"All the world's a stage,
And all the men and women merely players;
They have their exits and their entrances,
And one man in his time plays many parts..."

- William Shakespeare

Kaden woke slowly, the fog of sleep reluctant to release its hold on him. His limbs felt heavy and weighed down, mind reluctant to fully wake after the lack of sleep it received the night before. The bed was as hard as ever, but it felt blissfully soft in this half-aware state, and for a moment – just a moment – he could pretend that today wasn't the reaping, could forget the fear for his sister that kept him up last night, tossing and turning with restless energy until his own exhaustion got the better of him.

But he'd never been a particularly good liar. He opened his eyes, wincing when they caught the glare of sunlight peeking through the gap in the curtains. Turning his face away, he looked down at the blond head tucked against his collar, a fond smile pulling up the corners of his lips. Prim had always had a tendency to sneak into his bed the night before reapings, worried that her brother would be the one chosen that year. His smile faded. This time, Prim was in danger too.

With a faint sigh he slowly sat up, gently nudging Prim over a little in order to escape. Her hold tightened for a second before he carefully removed her arms, and she clutched the thin pillow he'd been laying on instead. Kaden grinned at that, then slid out of the bed and onto his feet.

Cold! He grimaced, resisting the urge to yelp, not wanting to wake either his sister or his father. He should be used to it by now, but he'd never been a big fan of the cold. He loved the sun and the heat, no matter how rare it was, and spent as much time as he could soaking it up in the summer months. Though it was only the middle of July, the past week had been a cold one, winds kicking up the coal dust that coated the Seam. It didn't seem as bad today – a peek through the curtains revealing the nearly cloudless sky – but the pervasive morning cold still made his skin break out in goosebumps, and he pulled his leather boots on gratefully. What he wouldn't give to live in one of the warmer districts...

He'd slept in his trousers from yesterday, his only other pair having a large rip in them from where he'd just dodged a swipe from one of the larger wild dogs – more wolf than dog, in Kaden's opinion, the snarling creature was certainly larger than the usual ones - a few days earlier. He picked up his shirt – noting it was getting a bit old too, threads unravelling at the edges – and pulled it on, wishing they could afford to keep the fire burning all night so he might've left the shirt to warm by it. Still, he knew that it'd adjust to his body temperature quickly enough.

He started a little when his father coughed, a flash of black hair showing from under the sheets as the man turned over in his sleep. Kaden hoped he was enjoying the few extra hours of sleep. He, however, always found it impossible to go back to sleep after waking up. Besides, he had to go meet Gale.

Keeping his footsteps light he grabbed his forage bag from its hook, pulling the strap over his head as he walked over to the wooden bowl set on the table. He grinned and picked up the goat cheese hidden beneath; Prim's gift to him on reaping day. He was glad he managed to convince father to allow Prim to keep Lady, as Prim had named the goat, even if the older man had been pretty grumpy with him for a while after. But how could he say no to his little sister when she was practically sobbing, begging him to save the injured goat?

"Mrraow." Speaking of animals Prim had decided to save. Buttercup, the ugliest cat he'd ever seen, twisted around his legs, looking up at him with dull green eyes before the feline made its way over to Prim and jumped on to curl up beside her. He was not a cat person, and when he had seen the flee-infested kitten Prim had brought home a few years ago he wasn't about to change his mind. But then she brought out the puppy-eyes (a technique he was both proud and chagrined to say she learnt from him) and he knew he'd lost. Father hadn't been very happy. Kaden had spent several months as a sort of protector for the bedraggled cat, who soon learnt to hide either behind or on him to escape Tero's wrath. His father would never harm Prim just to get to the cat, but she was very young then, and spent a lot of her time playing or sleeping.

Since then, though Buttercup – Kaden still couldn't see how the dirty yellow fur of the cat was supposed to be similar to the flower's bright shade – preferred Prim by far, Kaden represented safety. He didn't mind Buttercup too much, since he mostly caught his own food, taking care of the mice that sometimes nibbled at their already meagre food supplies. And the cat made Prim happy, satisfying his big brother instincts.

