Chapter 1

FPOV

It was my turn to mentor this year. Mags stood next to me, her eyes scrutinizing Perula's face. I sighed and said, "Her face won't tell you who will be reaped." Mags only shook her head. I know what she was hoping for. She was hoping that her eighteen year old only grandson, Gerald, wouldn't be reaped.

Perula, in her squeaky sound, announced, "Ladies first!" Her hand scrambled around the glass ball holding the girls' names. You could swear that the only sound was the ragged breathing of the potential tributes. Even the seagulls and waves were silent. Finally Perula whipped up a sliver of paper. She unfolded it carefully, and reading from it, cried, "Annie Cresta!"

Gasps rang across the plaza. Even I who spent so little time in District 4 since the Hunger Games knew the Cresta family. Annie Cresta was the only daughter of Hugo Cresta and Bonnie Cresta, which Hugo was mentally unstable.

The girl who must be Annie dislodged herself from the girls of the same age and walked up to the stage, her body trembling. She was dressed beautifully, a sea green dress that matched her eyes. She would be the last girl mentored by Mags.

When Annie reached Perula, the Capitol woman put a hand on her shoulder affectionately, as if they were old friends. But Annie shrunk away from her touch. Perula than reached into the boy's glass ball and randomly drew a piece of paper out. She smiled widely at the boys before calling out, "Gerald Greene!"

Utter silence.

The eighteen year old boy walked confidently up the stage, his head held up high. I could hear Mags sobbing quietly next to me. "Just one more year and he wouldn't have to be reaped!" she whispered. I couldn't do anything but place a hand on the old woman's shoulder.

Meanwhile, Perula took Annie and Gerald's hand and said cheerfully, "District 4's tributes for the 70th Hunger Games are Annie Cresta and Gerald Greene!"

"Are you sure you want to mentor this year?" I asked, worried. Mags loved Gerald very much. Mags nodded. "Finnick, can I ask you for something?" she said. I nodded. "Can we trade tributes?"

My mouth fell open. It was uncommon – no, there was never a time where the male mentor mentored the female tribute and the female mentor mentored the male tribute. "Please, Finnick?" she asked, "I want to be there for Gerald. I want him to live."

I nodded again. How could I deny her this chance? Mags was a very good mentor, she mentored me. She gave me that trident which made me win. Made me come back home. Alive.

Perula sauntered into the train carriage. "Mags, Finnick," she batted her eyes at me, and gestured for us to proceed to the dining carriage. It was time for us to meet our tributes.

When we reached the carriage, our lunch was already laid on the table, the fancy Capitol food laid before us. Ironically, there were a lot of seafood. Gerald and Annie were already seated there, and their eyes looked at us as we entered the room.

I sat down next to Mags, opposite of Annie. Perula sat on my left. "Annie, Gerald, your mentors for this year is Finnick and Mags. Gerald, you will be mentored by Finnick-"

I cut her off. "Perula, just now Mags and I decided to switch tributes. The rules of the Hunger Games allow this, right?" Perula seemed taken aback but she nodded. I smiled warmly at Annie, which returned a very small smile. Mags was sighing, and Gerald was trying very hard not to break down in front of his grandmother.

We ate lunch in silence, and we started to speak until Perula left her seat. "Well," asked Mags, "What is your strength?" Gerald's lips quivered and said, "My spearing?" Mags nodded. "Gerald, your spearing will be very useful, and if I can pool in a trident for you just like I did for Fin, you'll probably win."

I asked Annie, "What about yours? What is your biggest bet?" Annie looked up at me, her sea-green eyes. With a jolt I realized our eyes were almost the same shade of green. Annie was silent for a moment, until she said, "I have no strength." Her voice was very melodious, and very, very uncertain.

I captured her eyes with mine. "Everyone has their strength. Tell me, Annie, what do you usually do at home?" Annie tried to lower her gaze, but her eyes flitted back to mine. "Everything." she replied.

Mags and I exchanged a glance. Everything? Then what did her parents do? Annie seemed to catch this question. "My father... he does nothing. He just drinks beer and knocks himself out silly. In the past mother would help me with the fishing, but she now has to run after father and keep him safe."

"A bit like Haymitch." I joked. The District 12 only winner was famed for being drunk every day, even during the Games. A shadow passed Annie's face. "Far worse," she said, "Far worse." We remained silent for the rest of my breakfast. Mags and I finished at the same time. "Take a bath, relax, enjoy the scenery, and sleep. Once we get to the Capitol you'll be in a rush." I said as we left the table.

APOV

I couldn't make head or tails out of Finnick Odair. He was so kind to me, so good, trying to cheer me up, but in front of the camera he's so flirty and cocky. So different. I looked at the food I was eating. The food apparently from our District, but the Capitol attendants have so many ingredients to go with it. I loathe the Capitol.

When I was full I excused myself, leaving Gerald to eat on his own. The poor boy was still very sad, not he knows he can't die because his own grandmother is mentoring him. But I, Annie Cresta, is different. No-one except my mother cares if I live. It isn't the first time Finnick Odair has mentored a tribute unsuccesfully. He can live with it.

I found my own room, and stepped into the shower. Hot water ran down my bare back. It relaxed my tense muscles. When I finally finished, I got out and lay down on the bed, and looked out of the window. I could see green mountains, and I saw some unknown birds. I sighed. How was Mother doing now? With only her, the Cresta business would soon collaspe. Or not, Father would be left to his own devices. I hope Mother will leave Father on his own.

I turned to the fluffy white bed. It looked inviting, so I decided to take a nap.

When I woke up, Perula was calling me from outside my door, calling me for dinner. Did I sleep for so long?" I combed down my hair and tossed on a dress, than stepped to the dinning cariage. Everybody was already there. "Sorry." I mumbled as I sat down next to Gerald. Finnick shook his head and said, "It's a good thing you're able to sleep." Again, silence reigned the room as we ate. I looked on as Perula tried to catch Finnick's eye in vain. He seemed to have more interest in his food than in the Capitol escort. Finally Perula left.

Finnick and Mags put down their utensils in the same time, and Finnick said, "Annie, Gerald, we both know that there can only be one victor in the Games. But before that, I want you two to get as far from each other as possible."

Gerald and I exchanged a glance. "But aren't we safer together?" asked Gerald. The boy seemed more certain now. Probably had a conversation with Mags. Mags replied for Finnick, "Yes, but then... you wouldn't want to kill each other, would you?" We shook their heads vigorously. "That's our point." she said.

Then Finnick continued to say, "But before you get into the arena, there's still the ride and the interview. Your stylists for this year are good, and you probably won't end as fish." I wrinkled my nose in disgust. The year before Finnick, the 63rd Hunger Games, our tributes were dressed up as silver fish, which did nothing to win the favour of the Capitol.

"So," Mags said, "We expect no complaints. You do whatever your stylists want you to do, you wear whatever your stylists want you to wear."

Finnick stood up and turned to leave the carriage. "Until after the chariot ride, don't hurt yourself. You want to have your best appearance. We'll arrive at the Capitol by tommorrow." Gerald and I gulped.