Synopsis: In the 74th Hunger Games, Clove wasn't picked as the tribute for District Two; instead, a local girl named Rylin was selected. Sharp, manipulative and dead set on winning, Rylin believes she has what it takes to beat anybody out-including fellow tribute Cato. But as she grows closer to the careers over their time in and out of the arena, will she be able to turn on them to win in the end?

This chapter rated T for language, CatoxOC, with future M themes.

A/N: La la la, I actually have motivation to write this story, hopefully it stays (: 3 I find it strange I listened to Skrillex as I wrote Rylin's side, and Taylor Swift when I wrote Cato's… ah well, enjoy chapter 2! Any feedback is appreciated!

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Call me crazy, but I was actually looking forward to training today. Maybe it was because I had a point to prove-I loved proving people wrong, especially when they thought they knew me or knew about me. Despite the fact I was still sore when I woke up, I realized that wasn't something a few stretches couldn't fix. But first…food.

After eating a breakfast fit for a full grown man-and consequently feeling as if my stomach would burst-I did my usual morning routine. Brush the teeth, wash my face, brush my hair, the works…I changed into the clothes designated to be worn in the training room. I noticed as I went to pull on the jacket that my arms were virtually immaculate-no mark from the previous day's injuries was visible. 'Maybe the Capitol does know what it's doing,' I thought, before pulling on my pair of shoes and heading into the main room.

As I suspected, Cato was already long gone. According to Kelvin, he had gone down to train immediately following breakfast-which we hadn't spoken a word over, by the way. Apparently the fact we held a conversation the previous day meant nothing, not that I was complaining. I had to concentrate on ideas on how to take Kelvin down, since our three consecutive win bet was still on.

Make that two people I had to prove wrong.

Heading out into the hallway alongside my mentor, I rolled back my shoulders and held my head up high. As we entered the room, I led the way over to our allotted spot and waited for him to set up across from me. He had just begun to ask a question when I simply nodded.

"Who's starting it off?" he inquired, and I made a motion indicating he should. As he charged towards me, my plan from the night before came to mind. I stood completely still until he was a few steps away, before dropping to my knees.

I intertwined my fingers, clenching my fists and drawing them back. I swung them as hard as I could towards him, similar to the way one would swing a baseball bat. As my hands crashed into his ribs, I heard Kelvin expel his breath in a quick puff, and he went off balance. He staggered to the side, and it was then that I pounced.

Already on the floor, I swung a leg out and connected it to the area right behind his knees. Having not been steady to begin with, his knees buckled, and his form began to fall to the ground. I took advantage of this, and lunged towards him; my fingers clenched his throat as we landed on the ground, and my knee dug into his stomach to prevent movement.

He was silent for a moment as he stared up at me. I wasn't sure what his reaction would be, but his face broke into a smile as he spoke. "Nice, Ry. One down, two to go."

The time passed slowly, and I knew as our second fight went on I would be needing more of that salve tonight. We went back and forth during the battle, but ultimately, I came out on top-a cheap shot I took the advantage of when the opportunity presented itself made sure of that. There was only one more fight I had to win, and I would make sure I didn't fail….mostly, because I didn't think I could handle another day of Kelvin beating on me.

As I prepped for the third fight, I took a chance to observe the activity in the room. Most of the careers were practicing with weapons, and I couldn't help but notice how much some of them sucked. I mean, District 1 girl with a bow? If that had anything to speak for her aim, if she fell I think she would miss the ground. The other District 1 Tribute was practicing with a spear, and he seemed decent enough. Most of the others were scattered, or engaged in survival training. That's where Cato was, along with both District 11 tributes-engaged in an exciting lesson of knot tying. I'm sure he just couldn't contain his excitement.

Turning back to Kelvin, I gave him a sharp nod. "Alright, lets go," I told him, and there we were-in the midst of battle three. My determination drove me to give it every ounce of energy I had, but I was pretty much getting my ass beat. His punches were so fluid and quick they were nearly impossible to deflect, but I wouldn't let that deter me. I went in for an uppercut and landed a punch on his jaw, but despite the fact I heard his teeth click together and his head snapped back, it didn't seem to affect him much. He landed a well-placed kick on my rib, and since I was already so close to him, the extension of his leg sent my soaring back onto the ground.

I landed with a thud, and I opened my eyes just to see him coming down in a lunge in what would finish me off if we were in the midst of the games. As he was over me, however, I drew my knees up to my chest and rolled back on my shoulders. I kicked my feet up as I continued to roll backwards, and the movement sent Kelvin soaring right over me-and, like I had the bad luck to do yesterday, right into the rack of weapons.

There was a loud noise as they fell onto the ground, and he rubbed a gash made on his arm from one of the weapons as he stood. I straightened up myself, prepared to go at him, but he held his hand up. "You're good, Ry. You win," he told me, making me drop my raised fists and relax a bit. Even though it had just ended, I could feel how sore my muscles were, and I was ready for a break-I was so drained, I didn't even have the energy to celebrate my victory.

