CHAPTER ONE: Prologue

MOXIE

In hindsight, Moxie supposed she should have expected this. After all, it was just her sort of luck. When the representative from the Capitol called her name at the Reaping, she simply shrugged and took her place on stage. Moxie had never had the easiest life. Everything was a struggle from the time she was born. Her mother had died in childbirth, which was probably kinder. District Nine was among the poorest of the districts of Panem, and she would have been a single mother. Moxie had no idea who her father was. Her mother had refused to tell anyone, and she'd taken the secret to her grave. As a result, Moxie had been raised by the people of Nine. They treated her with love and respect, but not one of them had stepped up to volunteer to save her when she'd been selected to be paraded around on national television before, most likely, meeting her horrific death for the entertainment of the Capitol.

The train ride was fairly awkward. Moxie was seventeen, but the other Tribute from her district was Meelo, a thirteen-year-old she'd known for his entire life. Meelo was a good kid who liked to make people laugh in a world where there wasn't enough laughter to go around. He sometimes played pranks on people. Moxie knew that at least one of them would not be returning home, and she didn't want to think about that too much. She liked Meelo. She couldn't kill the kid, and she didn't want to watch anyone else do it, either, but she also didn't want to die.

She tried to remain in good spirits for Meelo's sake as they rode to the Capitol. It was definitely strange to look around as they arrived in this foreign land. Everyone looked ridiculous. Fashion was certainly unusual there. Moxie preferred her usual clothing, which generally consisted of an oversized sweater and pants. Moxie hated wearing dresses, but she'd been forced to for the Reaping. They had to dress up as part of the show, after all.

"Children! We're here," their mentor, Edina, said with a nervous edge to her voice. Everyone knew Edina was fierce. She'd killed a decent number of Tributes by trapping them in a circle of fire they could not escape twenty years earlier. At sixteen years old, she'd been the only one left standing after the flames died down. She walked around District Nine like she owned the place, but for the first time, Moxie saw her confidence shake slightly.

"Come on, Meelo," Moxie said, taking the younger Tribute's arm. She led him out of the train.

Things were a bit blurry at first. Meelo was taken to one room while Moxie went to another. There, she met her stylist and the team who would be working to pretty her up before she was sent off to the slaughter. She didn't pay much attention to them. She was exhausted by the end of things, but that didn't mean she could rest… They had to be introduced to the People.

For this ceremony, Moxie and Meelo were wearing costumes which represented grain. Their stylist had dressed Meelo up as a farmer, but he'd gotten much more creative with Moxie. "What a lovely Goddess," he mumbled.

"I'm sorry?" Moxie asked.

"You, my dear girl, make a lovely Demeter. I thought a Goddess of the Harvest was a nice touch."

She caught a glimpse of her reflection and didn't recognize herself. Her long blonde hair was neater than it had ever been and the front section from each side of her face had been pulled together into a braid which met in the middle of the back of her head. The dress she wore was simple yet extremely beautiful.

"I would have preferred pants," Moxie said honestly, "but I guess this will do."

Edina looked horrified, but the stylist laughed. "I like this one," he said. "Moxie… My name is Jey. I think we're going to have fun working together."

They were paraded before the Capitol for all to see. Only when the formalities ended and they were led out of sight did she relax. "That was fun," Meelo said.

"If you say so, Kid," Moxie replied. She was distracted as she heard someone laughing. She looked up and saw the source of the laughter, a girl with red hair and the brightest smile Moxie had ever seen.

"Quit staring, Nine," a boy said harshly. "She's mine."

"Be nice, Quentin. We aren't in the arena yet," the redhead said sweetly. "Hi. I'm Brin, and this is Quentin. We're from District Seven."

Moxie knew that District Seven was the lumber district. The fact that Brin and Quentin were dressed as trees should have given away where they were from anyway. Oddly, Brin managed to make the brown tree-themed dress look glamorous. Quentin, on the other hand, looked scary.

"I'm Meelo, and this is Moxie," Meelo said with a bright smile, trying to ease the tension like he usually did.

"How nice for you," Quentin said with a roll of his eyes.

