Hey it's me! Okay it's been a while :L

I have been busy and that is no excuse, but here I am!

Please tell me what you think and if I should post the next chapters or not:)

Thanks!

Aisling x

I can remember hopping from one pave stone to another in the summer rain, our small clammy hands linked. I can remember our chalky fingers swirling patterns on each other, and painting streaky pictures on the walls outside. I can remember sharing a fresh loaf of bread smuggled from your bakery, and the welt on your shoulder the shape of a rolling pin. We used to walk home from school together too. I'd try to talk to you, tell you about the pointless things happening in my life. You didn't listen. You'd watch her, and I'd pretend not to notice. I could see you trying to pluck up the courage to speak to her and failing miserably. But you had me.

Well, why settle for me, when you could have her? She was beautiful, smart, and talented.

What was I? Stupid, dumpy Delly.

I tried to hate her, but I couldn't. I look in the mirror and try to make myself look just like Katniss. But my thin blonde hair won't braid, my stomach wouldn't suck in, and my ruddy cheeks shined. Peeta would never love me.

The Justice Building is cold, as is the chair I am sitting on. I know the man sitting across from me. Seneca Crane, head Gamemaker. I sit on my hands, but they won't stop shaking. His dark eyes are focused on me, unblinking, emotionless. We sit like this for a few minutes, before he begins to speak.

"Adelaide-"

"It's Delly." I say automatically. Shit. Why'd I do that? Let him call you what he wants, Delly.

"Delly." he tastes the word, just as you'd taste a sour sweet. "As you are aware, the Reaping takes place in a few weeks."

I nodded. No one could forget the date of the Reaping.

"Now, Adelaide, tell me what you thought about the recent Games."

He'd asked me here for my opinion? On the Games?

"Very well done, sir." I reply tentatively. It felt like I was walking on eggshells. "I liked the, uh, deaths" Just stop talking Delly.

He throws his hands down on the table and leans so close to me that his face was inches from mine.

"Liar" he hisses. "I know the ratings, the reviews. I can see it in your face, girl." He throws himself backwards, and begins to pace the room. "What we need this year, is a change. Something different, something that grabs the audience's attention."

I sit there, watching him, as he paces like a madman. Why is he telling me this? Cranes hands twitch, and his eyes glint.

Seneca Crane turns slowly, before shuddering to a halt in front of me. He leans in, and whispers,

"What we need, Adelaide… is you."

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