Once again, Hunger Games are NOT MINE. I wish, but they aren't. I own most of the characters used in this fic, except those created by Collins herself. Enjoy.

Now comes the time for the good byes. I was not prepared from the wall of emotions and tears that rolled into the room when my family entered. My sisters were bawling and the both flung themselves at me, wrapping their arms around my waist. I pat their heads, holding back my own tears. I shush them gently, and then detatch them. I crouch down and take both of their hands. "Look. I'm gonna be fine. I promise. I'm gonna go in there, and win, and when I get back we will all live happily in anice house with plenty of food. We'll be happy. You'll see." I reassure them as convingly as I can. They nod their heads sullenly. I doubt they believe me. Hell, I don't believe me. I look up at the old man. He tells the girls to wait outside, and then looks at me. He extends a hand, which I take, and then draws me in for a suprisingly strong embrase, at which I am slightly taken aback. This is a rare thing for my father. I return the embrace, not wanting to miss this last oppurtunity. He speaks quietly into my ear.
"You come back now boy. You prove them snooty bitches in the capitol wrong. You do what it takes, you kill everyone of those filthy careers by hand if need be, but you come back. You come back to me, come back to your sisters, and you bring with you a new life for all of us." We are both still for a second. He continues. "And you remember. When you're in some dark cave, or some hot desert, than you're loved, and you let it fuel you. I love you boy. Those girls love you. Soon enough, this district, and all of Panem will love you too. It's who you are." With the he steps back, and digs in his pocket. He hands me what looks like a pocket-knife, but upon closer inspection one finds the blade is missing. It's made of bronze, and beatifully engraved with images of romanticized factory work. A happy assembly line on one side, with the sun shining and the workers smiling, and on the other it shows what might be one of those same workers out on a picnic with his loved ones. He dances with a woman while a little boy seems to be playing knight with a stick. It is beatiful, and striking. The pictures are all in black outline with shading in strategic places. I look up at him and nod. And with that they are escorted out. I expect no one else, so when a middle-aged woman steps in the room I am surprised.
"My name is Bella Macies. I only came to let you know that she remembers, even if you don't. And she loves you." She looks me in the eyes, as if waiting for a sign of recognition. I do not know what she means now, but I nod my thanks for the message. She places a hand on my shoulder briefly and gives a gentle squeeze, and then walks out of the room. I sit for a while, confused and absorbed in my thought when the peacekeepers come to escort me to the car which takes us to the train. I ignore the crowd as we reach the train, and with one last look behind me at my home, I enter first.

I am followed by the ever energetic and yet somewhat subdued Jacey Starbright. Perhaps the fumes suck the energy out of would make sense, like how I hear that some plants excrete a scent that can weaken even a large man, and put a smaller person to sleep, and even kill small creatures. She is followed by the short, somewhat elderly man who is to be our mentor as the sole surviving victor of our district. His name is Beetee, and he is one of the brilliant inventor types among District 3's population. I remember hearing my father talk about how he won his games by setting a trap and electricuting 6 people. He may very well have a game plan that will help us succeed. Then she enters, and it is as if the whole train has taken a breath at the sight of her, though it is really just me. Jacey, obviously exhausted, explains to us that our trip will be short, but luxurious. We should enjoy it while we can. With that, she goes in search of a bed to sleep off District 3. Beetee waves us off, saying that we will speak more once we get to the capital, and only tells us that just looking at us he has a feeling that one of us could easily be a victor, and then he himself wanders off. Which leaves just the two of us. I look at Gyra and nod.
"Uhm. Hi. My name is Rhett... But then again, you probably heard that... So... What did you do?" I ask to which she just half grins. I gulp. I'm floundering, and she is amused by it. "This sucks right? I mean... Hunger Games being how we meet and all..." I sigh in frustration as she remains silent. "Ok, so I feel like I know you, but I don't know how..." She interrupts me with a gentle finger pressed to my lips. I blink several times, and then look at her, hopefully I look as confused as I am.
"You do know me." She answers. "You may not remember, but I definitely do. I have watched you ever since we met." She says. The train starts to move now, and the woman who came to say goodbye to me returns to me. 'You may not remember, but she does.' I remember. And as if she can hear my thoughts, Gyra begins speaking again, finishing my though. "And I have loved you ever since." She says, and then places her arms around my neck and kisses me.

AUTHORS NOTE!:
So, this is my first fanfiction of any sort, and I realize I should have put this in the first chapter, but I desperately hope that since I didn't I retained some of you till this point. I'm new and I need all the reviews I can get. Feel free to communicate ideas and criticisms galore if need be. By the way, the first chapter had some shitty formatting, and that's my fault. I promise that is not how I intended it to look, and I hope this chapter comes out a bit better. Thank you for your consideration.