I watched as Kelvin moved off towards some of the other mentors congregated in the back of the room. I bent over, hands going to massage my legs-the tension was beginning to build up in them already. I heard footsteps echoing off the ground, the sound becoming louder as they moved closer. I saw a pair of shoes stop in front of me, and a masculine voice took the liberty of speaking. "Shouldn't you be practicing? Especially if you want any chance of surviving on your own…"

I could hear a bit of a sneer behind the words, and I regrettably straightened up, my eyes landing on Cato. As was his usual custom, his arms were crossed across his chest and a high-and-mighty expression was slapped on across his face. It was clear from the faint flush on his cheeks and the tiny beads of perspiration dotting his face he had been training just moments before.

And he had taken time out of his ever so busy schedule to come see me. Well, aren't I just so lucky…

"Excuse me?" I asked, my voice full of disbelief. "Shouldn't you be worried about yourself?"

"I don't have to worry about myself; I'm perfectly capable of performing up to par. You, however, I'm not so sure."

"And what gives you any right to judge if I'm spending enough time training or not?"

The beginning of a smirk forming at the corner of his lips, Cato gave a quick shrug. "I'm just making sure you'll be an….interesting fight, once it comes down to it. That, and I don't want you to be dead weight on the alliance."

I felt a bit of anger flare in my chest, and I glared at him indignantly. "Dead weight?" I questioned, still not fully believing the fact he had basically said I wasn't able to make it on my own.

"Yes, as in, you'll only hold us back-"

Without letting him finish, I turned to the rack beside me-the one I hadn't knocked over. I reached in, one hand grasping a bow and the other an arrow. Quickly, I turned towards the targets situated in front of us, and drew the string back, arrow in hand. Aiming for only a second, I released the string, watching the arrow soar through the air-and land dead in the middle of the bulls eye painted on the target's chest.

Had I not learned the fine facts of practicing with a bow from a young age, I would have been in trouble in pulling this stunt. However, I had nearly six years of experience under my belt; and as a result I had full confidence in myself that I knew what I was doing. As soon as it landed, I turned to Cato, pushing the bow into his chest so appraising his reaction. "You can call me dead weight once you learn how to do that flawlessly. I suggest you get practicing," I told him sharply, before turning on my heel and heading in the direction of the dummies.

…. Cato's P.O.V. ….

With the days until the games winding down, I knew I had to make sure our alliance was concrete. I wasn't about to let some idiot who had it in his head to jump one of us do so-he would only meet a premature death.

Well, more premature than was necessary, at any rate.

Even with the fact that I knew our company was well rounded and equipped for basically anything, I couldn't help but think something was missing. There was Marvel, able to use a spear with expert ability. Glimmer, who….well, she didn't really have much to help her out but sex appeal. Half the time as I spotted her in the training room, I thought the only good reason to keep her around was to have something to look at-and maybe someone to screw. She was all over me, but it wasn't like I could complain. She was good looking, one could even say sexy. However, in a place where you were fighting to survive, that wouldn't exactly help you out. My main concern was I didn't want to have to look after her-she could fight decently enough, but I was sure there were better fighters out there.

We had some who were intelligent, I was sure that would come in handy as well. Despite everything we had, however, there was one thing we were missing-a long range fighter. Marvel was good, don't get me wrong; but a spear couldn't go as far as, say, a bow.

This is where things started to make me angry. It was custom for the careers to stick together-they always did. They came from the well-to-do districts, ones that had money to spend on training their children from a young age. They took out all the weaker competition before splitting apart and turning on each other, which was when the real fun began.

But could everything go smoothly? Of course not. Didn't it figure the year I was selected to be in the games, somebody had to come along and throw everything out of sorts. What did Rylin have to gain by disagreeing with us, by not joining our alliance? Nothing but a quick death and absolutely no chance at the games-I could guarantee she would be one of our first targets.

I tried to convey that to the girl, but of course she didn't listen. It would almost be a shame to kill her off so early in the games-I was sure she would make a good fight near the end. From what I observed today, she was fairly skilled-with both a weapon, and hand to hand. But she most certainly had a temper; that could ultimately be her downfall. Still, he option of joining us was open until Friday, at which point she would be permanently labeled as an enemy and chased after like the first buck of hunting season.

I couldn't let the matter burden me; I had more important things to worry about. Three days left until the games were a go, and I still had some training I had to finish up. I wasn't leaving any weapon untouched, just in case my usual wasn't there. The game makers were liable to do anything, and if I didn't practice with other weapons there was a chance I could be at a serious disadvantage.

Moving out into the living room of sorts, I made my way down to the table laden with different type of drinks. I snatched a bottle of water from the back of it, before making my way to the couch. I sat down, kicking my feet up onto the table before a piece of paper caught my eye. I leaned forward, grabbing it and raising it to eye level so I could study the loopy handwriting adorning it.

Cato;

Meet me on the top floor at 9:30

-Rylin