"Ladies first!" Magnus Splendor crosses to the glass ball with the girls' names. His nimble tanned hand dives into the ball and digs around. He finally pulls out a small slip of paper. Everyone draws in a breath and you can hear a pin drop. I have to admit, I'd be lying if I said I wasn't nervous. Even though I'm from District Two, that doesn't mean I want to be in the Games.

Magnus crosses back to the podium, leaving behind a small trail of blue glitter sparkles from his jet black hair. He smoothes out the slip of paper using his long, lean fingers that are tipped with glittery nails. A smile spreads on his dark lips and he reads out the name in a clear voice, "Ariana Crag."

My name. Me. I'm Ariana Crag.

I remember when I was just a little girl and I was watching a momma bird feeding her chicks from the window ledge. My hand slipped, sending me off balance and falling out the window, two stories down, then landing on my back with a quiet thud. The impact of the hard-packed dirt had knocked every single bit of air from my lungs, and I just lay there, struggling to inhale, exhale, or do anything.

And that's how I feel right now. I can't breathe, I can't move, I can't think. I don't want to go into the Games. I'm not ready to die. Someone is pushing me forward. I catch my breath and glance over my shoulder at a tall girl with blonde hair, a smirk plastered on her face. I don't remember her name, but just by looking at her now I can tell she really isn't the nicest of people.

I look forward again and put a confident smile on my face, trying to hide the small quiver in my cheek and choke back the tears. I keep my head held high as I make my way through the crowd towards the stage. I reach up and tighten my long dark wavy pony tail before I steel myself to climb the steps.

I stand by the podium as Magnus crosses to the glass ball containing the boys' names. My grey eyes scan the crowd and lock on a tall, muscular boy with short blonde hair and sparkling blue eyes that are like the vast ocean. He stands out like a sore thumb. He's beautiful. He's the 'it' boy. He's my best friend. His beautiful blue eyes lock on my boring grey ones and I can tell by the mischievous glint in them that he's going to do something stupid. Oh, my God. No. He's going to volunteer, isn't he? I give a small shake of my head, only so he can notice it. He gives me a small nod back with a smirk.

I don't recognise the name that Magnus calls out. A small boy with dark hair and freckles begins to make his way through the crowd, but the boy with the blonde hair sticks up his hand and lunges through the crowd.

"I volunteer!" he cries.

The small boy stops and turns to see his saviour run past and take three steps at a time up the stage. He stands by Magnus, a wide, cocky, crazy grin plastered on his perfect face.

"Bravo!" gushes Magnus Splendor "That's the spirit of the Games!" He pleased that District Two has at least one volunteer this year. "What's your name?"

I suppress a laugh. Everyone in District Two knows this boy with blonde hair and blue eyes. He's Mr. Popular. Then I remember, the rest of Panem have never seen him. I stare at the boy intently, not aware of the longing look in my eyes.

"Mason," he says loudly down the microphone "Donovan Mason."