Stepping out of the house, the first thing he noticed was how quiet it was. He was used to the bustle of miners heading out for the morning shift, his father amongst them, not the empty streets presented to him. It wasn't a complete shock though – it was like this last year – but it was still a bit strange, and made him quicken his step as he walked towards the small, ragged field that was the Meadow. It was what separated the outermost houses in the Seam and the chain-link fence that enclosed District 12. The fence was supposed to be electrified, but as far as he knew it hadn't been for years, and there was a convenient weak spot – one of a few - that he slid under. He really should check, knew his father would be lecturing his ear off if he found out, but he was in a bit of a rush, having woken up a bit later than he thought judging by the placement of the sun in the sky.

On the other side there was only a short gap to the woods themselves. The tall trees were comforting as he walked between them, breathing deeply to take in the fresh scent of the forest. He'd always felt most at home here, and had more than once entertained the fantasy of running away to live here, far away from the fear the Capitol inspired. If he kept going there was nothing but wilderness ahead of him, the sea to the east and the ruins of District 13 to the west. He tried to imagine it; just him and the trees and the animals.

His eyes opened – when had he closed them? - and he sighed, jogging lightly to get his blood flowing and heat his body up. Leaves crunched beneath his boots, quietly enough that is shouldn't gain any attention. He never followed the same route, not wanting to leave a trail for others to follow, even if that made it harder for him to navigate the forest. But he practically grew up here, knew every bush and stream well enough to walk it blind, and he'd be rather ashamed if he ever got lost.

Kaden stopped when he reached the familiar spot. In front of him was a forked tree, the thick trunk burnt slightly in a slanted line that was only obvious if you knew what you're looking for. He crouched down, brushed away a few leaves from the ground to reveal an old lock seemingly lodged in the forest floor, the edges brown with rust. His hand slipped under his shirt collar and grabbed the key hanging from a piece of string around his neck, pulling it over his head and inserting it into the lock. Tongue sticking out between his teeth he tried to turn it one, two, three times before the old tumblers finally worked, allowing him to lift up a square patch of ground about two metres long and and half that wide. Kaden grinned in triumph; last time he was here ages trying to get the thing to unlock.

Inside was a selection of weapons. Most were pretty basic; knives of various sizes and types, four swords – one barely more than a dagger, another almost as tall as he was – and a few bows. But hidden beneath them was where the more dangerous ones lay; guns and tasers and grenades - weapons only the Peacekeepers were supposed to have access to. The problem? The majority were so old they were falling apart, or didn't even have any ammunition, making them just as useless. Apparently this was a weapons cachet set up way back when the districts rebelled, and though they lost, Kaden's father's line passed on knowledge of it to their own children, as if in the hope that one day they would finally be put to use.

Most of it was junk, but Kaden enjoyed learning how to use the rest, though he stayed away from the guns in case the shots were heard. His father taught him how to use the functional weapons to an 'acceptable degree', whatever that meant, then he had to learn the rest through trial and error. There was definitely a lot of error involved, for his limited success. He found he had great aim, so he took to the bow and throwing knives quite well, and ended up concentrating most of his effort on them since they were so useful in hunting. He didn't really have the time to practise much with the others, not if he wanted to keep his family fed as the same time.

Kaden grabbed a quiver of arrows and slung them over his shoulder, resting his bow on the opposite one, and strapped a couple of knives to his belt. Then he closed the lid of the compartment, locking it and covering it with a scattering of leaves as a precaution. Nobody except Gale and him, and sometimes his father, ever really went into the forest, but it was better not to leave something that could be so dangerous to chance. He didn't want to think about what would happen if a Peacekeepers found out. He'd like to think that they'd keep it a secret, wanted to be able to trust them, but when it could put Prim in danger just by association he couldn't risk it.

Brushing away his dark thoughts he made his way up the steady incline. Up ahead was where he usually met Gale. The rock ledge overlooked the valley, a lake glittering at the bottom of the hill where they would swim in warmer weather. His eyes closed with a pleased hum as he stepped out of the shade of the trees, facing turning up and basking in the sunshine.

A finger poked his forehead and he opened his eyes, making a affronted sound. Gale was there, grinning and looking pleased that he'd managed to catch Kaden off-guard. He was obviously still a bit sore from when Kaden had caught him daydreaming whilst they were supposed to be hunting, and tackled him to the ground to shock him 'awake'. Eyeing the taller, broader boy, Kaden felt glad that Gale hadn't decided to use the same technique. He wasn't too keen on getting crushed.

