Chapter 1

Dying is easy. Living is hard. - Gayle Forman

The atmosphere in the Town Square of District 2 is hectic, and all around me are citizens buzzing with excitement. To make it all better, it's my name that's on everyone's lips. Clove Aiden, the one to beat. I've earned my own reputation in this town, believe it or not, through ten long years of training and preparing for this day. I'm pacing back and forth anxiously, dark brown ponytail swinging from side to side. Cracking my knuckles, I glance across the aisle separating the boys and girls at my district partner and opponent in the upcoming Hunger Games, Cato Greyson.

His blonde hair is spiked up in that perfect, messy way, his signature smirk in place. He's the ideal District Two tribute: strong, attractive, arrogant, prepared, intimidating. Clinging to his arm is Adelina Vanderbilt, the mayor's daughter and Cato's girlfriend of two years. As far as the rest of the district is concerned, Cato and Adelina are desperately in love, and I'm the only one who knows otherwise. It was only two weeks ago, after all, that Cato and I were secretly hooking up in the showers above the training center. A shaming deed, I'm aware, but each of us vowed never to speak of it after that night.

As for Adelina, she's basically the very definition of perfection, with flowing blonde hair, striking blue eyes, and a figure to die for. Since she's the mayor's daughter, her only real responsibility is to attend fancy events with her father, stand still, and look pretty. It's a simple, tedious life, and at times she even seems to envy the students at the academy, probably because we at least have some kind of purpose in life, even if it is to participate in a death match where the only rule is kill or be killed.

The tributes in training come from some of the wealthiest families in the district, and almost all of us are blood-related to a previous victor, whether it be a sibling, parent, aunt, or uncle. More often than not, victors marry other victors, therefore creating offspring twice as ruthless as their already brutal parents. I am the only daughter of victors Baron Aiden and Robin Eve, who married solely for the purpose of reproducing. Love isn't a word in their vocabulary, and I have wondered on multiple occasions whether they would even miss me if I died in The Games. If anything, my family would probably see me as a disgrace if I returned home in a coffin. That being said, my only real option is to win this thing and come home alive.

Anyway, today is the most anticipated event of the year, Reaping Day. Practically everyone in the district is hung over from the Reaping parties last night, with the only exception being me and Cato. We were forbidden by our trainers to have so much as a single drop of alcohol, because apparently it would put us in the "wrong mindset" for this very important day.

Sighing, I avert my attention to the stage, which is now occupied by the outlandish District 2 escort Rhiannon Pearl. Rhiannon, whose outfit today includes an obnoxious maroon hat and shimmering gold lipstick, has to be one of the most ridiculous, pompous citizens of the Capitol. A drama queen if you ever knew one, she commands the attention of every single person in a room the moment she enters. Pursing her lips, she scans over the crowd of energetic citizens, probably trying to guess which two of us will be volunteering. I highly doubt she'd ever suspect me, one of the tiniest ones in my age category.

At last, the clock strikes noon, and Rhiannon begins the long, drawn out speech about the rules and regulations of The Games that every single person in the square has heard dozens of times. I roll my eyes, tucking a stray strand of hair behind my ear. This lady really needs to speed things up a bit.

"And now," there's a dramatic pause as Rhiannon walks over to the bowl of girls' names, heels clicking against the stage loudly, "for the girls."

Her perfectly manicured hands fish around the bowl for a good 30 seconds, and when she finally selects a slip of paper, I take a deep breath. This is it. This is the last second of my life that I'll merely be a trainee, for from this next moment on, I'll be a tribute and, in a couple weeks, a victor. "I volunteer as tribute," I say proudly, stepping forward so that everyone can put a face to the voice.

As I head up the stairs to the stage, the eyes of everyone in District Two are on me and me alone, sizing me up, deciding for themselves whether or not I'm worthy of competing in The Games. Even Rhiannon, with her two-inch long fake eyelashes, stares at me curiously, probably trying to guess what my weapon of choice is.

"What is your name, dear?" Rhiannon finally asks, passing me the microphone.

