A/N: Yes, I know. Another Fanfiction. This one is about 'The Hunger Games' though, which makes it awesome fun to write. I read the trilogy a few years ago in the form of library books and loved them, but then they exploded into a movie and got a gazillion fans and I couldn't find the books anywhere. So on my birthday, I used some of my money to buy the trilogy so I would never have to borrow them again. And then I saw the film, WHICH WAS AMAZING! So yeah, here we go. Warning: the chapters will not be as long as in 'All The Right Reasons', mainly because I'm lazy lol.

Dedications: To zoesalvatore for taking me to see the film! Seriously, you are awesome! Also, to all the guys over at 'The Cornucopia' – that's Sasha, Marieanne, Mina, Ashleigh, Zoe, Leila and Laurie. You guys have been brilliant over there!

Disclaimer: I do not, nor will I ever own 'The Hunger Games'. Tis sad. Also, this fanfiction is named after a line in a song called 'Contagious Chemistry' by You Me At Six.

Chapter One
You're not a name you're just a face
- 'Contagious Chemistry', You Me At Six

"Ashby! Ashby, Ashby!"

I wind the net that I am just about to spin out across the miniature ocean in North Square around my wrist as I look out across to see my best friend Ima calling to me. Her golden eyes are bright and wide, shining with tears, but the smile on her tanned face settles my nerves somewhat: she isn't upset. Her brown hair is flyaway, moving slightly in the salty breeze that is omnipresent in District Four, the fishing District of the great country of Panem.

"Ima," I call back, standing on my small platform to talk to her. "What is it? What's going on?"

"Katti is in labour!" she called back, bouncing up and down in her excitement. I almost fall into the water in shock from what she has just said. Katti is her older sister and although she is due to give birth at any time, none of us expected it to be today. Not the day of the Reaping.

I give a short whistle and my platform moves towards the pier where Ima is standing, not fast enough in my opinion. I dump my net in the barrel with my name on it and together we run back across the town towards where Ima's sister lives.

There are three men outside the door in white uniforms, and we curtsey respectfully before we enter the room. They are Peacekeepers, the ones who police the District and stop crime from happening. I remember once when an elderly man who we all called Salmon was caught trying to steal three flatfish to try to feed his eight grandchildren. The Peacekeepers shot him and then hung his head from the Justice Building. They said it was to set an example.

Whatever their motives, none of us hesitate before doing as they say.

Katti, it turns out, has just delivered a baby boy, who's crop of golden hair is already growing. Alden, Katti's husband, is standing beside mother and child, beaming, his work uniform still on as mine is.

"Congratulations, Katti," I say, moving forwards to peer at the child. His eyes are drifting shut, tired as all babies are. He is adorable. "What are you going to call him?"

Katti and Alden look at eachother and Alden smiles gently. "We are thinking of Finnick,"

Ima sighs from behind me, smiling as she approaches her new nephew. "It is a beautiful name," she says. I nod in agreement and then, on reflex, check the time from the clock on the mantelpiece. It is time to go.

"We had better be going, Katti. We'll see you later," I say, moving towards the door as Ima kisses Finnick goodbye. We all know that seeing them later might not happen. Nobody comments on it; everybody refuses to believe that they could be chosen.

The walk through the town towards the Justice Building takes us ten minutes, and I am glad that we won't have to stop at my house to see my father; we would be late, and that would not be good at all. I know that he will already be there, watching from the audience.

We are forced to stop at the steps of the main square to have our names taken before we move on to take our places.

The square is divided into small roped off areas where the different ages are; Ima and I move to stand with the other seventeen year-old girls. From where we stand, waiting impatiently, we can just about see the glass ball filled with hundreds of female names. Mine is in there thirteen times this year. It is nowhere near as many as some of the worse-off people in my District, but it is still thirteen too many times for me to be comfortable with.

