Anya

It was when Anya's plate began to rise did she finally recognize the fear inside of her. When she was picked at the reapings back in District 2, she didn't scream, didn't panic. Instead, she had walked calmly to the stage and waited while Ellie – the escort – asked for volunteers. But for some reason, no girls wantedto volunteer this year. But even then, Anya didn't feel scared. Actually, she didn't feel anything.

Her face was completely impassive during the opening ceremony with the chariots.

During the interviews, however, she put on a whole new act. She had never been on the screen of millions of Panem, even though her parents were insanely rich. And she liked the attention. Her mentor had dressed her in a backless dress that was tight and short. With her long, flowing golden hair and 3-inch heels, the audience immediately fell for her.

During her session with the Gamekeepers, Anya didn't know what to do. She finally settled for the ballet and gymnastics she had learned since she was six (she was fifteen now). Surprisingly, she had gotten an eight.

This and other things had assured her of her winning the Games.

But when she caught her first glimpse of the arena, her spirits were flattened.

She had hoped for something she was at least slightly familiar with. Unlike many of her fellow classmates back at school, she had not trained for the Games. Had not tried to become a Career. She knew she was destined to be famous; a superstar. She never knew how to work for something; her parents gave her everything she wanted.

But she was about to learn.

Because the arena was, as far as the eye can see, a field of grain already harvested.