"Clove Aiden," I smirk, knowing damn good and well that everyone already knows who I am. Apparently my birth had been a largely publicized event in the Capitol as well as District 2, since I was the child of two victors.

"Now, ladies and gentlemen, for our male tribute," again there is pin drop silence throughout the square as Rhiannon unfolds a white slip of paper from the reaping bowl, but she doesn't even get to read the kid's name aloud before Cato is lunging forward to volunteer.

His eyes glint with maliciousness, and something about the thrill in his voice as he volunteers makes me question his sanity. He stares directly into the lens of the camera as he heads up to the stage, delivering a dangerous smirk. Damn, he's good at this.

"And what is your name?"

"Cato Greyson," he declares, and his raspy voice echoes through the square.

I reach out my hand to him, and he shakes it. His hands are rough and callused, and I can't stop the memories of that night from flooding back into my mind. The way he'd touched me had been so gentle but so commanding at the same time. It was the only one night stand of mine that I literally couldn't erase from my mind, no matter how hard I tried. It was odd, and he'd literally kill me if he knew I still thought about it now and again.

Rhiannon's voice snaps me back into reality when she exclaims, "Let's give it up for the District 2 tributes, Clove Aiden and Cato Greyson!" At that point the crowd literally goes wild, cheering and applauding and hooting and whistling for us. But before I can even enjoy the chants of my name that are coming from the crowd, Rhiannon's cold, bony fingers are pushing me through the heavy double doors of the Justice Building, and I wonder for the first time in my life if I will actually be able to kill Cato Greyson.

Food. Food is everywhere, and I'm not allowed to eat a single damn bite of it until dinner, which might I add isn't for 4 more hours. Cruel, I know. Everywhere I turn, there's a bagel or a bowl of ice cream or a slice of cake calling my name, but I'm forbidden to even touch it until 7 o'clock tonight. This train is like heaven, but the people on it are hell.

I must admit, I've grown to enjoy Cato's company over the past few hours of being stuck on this hellhole on wheels, considering he's literally the only one willing to crack a joke and lighten up the mood every now and then. Rhiannon is driving me insane, with her strict schedule and perfect articulation and annoying accent. Enobaria is constantly judging me, looking me up and down, smirking the slightest bit to expose those pointy little fangs of hers. And Brutus…don't even get me started on him. He's one of the most emotionless, stolid people I've ever spoken to, and keep in mind that I was raised in District 2. Maybe it was The Games that turned him into such a detached human being, or maybe he's just that cold-blooded. Either way, he's scary, so I avoid him at all costs.

Still, Brutus and Enobaria know what's going on in this situation better than any of us since they've experienced it firsthand, so when they talk, I listen, acting like the obedient little tribute that I was trained to be.

"Let's talk about your angles, shall we?" Enobaria says, inspecting both of us carefully. See, she's doing it again. She's judging me, and it's making me very uncomfortable.

"These two seem different, E," Brutus says, no hint of emotion anywhere on his face. "Don't you think?"

Oh, and that's another thing. They have nicknames for each other. Brutus is B and Enobaria is E. Creative, right? Something has to be going on between them, even though both of them are "happily" married to other people. At least neither one of them has kids. God, can you even imagine having one of these killing machines as your parent? My parents may not be the sweetest cups of tea, but at least they don't constantly look at me like they want to eat my face off.

Enobaria nods. "You," she says, looking me straight in the eye, "I think we could go many different directions with you. Maybe sardonic bitch, or flirty ki-"

"No," Brutus cuts in. "Not flirty. She's 15 fucking years old, for heaven's sake. Let's say she does win this thing. Do you really want her to come out of those games like some kind of sex icon? You know what happens to those victors, E. Take Finnick Odair for example, or even yourself!"

"Enough," Enobaria snaps at him, exposing her fangs dangerously, "Not one second more of that nonsense."

