate rooms, awaiting our families. A knock at the door startled me, but I didn't have to open it, and my father, with my sister, entered the room. "Nenci!" He called when the door was closed.

I smiled, and he sat next to me on the couch. "Patience," My sister started, "Try to come home." Her face was pained, and streaked with regret and worry. "Why didn't I take your place?" She asked, more to herself than us.

I patted her back, though it was odd because she was older. "Mom wouldn't want you to regret." She nodded, but it was half-hearted. I was just glad I was the youngest, so there wouldn't be anyone that couldn't look after themselves, should anything happen to me.

"Five minutes." A peacekeeper hollered from outside the door. Time really does pass faster than you would think.

"Dad, don't worry, I'll try to make as far through as I can go. No stupid choices. No bloodbath. Bye." I said, ushering them out of the door. Soon enough Ferrera and I would be headed to the Capitol.

Celeste's POV

I remember one thing vividly about this reaping. Through all the tensions and the pounding of my blood in my ears, I had heard my name called. My name.

"Celeste Tolva!" Some idiotic Capitol woman cried into the microphone, making the speakers crack with the volume of her already hideous voice. I smirked and made my way from the sixteen year old section, to the middle of the stage, where my smile became even more deadly, when I showed some of my teeth.

I glanced at myself in the screen, my turquoise eyes were glinting with bloodlust, and I looked like I was baring my teeth, rather than smiling. Perfect. I thought darkly. My brown hair really looked red that day, and my blood red dress helped perfectly with that. Overall, I was beautifully deadly.

Finnick Odair, who would be Mentor, would be impressed. I might just let some of my secrets slip to that man if I can get him alone.

"Boys, it's your turn!" The silly Capitol woman, whom I think is named Pippa, called cheerily, though looking somewhat unnerved by the glare I sent her way.

"Why bother? I'm only going to kill him anyway." That sent a chorus of ooohs throughout the audience. I was pretty sure that a crapload of sponsors were already considering me. Cocky, overzealous, intimidating, and sexy.

"Marcus Smee." Pippa manages to choke out, in her obvious discomfort, even though the whole audience was clapping, and Finnick Odair was sizing me up, like he had underestimated me or something. As if. I caught his eye and winked, and he smirked. Oooh….he like.

Then, I turned my attention to the audience, which was splitting for who must be Marcus. He had a thin face, and dull blue eyes, and even duller blonde hair. The one good thing is that he is tall, and has some muscle. I'm five feet, five inches tall, and he was a good foot taller than me. He could have been intimidating if you beefed him up a bit.

I then found myself glaring at him with all of my might, and I saw Finnick gawk at me out of the corner of my eye. This caused another smirk to creep onto my face, and Marcus visibly paled. I permitted myself a small, demonic sounding chuckle.

"Alright Tributes…shake hands." Pippa squeaked, and that's when I made the choice to start calling her Pipsqueak. I reached forward and met Marcus's outstretched hand. While we shook our hands, I kept squeezing his hand, until you could see the muscles in my arm pop out, and then there was satisfying crack! And, Marcus pulled away, rubbing his broken hand, and trying not to let the tears pooling in his eyes run down his face.

The audience roared, and started chanting my name.

"Celeste! Celeste!" I looked over the crowd, and lifted my head, smiling a dangerously triumphant smile. I am the Winner of the 74th Hunger Games.

Marcus and I were taken away to the Justice Building. I refused to see anyone. I didn't need anyone. Pippa had tried to convince me to see at least my parents. She had ended up with a wad of spit in her face. Said wad of spit had come from my mouth. This had caused her to go into hysterics, crying about what a brat I was, and that she knew I wouldn't last long with an attitude like that.

I had then launched myself at her, screaming obscenities at her, and kicking and punching every inch of her Capitol skin I could see. Eventually, the Peacekeepers had yanked me off her, and Finnick had slapped me across the face to snap me back into reality.

"Save it for the Arena, Celeste." He purred, before running his thumb down my stinging cheek, giving me one last look, and heading off down the hall, where I knew the reporters and paparazzi would be waiting. I was almost there. I could almost taste it. The fame. The fortune. The men.

Oh, Finnick will not be disappointed.

Cato's POV

Clove should arrive soon. She wanted me to meet her in our cave. We had been going there since we were ten. We had been best friends since we were six. Let's just hope we don't end up killing each other. That wouldn't exactly be ever inour favor.

