The streets are bare by the time Katniss heads home. Everyone is at home already, either celebrating or mourning. Most won't make it out of their homes today unless they want to see the tribute parade in the square.

During the Games, there is a district-wide curfew put in place. The weeks before the tributes are brought into the arena citizens are expected to be at home or in the town square before sundown, that is usually around the time the pre-game coverage airs. Peacekeepers make regular rounds to ensure everyone is where they're supposed to be. But when the tributes are the in the arena the game coverage airs at all hours. The curfew is still intact then, but the Peacekeepers rounds become more random. If you're not at the square, then it's safer to stay near a projector at all times. Peacekeepers aren't lenient if you're caught not watching the Games.

It's like Gale says, there's no point if no one watches, so the Capitol makes sure everyone does.

Katniss has only heard of one case of someone getting caught out past curfew during the Games. She was seven at the time, and her parents hadn't let her walk pass the square once the news of someone getting caught had spread. But Katniss being as stubborn as she is decided to disobey her parents and snuck off to see what the big deal was. All she managed to see were a pair of legs hanging above the stage before her father caught her and managed to cover her eyes.

That was when Katniss learned not to underestimate the law enforcement in their District. They may illegal buy meat from her father, and hang out in the District's black market, but that didn't mean they had equal footing. Peacekeepers had power over everyone, and anyone with any sense would do well not to forget that.

Katniss is not at risk for breaking curfew. It's still early, only three in the afternoon, so she makes sure to walk as slow as she can and makes sure to take the long route home. The longer she can avoid Gale and Prim's questioning the better. She should be thinking of a good cover story, to explain her outburst and why she visited Rye before he was taken to the Capitol, but all she can think of are her final moments with him.

"Thanks, but you don't have to lie to me."

"I'm not. You will be among the oldest, and strongest in the arena. All you need to do is charm the audience—get sponsors."

"Katniss, I'm…I'm not coming home okay. So just forget it."

"But—"

"Five minutes are up." A peacekeeper walks in and roughly pulls her away.

"Wait!" She yells, "You can win!"

The peacekeeper continues to pull her away.

"You have to win!"

They shove her outside.

"Do it for—"

The door gets slammed in her face before she can tell Rye to win for his brother. For Peeta. Not that it might have done him any good, there's no way a man—boy— resigned to die has any fight left in him to win.

Katniss huffs, frustrated. Rye sounded so offended—defeated—when she said he could win, even though she genuinely thinks he can win. She doesn't know Rye well enough to know if he'd be a good killer, but then again who can? It's not a trait often evaluated—unless you are from a career district. Most tributes kill though; the ones that survive the bloodbath will usually have at least one kill. It's horrible to watch, but when someone is swinging a sword at your face, it's either kill or get killed. Rye will at least have a greater chance of defending himself than most other tributes—especially the younger ones.

If only he didn't give up on himself.

Katniss doesn't understand, he has the means to do well in the Games, and he has a reason to fight—his family, his brothers. That should be enough, right? Enough to motivate him to fight, to survive, to win.

She doesn't even care about Reyan Mellark, but if he dies, there will be nothing she could ever do to repay the boy with the bread. If his brother dies, that will be one debt she will never be able to repay.

And Katniss hates owing people.

"Did you give it to him?"

"Hello to you too, little duck," Katniss responds, closing the front door.

"Well? Did you?" Prim insists.

Katniss nods, " I did. And he said thank you. It was a really beautiful gift."

Prim beams. "Good. Do you think he'll win?"

A pregnant pause follows as Katniss thinks over what to say. She doesn't lie to Prim, but she does tend to keep some things from her, to protect her from the harsh realities of their world. But Katniss can't protect Prim from the Games; it's a cruel reality shared by all. So while her instinct is to lie to reassure Prim, she knows that it's not fair to get Prim's hopes up. But it's also not right to completely squash her hopes either, especially when she's just as hopeful as her little sister that Ryean Mellark may be their next victor.

Katniss carefully thinks over what to tell her sister.

Do I think he'll win?

No. The odds aren't in his favor. Twenty-four tributes and only one victor.

Yes. The odds are in his favor. He'll be amongst the oldest and better-fed tributes.

No. He doesn't believe in himself.

Yes. He has to win; he has friends—family.

No. He's already given up.