"I swear you're more flower than human, Kai." Gale said teasingly. A few years back Kaden had decided that he hated the name, for whatever reason – he was a kid, all right? - and tried to convince everyone to call him 'Kai' instead. A couple of weeks later he changed his mind, but it stuck with Prim – who was already calling him that anyway – and Gale. Kaden thought it was because every time Gale had called him anything else during those two weeks, he would shoot an arrow at the older boy, each time a little closer to a certain vital area. It was pretty much ingrained in him in the name of self-preservation.

"What's wrong with enjoying the sun?" Kaden replied. "Not all of us likes skulking in the shadows."

Gale put on a mock offended look. "I don't skulk. It's called being sneaky."

The younger boy patted his shoulder consolingly. "Sure, whatever you say."

Both gave each other serious looks before breaking out in grins. Years ago, when he first met the rather moody boy, Kaden made it his goal to get Gale to be more cheerful. He thought it'd worked, since he definitely smiled a lot more and joked around too, and didn't brood as much as he used to. If only his other goals were so easy to achieve...a happy teenager today, an end to world hunger tomorrow!

"Hey, look what I shot." Gale lifted a loaf of bread from behind his back, presenting it to Kaden. He looked at the arrow sticking out of its side and laughed, taking it and breathing in the mouth-watering scent of fresh bread. It wasn't stale or hard like the bread he was used to; it must've been straight from the bakery.

"Perfect," he murmured, reaching into his bag. "Prim made me some cheese; we'll have our own feast before..."

Gale tactfully ignored the way he trailed off, his own grey eyes darkening for a moment before he visibly focussed on the positive. "I'll have to thank her later. Maybe you and her could come over later for dinner? My mother's been nagging at me lately, saying that you looked too thin when she last saw you." There was a little concern in his gaze, as if he too had had similar thoughts.

Kaden waved it away, placing the bread on a convenient boulder that had been smoothed down over the years until it was almost flat. He took his knife – they were kept cleaner than what most people in 12 used at home - and began slicing the bread, saying, "I'm fine. She shouldn't worry so much. Both of you," he sent the older boy a meaningful look, and Gale lifted his hands in surrender before going to collect some blackberries from the nearby bushes. Cutting the bread into neat slices he frowned slightly. The two Hawthorne's were right; he had been eating less. But it wasn't a big deal – he was fine, no dizziness or fatigue or weakness – and it was necessary with the recent food shortages. Between feeding Prim, and feeding himself, he'd choose his sister every time.

"I almost forgot! Happy Hunger Games!" Gale said suddenly. Kaden looked up at him curiously. He had a sardonic smile on his face, and tossed one of the berries he'd picked towards Kaden, saying with an amusing Capitol accent lilt to his words, "And may the odds-"

Kaden leant forwards to catch the berry in his mouth, biting down on it with vigour – the sweet-almost-sour taste was pleasantly sharp on his tongue – before continuing the famous phrase, "-be ever in your favour!" He wasn't as good as Gale was at the accent, but he thought he managed a passable imitation, if the amused look Gale threw him was anything to go by.

The soft cheese spread easily across the bread, and he piled them up before sitting down on the grass. He was joined a second later by Gale, who dropped the berries down on a piece of cloth between them. After a moment of awkwardly juggling with his hunger and not wanting to drop any, Kaden placed the bread down on it too, grabbing a couple of slices for himself. The food was quickly consumed between them, and he made a mental note to thank Prim again for her contribution. That goat had definitely been worth the hassle.

This was their own sort of ritual; to meet up on the morning of the reaping, bringing some sort of food and just...relaxing. The reaping was never far from their minds, but it was a lot easier to think about here, where the Capitol and its games seemed so distant, rather than the depressing atmosphere in the Seam where the fear and worry of so many people seemed to weigh down on you. He sighed contently and lay back, propped up on his elbows, stomach full and the heat from the sun soaking into his skin. He wished he could just stay here forever.

"We could do it, you know."

"Hmm?" Kaden lazily opened one eye. Gale was looking at him with a thoughtful expression, settled back against the rock as he twisted a piece of grass between his fingers.

"Leave the district. Run off. Live in the woods." The statements came out in a rush, like he'd been bottling them up inside for a while now, but had thought over them a lot. "You and I, we could make it."

