A/N I'm messing about with Alternate Universes, the idea of putting characters in different worlds. Has been a while since I have read The Hunger Games, but I hope that this fan fiction isn't too bad.


I remember that the first thing I notice as I wake up is the sun, I could see it leaking out from the edges of my blind that covered the window. It must have been the first time I had seen the sun since the start of the year. It was April. It was cold. It was bright.

I remember how dim my room looked, my blackout blinds did a good job in blocking out the sun, I disliked the sun in the morning, it was too happy for such a painful thing, like waking up. I went to go get dressed, opened my cupboard and picked out my uniform, making sure not to forget the baseball cap. After getting changed I looked at myself in the mirror. My uniform was striped grey and green, my long black hair in a long braid contrasted against my grey eyes. My hat held my business logo, a bird flying through a ring with a hot-dog in its mouth. My top, on the back said the company name "Catching Fire", my specialty hot-dog was a spicy hot-dog, I used to serve hot-dogs with the herb "Rue" on them, but they caused gastric discomfort.

I trotted downstairs in my uniform to see Peeta getting my hot-dog buns ready.

"Hi." He said, loading the buns ready to be taken away. "Here you go."

"Cool." I say in return, collecting up the hot-dog buns.

"I love you." Peeta said after me as I leave the room.

"Okay." I respond.

I remember taking my hot-dog stand to the park where I usually sell my products. It was an OK hot-dog stand, cheap but it did the job. My spot was open, I was shaded by the trees and had a good view of the park, a frequent customer of mine is called "Zoe", I remember she used to like the herb Rue, even if it did make her ill, she likes being ill though. Zoe would always come up, ask for a hot-dog with mustard, and a diet coke. I do pretend to sell diet coke and coke, but I actually sell Pepsi and no diet version.

I remember the lack of customers that I had been getting recently, I used to be quite popular but suddenly customer traffic had been lacking. I spend most of the day standing around; at lunch I make a profit but only a little bit. I desire to play flappy bird, but I don't own a phone with the app on.

I remember after my work day is over, I leave early to go and investigate where my customer traffic had gone. It didn't take long to find the source of the issue. First I see two women dressed in bright uniforms, their wigs were taller than the average wig, and their faces were made up in bright vibrant colours. They were visually offensive in a way, too bright for the morning. One main colour scheme was pink the second one was blue. They looked at my uniform.

"Grey and green, what do you sell? Mold. Oh you poor thing, we're sorry." Said the pink one.

"Sorry about her, she's not very good with commoners." Said the blue one.

I glared them down.

"What do you sell? Cotton candy?" I retorted.

"We sell hot-dogs." They handed me a leaflet that said The Hunger Games, which I looked at in disgust. It was a terrible company name. "That man over there is the one who cooks, sells and basically runs the joint."

The hot-dog rival was a small, thin man, with white hair and thick lips. His logo was a white rose; he waved slowly over at me. Then motioned for me to come over. I pedaled my hot-dog stand over to the man.

"Hello, my name is Coriolanus Snow. I sell hot-dogs. I know you, you're Katniss. Your hot-dogs are famous, join me, cook for me, and I will reward you greatly." He handed over a hot-dog towards me. "Here, on the house."
I remember shaking my head at the offer, his snake-like eyes narrowed at me.

"You will change your mind." He signaled for his two women to help pack up as they left me alone, stranded on my pedal-power hot-dog-stand.

I remember taking the hot-dog straight to Finnick, he could use his charms to get the scientists to find out what was in the hot-dog. I needed to find out what was in this meat to make them appealing enough for people to avoid my hot-dogs. What if Zoe had left me for Snow,that would be mildly upsetting.

Luckily the results came quickly, it revealed something terrible.

"Katniss, you might want to sit down for this." Finnick said, giving me a chair.

I sat down.

"So what was in the hot-dogs?" I ask.

Nothing could prepare me for the single syllable that came out of Finnick's mouth.

"Zoe."