The others are already there, standing in place, ready for the Reaping. Hoping and praying that someone else's name will be called out. Refusing to believe otherwise. Ima and I have already spoken about it in hushed whispers, away from the adults who don't like to hear it; both of us are hoping and praying, just like everyone else. Praying that for two Reapings, some other girl's name will be called out. Because by that time, we will be nineteen, and then we will be too old to be named as Tribute for District Four.

Tani, the woman who calls out the names from the Reapings and then helps you alongside your mentors before you go into the Arena, taps the microphone, indicating that things are ready to go and that the Reaping for this years Games are about to begin. An unnatural hush falls over District Four as the adults hope their children aren't called, the children hope they aren't called, and those without children take bets as to who is most likely to be named Tribute.

"Welcome everybody! Welcome to the fifty-first annual hunger Games!" Tani exclaims excitedly. Ima and I share a look with eachother silently before continuing. It is a well known fact around District Four that nobody liked Tani Corse. "My, my, it is wonderful to be back here in District Four with you all, as it always is," she says, like she always does. Her lilac eyes sweep the crowd in front of her and she lets out a small giggle that makes me want to strangle her with the cord off of the microphone that she is talking into. "I had some of your flatfish yesterday on the train, and I must say that your work here is getting better and better!" She beams around at us. She nods to a peacekeeper who presses a button on his remote. On a large white screen hung at the side of the Justice Building, a film begins to play, depicting the story of Panem and the uprising which resulted in District Thirteen being destroyed.

"Now let us get down to business!" she suddenly says when the film is finished, stepping up to the first Reaping Ball. "Let's see about the gorgeous girls." Her claw-like hand fishes around in the bowl for a moment and all I can see is thirteen random strips of paper that represent how many times my name is in there. Her bone-white fingers close on one of them and everything goes silent in the town. Slowly, as if it was a dream, Tani pulls the paper out of the ball completely and steps over to the microphone to announce whose name is on that paper.

Before she even unfolds the paper, I know that it is me. She picked one of the pieces of paper that I was looking at; I know that it is unreasonable and stupid, and I will feel foolish when Ima, my father and I go back to our house in the evening, but I have a feeling of foreboding that consumes me.

Tani unfolds the paper and her cold, lilac eyes scan the square for a moment before she speaks.

"Ashby Ketcalfe."

Ima starts to hyperventilate beside me and I force Lara, a girl from our class at school, to hold her back as I step through the crowd of seventeen year-old girls around us. My father's face pops out through the crowd and I make eye contact with him for a second before I am in the open. Two Peacekeepers step down to escort me onstage.

Each step seems like a mountain to climb, and I force myself to keep on moving upwards. If I stopped, I would never move again and I knew it. Tani extends a hand and pulls me to stand on her right hand side. Ima is on the floor, crying silently. Nobody seems to know what to do to comfort her, but its like I can't feel anything. I feel a little empty, like I am watching someone else's life instead of living out my own.

"And now for the boys," Tani chirps, pulling my attention over to her, again, at the front of the stage once more. She digs her hand in the boy's Reaping Ball for a second (it seems to take much less time to draw out the male Tribute's name than it did for mine) and pulls out another slip of paper. Stepping back, she unfolds it and reads out the boy's name. Marshall Danforth.

I know Marshall Danforth; he is in my team for fishing, and we learned to swim together when we were toddlers. He is seventeen and has short, dark hair and a build that could only be described as Career-ish. Marshall steps up onto the stage and stops on Tani's left hand side, determinedly looking away from me. I understand; there could be a time in the Arena where he would have to kill me, or I him. But Ima has always said that I have a morbid curiosity.

"And now, before we allow our Tributes some time to celebrate, I will introduce this year's mentors!" Tani announces. Being District Four, our Tributes have won a fair few times. Most of our Tributes in the past have become Careers, but there have been the odd one or two who have won it of their own accord, or with a different alliance.

Myself, I have absolutely no intention of joining sides with the Careers. It's a decision that I have always been sure of, and there is no way that I will be changing that decision now that I will be going into the Arena myself. Whatever Marshall Danforth does is up to him. He's certainly big enough to get away with being a Career.