Fully opening both eyes Kaden sat up, a little startled to hear Gale say something so similar to what he'd been thinking on the trek up. The idea tempted him – to run away, leave it all behind – but despite being accused as idealogical he was skeptical of their chances. "Good luck convincing your mother to pack up and leave," he said instead, words tempered by the wry look on his face. "Never mind Prim. Can you imagine her, living out here? 'Kai! You never told me there were bugs in the forest! Kai! You can't kill that animal, it's cute and fluffy!'" he imitated a high pitched voice that, truthfully, sounded nothing like his sister, ruefully thinking about how annoyed she'd be if she heard him.

Gale huffed a laugh despite himself, pensive expression clearing up. Kaden nudged the older boy, and said, "C'mon, I feel like fishing today." He jumped up onto his feet, bouncing impatiently as he waited for a smirking Gale to get up. He deliberately took longer, and a few minutes later in revenge Kaden shoved him into the lake. The sight of his shocked spluttering was well worth his own clothes getting soaked when he was dragged in. They dried whilst they gathered some greens, and Kaden delighted in picking the brightest and juiciest strawberries.

With their spoils carefully tucked away they headed to the Hob. It was busy, despite a few of the businesses being closed on the reaping day, and it didn't take too long to find good trades for the majority of the fish and greens. The next stop was the mayor's house; the mayor was particularly fond of strawberries, and was willing to pay a good price for them. Kaden always picked the best ones as thanks.

It was the mayor's daughter, Madge, who answered the back door when Kaden knocked. She was a year younger than him, so he didn't see her much at school, but he'd gotten to know her a bit better over the course of his deliveries. A lot of people thought she was a snob because she was the mayor's daughter, so he didn't think she had many friends. But she was nice, if a bit quiet, and Kaden always tried to make her laugh – or at least smile - when he saw her, since she always looked so lonely.

"I see you've already gotten all prettied up," he commented, nodding to the expensive white dress she wore, her hair tied back with a pink ribbon. "You should wear your hair like that more often; it suits you." He winked at her, earning an eye roll and a shy grin. He had found that compliments were the quickest ways to get smiles out of people, even if they tried to hide them. He was always honest, though, so he couldn't see anything wrong with it.

"Well, if I end up going to the Capitol, I want to look nice, don't I?" she said, brushing down the front off her dress.

"You won't be going to the Capitol," Gale said coldly. Kaden winced at the tone, and how Madge had unintentionally poked at a rather sore point. "What can you have? Five entries? I had six when I was just twelve years old."

"Gale," Kaden said firmly, getting the taller boy to release his glare on Madge – who's face had blanked as she stood stiffly in the doorway – and turn to him instead. Frustration and worry swirled in Gale's eyes, and the corner of his mouth was pulled down in displeasure. "It's not her fault. You know that."

He crossed his arms and looked away as he said tensely, "No, it's no ones fault. Just the way it is."

Glancing at the blond girl's awkward form Kaden shot her an apologetic smile and passed over half of the strawberries, pocketing the money he received in return. "Good luck, Kaden," she murmured, closing the door.

"You too!" he replied with an attempt at his usual brightness, despite the figurative rain cloud standing next to him. The trip back to the Seam was made in relative silence, occasionally broken by his attempts to get Gale to chat about a happier subject. But when he kept getting one syllable replies at best, and grunts at worst, he gave up. He grumbled under his breath about 'mopey brooders', and was gratified to see the faint smirk out of the corner of his eye.

He could relate to Gale's anger. It was unfair, that the richer people – though no one was really rich in District 12 – didn't have to apply for tesserae, weren't so desperate for food that they'd increase their chances of being thrown into a killing match that they had no chance of winning. But, like he'd said earlier, it wasn't their fault. If anyone was to blame, it was the Capitol, but it wasn't like they could complain to them without risking getting their tongues cut off – at best. He'd heard – more whispers than rumours – that over the seventy-three years of Hunger Games there had been a few people who had protested, and had 'mysteriously disappeared' soon after. That was if the Capitol was feeling merciful. The public executions of fifty years ago were not something he'd ever want to see, if his father's stories were accurate. They didn't happen any more – at least, not to his knowledge – but not even he could believe that the ruthless President Snow was above bringing them back to prove a point.