"Cato!" Clove's unforgettable voice called. I stood up to address her about her late coming, but a loud gong blared. Time for the reaping. "Cato, c'mon. Let's just get there. We'll let the 'odds' take it from there." Clove said when I met up with her, in a mimic of Haret, the girl who chooses the names from the reaping ball. She wasn't half bad at it.

"Whatever." I said, but it had a sad, twisted ring to it. I liked it. Vicious. Within minutes we were within the town square, and two huge reaping balls sat on a stage ahead of us.

"Happy Hunger Games! May the odds be ever in your favor!" Haret called. She had a nasally voice that was quite annoying after a moment. She reached her hand down into the girls' reaping ball, and pulled out a name. "The female tribute is... Clove Salvinya."

Clove smiled and moved a strand of her chocolate brown hair out of her equally brown eyes as she walked up to the stage. She wasn't dressed in exactly reaping material. Rather, she was in her signature ripped skinny jeans, and dark forest green tank top that had tears in the middle, which showed off her perfectly sculpted stomach. She smiled happily, and looked at me, and then at the audience.

"Rock out, beotches!" She yelled, giving the audience the "Rock Out" sign. I chuckled. That's my Clover for you.

After a moment of applause the audience died down, and Haret reached her hand in the boys' ball, I almost completely forgot about what had just happened with Clove "The male tribute will be... Domonic Caster." I could barely hear as my hand shot up. Blood was pumping in my ears. My mindset was getting settled into that sadistic mode, and it felt good.

"I'll go! I'll take his place!" I called after a moment of confused silence. Domonic was ushered off, and I was pushed on. I shook those pushing idiots off me, and I sauntered up to the stage, and straightening my black shirt and black jeans as I did so. I mussed my blonde hair with my left hand as I made it onto the stage next to Clove.

"Then the male tribute is Cato Frinte." Haret said quickly, covering up for a moment ago. Those Capitol people were so odd.

Clove smiled at me as I took my place. We shook hands, but it was impersonal, and useless. Her eyes held a playful, yet deadly tone that said let's do this. I nodded. We would take this city by storm.

I took a quick look at the screen. I looked monstrous, my ice blue eyes piercing, and Clove looked, I have to admit it, beautiful. Her brown eyes shone happily, and that made everything about her glow.

Suddenly I became aware of the bloodlust in my eyes. Suddenly I became aware of who I wanted to do this as. The sad, twisted one. Not far my own personality. Just, worse. Much worse.

We met up with our families, had a brief conversation, and left for the Capitol. We did not have to do much the rest of the day, but we became acquainted with our mentor.

Clove's POV

Our mentor just so happened to be Enobaria, the craziest Victor in the history of the Hunger Games. She had actually ripped the throats out of her competitors in her Hunger Games…with her teeth. Insane, I know. She was okay, I guess, but she was a little creepy, even for me, the girl who enjoys watching guys' balls get torched and shoved down their throats.

I turned to Cato, who was standing next to me by the window as we watched the Districts fly by. As of late I'd been having this weird feeling in the pit of my stomach whenever I was around Cato. I was hoping that it wasn't a classic case of "girl falls for best friend."

"Uhm…Cato. Can I ask you a question?" I asked, my voice shaking. The logical part of my mind was screaming at me, What are you doing, you foolish wench?

"Yeah, sure. Shoot." Cato was oblivious to my inner turmoil. He looked over at me, and turned to face me, his face curious, his body close enough that I could feel the heat emanating off it.

I gulped, and I could feel a light blush seep through my skin. But, at the last second I changed my question, making it not as forward.

"If it was a life or death situation, would you kiss me?" I murmured, dropping my gaze from his. I had no idea what he was going to do, that's why I was scared crapless. He sounded really distracted when he spoke.

"We'll cross that bridge when we get to it." And then he practically bolted out of the hallway and into his room. I sighed, and went to my own room. I quietly shut the door, and backed up onto it.

"I can't get more attached than I already am. It'll make it even harder to kill him, Clove! Snap out of it!" I mumbled to myself, clutching my temples. And, then I started to sob. I didn't want to kill my best friend. I really did not. I slid down the door, this horrible, strangled sound coming out of me. "I can't kill him….I just can't."

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