I was curious if anyone wanted to know how I picture the cast. If you're not, I totally understand. I hate knowing I'm picturing things differently than the author and I tend to opt for not knowing too. Just let me know and I'll act accordingly.

Thank you to Andrea71, Finger bang bang, and HarryPotterFreakie for reviewing. It totally made my day to see that and the favorites and follows. So awesome! :) You guys are all amazing.

So here's the next chapter, hope you guys like it.

The next morning I wake up to Mags gently shaking me awake. "Best to get up now that way you aren't late for your first day of training," she says gently. "You've got about an hour and there's breakfast in the kitchen."

I nod mutely before rolling over and crawling out of bed and into the shower. I try using cold water to wake myself up. It had been a long night. There had been more nightmares along the same lines as the past few nights. This time though I'd been in my mermaid costume and completely unable to run away when the District 1 and 2 kids came hunting for me. Zayn and Cato had watched while the others tore into me with knives.

With a shiver, I climb out of the stall and get dressed in the clothes left out on my bed for me. They're pretty plain. Black with some red and gray detailing and a number four emblazoned on my shoulder in white. The pants and shirt are a little tighter than I'd like, but the shoes are extremely comfortable, which I find myself thankful for after my high heels last night.

When I walk into the kitchen, I see a similar lay-out to the one on the train yesterday morning. There's a vast amount of food, Mags sipping coffee, Ophelia prattling on about gossip in the Capitol, and Finnick and Zayn stuffing their faces. The only difference is the two stylists added on to one side of the table.

I take my seat beside Zayn and begin loading my plate up.

"Oh, Nicci, I was just telling everyone, you and Zayn are the talk of the town! Everyone absolutely loved your costumes!" Ophelia squeals. She turns to our stylists, beaming at them. "Dressing them up as a mermaid and a pirate was a stroke of absolute genius, ladies!"

"Actually," Finnick chimes in, "that was my idea."

Ophelia looks both appalled and amazed. Although whether it's from Finnick's "stroke of absolute genius" or the fact that his mouth was overflowing with food when he spoke, I can't be sure. "Well, either way, it was brilliant. If only District 12 hadn't been so showy."

Galatea and the other stylist glower, clearly not pleased at being outdone, and I work on shoveling as many eggs into my mouth as I can that way I don't have to talk.

Silence reigns for a couple minutes before Mags gives a little cough. We all look up at her and she gives Finnick a look. "Tell them their plans for the day."

Finnick places his fork on the table and daintily wipes his mouth. "Today," he says with an overly dramatic tone to his voice, "you begin your training. Zayn, your goal is to focus on weapons. You have your foot in the door with the Careers, but you're really going to have to sell it in order to get all the way in. Practice throwing spears, they're close to tridents, and work on lifting heavy things." He turns to me. "Cupcake, I want you to focus on survival skills. You're too nice to be a Career so you're going to have to survive on your own."

I glower at him. "What happened to 'winning over the monster'?" I ask, deepening my voice to imitate him.

"First, I do not sound like an imbecile. Second, I thought my plan was the worst ever thought of."

I nod, recalling our argument from last night when he'd told me his plan for me in the Arena was to be Cato's little plaything. "It is. It won't work, but I didn't see you admitting that any time soon."

I look over at Ophelia who's stammering as pieces click together in her head. "Winning over the monster? Finnick, you weren't thinking of having Nicaea use her body to get through the Games were you?" Surprisingly, she sounds horrified. I figured most people in the Capitol would approve of tributes being all over each other in the Arena.

"It was my original plan," he says simply. He inspects a sugar cube before popping it into his mouth. "Plan's changed though. Since she's too pious to do that, she has to go about it the old fashioned way- roughing it alone." His blue-green eyes lock with mine. "Although I'm sure Cato wouldn't mind if she changed her mind."

Ophelia sighs dreamily. "He is gorgeous. If I were in the Arena, that's what I'd be doing. All day long." I watch disgusted as her eyes glaze over and she begins mumbling mostly incoherent things about what she'd "like to do to that body". Galatea snorts and I resist the urge to roll my eyes when she says something about chocolate.

Mags ends up saving us from any more details about how Ophelia would spend her time in the Arena by telling us it's time to go.

As Zayn and I are entering the elevator to go downstairs, Finnick hollers a reminder at us. "Weapons for Zayne; survival for Nicaea."

I roll my eyes and watch as Zayne hits the button for the training floor.

"Ready for this?" he asks, his gray eyes boring into mine.

I shake my head. "You?"

He shakes his as well. Good to know I'm not the only one.

"Did Finnick discuss strategy with you yet?"

He shakes his head again. "I don't think he has it all figured out, like he wants us to think he does. He might have been close, but then you threw a kink in it all by refusing to sleep with Cato."

I shudder at the thought.

"Cold?" Zayn asks.

"No, just petrified."

When the doors ding open, we walk into the training room together and stand on circles engraved in the floor with our district and gender written on it. These circles make up a huge ring on the floor, just like in the Arena. I nibble on my bottom lip. The Arena is everywhere. There's no escaping it.

