Glamor POV

"Hey Glamor!" I turn nonchalantly. Today, it's Valor fighting for my affections, he's in my grade at school. Valor is probably the dumbest boy in District One, and I'm not exaggerating. I mean, he's strong and kind and funny, but if you ask him an algebra question his eyes just glaze over.

"Hey Valor," I respond half-heartedly over my shoulder. I hear his feet stomping up to me. Soon, he's at my side. "Where are you headed?"

"Home," he replies unconvincingly. I give him a funny look.

"You live halfway across town."

He blinks at me. "Well...I, uh, ya see..."

"Valor, if you wanna walk me to my house, just ask."

"Really?" Valor lets out a breath he's apparently been holding. "Ok then."

As we walk, Valor smirks at the jealous boys staring daggers at him and ogling at me. I guess I'm sort of a boy magnet. "You know Glamor, I'm not busy Friday night, and I was thinking that maybe you and I could watch a movie at my place?" We are at my house in the Victor's Village now; a huge sprawling white mansion.

"The truth is, I need a man who is a little more, well, perceptive than you are. Gotta go, bye." Valor takes a second to perceive what I said to him, then his face falls.

"See ya around I guess." He says sullenly as I open the door. I have a feeling that he will be asking his parents what perceptive means when he gets home.

As I enter the huge marble foyer – winning the Games in District One has its benefits – I dash straight to the tandem bathroom that I share with my little sister, Glitz. I turn on the shower and peel off my street clothes, a short skirt that shows off my creamy thin legs and a babydoll tank top, and step into the barrage of warm water. I rinse my long blonde hair and scrub my willowy body with floral scented soap. When I step out, half an hour has gone by. I dry out my long hair and slip on a snow white dress that brings out my sky blue eyes. I add some white eyeshadow, a dab of pink lip gloss, and then I'm done.

As I open the door, I see my twelve-year-old sister, almost a mirror-image of a younger me, but her blue eyes are one shade darker than mine. "My turn!" She gleefully declares. We both share a love for primping.

I take a seat on the large beige couch in the living room, waiting for my mother and father to emerge from their room. About five minutes later, they do. My mother is tugging my father along behind her, her spring green eyes glistening with the triumph of getting him into a dress shirt. She has even combed his strawberry blonde wavy hair so it doesn't look like he just woke up. As for her, she is dressed in a black sheath dress, and her platinum blonde hair, the same exact color as mine and Glitz's, is pulled into a bun on top of her perfect head. In heels, she is exactly one inch taller than our 5'10" father. Without heels, I am exactly one inch taller than him too. Glitz is 5'6 ½".

My father won the 83rd Hunger Games at the age of eighteen, how old I am now. My mother, pregnant with me, was seventeen when he left. I was born on the day he was crowned victor, and I have always wanted to follow in his footsteps. I have been trained by him ever since I knew what the Hunger Games were, and I think that I am ready, and so do most of the other residents of the Victor's Village.

When Glitz finally finishes getting ready, we all walk down to the square. Glitz and I go to our designated age groups while Dad takes his seat on stage and Mom stands in the front. Our District One escort is wobbling around onstage in her ridiculous heels, and she pulls a name out of the ball filled with girls' names. And, unexpectedly, she calls me. I walk up to the stage confidently, and no one volunteers. Probably because they think that I will kill them on the spot if I do.

And they are all right.

Carbon POV

My life is probably the suckiest life in One right now. No joke. Both my parents are dead. I have to live with my best friend and watch his mother die slowly. And now, he wants me to volunteer for the Hunger Games. The same cruel event that killed my brother. He tells me that this will be the only way to save his mother, that if I win, we'll be able to afford the medicine needed to save his mother. What he doesn't say is that if I die, it'll be one less mouth to feed. For them, it's a win-win situation. But not for me. I guess I shouldn't be as angry as I am right now, I mean, they are the poorest family in the Hole, the slums of District One. I would do the same thing if I were my friend, too weak to stand a chance. Maybe he truly believes that I have a chance. Maybe I do have a chance.

By now, I have calmed myself down. Of course, I probably won't get in with the Careers; I am slim and small, and I have never had any Games training to speak of, but I am fast, and I can handle a knife pretty well. I am also intelligent, more than a lot of the Careers can say for themselves, so now's not the time to give up hope.