Yes. He has to win—for Peeta.

He HAS to win.

Katniss places her hands on Prim's slender shoulders. "I hope so." Prim hugs her, tight, pressing her head into her middle.

"I hope so too." She mumbles.

Katniss pats her head, affectionately. She lets Prim hug her for as long as she needs. Panem may think she's old enough to compete in a battle to the death—although, no one is ever old enough to do that—but Prim will always be her little duck. Her sensitive, caring, little duck, who just went through the only thing Katniss can't protect her from. So if she needs a few extra seconds of cuddling, Katniss is alright with that. This is something she can do.

She really hopes Rye wins. Not just for his family, or for Peeta, but for Prim too. To give Prim some hope, to spare her some hurt that the Games bring to everyone. She'll owe him indefinitely for such a rare gift. Katniss hates owing people, but if Rye comes back a victor, she doubts there will be anything she can offer him—except, perhaps, to keep her promise of looking after Peeta while Rye is away on the victory tour, or back in the Capitol as a mentor.

"Katniss." Her mother's distant voice breaks the tender moment between the sisters. "Could you help me with this?" Her mother isn't very far, she's standing in their small kitchen which is right next to their small living room, but since her father's death, and since her mother came back from whatever dark world she retreated to, she's had a distant quality to her voice. It's quite and airy and suggests she's not quite back from whatever dark hole she threw herself in after her husband's death.

"Why don't you go tend to lady? She must be hungry." Katniss tells her sister, pulling away from their hug.

"I already fed her." Prim states.

"Then why don't you try milking her? We could use some more goat cheese."

"Sorry about that. I'll make sure I cover it better next time so that Buttercup won't get it."

"It's okay. I guess even that mangy cat deserves something nice once in a while." Katniss does not believe that at all, the thing is lucky to still be alive.

Prim smiles and makes her way out back, where her beloved pet goat, Lady, resides, tied up in their back pen. Katniss goes into the kitchen to help her mother prepare dinner. It will be a special occasion, as it is every year that the Everdeens and the Hawthornes are safe from the Games, but this year is extra special because Gale will be the first of them to be free of the Games completely. She can't imagine what that must feel like, to be free of the games. She guesses that it must not be that giant a relief, not with three younger siblings all of whom have many years of reapings in front of them. She can't believe there's much relief to be found.

Katniss gets to work skinning a rabbit that was caught in one of Gale's traps this morning, while her mother busies herself making a salad. They work in silence, an unsaid burden hanging between them. She's not helping her mother because she wants to or because she requested. She's helping because feeding this family is what she does because she can't allow her mother to do anything if she wants something done right.

"It's great that Gale survived his last reaping. Hazel must be so happy." Her mother mummers.

Katniss says nothing. Her mother does this sometimes; say things, like she's trying to start a conversation. Most times they lead nowhere, and not only because Katniss is unwilling to participate, but because her mother has a tendency to drift in and out. In from one mood, one thought, and then on to the next. It's exhausting trying to keep up with her, which is why Katniss doesn't bother to try.

"I can't wait until your last reaping." Her mother starts again, her voice low and distant. "It will be such a relief. You'll be free, free to do what you want. Wouldn't that be great?"

Katniss turns towards her mother, confused. Free to do what? Work in the mines? Starve? What freedom—what relief can be found in District 12? If it's not the Games, it's something else, hunger, infection, poverty, despair. Katniss clenches her fist tight, pressing her bloody fingers into her palm. Her mother lives in her own world most days; it's not surprising that she sees things in an entirely unreal way. It just angers her so much that her mother doesn't see the reality of their world, of their situation, and it's things like this that make her unreliable as a mother, as a provider, a caregiver.

She turns back around, going back to her bloody task. Her mother is used to her cold shoulder and says nothing, going back to wherever it is she goes when she can't stand to be around her daughters. They continue their tasks in silence, but Katniss, unable to hold in her anger, blurts out "Prim will still be in danger. Don't forget."

Her mother stares at her, the lines of her face making her look more withered, more tied. Her mother was pretty once, but that was a long time ago, before she fell in love, before the Seam. "I won't," she whispers, her eyes glossing over. She turns back, finishing the salad before starting on the stew. Prim walks in sometime later. Too repulsed by the idea of having to skin an animal, she takes a seat on their small couch and reads a book. It's quite in the Everdeen home, except for the content sounds coming from Buttercup as Prim scratches his back.