"Quen! Stop it," Brin scolded him. "It's nice to meet you, Meelo… And you, too, Moxie."

"Sure, real nice," Moxie said with a laugh. "You seem like a sweet girl, Brin. I hope I don't have to kill you myself."

Quentin actually laughed. "Dark humor. I can get behind that," he said. "Sorry for being so harsh, but we're not here to make friends."

"Well, good luck, I guess… Unless we're face-to-face, in which case, I hope you die," Moxie said sweetly. She felt mildly guilty as her eyes fell on Brin again. The girl's smile did not disappear as Moxie had expected. Instead, she seemed to smile even brighter.

"Let's make the most of the time we have left," she suggested. "I'll see you soon, Moxie… Meelo… Come on, Quentin. We should go."

"She's pretty," Meelo said when they left.

"I noticed," Moxie admitted. "Let's go see where we'll be staying, Meelo." They got into the elevator and rode up to the ninth floor of the Tribute Quarters. Once there, Moxie was stunned into silence for a moment. More food than they'd ever be able to eat sat on the table before them, and the space itself was enormous.

"At least they're sending us off in style," Meelo said in wonder.

"You're starting to sound as dark as me, Kid. Knock it off," Moxie said, but she had to agree. As nice as this place was, it hardly made up for the fact that they were going to be sent off to die very soon.

Make the most of it, she thought, replaying Brin's words. Why not, right? We might as well. She found her bedroom and quickly changed into slightly more comfortable clothing. It didn't take her long to fall into a deep sleep.

BRIN

She couldn't sleep. Brin was entirely too nervous to even try. When Quentin had passed out, she'd decided to sit by the window and admire the view. She began to get lost in her thoughts, wondering what life out there in the Capitol was really like.

"It's lovely, isn't it?" Lulu, the female mentor for District Seven, asked.

Brin jumped in surprise. "Oh! Yes, it is," she replied.

"You aren't fit for this," Lulu said sadly. "You're a dreamer, a gentle soul… The Arena will change you… Or it won't, and you'll just die."

"Um… Thank you for that motivating speech?"

"It's the simple truth, Brin. I'm sorry you're here. You have always been a nice girl. I can't imagine you surviving this. Can you even fight?"

"I don't like to," Brin admitted.

"Do you have skills with any weapons?"

"I'm from Seven, Lulu. I've been throwing axes since I was a toddler."

"Logically, but are you skilled with it?"

"I never miss my target." That was true.

"Good. That will come in handy." Lulu sighed. "In the meantime, what you are suited for is the beauty of the Capitol. You will love the pageantry leading up to the Games. The dresses, the interviews, the appearances… It's all very exciting, until they send you to the Arena. That will be when it sinks in…" She shook her head. "Do not trust Quentin once the Games get going, Brin. Even friends turn on each other when only one person can escape alive."

"Quen would never hurt me," Brin said stubbornly. "He's my boyfriend."

"And he's got a very strong survival instinct. A girlfriend is easy enough to replace as long as you're alive to do it."

"You're such a pessimist, Lulu. Have you ever tried being more upbeat?"

"If you survive the Games, sweet Brin, you will understand why I'm not. I do not see the point in lying to you. I wish my mentor had told me the truth…"

Brin sighed. "Come watch the pretty sights with me," she suggested.

Lulu sat beside Brin and looked out the window. "It is beautiful… Even if it's covering up something very ugly." She squeezed Brin's hand. "Try to enjoy your time here, Brin. You deserve at least a few days of peace before the end." Without another word, Lulu walked away.

Brin knew her chances of survival might not be fantastic, but that didn't mean she had to dwell on it. For the time being, she was still alive, and she had no intention of letting the likelihood of her demise change who she was at her core. She always had hope in her heart, no matter how bad things were. She refused to give up on that. There was always a chance… She had to believe it was possible that this was not the end of the line for her.

LUX

This was what they had been waiting for. Lux had trained his entire life for this, and now, he was here… The Hunger Games. He was a warrior, and his only purpose was to bring honor to his home by winning the Games, or by helping the other Tribute from his district. In this case, that Tribute was Pearl, another Career.