It's obvious that he's hit a nerve, because when no one else says anything, Enobaria stands up and speed walks in the direction of her room. I've heard rumors that a few of the more popular victors are forced by the president to sell their bodies to the Capitol citizens, but I never actually thought there was any truth to it. And what's even more shocking is that Enobaria is one of them too. Her angle in the games certainly wasn't flirty, but apparently there are people out there who prefer something a little less giggly and a little more dangerous.

"Shit," Brutus mumbles under his breath, immediately standing up and following her hurriedly.

"Well that was…uhh…" I trail off.

"Yeah," Cato replies, staring directly ahead, deep in thought.

"Do you really think Snow makes them…you know?"

"It definitely seems like something he'd do," answers Cato.

The very concept of being forced to sleep with Capitol people is enough to make me sick to my stomach. Standing up from my spot on the couch, I slowly walk towards the window of the train and stare blankly at the hordes of trees that we speed by. What the hell have I gotten myself into?

The train ride to the Capitol from District 2 is fairly short – only about 12 hours – so once dinner ends, we only have about 5 hours left. The atmosphere is still pretty tense after what happened between Brutus and Enobaria earlier, but she seems to be getting over it. I want to ask her about it, but I really don't feel like having my throat ripped out, so I keep my mouth shut.

We all settle down in the living room after dinner and dessert, which might I add was absolutely amazing, for the recap of the Reapings. Rhiannon babbles incessantly about shit that no one cares about, but she finally shuts her trap when Caesar Flickerman appears onscreen in a royal blue wig with matching eyebrows. She stares at him in awe, and I roll my eyes at her stupidity. Here we are en route to a fight to the death, and she's batting her fake-ass eyelashes at the television screen, as if he can actually see her.

The program starts off with a pre-recorded interview with Seneca Crane, asking him about his thoughts on this year's tributes. Obviously, he's impressed with the Careers from 1 and 2, but he also says something about a volunteer from an outlying district, causing me to furrow my brows. No one ever volunteers in the outlying districts. It's basically a suicide mission.

The screen then cuts to the Reapings that occurred earlier today. The District 1 tributes seem typical. The girl, Glimmer, reminds me a lot of Adelina – appearance wise at least. Glimmer seems kind of ditzy if you ask me; she'll be easy enough to get rid of when the time comes. As for the guy, Marvel, he looks useful enough. He's built about the same size as Cato, and he seems pretty friendly. Well, as friendly as a trained serial killer can seem.

When it cuts to the District 2 Reapings, even I must admit how intimidating we look. Both Cato and I have the whole bite-your-face-off kind of attitude practically radiating from our bodies. Granted, Cato is at least a whole head taller than me, but something about my smirk let's you know I'll definitely be a threat, despite my size. I can see the wheels in Enobaria's head spinning as she tries to come up with the perfect angles for both of us.

The rest of the program is pretty dull, to be completely honest. I was sort of hoping that District 4 might have actually produced some tributes worthy enough to be in the Career alliance this year, but of course, they look like the usual weaklings that have been coming from 4 ever since Odair won a few years back.

We'll definitely have to look out for the guy from 11 once we're in the arena, considering he's about the same size, if not larger than Cato and Marvel. If he gets a decent enough training score, however, we might even ask him to join the Careers.

Alas, it's District 12 that produces the volunteer that Seneca Crane was talking about. At first, some tiny 12 year-old is reaped, and a part of my heart breaks for her although I could never ever reveal that to anybody. I'm supposed to be a heartless bitch, not some kind of compassionate teenage girl. Anyways, I'm surprisingly relieved when the kid's sister Katniss volunteers in her place. Now, at least there's only one 12 year-old – the girl from 11 – going into the arena this year. Katniss doesn't seem to pose too big a threat, and she obviously knows that, considering she hugs her sister like it's the last time she'll ever see her again. After the boy from 12 is reaped, Caesar Flickerman reappears on the screen, rambling on about his excitement for The Games and blah blah blah blah…

Enobaria and Brutus immediately start talking alliances and strategy with Cato and I, and Rhiannon excuses herself to her bedroom, obviously bored with our conversation. When we're about an hour from the Capitol, I feel myself drifting in and out of consciousness as the faint sound of the train rolling along the tracks lulls me into a light sleep.