When it was time to part ways the two teenagers split the rest of the food and money between them. It was more than Kaden had been expecting; he'd help Prim make something nice for dinner that night, even if he wasn't that great at cooking. "I'll see you later." he said, waving over his shoulder.

"Don't be late," came the flat reply.

Kaden jogged home, greeting a few Peacekeepers he saw on the way back and getting eye-rolls and a couple of exasperated waves in response. They were used to either fear or hostility, so the boy's cheerful countenance baffled a lot of them. The less rigid ones – usually the younger – had warmed up to him over the years, and the rest at least tolerated him, so he counted it as a victory.

His father and Prim were ready to go when he arrived. His father was wearing a clean (for the Seam) pair of grey trousers, and one of the least ripped shirts he owned. He sat in his chair, face gaining that awful blankness that always showed up on reapings. Kaden knew it was his way of coping – to become numb, rather than face the worry and fear for his children clawing at his insides – but it still caused a shiver to run down his spine. His father looked dead, only the steady rise and fall off his chest dissuading that notion.

He looked at Prim instead. She wore a blue skirt and a white ruffled blouse, both startlingly new. Kaden had spent the last couple of years running errands and doing chores for a tailor and his wife, who lived in the merchants sector. His wife made female clothing – dresses and skirts and the like. So in return she'd given him the clothes as payment, and though they were a bit big on his sister she'd worked out how to make it fit using pins.

"Do I look okay?" Prim asked worriedly, twisting the folds of the skirt in her fists as she studied herself in the cracked mirror that leant against the wall.

Kaden crouched down in front of her and grinned, ruffling her hair. "You look adorable. I'll have to fend of your admirers and hide you away from them, in case they try to steal you from me." He mock-sighed, attempting to keep his face serious despite his sister's giggles. "You're so troublesome."

"You're the one who's troublesome!" she exclaimed, blue eyes bright with laughter as she poked him in the chest. He swayed back on his heels, comically widening his eyes as he almost lost his balance. "You're not even dressed properly!"

Looking down at his grass stained – and everything-else-stained – trousers, muddy shoes and a coating of sweat, he muttered, "So I am."

He let Prim push him into the other room, where a tub of warm water waited. He blinked at her when she ran back in again with a towel and a small chunk of soap, his reaping clothes hanging over her shoulder and a brush in her hand. She dropped it in a pile, gave him a stern look which looked incredibly cute on her young features, and ordered him to clean up quickly.

"Sir, yes sir," he chuckled, saluting lazily and waiting for his sister to leave before stripping and climbing into the tub. It was a bit small for him, making it a rather uncomfortable fit, but the heat of the water made him slump back appreciatively, taking a minute to relax before he started scrubbing the dirt from his skin.

The white shirt fit more or less perfectly; he'd worn it for the past few reapings, and he'd finally grown into it. The black trousers however were a little short, dangling an inch above his ankles, whilst the shoes were made for feet bigger than his; they were an old pair of his father's, in relatively good condition since he'd only ever worn them on reaping days. As soon as he put them on he longed for his boots.

Getting dressed was easy enough; his hair that was the hard part. Thick and inky black, the dark locks refused to lay straight, forming its customary slanted spikes even after being washed. His fringe wasn't so bad; parting in the middle with the longest pieces falling to his chin as it framed his face. He dragged the hairbrush through his hair a few times, but knew from experience that it was ultimately futile. With a defeated sigh he gave up, wishing he hadn't been cursed with 'hedgehog-hair', as it'd been called by his family. It was the same every year, but at least his hair was long enough that the locks didn't stick straight up like they had when he was younger.

Prim frowned at him when he entered the room, looking like she wanted to attack his unruly hair herself. "Hey, I tried," Kaden said sheepishly, then continued in the hope of distracting her, "You want me to plait your hair?" The blonde looked delighted at that, and ran over to get a thin piece of leather for him to use as a tie before returned to stand in front of him, shuffling impatiently.

