Disclaimer: I do not own the Hunger Games. All recognizable characters, settings, etc. belong to Suzanne Collins. I only own Rosaline and any other OC's that may pop up.

Snowte: Thank you to all of you who reviewed, Favourite'd, and Story Alert'ed, you guys are amazing! *huggles* This is my first real multi-chap, so I'm glad awesome people like you guys are reading this.

I don't know what else to include, except I'm still looking for a beta for this fic! Just PM if you're interested in this story and don't mind a bit of craziness on my part. :P

As always, read and review!

Hugs,

-Snow

Rosaline Snow POV

Breakfast turns out to be just as drab as the District 13 uniforms.

I squeeze my eyes shut, and open them again. To my disappointment, nothing happens. Closing my eyes and wishing doesn't do anything. I'm still stuck inside the shelter, facing an unappetizing plate of a lumpy greyish gruel of sorts. Sighing, I shovel up a spoonful of the gruel and am about to put it in my mouth when someone taps on my shoulder.

I whirl around, and find myself looking straight at a uniformed woman. "Rosalie Shine! Nice to meet you! I'm Jenelle Steele, but you can call me Jen. Stop eating for a second, you're coming with me." Jenelle says, grabbing my wrist. Okay, it's either Jenelle is taking me to jail where I won't even have the privilege of this gruel and starve to death, or she's taking me to the actual breakfast table with good food. I desperately hope for the latter. I'm confused, though, as Andrea leads me to the front of the room and beside a skinny brown-haired girl.

Jenelle smiles at the brunette and I before walking towards a microphone. She taps on it a few times, and it gives a few painful screeches of feedback before Jenelle can speak. Finally, she does. "Good morning!" Jenelle calls, and there's a clatter as everyone puts their spoons down and looks. I shift uncomfortably, biting my lip as I glance around at the room filled with staring citizens. I resist the urge to smooth my hair and instead curl my fingers into fists.

"As you may or may not know, we were lucky enough to gain two citizens yesterday, the wonderful Rosalie Shine and Amber Leef! Aren't you all just thrilled? Now, I'll have them introduce themselves to you! Rosalie, you're first!" Jenelle says with the enthusiasm of a Capitol girl, gesturing for me to step up to the microphone and "introduce myself". Kill. Me. Now. I think to myself as I step up to the microphone. The rebels don't look exactly thrilled to have me here.

I clear my throat and begin speaking. "Um, hey." My voice comes out raspy, and I cringe at how terrible it sounds amplified over the speakers. There's an awkward silence as I contemplate what to say without slipping up and giving anything away. Jenelle coughs, which I take is a sign that means I should look at her for help. I do, and Jenelle mouths, "Say what District you're from. What you like. What brought you here." Thanks a lot, Jenelle Steele. That would be helpful...if I actually came from a District and wasn't completely lying about my identity!Thinking on my toes, I think of the District that is the most similair to the Capitol. "I'm Rosalie, and I'm from District 1!" I blurt. Jen nods encouragingly at me, but the brunette rolls her eyes sarcastically at me. I gulp, and continue.

Keeping with the District 1 theme, I stutter out all of the information I learned from my tutor. "I was well-off back in District 1...my family sold...diamonds? I came here because..." I trail off, wondering why a rich and glamorous District 1 girl would come to this horrid place. I stammer out the first excuse that pops into my head. "My family died during the rebellion...the memories were too painful..." My voice cracks, which I think adds to the effect. Most of the rebels, especially the younger and trendier ones, look bored and relatively unaffected, but a few sentimental old women dab at their eyes. Jenelle nods at me, and I sigh in relief as I head back to my place. I feel like I've just been interviewed for the Hunger Games by Caesar Flickerman.

It's the other girl's turn. She looks much more at ease as she strides confidently up to the microphone, walking as if she owns the place. "So, yeah, I'm from District 7, and I'm eighteen. The name's Amber, Amber Leef- and don't go laughing about how my last name is like the leaves from the trees in District 7. I've heard that enough." The rebels seem much more interested in Amber. Most of them are looking up at her with curious expressions. If this was a Hunger Games interview, Amber would definitely get more sponsors than me.