She was sleeping peacefully on the couch now, having passed out watching videos from previous Games as they tried to prepare to fight. Lux watched her for a minute before walking to his bedroom. Pearl was beautiful, and she'd use that to her advantage to fool people into underestimating her, but Lux knew how brutal she could be. He'd seen it before. Unlike most of the Tributes heading into the Games, both he and Pearl had killed before. Of course, no one knew about that, and they intended to keep it that way. If anyone ever found out what they'd done…

What does it matter now? Lux thought. One of us isn't going home anyway. He refused to consider that the winner of the Games could come from any district other than District One. It was nearly always one of the Careers who won, which meant they were from his district, or Two, or possibly Four. Anything else was unacceptable, and he very much preferred that the victor come from One.

He liked Pearl well enough. They'd trained together for years… But he knew when the time came, they were both prepared to kill each other. He had no intention of being the one who didn't walk out of there alive.

Kill the others first, he reminded himself. The longer you and Pearl have each other to count on, the better. That was how the Careers did things. They hunted in packs until it was time to pick each other off. No matter what he had to do, Lux was going back to District One at the end of this, and he didn't plan to do so in a body bag. This time, failure was not an option.

He crawled into his bed, picturing the Tributes in his mind. He knew he would have to study them closely as they prepared to head into the arena so he could figure out how to defeat each of them. He smiled to himself as he drifted off, picturing himself standing over their lifeless bodies, victorious.

PRESIDENT SNOW

He stared at the photos of the Tributes, unable to look away from one in particular. "Goddamnit, how did this happen?" He demanded.

"Is there a problem, Sir?" His most trusted assistant, Killian, asked.

"The girl from District Nine… Her name should never have been reaped."

"I don't understand, President Snow… She is seventeen. Of course her name was in the mix."

"It was never meant to be."

Killian frowned. "Why should she have been excluded from the Reaping process?"

"Killian, I have trusted you for a long time… This secret, however, I intended to take to my grave. A long time ago, I had an affair with one of the Tributes, a girl called Olive. She was quite beautiful and I could not help myself. She survived her games because I wanted her to. I made sure that the Game Maker protected her and took out any Tributes who got too close to her. For three years, every time she returned to the Capitol as a mentor, our affair would resume. Then, the fourth year, she did not return. I was informed that she'd died in childbirth."

"I am sorry, Sir. I wasn't aware… But what does that have to do with this Tribute?"

"I think you know the answer to that, Killian. The girl, Moxie, is my dear Olive's daughter… And I have reason to suspect that…" He shook his head.

"You think the girl is your daughter?" Killian asked in shock.

"Olive was unmarried and had no other lover. The odds of that girl belonging to anyone else are quite slim."

"We'll pull her out of the Games," Killian said quickly.

"We can't do that, I'm afraid… Not without raising suspicion, and no one must find out about this. I want a blood test run to determine if the girl is my child… And if she is, she must be the one to win the Games, Killian. I will not allow her to die in this manner."

"Of course, President Snow. I will do everything in my power to ensure she wins."

"You must, because I do not trust our new Game Maker to go along with this easily. He enjoys bloodshed and brutality, and will do anything for the sake of entertainment. He's an ideal Game Maker, but he may disagree with my plan to determine the outcome of these Games ourselves."

"I understand. I will have confirmation to you sometime tomorrow."

"Thank you, Killian. You are the only one I trust with this information."

"You will not regret it." Killian excused himself to take care of things.

Snow frowned. "I must protect her," he decided aloud. "Even if she is not my child, she is Olive's. She has to survive, just as her mother did." He didn't really need the test results, however. One look at the girl had told him she was his daughter. He could feel it in his bones. He hadn't pursued knowing the girl because if the truth came out, it would destroy his reputation. Now, however, he knew he had to act. One way or another, he needed to save Moxie before it was too late.

AUTHOR'S NOTE: Thanks for reading the first chapter. I hope you enjoyed it! There's more to come. Different points of view will continue to be added as more characters are introduced. Reviews are always appreciated.