Kaden got to work on the plait, neatly sectioning off the blond strands before beginning the simple pattern. His mother used to do this for Prim every day, once her hair was long enough, and he had always enjoyed watching as she turned messy waves into intricate braids. It was the reason he'd learnt how to do this from Gale's mother; he was no where near as good, but it made them – Prim and himself – feel closer to their mother. She had died when he was nine, his sister just four years old, from one of the winter sicknesses that had spread through District 12. It had been horrible towards the end, when she was in so much pain, and it was almost a blessing when she finally passed on in her sleep. His father...hadn't taken it well. It was like he'd frozen, the gruff yet kind man becoming emotionless, despondent, like all the life had been drained from him. He hadn't gone to work any more, just lay in bed all the time, any movements mechanical and blank. No matter how much he shook the man, or Prim cried and screamed, he just...lay there, ignorant to the world.

It had fallen onto Kaden to look after his family. His father had taught him how to hunt, and he'd often missed school so that he could spend enough time out in the woods to get enough. It was harder during the winter months, and he'd have to spend days out there, finding and tracking the minimal amount of animals left out in the open. He thought that was why he loved to be warm so much; the cold was spending freezing nights in the pitch black forest. The cold was hunger clawing at his stomach and clouding his mind, and his little sister's skeletal frame.

But they managed, they survived. Kaden became more of a parent to Prim than a sibling, and they grew used to hole their mother's absence had left. In many ways it seemed like their father had died with her. On his darker days, when any joy or happiness was staved off by lack of food and sleep, he sometimes thought it would've been better if he had died.

Tero finally 'woke' on the day of the reaping. It was Kaden's first, and he had entered his name four times; once because he had to, the rest for the tesserae he would receive. Just thinking about the supply of grain and oil had been enough to bring a grin to his thin face, enough to dismiss his fears of being chosen. He had been walking over to get registered when his father had put a hand on his shoulder, and it had startled him enough to completely freeze, before spinning around to stare wide-eyed at the dark-haired man's back as he walked away.

After that he seemed to get better. He still barely spoke, and when he did it was flat and quiet, so you had to strain to hear his rough voice. But when Prim had turned ten he'd gone out a bought her a flower, a pink one from one of the merchant's wives who kept a garden, and told her that she looked just like her mother. Then he'd even gone back to work, though he only went in to oversee the occassional blasting in the mine, and had started teaching Kaden how to use the weapons in the cachet again until a year ago. Kaden had forgiven the man for abandoning him, but he could never forgive him for doing the same to Prim – tiny, skinny little Prim who had needed him, had needed a father, and she'd had to use her brother as a substitute instead.

Kaden realised he'd finished, and was just staring unseeingly at the mirror. His reflection peered back. He had black hair and olive skin, like near everyone in the Seam, but his eyes were different. They were a bright, deep blue which stood out against his skin. He must've inherited it from someone in his mother's family. Prim's were a lighter blue, like their mother's, and she'd gotten her pale skin and fair hair too. The only way you could really tell they were related was in their faces; Kaden had soft, feminine features, with high cheekbones and smooth skin, more mature than his sister's but still similar. His frame was geared more for swiftness than strength, but years of hunting and practise had built up his muscles. He didn't look very intimidating, not like his father with his tall bulkiness from years of working in mines. Gale's right, I really am a 'pretty boy', he thought with a grudging amusement, the corners of his mouth quirking up. The dimple the showed in his left cheek just made the admission worse.

The sound of a rumbling stomach brought him out of his contemplation, and he directed an unimpressed look down at his abdomen. He could hear Prim giggling and she span around to look at him, giggles increasing at his glare. "It's the smell, I swear. I'm not even hungry," he muttered, casting a baleful look at the pot of stew cooking above the fire.

"We'll have break and milk, before we go," Tero said suddenly, getting up with a creak from his old chair. They sat in silence as they ate, though every time Prim started to look too gloomy Kaden would catch her attention and make goofy faces for her amusement. Their father's muttered comment of "Dignity? What dignity?" only made his two children laugh.

They set off for the square at one o'clock, as per usual. As they got closer more and more people joined the crowds, until Kaden had to keep a tight hold off Prim's hand to ensure they wouldn't get separated. After signing in Tero clasped a hand on their shoulders before moving off to join the other family members, and Kaden caught a glimpse of him settling near the back, stone-faced and arms crossed. Then it was time for Prim to join the other twelve-year-olds. She reluctantly detached herself from his side, and he gave her a quick hug – the other teenagers were bustling around them, and he heard several annoyed huffs as they tried to get past the obstruction – before sending her off with a reassuring smile.