Her mother doesn't say a thing for the rest of the afternoon.

The Hawthornes show up before dinner is ready. They show up early on purpose so that they don't run the risk of getting spotted by a peacekeeper. It's still an hour before curfew, but that doesn't stop peacekeepers from harassing anyone they "suspect" of breaking or intending to break the law.

The peacekeepers in District 12 are typically really forgiving toward criminal behavior, but they're stricter during the Games. Gales says it's because there are more eyes paying attention during the Games, making sure there are no signs of discontent—of rebellion. Katniss thinks he's paranoid. It's District 12, an outlier district, no one ever pays attention to them.

Hazel Hawthorne, Gale's mother and the matriarch of the Hawthorne clan, greets Katniss's mother before heading over to her and Prim. Hazel greets the Everdeen sisters with a hug and a kiss on the cheek. Katniss is not a fan of physical affection, and aside from Prim, doesn't let anyone touch her, but Hazel is a special case. She's practically family, and more importantly, Katniss has a great deal of respect for her.

Hazel was pregnant with her fourth child when her husband died in the mines. As soon as she gave birth to her youngest, and only girl, Posy, she went right to work. She became a laundress, taking on other people's piles of dirty clothes. It's backbreaking work, Hazel's hands are callused, dry, and often bleed and the pay is pitiful, but it's enough to keep her family afloat, and that's what counts. Hazel is everything a good mother should be, everything her own mother is not.

"Hello, Mrs. Hawthrone." Prim beams.

"Please, call me Hazel."

Prim giggles, "Ok…Hazel."

Katniss rolls her eyes. They do this every time they see each other. Hazel prefers being called Hazel by everyone, but Prim is so polite she insists on calling her by her last name, that is until Hazel insist she not be so formal. Prim complies but it only lasts an evening at most, and then the whole cycle repeats itself. Hazel must have an infinite amount of patience to put up with it every time. Then again, it is Prim. As annoying as Katniss finds the whole thing to be, she'd probably put up with it too for Prim.

"You survived your first reaping." Hazel says excitedly, "How are you feeling?"

"To be honest…I feel relieved." Prim says, a hint of remorse in her voice.

"We're all relieved, it's normal," Hazel says warmly.

"You must be especially relieved, with Gale having aged out."

Hazel nods, "Oh I am! Which is why I made something special."

"What?—"

A loud thud interrupts Katniss question. Everyone turns toward the kitchen table, where Gale and his brothers have placed the various food they've brought for tonight's feast.

"Fish. It's fish; you know the ones we caught this morning, Catnip." Gale's steely gray eyes lock on Katniss. He has questions, that much is obvious, he's irritated too. She suspects he's upset that she ignored him after the reaping. Gale can be so childish sometimes it frustrates her.

While an irritated Gale isn't ideal, an angry Gale is much worse. Katniss will just have to figure out a convincing enough lie to tell him for why she did what she did at the reaping.

"Yes, Gale. I doubt Katniss has forgotten such a good catch." Hazel says sternly, having taken notice of her oldest's bitter tone. She walks over to Gale and shoos him away. She unwraps the fish, which is still raw. The smell of raw fish is strong, especially in this heat, but Katniss can detect hints of herbs and…spices?

"Spices?" Katniss's mother asks, reading her mind.

"Yea, I had a little saved up for a special occasion. Used it to prepare the fish."

Wow, spices. It is unheard of for anyone in the Seam to be in possession of spices, other than salt. Even some merchants are unable to get their hands on the stuff. Katniss is surprised Hazel managed to acquire some and is even more curious about how she did it.

"Well, having a child age out of the Games is definitely worth celebrating. I can't wait until Katniss ages out." Says her mother, echoing the conversation she had with herself this afternoon.

"Well, I was originally going to wait until Gale's toasting, but who knows when that'll be." Everyone laughs, except for Gale and Katniss. Gale presumably for not enjoying being made fun of, and Katniss because she doesn't find marriage to be something that should be celebrated. Not when it leads to co-dependency and children. Not when she lives in District 12, in a place where your loved ones can starve to death, and your children can be taken away from you.

"Mom." Gale moans.