"This year it will be James Wellbeck and Carolyn Highgate. If you will cast your minds back, Mr Wellbeck won the forty-ninth Hunger Games and Miss Highgate won the fortieth Games!" Tani continues, as the two mentors come onstage. There is a polite smattering of applause and they smile and wave.

The rest of Tani's speech is drowned out as my mind wanders around. The next thing I know, two Peacekeepers are marching my up the steps of the Justice Building and I am ushered into a large room with beautiful furniture and what I am sure is gold-plated wallpaper.

The door handle turns and in steps my father with Ima, who is still crying silently, tears trekking down her cheeks. Her eyes are puffy and red and my father looks half like he wants to murder somebody (my stomach jolts as I think this; that will be my job in the Arena) and half like he wants to beg the Peacekeepers to let me go.

"We have two minutes only," my father says in a gruff voice, coming forward. He hands me a rope bracelet with a few wooden beads threaded into it. Painted intricately onto each bead is my family's insignia. I understand immediately that it was Ima who made it - she always has been very artistic. It's as ingenious as it is beautiful; the bracelet allows me both to remember my father and my family, but also to remember my best friend. I allow Ima to tie it around my left wrist and wipe away a few of her tears.

"Ashby, your best chance in that Arena is to use your knives. You might be good with the nets and the spears here, but there will be different circumstances in that Arena. You will not be firing a spear at a fish in some water: you will be firing a spear at a human being in the same circumstances as yourself through air. You know that you are good with your knives, so go with that method and you should be fine.

"Secondly, I have spoken with Marshall's mother and father. They say that he would never hesitate to ally himself with you, but don't put all your trust in that. He could kill you with his eyes closed.

"Thirdly, be smart in there, especially in Training. You need to learn about what to eat and what not to eat, how to make fire, how to make shelter. Learn that and then use your private Training sessions to practice with your knives."

My father scrutinises me before pulling me in for a hug. Ima steps up, her face determined.

"I don't care what you have to do in there, Ashby Ketcalfe, but you had just better make it home." she says fiercely, and I am surprised at her. She is usually so opposed to all things violent and is terribly squeamish. But no-one, not even me, could doubt the force behind her words.

I nod and hug them both.

"I love you and if I don't win, remember-" I begin as two Peacekeepers enter the room.

"You will win!" my father shouts as he is forced to leave the room. I feel tears threaten to fall, but resist. There is no way that I will cry, not today.

The Peacekeepers push me towards the back door of the Justice Building and I am ushered onto the train that all of the Tributes board. I enter the main carriage to find James Wellbeck, one of my mentors, sitting in an armchair. His face, usually so amused and open around the District, is stony. He starts as I enter and he looks up at me carefully.

"Welcome to the Tributes train, Ashby Ketcalfe," he says dryly. "There's a room for all of us. I would say go and claim one, but Tani's already allocated each of us a room, and she's a bit OCD about things like that."

"Thanks for the heads up," I reply, not too sure what else I could say to him. Sure, he's my mentor and I suppose I'd better get used to him, but he is James Wellbeck: I can remember him at school, before he went into the Arena two years ago. He was the most popular boy there, as well as the best looking; as it is, he's only twenty now, and his good looks have only gotten better. He was one of those Tributes that sided with the Careers, but he didn't stay with them for long - he cut away from them, killing two Careers with knives (it is still one of the most spectacular scenes I can remember from the Games, being good at throwing knives myself - it stuck in my mind).

Marshall and Carolyn enter the room and sit down in the armchairs around James, who is still watching me as I take my time walking towards them and sitting down myself.

A/N: So there's the first chapter. I thought I'd add a new Fanfiction up, just to get myself started, because I'm currently on study leave (YAYS!) and I'll have more time for writing in July and August. Keep an eye out for new chapters and oneshots and such!

-Lauren