After all the tributes arrive, a woman named Atala steps forward to tell us the rules we're to follow during training. When we're dismissed, I walk over to the fire-making station. I'll be a good girl today and follow Finnick's orders. At least, until I come up with a better plan.

I spend the morning mastering the art of fire-making. It's difficult, but eventually I manage to light a fire both with a flint and by using two rocks. Hopefully I'll have a flint in the Arena because I won't want to spend an hour trying to light one with rocks there. In all honesty, I doubt I could make a fire like that again.

At lunch I sit beside Zayn because he makes me. I don't say much though. I don't have anything to say to the Careers. I'm not going to be one of them and honestly, I'd rather be sitting at another table with the other loner tributes that clearly aren't in alliances either.

"Not much of a talker, is she, Zayn?" I hear Marvel, the male tribute from 1, say.

I look up at him and glare.

He laughs and smiles maliciously at me. "I wouldn't piss me off, fish girl. I could toss a spear at you five seconds in."

I hear a growl and look around. I can't tell if it's from Zayn, Cato (which surprises me), or both, which surprises me even more. Zayn's protective because he's my partner. Cato has no reason to be though, unless he wants me to be his kill. Ugh, he probably does.

He and I lock eyes. His are dark and icy and I want to look away, but I can't. I can't help but notice that they're the exact same shade as Keenan's when he's upset. Would Keenan look like this when he grows up? My throat tightens at the thought, the odds of me finding out what my baby brother will be like aren't in my favor and the next sentence confirms it.

"I told you, Marvel, she's mine," Cato says. His voice is a deep rumble, very masculine. If he'd been saying anything other than my death sentence, it'd probably be pleasant to listen to.

But no, I was right. Cato wants to kill me himself. Why? I'll never know, but that's how he sees this ending, with me as another tally below his name.

It seems like that's all they talk about. Killing. They have it all figured out. Each of them has at least two picked out that they want to slaughter. Clove, the girl from 2, has even figured out how she wants to kill her two, right down to the last slit across the throat and I've heard her talk about it twice now. These people are killers and they're chomping at the bit to prove themselves.

I turn to Zayn. I need away from them. "I'm going to go train some more," I whisper. I only stick around long enough for him to look at me with concern in his eyes before getting up and heading back into the room.

There's no one at the pool, which I really want to jump in, but know better than to do that; no one at any of the survival stations; and none of the Careers are possessively lurking at the weapons station like they have been all day. It's empty in here. There's no one talking about killing or the Games or who will have the most sponsors. It's nice.

I meander around aimlessly. There are a lot of weapons hanging on the racks, I think as I walk closer. Knives, swords, spears, a bow and arrows, a scythe, a mace, some shiny metal stars, and, I note with a smile, a trident. Zayn and I might just stand a chance.

My fingers itch to close around the metal shaft of the weapon, to feel the familiar weight in my hand. I resist the urge though and cast one last, longing look at it. I'll leave lunch even earlier tomorrow and come practice. Just in case I can get my hands on one later.

As soon as I reach the camouflage station, I know I made the right decision. The Careers are piling in, laughing and shoving each other. You'd think this was some sort of reunion the way they carry on.

I turn my back to them and begin trying to paint my arm to match the log sitting in front of me.

"Take Nicaea with you," Finnick calls to him right before he gets to the elevator.

I see Zayn's shoulders drop and I instantly feel bad. He doesn't need me tagging along like some sort of annoying little sister. I'll only hold him back and make him look weak. He can't have that. He needs to put his best foot forward and, in order to do that, it probably wouldn't hurt to put some extra distance between the two of us.

"I'm staying here, Finnick, and reading," I say, holding up my book.

My mentor just shakes his head. "No, you're going to go with Zayn and read."

"No," I say, "I'm staying here, on this couch, and I'm going to read the rest of this book. Besides, Zayn doesn't need or want me tagging along."

"Go," he says, "and I'll take you swimming later."

My eyes flit to Finnick's face. It would be really nice to go swim and just let everything go, but I shake my head. Zayn sacrificed his lunch so I will sacrifice my swimming. "I'll get Mags or someone to show me where I can later." My eyes return to my reading, back to a couple of star-crossed lovers in Venice. "Have fun, Zayn."

The elevator doors ding closed and just like that I'm alone with my mentor again.

"Why won't you listen to me?" he asks, leaning towards me from his seat.

"Why won't you tell me what the plan is?" I shoot back. I'm so frustrated with him. After spending my day trying to master small, menial tasks under his orders, I've pent up a lot of anger against the redhead. It's my future and I have no idea how it's going to come together.

He hastily runs his fingers through his hair. "It's simple. I want you to be the new Johanna. You play yourself off as weak and you bide your time. Then, when the time's right, you kill everyone else."

I wrinkle my nose up at that. I don't want to kill people.