"Oh, I was only kidding. Why don't you kids go play while we finish cooking up the rest of this feast."

Gale's brothers are quick to run away from being roped into helping in the kitchen. They take off running, chasing after Buttercup. Gale has a running bet going with the two; the first to capture Buttercup will be the first person he takes out to the woods. Both his brothers want to learn to hunt like Gale, but teaching takes time away from hunting, so when Gale's brothers started begging him to take them to the woods, he thought up the bet to make sure that would never happen. Buttercup may be an ugly mangy thing, but he is a master at hiding and running away. There's no way either one will ever catch him, not anytime soon at least.

"Wanna go pet Lady, Posy?" Prim takes little Posy from Hazel arms so that she and her mother can fish cooking the fish and the rabbit. She walks away holding a babbling Posy in her arms. That leaves only Gale and her, standing awkwardly by the kitchen.

"I'm going to turn on the projector. Peacekeepers will be starting their rounds soon." It's a flimsy excuse to get out of talking to Gale, and it only delays the inevitable for a short while.

Katniss turns on the projector, and the Capitol seal and anthem light up their shabby living room. The seal is then replaced by the artificial faces of Caesar Flickerman and Claudius Templesmith, hosts of the Hunger Games, discussing the televised reapings.

Oh no, Katniss thinks, falling onto the couch. This is what she was afraid of; they're going to air her brief moment of insanity. Katniss groans. They're already on District 10. She feels a dip on the other side of the couch as Gale takes a seat. "What wrong?" he asks, his voice sounding tense.

"We missed the career districts; I wanted to know what we were up against this year." Katniss lies, surprised with how easy the lie came to her. She does want to see what Rye will be against this year—the career tributes are always the ones to beat—but she's more upset about what the Capitol will air when they get to District 12, and with everyone she knows here in one room she's sure there will be questions.

"We?"

"What?"

"You just said we, what we were up against. Katniss," Gale sighs, "What's going on? What happened out in the square—"

"Oh, my Capitol." Katniss whispers, interrupting Gale. "She's so young."

"What?" Gale turns back to the screen and sees a little girl making her way up to the reaping stage in District 11. She's so small and thin; her formal clothes hang like rags on her. She looks so young and innocent on that stage; this has to be her first reaping. Katniss feels a great swell of pity for the girl. She reminds her so much of Prim.

"And now, onto the boys!" District 11's cheery escort exclaims. She totters to the other end of the stage where she reaches in and pulls out a name. "Thresh Oakland!" A giant, bulky boy makes his way to the stage.

Gale lets out a whistle, "Poor girl. There's no way her family will ever see her again."

"Gale!"

"What? It's true! Look at the boy, if the career tributes are anything like him then no way she stands a chance."

Before Katniss can protest how callous Gale is being the animated voice of Caesar interrupts her.

"Would you look at the size of that boy? He's sure to be a contender this year!" Caesar laughs.

"I can already feel the bets coming in!" Claudius adds.

"And now onto our last District. With a mentor like Haymitch Abernathy, District 12 always provides a source of comedic entertainment before the start of the Games." The screen cuts to the reaping in District 12's town square where a very drunk Haymitch pummels over the edge of the stage. "Don't worry folks, we've been assured he's okay."

"Except for a wicked case of hangover. You know Caesar, with hits like that, it's no wonder Haymitch won his games." The hosts laugh, just as she's sure everyone in the Capitol is laughing.

"But you know, as entertaining as Haymitch is, he wasn't the only one humiliated today."

"What do you mean, Caesar?"

"District 12's lovely escort, Effie, had a heckler in the crowd."

"No! In a reaping? How can that be?"

"I don't know, but let's watch."

The scene cuts back to District 12, as Effie calls out the girl tribute. The girl hasn't even made it to the stage yet before Effie is already reaching into the bowl with the boy names. Katniss cringes, knowing what they are going to show. She looks at Gale, whose attention is solely on the screen, his jaw is locked tight, and his brows are furrowed. If he has questions about what happened earlier today then now would be the perfect time to ask. It's not like she can pretend it wasn't her that yelled out during the reaping.

"Ryean Mellark!" A tall, blonde boy makes his way to the stage.

"It's weird, isn't it?" Gale announces.

"What do you mean?"

"I mean…we just saw him this morning. Hard to believe we were looking at a dead man walking."

