A/N- All characters and settings belong to Suzanne Collins, author of the renowned Hunger Games Trilogy.

Setting/Time-Reaping for the 70th Annual Hunger Games. Capitol and District 4.

Characters-Finnick Odair, Annie Cresta, Mags, Johanna, Cashmere, President Snow.

Off to the Reaping.

'So, what plans do you have for me? Naked again?'

~Finnick Odair.

Drinking my champagne elegantly isn't the only thing I've learnt in my years at the Capitol. And even when I do so, it helps me remind myself of the things I have learnt.

Trusting no one, being one of them.

Casually, I slipped a few pills in my glass full with the glorious red liquid. That'd dilute it. An unnatural color that hides an unnatural poison. Sure enough, the guy next to me dropped dead. People crowded around him, lifting him up, checking his pulse. No use, I thought. I couldn't even warn him. He had taken the champagne before anyone. But no, President Snow goes on to explain how his heart had always been weak.

Lies.

Hah, how I love them.

He looked at me, perhaps expecting me to drop dead too. I smirked at him and waved casually. You don't bring down Finnick Odair with one drink. It's insane to even think like that.

He nodded.

Well, that means I'm not allowed to breathe a word about it. And that he owes me.

Great, I can spend the next 'party' without him breathing down my neck.

If I do tell on him, he might just drop something into Mags' drink. Since she's the only family I've got, I'd rather not do that.

Being a victor is not as all as it is cracked up to be. If you play your cards right, well, maybe you'll survive.

Hunger Games don't end in the stupid Arena. Not for us anyways.

'So, you're mentoring, right?' I said to Johanna. She just smiled, which is you know, strange for her.

'Yeah, Odair. No one else feels up to it anyways.'

'I'm not though; Crystal and Silk are doing it this year. I need a break.' Cashmere sighed and emptied the last of her drink into the dustbin very discreetly.

'We all do. But the others are not willing. You're lucky to have such compromising Victors.' I said.

She tipped her head back and laughed. Her blond hair curled up gracefully down her tanned back and she gave me a very pretty smile, though, the sarcasm was quite evident.

'My dear Finnick, there is no such thing as compromising Victors!' She tapped me on my shoulder and then disappeared through the crowd.

'Well, that proves it. She's high.' Johanna said.

I shrugged. I had known these girls since all my years at the Capitol. They were the only ones who hadn't tried to seduce me. I took that as a good sign.

'You know what; let's leave before they offer us a stand.' she whispered.

'Okay.' I said. I was definitely not in the mood for a stand. Secrets or no secrets, those stands were just gross.

When I turned sixteen I learnt about the various plans President Snow had in mind for me. Let's just say, I was made into an item to fondle with. I'll leave the rest to your imagination.

She held my hand and squeezed it lightly. Her reassuring grasp was quite, well, reassuring. We then managed to sneak out. I saw her bribe a Peacekeeper with her diamond ring, given to her by some estranged lover. The guard grunted. Well, sign for us to get tickets for the train.

I saw Mags already seated inside the train. Heaving a sigh of relief, I seated myself beside her and waited for Johanna. Safe at last, from the savage Capitol, we headed towards our respective Districts.

It'll be alright, Johanna mouthed. I nodded and fell asleep.

Even in my dreams, the odds were never in my favor.

Getting down at the station and coming to Four was always a heart breaking task. It's really not wise to cry in front of the people you've known all your life. They anyways think you've lost it since your reaping.

It was fine at first. I still had a family back then. Now, it's no use coming here, except for the fact that it's safer. On the physical front of course, not the mental.

Anyways, I had to be there for the reaping, like I always have to. Mags gives me an encouraging nod and we walk into the District. Girls whisper and giggle, pointing at me and practically swooning.

I ignore them and move on. My broody mood not getting any better as I round up near my house. It's not exactly one, though. The Victor's Village is creepy and brings back many unwanted memories. Though, I think its okay to stay for a few hours anyway.

I dunk all my stuff on the bed, already made up and ready. My Prep Team would be there in a minute, grooming me, applying makeup. And I thought only girls had to apply crap on their faces.

A shower later, I re-entered my room to find my team sitting ready to attack me.

'Woah, do you guys mind knocking before entering? I could've been naked!'

'Like we haven't seen that.' Trisha, my stylist, winked at me and I rolled my eyes. Trisha was a friendly person but just like other stylists, her ludicrous dress up was completely appaling. I don't ever mention it to her, anyways, that'd seem harsh. Plus, she's the one who's given me the 'sexy' image. That made me very popular.

'So, what plans do you have for me? Naked again?'

'Why don't you put on this tux, yeah?' Trisha frowned 'And stop getting on my nerves?'

'Alrighty.' I said.

An hour later, I had been scrubbed, cleaned, beautified (very manly) and even manicured.

I'm a guy for crying out loud.

Then we marched out of the house towards the Justice Building. People were whispering anxiously among one another, betting on whose name was going to be drawn out.

It's an achievement here to be picked for the Games. If only they knew what happened inside the Arena, or better still, inside the mind of the Tributes fighting to death.

Your will to survive makes you kill others. And do what you will; the memories will always haunt you.

I took my seat on the well-crafted stage and took a deep breath.

The usual video started about how we were doing this for the wonderful Capitol, how we should be grateful to it, kill ourselves, blaah blaah blaah.

Fennika Tuscan, the famous Capitol celebrity pulled out a chit from a glass bowl.

'Annie Cresta!' she called out.

The name didn't ring a bell, but her face looked familiar. With long, dark, wavy hair and a tall, slim stature, she would have been pretty, were it not for the dark pallor on her face. She stood beside me, her hands shaking. I saw that she was no older than seventeen. I grasped her hand, taking her by surprise. She glared at me and I let her be.

So much for being a sexy guy. I can't even calm a decent girl.

'Patrick Stanley.' She called out again. A short stature, red head and green eyes came into view.

Oh look, I'm supposed to train them to kill each other. Some team spirit I'll instill in them, huh?

'May the odds, be ever in your favour!'

Yeah, right.

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