Cato's POV

Tears on the mausoleum floor
Blood stains the coliseum doors
Lies on the lips of a priest
Thanksgiving disguised as a feast

Rollin' in the Rolls-Royce Corniche
Only the doctors got this, I'm hidin' from police
Cocaine seats
All white like I got the whole thing bleached

As I walk through the hoards of people toward the center of the Square, I can feel someone watching me. Of course someone's watching you, dumbass. Thousands of people are watching you. I banish the thought from my head as quickly as it came, but the uneasiness I feel remains. Yes, people are watching me. Just as they have for the past six years. It's hard to miss us. Hundreds of children, dressed in black as we walk solemnly from the front gates of our Training Center to the center of town where the Reaping is held every year. I take a quick glance to the side, noting that nearly everybody is staring at us with wide eyes, bowing their heads slightly as we pass. A silent gesture of thanks. As much as they fear us, they owe the lives of their children to us. And for that, they are eternally grateful.

I feel something brush against my elbow as I make my way to the check-in table. Turning around, I see no one. The realization hits me and I smile to myself as I look down. Sure enough, it's Clove. She's fifteen, but hardly looks it. Barely skimming five feet tall, she's not much bigger than she was the day she and her sister arrived at the Training Center. The day I knew I would never look at another girl the same way.

"What are you doing here?" I whisper. My voice comes off a little harsh, but I don't mean it. She knows that.

"I just wanted to tell you good luck, that's all." she shrugs.

I laugh, loosening up. "You did. Last night. Many times as I recall."

Clove rolls her eyes and pushes my arm, "I won't see you for a few weeks. I'll miss you."

My Clove, she's so confident in my return. I am as well, but it is as if she has never doubted my victory in the 74th Annual Hunger Games. Not even for a moment. I'd like to say the same for myself, but I have considered the possibility that there may be someone in the arena who can defeat me. The idea is ludicrous, really. I am the strongest in the Training Center. I was chosen for these Games by the time I was fifteen. No one has defeated me, ever. What threat could the other districts pose? District 2 has the most victors, and an extremely organized system to train its future tributes. That combined with the fact that my one and only weakness will be safe here at home, the others are no match for me.

I pull Clove closer to my side, and as discreetly as possible, lean down to kiss the top of her head.

"I'll miss you so much. Everything I do in there, is for you. For us. You are my reason to fight."

Clove says nothing. But she doesn't have to. I know she knows. I release her from my tight grip as we approach the table. There will be a bruise there, no doubt. All the better. It will give her something to remember me by. Not that she needs any more reminders. Her wrists, thighs, and collarbone are covered in bruises and bite marks. She has left her mark on me as well, if the deep claw marks on my back are any evidence.

I reach the front of the line and hold my index finger out to the Peacekeeper, not so much as blinking as she takes my blood.

"Cato Rovati, Male, 18." The Peacekeeper stupidly announces, as if I had suddenly forgotten my own name. I would have been struggling to figure that out for hours, thank you. I laugh to myself though I wouldn't dare say it. Not here. Not today.

I step away from the line, locking eyes with Clove before I turn away. I make my way to the front with the other eighteen year olds. Not surprisingly, they all clear a path for me as I arrive, and I take my place in the front, closest to the stage. Those who train with me in the Training Center know that this is my year, that I will be the one going to the Capitol. Those who don't wouldn't dare stand in my way after seeing the identification tags around my neck.

The stage is empty and the clock reads 1:45. Fifteen minutes to go. I narrow my eyes at the clock, willing it to move faster. I just want to get this over with. The sooner I am on the train to the Capitol, the sooner I can win the Games and return home.

"Ready for your moment of glory?" I recognize the annoyingly high pitched voice before I even bother to see who it's owner is.

"Cassia, my moment of glory will be when I finally get to send my sword through your heart before they declare me the winner. That is, if someone else doesn't kill you first."

Surprisingly, Cassia has enough intelligence to keep her mouth shut. Compared to spending the next week with my sad excuse for a district partner, the arena is nothing. Cassia has always wanted me. Ever since the day we both arrived to the Training Center as twelve year olds, she followed me around like a lost puppy. But I didn't want her then, and I especially didn't want her after I met Clove. But Cassia never quite got over her crush, and has hated Clove ever since.