"Gale!" Prim gasps. Katniss and Gale turn around to see Prim standing behind them with Posy still in her arms. "That's an awful thing to say."

"Prim, I didn't mean it like that."

"Are there any volunteers?"

Oh no.

Silence. Followed by a strong, resounding "NO!"

It shouldn't be a big deal that someone yelled out no, it could have been anyone that did it. Parents and loved ones often yell out when a person they love is called, but Rye isn't someone she loves, and still, they zoom in on her.

"Oh my…well that was rude, but if you feel that strongly about it…how about we give a round of applause for our latest tributes!" Effie laughs awkwardly.

"You know that's not what I think that was?" Caesar says, cutting back to the live Capitol footage.

"What do you mean?"

"I mean, I don't think that was a defiant outcry. It was obviously a love-torn cry. That poor girl was mourning for her fair-haired lover."

"Oh! You know I think you're right!"

"I know! I can't wait to interview him!"

Katniss mentally thanks and curses Caesar. In one breath he has saved her from suspicions of rebellion and condemned her as a love-sick girl. Something she is far from.

"Katniss is that true?" Prim yells.

"Oooh! Katniss like a boy!" Gale's younger brother, Rory, taunts.

"Ew! That's gross." Gale's other brother, Vick, adds.

"No!" Katniss yells getting up from the couch. "We are not together, and I don't like him! I barely even know him!" Everyone stops what they're doing, even their mothers working in the kitchen.

"Then can you explain what the hell that was out today?"

"Gale!" His mother chides, "There is no need to talk to her like that."

"I'm sorry mama, but you're wrong. Katniss, do you have any idea how dangerous what you did was? You painted a target on your back! You're lucky they don't see it as some rebellious act, but you actually think that not even one person will see it that way? And for what? Why do you even care?"

Katniss bites her lip, taking in all Gale is saying. It's so true it's irritating. He's absolutely right. She did paint a target on her back; the peacekeepers will start to keep a special eye on her, make sure she doesn't make any more noise. "Well, we don't have to worry about it anymore. The whole capitol—the country—thinks I'm just some love-sick girl." Katniss takes a deep breath, trying not to raise her voice, trying not to scare Prim. "So let's forget about it. Peacekeepers will be here soon, and they don't need to see us discussing it."

"Wait—"

"Gale hush down, Katniss is right. The whole street will be able to hear you if you keep this up. We'll be done with dinner soon, come help us set the table." Gale grumbles before compiling with his mother's demand. Katniss sits back down, placing her head in between her hands. She can feel everybody's stare on her. This is so humiliating. She was so stupid. Gale is mad at her, the country is judging her, the peacekeepers must be wary of her now, she condemned Peeta's brother to the Games and just—ugh—she's made a real mess of things.

She feels a slight dip next to her. She looks up to see Prim staring at her with large, understanding eyes.

"I know why you did it." She whispers, grabbing hold of her hand and rubbing soothing circles over her palms.

Katniss raises a brow. How? How could her sister know why she did what she did when even she isn't sure. Doesn't understand what came over her. Unless...did she see him? Peeta?

"Why?"

"Because." Her sister says simply, "It was the right thing to do."

Katniss is stunned by the answer and a little confused. She wants to ask more but doesn't get the chance when there's a knock at the door. The home becomes silent. There is only one reason someone would be knocking at this time of day. Peacekeepers.

Hazel opens the door. On her porch stands two peacekeepers. One with a helmet on, holding a gun and another standing in front of him holding the same gun but with no helmet on.

"Peacekeeper Darius." Hazle greets respectfully.

Katniss lets out a breath of relief. Darius is the youngest and probably least aggressive peacekeeper in the District. He also routinely visits the Hob and is one of her best customers.

"Citizen" Darius answers back. He knows who she is, but as a peacekeeper, he must remain impartial. "May we come in?" Hazel barely nods before they waltz in. It's a demand framed as a question. Like that fools anybody.

They take count of the heads and names of everyone inside. They also make sure the projector is running. Their mother continues their cooking as the peacekeepers resume their surveillance. These check-ins aren't usually so tense, but with Katniss mistake out in the open, everyone holds their breath in anticipation.

Darius checks off some things on his clipboard. "Alright. Clear. Enjoy your view."