It faded as he walked over to the other seventeen-year-olds. His attention was drawn to the stage that had been set up in front of the Justice Building, which had been cleaned up even though it still held the grey tinge of age. On the stage were four chairs, two of which occupied by Mayor Undersee and Effie Trinket. The green suit and ridiculous hair of District 12's escort earned a raised eyebrow, and he privately thought that her scary wide smile could terrify small children.

A few minutes later a woman with black hair streaked with grey climbed up on the stage and stiffly took a seat. Blair Vine. She won the 37th Hunger Games when she was fifteen, receiving a blinded eye and a limp for her trouble. Her lips were turned down in a near constant frown, and she always sat up straight. When she was in the Games a boy from 2 stabbed her in the lower back, just before she cut his throat with a jagged rock. They were the last two left, so the Gamemakers had simply waited to see who died first, and when Blair lasted the longest they declared her victor and patched her up. But the boy had done some sort of damage to her spine that not even the Capitol could fix completely, resulting in her limp and a never-ceasing pain in her back.

Despite her biting sarcasm and cruel insults that she directed at pretty much anyone, she'd opened up a small clinic that dealt out homemade cures and painkillers for free. She'd also stitch up anyone who asked for her aid, as long as you'd put up with her remarks on the 'stupidity of youth', as Kaden knew from experience. Not so oddly, she'd grown fond off Prim when his sister insisted on coming with him once, and had accepted her as a sort of apprentice when Prim asked if she could learn from her. So whilst Blair didn't exactly like Kaden, she'd gotten used to him, and appreciated the herbs he'd collect from the forest at her request.

Catching his eye, the stern-faced woman gave him a nod. He returned it with a cheery wave, and he saw her snort and look away to glare at the cameras being set up around the square. His eyes drifted away, pulled almost magnetically to the two large glass balls.

Before the fear could fully manifest the town clock struck two, and the balding mayor stepped up to the podium and began to read. Rather than listening to him blandly recite the history of Panem, the Dark Days and the creation of the Hunger Games Kaden sought out Gale. He stood amongst the eighteen-year-olds, and craning his neck Kaden could see the stormy expression growing on his face. Kaden didn't quite understand why he was so mad – it was the same speech every year after all – and he attempted to get his attention whilst remaining silent. Unfortunately, their psychic link seemed to be malfunctioning today.

Distracted, he didn't notice that Effie Trinket had taken the mayor's place until she gave her signature bubbly, "Happy Hunger Games! And may the odds be ever in your favour!" Haymitch Abernathy, the only other victor District 12 had had, was sitting in his chair too, slumped over and obviously very drunk. Kaden wondered if he was the reason Effie's wig was now skewed, and half wanted to congratulate the man as Effie went on about how it was such an honour to be there, despite her clear distaste for the district.

And then Effie said, "Ladies first!" as she moved over to the girl's ball, reaching her hand in deep. His heart was beating frantically in his chest, in a mantra of not Prim – thump-thump – not Prim – thump-thump – not Prim. He wished she would hurry up, because he couldn't bare this, couldn't bare the fear and desperation that twisted in his gut and constricted his breathing.

She pulled out a piece of paper, and Kaden imagined he could see his sister's name written in fancy Capitol writing, all loops and unnecessary curls, glowing through the paper. He knew he was being stupid – Prim's name was in there once, just once, not like his own twenty-four – but he couldn't stop himself from holding his breath when Effie approached the podium, spread out the piece of paper and read two words that brought his world crashing down around him.

"Primrose Everdeen!"

After watching Catching Fire I was inspired to start a new fiction, which I hope you'll enjoy. So, introducing Kaden Everdeen (pronounced Kai- like a kite -den), overprotective big brother and generally cheerful guy. I decided to make him this way due to the majority of ocs being sarcastic, quick-tempered and kinda mean (not all, mind you). Oh, and female.

I kinda have a plan for where I'm going with this, but a lot of it is 'in the moment' writing, so updates may be sporadic. Either way, I'd love to know what you think, so please leave a review.

For any interested, since I don't think I'm very good at describing how people look, Kaden is inspired by Zack Fair from Final Fantasy 7 (his pre-hair slicked back look) so google it if you'd like. Oh, and Blair Vine will have a purpose...eventually.

Obligatory disclaimer; I don't own anything except any ocs who turn up.