Every year, the past victors choose two trainees to compete in that year's Games. Only the strongest, smartest, and most cunning are chosen. Most of the time, these are eighteen year old Trainees, like myself and Cassia. But there have been exceptions.

I glance up to check the clock, and my eyes lock with Audrina's. Clove's older sister, and my mentor and best friend. Her sad brown eyes remind me all too well of those exceptions. She gives me an encouraging smile as she takes her seat among the other twenty three District 2 victors. Five minutes to go.

As my eyes scan the crowd for Clove, it occurs to me that if we were really looking for the strongest, smartest and most cunning trainee, she would be going into the arena with me. Clove could defeat Cassia blindfolded with one hand tied behind her back, even with the massive height and weight difference. But Audrina and Enobaria would never let that happen. Not again.

My thoughts are interrupted as Panem's anthem starts to blare through the speakers, bringing me back to reality. The mayor steps forward and begins to tell the long and incredibly redundant story of how the nation was built, followed by the equally boring Treaty of Treason. I tune them out entirely as I brace myself for what I must do. Knowing very well that this could be the last time I see my home. I may be confident in my abilities, maybe even a little arrogant, but I am not stupid. And I have seen far to many Games to know that while the odds may appear to be in my favor, that is not always the case.

Finally, the mayor finishes his long winded speech, and introduces our District's escort, Seraphina. Obnoxious as ever, Seraphina flips her impossibly long and shiny black hair over her shoulder and reaches into the boys' Reaping bowl, stabbing a small slip of paper with her razor sharp, pointed nails. Nothing new there.

"Cato Rovati," Seraphina calls out, scanning the crowd.

My heart drops to my stomach. Surely I didn't hear that right.

"How convenient," Cassia snarls, her voice dripping with contempt.

I look up and meet Audrina's eyes, filled with a mixture of confusion and utter terror. Enobaria nods, and I make my way to the stage, more than a little shaken. I compose myself by the time I reach the podium, but there are still a million thoughts spinning in my head. Why did she call me? What are the chances of that? I know my name is in there seven times, but out of thousands?

I vaguely hear Seraphina ask for volunteers. Of course no one does. They know who I am. They know where I came from. They knew this would be the outcome regardless.

Seraphina gestures for me to move aside as she struts to the second Reaping bowl. I snap out of my daze and force myself to concentrate. I turn around to find Audrina. She is almost directly behind me, her eyes wide with fear, muttering unintelligible words. Enobaria is behind her, her hands wrapped tightly around Audrina's shoulders.

I turn my attention back to Seraphina, but not before catching Audrina's words.

"Something's wrong. This isn't right. It's happening again." She's mumbling the phrases over and over, each time getting louder despite Enobaria's efforts to calm her. What does she mean, this isn't right?

Seraphina reaches her claw-like nail into the girls' Reaping bowl, stabbing a slip of paper dramatically before bringing it closer to her eyes.

"Clove Prescott," she calls out. And I swear my heart stops.

"No!" I hear Audrina scream from behind me, but it is a distant sound.

My head is spinning, millions of thoughts clashing together all at once and I can't concentrate on one thing. I feel dizzy and nauseous and I can't breathe. My eyes find Clove as she extracts herself from the crowd and walks toward the stage. She is completely composed. Her eyes are cold and dead. She shows no fear. Whatever she may be feeling on the inside does not betray her.

"Any volunteers?" Seraphina asks.

The crowd is silent. My eyes find Cassia, silently begging her to step up like she is supposed to. She smiles and slowly shakes her head. Of course not. She hates Clove. She hates me for rejecting her. And now she has been given a chance for revenge, and escaped the Arena with her life.

"Very well then, Mayor?"

The Mayor motions for Clove and I to face each other as he reads the Treaty of Treason. Staring into her eyes, they still look dead, just as she was trained to do. I feel a surge of pride run through me. She was born for this. She was meant for the Games. She is skilled in ways I have never seen, and I have no doubts that she could easily kill everyone in the arena, even me. I come to the decision that I will protect her. Not that she needs it, but I will do everything in my power to keep her alive. And when the time comes that everyone else is dead, I'll kill myself if she won't do it.

"Tributes, shake hands."

I reach out for Clove's tiny hand, gripping it in mine tightly.