Gale snorts, but luckily the peacekeepers don't hear. That doesn't stop the furious glare she throws Gale's way. When he notices he throws an equally angry glare back. The peacekeepers leave, and just as Hazel is closing the door, Darius turns back and says.

"Oh, and Katniss? I know you're excited about the Games, but remember you have neighbors, so no more outburst, okay?" And then he leaves.

If another peacekeeper had said it, she would have been shaking right now, but since it's Darius, she knows to take his words for what they are—a friendly warning. Maybe the other peacekeepers didn't recognize her, but Darius obviously would, and he's warning her to be careful—to stay quite.

Not long after the peacekeepers leave, they are all seated at their long table. Even though the Hawthornes have more people, their table is smaller, which is why they generally come over and eat at the Everdeens. Her father had commissioned the table from a well-known Seam carpenter. Her father provided the wood and paid in fresh game. It was an anniversary gift for her mother, and a good investment too. Too often their table is used to treat the sick and severely injured.

Despite the earlier tension and Gale obviously still being mad at her, the meal is lively. Hazel has a gift for stringing together conversations about nothing, being careful to avoid any touchy subjects like the Games, Gale's future in the mines, and Katniss outburst during the reaping. The boys hold a side conversation of their own. Katniss overhears some, and apparently, they're going to team up to try to catch Buttercup. Smart plan.

As everyone else is engaged in conversation, Prim helps feed Posy, a large grin on her face. Prim is naturally caring and sweet, but the warmth and eagerness with which she cares for Posy scares her sometimes. Katniss isn't certain, but she presumes Prim would very much like to grow up and have a child of her own. She'd be a good mother too, and that's what scares Katniss so much.

The happy mood around the table lessens when the tribute parade is announced. They all turn to face the project just in time to see the first chariot make its entrance—District 1, luxury items. The tributes from one are dressed in gaudy feather dresses adorned with jewels. More and more chariots make their way down.

The tribute parade is the first official presentation of the tributes. The first time besides the reaping that they get to make an impression. The tributes are made-up to look more polished and then dressed in ridiculous costumes that represent their districts. It's incredibly stupid and just another way the Capitol manipulates and tortures the poor tributes. Of course, it's also a double-edged sword because regardless of how stupid the whole thing is, rich capitolites attend the tribute parade and if you can impress them your chances of surviving the Games are that much higher. Unfortunately for District 12, they never make an impression. Every year it's the same stupid consume. Since their district's main export is coal, their tributes are always dressed up as coal miner uniforms, or worse yet they're undressed and decorated with coal dust.

As the last chariot approaches, District 12's chariot, that is what Katniss expects to see. Coal miners, but instead, what she sees is

"Fire." Her mother whispers.

"Shit, they're on fire," Gale exclaims.

"That can't be safe, can it?" Prim voices with worry.

"They don't seem to be in pain." Hazel reassure Prim, "But it is impressive."

Impressive? It's beautiful. The fire that flickers off the back of their capes looks like wings, making District 12's tributes more radiant and beautiful than ever before. Even the sickly skinny female tribute, although she pales in comparison to the radiance that Rye exudes. Whereas the female tribute stands small and scared, Rye stands tall, confident and with a giant smile on his face.

"That self-centered prick must fit in so easily in the Capitol."

"Gale!" Hazel reprimands, "Have some respect."

"Why should I? It's not like he was a great guy to begin with—so egotistical, but what can you expect from a merchant."

"Not all merchants are like that." Prim whispers. Gale doesn't argue. He knows better that do that that is unless he wants Katniss not to speak to him for a week.

"Maybe it's his plan." Katniss interjects, "To win sponsors. I mean you can't argue that he's making an impression." No one says anything, but Gale stares at her, his gaze unreadable, which is unusual. Katniss and Gale know each other so well, and since hunting requires they make as little noise as possible, they've become skilled at reading each other and communicating nonverbally. Now, though, she can't make of what he's thinking.

They continue their feast and continue to watch. Even though Katniss is more invested in this year's Games, it's no different for any else at the table. So Katniss pushes back the urgency she feels to continue watching and forces a smile. After all, today is suppose to be celebratory; Gale is free. Of course, come Monday Gale will be forced into a whole new prison. The mines.