Pleased that she has the crowd's attention, Amber speaks again. "If you want to know about me, I'll tell you. There's this old quote, as in pre-Panem old. It goes, 'Genius is one percent inspiration and ninety-nine percent perspiration.' That basically means if you want to succeed, being born into something is only worth one percent, and hard work is worth ninety-nine. Only a month ago, that quote would be flipped. I've worked my arse off all my life and have never reaped the fruits of my labor, while those Capitol-ites never worked a day in their lives and live in luxury. Now, though, thanks to us rebels who fought bravely," Amber pauses, as if letting everyone soak up her words and notice the scars and hard work etched on her face, "That quote is true. I wasn't well off back home like Rosalie Shine here, not lots of people are, but now everyone has a second chance! A shot at a better life! That's why I fight, and that's how I ended up here. To maintain peace and continue the work Katniss Everdeen started."

Everyone in the breakfast room is silent for a few moments, before excited whispers go up in the crowd. The same old women who teared up for me are crying at Amber's words, and all of the young hot-to-trot rebels who snubbed me are waving Amber over and grinning. It's like Amber just held her own personal pep-rally. A pep-rally to get the rebels pumped about her. As much as I hate to admit it, it sure worked for her.

I eat breakfast alone, shoving spoonfuls of gruel into my mouth and attempting to drown out the chatter and Amber's snarky laughter. "Hey, cheer up. I think you did well introducing yourself."

The girl's voice chimes in my ear a moment before I see her. A little girl plops down her tray beside me. I study her carefully. She looks to be about seven, and has doe-like chocolate brown eyes fringed with long eyelashes and stick-straight brown hair that falls to her shoulders. There's something distinctly elfin about her. Maybe it's her doll-esque pink lips, her pert nose, her high cheekbones, or the marble-like brightness to her eyes. "Who are you?" I ask.

The little girl smiles sweetly at me. "I'm Rachel. My sister told me a lot about you." She says warmly, extending her hand. I shake it gingerly, as if I'll break the bones in her tiny fingers. "Who's your sister?" I press, looking at Rachel. I swear I've seen her before, somewhere. Rachel looks confused for a second, before breaking into a laugh that kind of sounds like a bell. "Oh, you don't remember. My sister's Andrea. She was the one who let you in yesterday. You know, she's about your height, brown eyes, brown hair? She's pretty skinny, and she's twenty, but she looks a lot younger." I scowl as I suddenly remember the smirking and laughing rebel who was my first impression of District 13. "Of course. How could I forget?" I remark dryly, and Rachel giggles.

Rachel stops talking, and I take this time to finish up the last slimy spoonful of gruel. I place my spoon back into the metal bowl and onto the tray, and walk over to the table where I leave my empty bowl and tray. When I return, Rachel looks like she's waited hours to talk to me. "There's mandatory viewing today!" Rachel pipes up excitedly. I shrug. Mandatory viewing is nothing special. Since the rebellion ended, there has been a lot of mandatory viewing. Mostly boring stuff, like news on how the Districts are rebuilding and other stupid stuff. Lately, though, it's been getting more interesting, with reports on important Capitol children and teenagers being kidnapped by rebels. "It's probably just something lame, like a documentary on a cake that Peeta Mellark frosted to celebrate the rebel triumph." I comment, rolling my eyes. Rachel laughs again. She's a very giggly girl.

"No, it's different this time! It's really important, so important that Andrea told me everyone's going to watch it on the Big Community Screen instead of their crummy television sets! No one ever gets to watch anything on the Big Screen!" Rachel informs me. About a thousand questions rise up in my mind. "What's the Big Screen?" I want to ask stupidly, but refrain from doing so. Instead, I ask Rachel, "Any clues on what it's going to be about?" Rachel leans in closer, and lowers her voice to a whisper.

"I don't really know, but I've heard rumours that it's going to be a broadcast of President Snow's execution."

Snowte: Okay, so maybe this chapter was kind of rubbish and slow, but it was just so you could sort of see Rosaline's reactions and sort of first few hours in District 13. Also, it helped to throw in new characters like Rachel and Amber and made for the sort-of cliffie at the end. :)

Thanks for reading!

-Snow

PS: To anyone confused about the switch in Rosaline's last name, read the rebuffed version of Chapter 1. I didn't think Finch would work as a last name for a District 1 girl...hence the name change.