I am not mad at Sam. I am not made at his sister, Sullia, or his sick mother, Gracia. I am grateful to them, for showing me the truth. I can win this year, just maybe. But I'll take 'just maybe.'

I am at the town square now, about a mile away from our small cottage in the Hole. I walk to the roped off section for fourteen-year-olds. I see many familiar faces from school, but I don't go out of my way to talk to any of them. By now, I am completely calm and relaxed, like how I am every day. Mayor Iven is reading the Treaty of Treason now, and I nearly fall asleep. Then, when the drone of his voice is finally finished, Coranthi Chrissus, our insane escort, walks on to the platform. She wastes no time in wobbling over to the girls' reaping ball and pulls out a poor girl's death sentence. "Glamor Zon!" The words ring out from her painted mouth and resound in my ears, making my heart thud. It can't be Glamor!

As the girl tribute glides to the stage, I draw in an intake of breath. I've had a crush on Glamor since I was ten and she was thirteen. I find it hard to believe that her willowy body would be able to take a punch, let alone pack one, but everyone seems afraid to volunteer for her. Well, she has been in Training for years, so you never know what secrets she holds.

Now, it's time for Coranthi to reveal the boy tribute. She reaches into a huge glass ball filled to the brim with paper.

Please don't be me, I think with ever clack of her heels against the wood. Please don't be me!

"Carbon Night!"

Oh crap, it's me. I shuffle to the stage, trying to hide the zombie look on my face from the cameras as the reality of it all sinks in. I didn't even have to volunteer. But, the girl that I have a crush on is going to try to kill me in about a week.

I'm going to die, I think, but strangely calmly. And if I don't, I'll have to kill Glamor to get home.

Glamor POV

The boy that walks up to the stage, Carbon Something, looks so weak that he could be killed with a toothpick. He'll be easy prey. Then, when he finally gets to the stage, Coranthi orders us to shake hands. I extend my hand, and he does the same. He limply gives my hand a shake, his face possessing a calm expression. I don't think that he gets that I am going to make my father proud by killing him and all the other little weak tributes who try to win. I'm coming home.

Then, a couple of Peacekeepers come in with guns, herding us into the Justice building. They're both shorter than me. I plop down on one of the soft couches in the room, waiting for my family to come in.

The door opens and in rushes Glitz, a broad smile on her face. "You did it! You're gonna win, sis!"

"You're so right, Glitz."

Then, my father and mother come in, huge smiles also plastered onto their faces, probably matching mine.

"We are so proud of you, honey." My mom says, in a calming voice.

My dad is all strategy. "Remember Glam, the Cornucopia is a deathtrap, even for a Zon. Let the stronger Careers get all the weapons, and you'll have your pick. Make sure that they get plenty of knives for you, and definitely a sword or two."

"Got it, Dad."

"That Night kid won't give you too much trouble, but don't waste your efforts on him, go for the strongest first."

"Sure."

"And remember, this is for you, to wear home." My mother pulls out a beautiful golden locket, with a picture of my father when he won the Hunger Games. The other side is blank, waiting. Waiting for a picture of me.

"I love it, I won't let you guys down!" I yell as the Peacekeepers lead them out the door.

And I swear that I won't.

Carbon POV

"You can do it, Car." Sam says, with his sister Sullia weeping on the arm of her chair. Sam tries to comfort his sister as he gives advice to me. "Just don't let your crush get to you, and you'll be fine."

Oh great, he knows. I think bitterly. I wonder who else does?

Then before I know it, they are shoved out of the room by the Peacekeepers. I turn to Glamor, building up the courage to speak to her for the first time. "Allies?" I ask, my voice cracking a little. Dang puberty!

She looks me over. "Are you a Career?"

"Well, not exactly..."

"Then no. I thought that you were too puny to be one after all." She says, with a toss of her golden hair.

Oh well, at least I tried, were the last thoughts that I had as the Peacekeepers come again and push us onto a fancy silver bullet train.

We're heading to our deaths.

Hope you guys like it! Carbon was a little hard to write in, but I had fun 8). Hope I portrayed them well! Remember, every time you review, you save a person's life. ( not really but still). Please R&R!