"Thank you for having us over. Dinner was lovely." Hazel compliments her mother. The feast was amazing, as it is every year. It's another unfortunate aspect of the Games that they're held during the most bountiful time of year.

The tribute parade and pre-game coverage ended an hour ago, which makes it safe for the Hawthorns to walk back home without fear of running into a Peacekeeper. Once goodbyes are said, Katniss goes to close the door when Gales calls for her.

"Catnip, Can I talk to you for a second?"

Katniss nods, hesitantly, and steps outside. She stands in the dark of her front porch, Gale's family already walking away and her own family getting ready for bed. She crosses her arms in silence. Since Gale asked for her she's going to let him speak first, it's not like she has anything she wants to share.

Gales huffs, clearly irritated. "Katniss," he starts, saying her name harsher than normal, "Talk to me."

Katniss nearly shrugs, "I don't have anything to say."

Gale's brow furrows, his irritation quickly becoming anger. "Katniss, it's like night and day with you today. I mean, I don't get it. One minute you're too scared to run off into the woods and then the next you're staging some type of—I don't know—protest in the square. What the hell happened?"

"Gale!" Katniss hisses, "Are you aware of what you said? Someone could hear you!"

"See! Like that!" Gale exclaims, quieter this time. "You already painted a target on your back, and now you're all worried."

"I'm aware Gale. That's why we can't talk about this…just…forget it."

"I can't forget it." Gale whispers, "What happened in the Town Square. I know it can't be about Rye, I mean you just met him today."

"Children were reaped, Gale, to fight to the death. It's upsetting; I mean…what more do you want."

"It's never bothered you before."

Katniss is taken aback by his last comment. It's true that she, like most people in District 12, have become accustomed to soldier on regardless of the cruelty of the Games, but Gales knows better than anyone that she can't afford to let the Hunger Games get to her, to slow her down, and makes her as miserable and sad as her mother.

She has a family to protect, to feed. She also doesn't enjoy participating in Gale's angry rants about the Games and the Capitol. She just doesn't see the point. Things will never change. Her attitude may appear like she's simply ignoring everything that's happening around her, but it's not that she doesn't care. The Games bother her just as much as it bothers Gale, as much as it bothers everyone in the districts.

But what can she do, she's only one person.

"Goodnight, Gale," Katniss says harshly. She goes inside before Gale can respond or reach out to her. As she closes the door, she can hear Gale kick at something hard and muttering to himself as he walks away. Her mother and Prim are already in the bedroom, leaving her alone in the room. She takes a seat against the closed door, hugging her knees.

Gale is stubborn like herself; he's going to keep poking and prodding until he gets a solid answer from her. She isn't the best of liars and with the Games only beginning it's not like she will be able to hide her fears about Rye.

Gale is her best friend and her hunting partner, harmony is essentially between them, but with her secret now creating a riff between them, she's not sure how they'll be able to keep that balance. The clear solution, however, is not an option. She can't tell Gale about Peeta and about the bread that saved her family's life. It's not only because Gale hates the merchant class and will interpret Peeta's kind act as pity but because that moment in the rain when she was at her weakest, is such a personal memory. She shares so much with Gale, more than anyone, but this memory, this gift of hope that Peeta gave her—a gift she knows she will never be able to repay—belongs just to her.

So even though it hurts to fight with Gale, she will keep her mouth shut and hope—something she doesn't normally do—that Rye Mellark makes it through the Games unscathed.

Author's Note

I Know! I Know! I took way too long! Sorry, I wanted to flesh out the story a little more before I posted the next chapter. But I finally posted! Yay! I'm hoping to update more regularly, but even when I haven't updated for months I guarantee that I do intend on finishing this story! Also, this chapter was way longer but it got too long so I had to split it in half, so the other half should be posted soon :)

Also, I want to thank all you lovely people that read, liked, favorited, followed, and reviewed the story! I am honestly shocked so many people liked it. Also, I want to get in better touch you lovely people so I was considering doing reviewer acknowledgments at the end of every chapter (like so I can answer everyone's questions or thank everyone personally), so let me know if you guys would like that. Also, the links on my bio don't work, but you can get in touch with me through my Tumblr of the same name: .com

Spoiler Alert: Peeta will definitely make an appearance next chapter and trust me it will not be pretty.

Alright then! See ya next time!