"Ladies and gentlemen, your tributes for the 74th Annual Hunger Games, Cato Rovati and Clove Prescott!"

The anthem begins to play, and we are surrounded by Peacekeepers and taken into the Justice Building. Neither Clove or I say a thing as we are lead through the Justice Building and out through the back doors, where a car are waiting to take us, Seraphina, and our mentors to the train station. We don't get an hour to say goodbye to family in District Two. They stopped it once they realized it was pointless, kids in the Training Center don't have family. That's why we're there.

The car ride is awkward at best. Seraphina babbles on about how she's so happy we don't have to waste an hour at the Justice Building, and how we will arrive in the Capitol a day before any other tributes, giving us an advantage. I don't see how that's an advantage, just one more day of being held prisoner in a strange place. Enobaria looks angry. Audrina's eyes swollen, red, and glassy. I can't even bring myself to look at Clove. I need to remain in control of my emotions. There are cameras everywhere, watching our every move. If I show weakness, we won't get sponsors, and I need sponsors if I'm going to keep her alive.

The second we arrive at the train station, the car is surrounded by reporters and photographers. Clove's eyes widen with panic and I find myself wishing I could hold her and never let go. But I can't. Not now at least. We're not just Training Center orphans anymore. We're tributes and we have appearances to keep up.

"I'll show you to your rooms," Seraphina says as soon as the train is moving. "We'll be in the Capitol early tomorrow morning, probably before sunrise."

I nod, following her and Clove down a long hallway. The train is nothing like I've ever seen before. District Two is blessed to be one of the wealthiest Districts in Panem, but compared to the luxury of the train, we might as well be District Twelve.

"Cato, you'll be in this room," she motions to a door on the left of her.

"And Clove in this one," she continues, pointing to the door directly across from mine. "You'll find clothes in the closets, feel free to wear whatever you'd like. Dinner will be in a few hours. You can rest until then."

Without another word, she leaves us. The tension in the hallway is palpable. Clove won't look at me. She reaches for the handle of her door, but I grab her arm and pull her into my room in one swift motion. I shut and lock the door behind us and turn to face Clove. Her back is pressed against the door, and she is looking down.

"Clove," I say, shaking her shoulders. "Look at me. Dammit Clove, look at me!"

"I can't, Cato!" she says, her voice cracking with emotion.

"Why not?" I yell, louder than I meant to.

"Because if I look at you, I'll cry. And if I start crying I'll never be able to stop."

Angrily, I let go of her arms and move to the other side of the room. I reach for a vase on the table and throw it on the ground. Then a lamp. A framed picture of President Snow. A clock that looks expensive. Anything and everything that I can break, I break it.

"Cato!" Clove screams, and I realize I had been tuning her out in my anger. She is standing in front of me, her small hands on my chest. "Cato, stop! Please!"

"Why?" I yell back. "What are they going to do to me? Kill me? Kill everyone I love? Last time I checked they already promised to do that."

"Just stop! This isn't going to fix anything!"

"Maybe not, but it makes me feel better."

Anger and frustration flash through Clove's eyes and she turns on her heel, heading for the door.

"Clo, wait. Wait. Don't leave." I say, grabbing her arm and roughly pulling her back to me. We sit on the edge of the enormous Capitol bed.

"I can't deal with you when you're like this. I don't know what you want me to say, or do. I can't fix this. I don't know why this happened. But Cassia saw her way out and took it, just like any of us would have done."

I shake my head, anger building up in me.

"I have to go, Cato."

"No." I growl, reaching to pull her back.

She's quicker than me, though. She stands in the door frame, her doe eyes examining the disaster that has become my room. She looks up at me, and it's impossible to miss the pain in her eyes.

"Don't look at me like that."

"I'm sorry, Cato. You know there's nothing we can do. It's over."

Human beings in a mob
What's a mob to a king?
What's a king to a god?
What's a god to a non-believer?
Who don't believe in anything?

We make it out alive
All right, all right
No church in the wild

Author's Note: The 74th Annual Hunger Games, from Clove and Cato's POV. Extended version of Glory and Gore. AU. Enjoy! x

For pictures, character descriptions and more please visit the Born To Die blog: borntodie74 . blogspot . com (without the spaces)

Lyrics: No Church In The Wild - Jay Z ft. Kanye West and Frank Ocean