Hey, y'all, I've been working on this for quite some time now, and though I know these stories aren't super popular, I have to say, I'm super pumped for anyone who reads this to finally see what I've been working on.

It's been a really, really, REALLY long journey writing this, so it's finally done! Expect an update every other day! Hope you enjoy!

For the first time in a long time, Starla didn't know what was going to happen at the reaping. She smoothed down the ends of her blue and white skirt, something she tended to do whenever she was nervous. Her parents had insisted she spend the whole last week training, and so she did. Halfheartedly, like always. She knew that in order to be in District One, you had to train. So instead of viewing it as a life goal, she viewed it as a security blanket.

If she had to go into the Games, she was ready, she knew that, but if it could be helped - and usually it could - she'd much prefer to stay home. She was seventeen years old. At this point, she'd been through enough reapings that she was half-asleep during the speeches and videos. But when, Diamond, the district's escort pulling out a name, the whole crowd seemed to be awake, pulsing, vibrant, alive.

"Starla Weilder!" It took her a moment to realize it was her name that was called, because she was too busy being baffled by the fact that no one was volunteering. She stayed frozen, looking upon the sea of viable girls, some who had been preparing their whole lives to compete. Out of the corner of her eye, she could see one of the peacekeepers move in a hesitant way, as if they'd forgotten what to do. It had been a while since someone refused to go onstage.

The shuffling of his feet woke her up, and like some memorized routine, she began the long walk up to the stage. She could already see in her mind the members of the Capitol sitting on bated breath, with full knowledge what was going to happen when she finally got up to the stage. They liked suspense, but who could blame them? She figured that from their standpoint, it was just as fictional as the pulp novels sitting in her bedroom.

She blinked a few more times, trying to bring some feeling to the surface other than disbelief. The crowd was silent. No one was volunteering, not one miserable peep. And of course, Starla knew why this year was different. Diamond asked her a few cursory things, like how old she was, if she was excited, and as if she'd memorized lines from a script, Starla replied without thinking about what she was saying too hard.

But before she knew it, she was already forgotten, because Diamond's hand was plunging into the other bowl, moving deliciously slowly, and as soon as she was opening up the slip, a shout rang through the audience. "I volunteer!"

Usually, Diamond can at least get the name out. Starla almost wanted to laugh. As if anyone else would have tried. As if there was someone out there who didn't know whose year it was. There was a reason no one volunteered for her, and that reason was strolling up to the stage as if he hadn't the slightest care in the world. Knowing him, he probably didn't. He had nothing to worry about. Starla, on the other hand…

If she had gotten reaped any other year, any year where Xavier Colmer wasn't slated to volunteer, than undoubtedly she'd be fine. She could feel the shock starting to wear off around the edges, but she hoped it would last at least a little bit longer. The longer the better, really. Hopefully, it would last her all the way to Victor's Village.

-::-::-::-::-::-::-

Xavier relished in the walk up the stage, because if he relished in it, then surely sponsors would. But with or without sponsors, this was Xavier's year. District Two had taken their victory the year before, and Xavier was there to ensure that it did not happen again. The usual questions were asked, and the standard answers were said, just as he'd gone over with the trainer earlier today, and then it was time to shake hands.

He outstretched his hand to her first, and she tentatively grabbed it as if she were afraid to touch him. He looked down at her. Her green eyes darted away just as soon as their eyes met, but it was enough to see the fear in them. Didn't she know already? District One tributes always ally with each other.

That scared, fleeting glance made Xavier feel a little bit unsettled, but he supposed he'd just have to get used to it. After all, he was probably going to be seeing that look a lot in the next month.

-::-::-::-::-::-::-

They sat in a sort of tense silence on the train, waiting for it to start moving. Waiting for everything to start, Xavier guessed. The moment they pulled into the Capitol, everything was going to change. These were their last few moments of being regular kids from the district. Oddly, it made Xavier a little sad to be leaving all of it behind.

He noticed a small chain with a star charm hanging off Starla's neck. He was pretty sure it wasn't there before the reaping, so she must have gotten it as her token. "Nice necklace," he said, in a lame attempt to start conversation.

Her eyes flicked up at him, then down, then back up at him again. "What's your token?" she asked, as if by obligation.

"Oh, uh, I don't have one. No, I just figured there's no need for it. Don't want emotions getting in the way."

She furrowed her brow, and Xavier could see a little crinkle form right in the center of her forehead. "Really?" Starla asked. He shrugged. "I mean, I get the emotions thing but, I don't know, don't you want something to remind you of home?"

"Too late now." He smiled at her, but she wasn't looking at him. He watched as Starla slipped off a yarn-woven bracelet from her wrist. Though she looked vaguely unsure, she took his hand, lightly, still afraid to touch him, it seemed, and slipped the bracelet onto his wrist.

"I made that last week as a good luck charm for the reaping," she started, sounding embarrassed. "Clearly, it didn't do me any good, but maybe some luck will rub off on you. Not that you'll need it."

She stared at the bracelet a long time after giving it to him, and a large part of Xavier felt the sudden urge to apologize and give it back to her, even though he knew he didn't do anything wrong. When she looked away, her eyes were glassy, and without another word to him, she stood up and left the compartment as the train began to lurch forward.

And as she walked away, he couldn't help imagining all of the different ways he might have to kill her.