I'm woken up with a start when Enobaria nudges me (pretty forcefully, to be honest) on the shoulder. "Get up, kiddo, we're 10 minutes away from the Capitol," she says before taking a bite out of a bagel she's holding in her hand. God, words can't even explain how weird it is to watch a human eat with fangs.

I groan loudly, standing up from the couch and cracking my back and neck. The time is about 2 in the morning, according to the ancient grandfather clock across the room. I stroll over to the buffet table and grab a chocolate chip cookie, aka my new favorite food ever. Throwing my head back in bliss, I eat the delicious cookie, and then another, and another.

"Clove," Enobaria eyes me while I'm in the middle of eating my 4th cookie, "what the hell do you think you're doing?"

"Eating a cookie?" I say innocently, looking up at her with doe eyes. One of the first things they told us when we got on the train was to limit ourselves with the desserts, because apparently eating sugar too often will make us start craving it in the arena when we can't have any. Whatever. This could potentially be the last week of my life; I'm eating whatever the hell I want to.

"No more," she warns, exposing her fangs so that I know she's serious. I shoot an unconvincing shrug in her direction, and she rolls her eyes as she walks away, annoyed and unsatisfied.

"We're almost there," Cato says before staring out the window in awe. I glance out too, and I have to keep my jaw from dropping when I catch sight of the infamous Capitol. It's gigantic. I'm practically giddy with excitement when we pull into the overcrowded train station. It's one in the damn morning, yet half the Capitol is here in the train station screaming like little children on Christmas morning and practically fainting when we so much as glance at them. It's everything I imagined and more.

"Welcome to the Capitol," Rhiannon says enthusiastically as she walks up from behind us, seemingly emerging from midair. The only thing that could make this moment better would be for her annoying ass self to disappear again. She motions hurriedly for us to follow her out of the train and onto the platform, and we trail her in a daze, still dressed in our attire from the Reaping. This entire situation still feels so unreal.

When I step off the train, I'm hit by a wall of screaming Capitol people, all of whom are acting quite immature. Nevertheless, I'm beaming as Rhiannon, Enobaria, Brutus, Cato, and I pause multiple times to smile for different photographers.

Half an hour and dozens of pictures later, the five of us file into the elevator to head up to District 2's floor, which Rhiannon is rambling on about aimlessly. My eyelids feel heavy, and I yawn. The elevator dings as the doors slide open, revealing an extravagant, enormous, colorful suite.

"It's wonderful, don't you think?" Rhiannon exclaims, smiling widely. "Clove and Cato, your rooms are down that hallway. The dining room and kitchen are right around this corner, and there's the living room right over there."

Cato and I give absentminded nods, more preoccupied with admiring all of the modernized furniture and décor.

"Now," says Enobaria, preventing Rhiannon from saying anything more, "you two have a long day tomorrow, so I recommend getting a decent amount of sleep. I need both of you awake and alert by 9, and we'll be heading to the Remake Center for 10. Understood?"

Nodding obediently, we head off in the direction of our rooms. My room, like everything else in this place, is overly sized, with a king sized bed, a fully stocked closet, and a fully equipped bathroom. Kicking off my tennis shoes, I climb into the satin sheets, and I'm asleep before my head even hits the pillow.

Hiii! So first of all, thank you so much for reading this first chapter. I have a ton planned for this story, so please bear with me through these first few chapters. I know this chapter wasn't very eventful, but once the games start, things will definitely pick up – I promise! Anyways, please please pleaseee leave me a review and let me know what you think of this, whether or not I should continue, etc.. The amount of feedback I get on this chapter is going to determine whether or not I keep going with this story. You honestly have no idea how much it means to me when I get a new review, favorite, or follow on a story :P

On another note, check out my other story, which I'll hopefully be updating within the next week. It's a Modern Day AU Clato story, so if you liked this, you'll probably like it :)

Again, thanks for reading & please REVIEW – I'm begging you!

~xoxo~