He sighs when I look up at him. "I know you don't want to, but you have to and it's the only plausible solution we've come up with." I look guiltily at the floor; he's trying more than I'd credited him with. "I still want you to keep Cato looking though, as a safety precaution. If he likes you, he won't want you dead immediately. Hell, he might even protect you."

I furrow my brows. "Why would he protect me? He said earlier today I was his kill."

Finnick's face lights up. He looks happy enough to kiss me.

I set my book down and scoot a little away from him. I'm instantly wary. There's something inherently wrong with how happy my death sentence has made him. "What?"

He leans his head back and closes his eyes. "My job just got a lot easier, cupcake."

My nose wrinkles up again and I glare at him. I know he won't explain how his job is easier so I opt for another answer. "Why do you call me that?"

"What?"

"Cupcake. You never call me by my name. I'm always cupcake."

"It's cuz you're small and cute. Like a little cake."

I blush. One of the most gorgeous men in all of Panem just called me cute. No one back home ever really bothered giving me a compliment like that. Castalia was the pretty, older one. The one people were supposed to pay attention to. Once she was married, then the attention would turn to me.

"Come on," he says suddenly as he jumps out of his chair. "We're going to go for a swim. Your swimsuit is in your closet. I'll meet you back here in ten."

He walks down the hall to his room and I watch his head of red hair disappear through the doorway. With a small shake, I get up and follow him. As odd and bipolar as he is, I really want to swim.

My swimsuit is a little, yellow thing. The top ties in the back and the bottoms have to be tied on the sides. Clearly this was male-designed, just like my parade costume. It doesn't cover much and it fits a little snug and I cross my fingers that it won't slip and leave me exposed while we swim. I'd die of embarrassment if it did.

I quickly resecure my bun on top of my head and hurry into the living room to see Finnick waiting for me. He's only got his swimming suit on, a pair of dark blue trunks, and he looks good. Women all across the Capitol would kill for a view like this.

When we emerge from the elevator a few moments later, I feel my whole body freeze. Zayn and the other Careers weren't training downstairs like I'd thought. Or even in the District 1 or 2 suites. No, they were practicing up on the roof and now they're all staring at Finnick and I in our swimming suits.

My whole body shuts down as I stare horrified at them. My eyes lock on Cato who's smirking as his eyes hungrily wander up and down my once again scantily clad body and this time my hair isn't down to partially hide me. I watch as he mouths a word at me. A word that makes my blood run cold.

Mine.

Through my terror, I feel Finnick grab my hand and cheerily call to them. "Don't mind us; we're just going for a little swim. Poor thing's hopeless in the water. Feel free to join if you want."

He leads me away and I hear snickers and the clanging sound of metal behind me as well as Glimmer, the girl from 1, commenting on how useless I must be if I'm from 4 and can't even swim properly.

The pool on the roof isn't as big as the one in the training facility, but it will work. Finnick grabs a few towels from a rack and places them near the edge of the pool before gesturing for me to hop in.

I dive smoothly into the water and allow it to engulf and caress me. There's something magical about swimming. I've always loved it. When I discovered that I was going to be an aide at the training facility back home, I was so ecstatic I couldn't sleep for two days.

Finnick has me swim a couple laps while he lazily floats around on his back. When I emerge next to him he grins. "If the kids you teach are half as good as you are we'll never have a drowned sailor again."

Glimmer's words come back to me. If only she knew the truth, I think wickedly.

A little later, Finnick and I are in a moderate competition to see who's better at diving. He's just completed a pretty good one off of a nearby table and it's my turn to one-up him. There isn't much to work with to be honest. This pool wasn't built for people to be diving around or into. It probably wasn't even a pool to begin with. It's in the middle of a copse of trees, which leads me to believe it was a decorative fish pond originally.

Something in my mind clicks and I grin wickedly. There's a tree with a branch that hangs out over the pool. If I can shimmy up it, I can dive down into the water with enough time to pull off a good back flip. There won't be any questions about who's better then.

The tree's a little tough to get into and I end up with a few, little scratches from branches or bark where I slipped or it rubbed against my skin, but I make it up the tree and out onto the branch. I can feel Finnick watching me closely.

Our eyes meet.

And I leap backwards into the water.

It's really nothing compared to the cliff diving we do back home, there's not enough height for anything on that level, but I pull off my back flip with relative ease. The water cocoons my fall and when I breach the surface I grin and float on my back.

"What the hell was that?"

My body tenses up and whirls into a standing position so I'm treading water and looking at the person talking.

It's Cato. He and Zayn must have wandered over here while I was distracted with our diving competition. He doesn't look happy. His arms are crossed over his chest and he's scowling.

He can look at me with that vehement glare all he wants though, nothing can bring me down right now. Not while I'm in the water. This is my element. He has his swords and weapons and strength and I have my agility in the pool. I refuse to be intimidated by him in this moment.

"That," I say simply, "was a back flip."

"You said she was hopeless in the water," Cato says, shooting an accusing look at my mentor.

"Hopelessly good," Finnick replies coolly. He's leaned up against a tree with his arms crossed over his chest. He looks irritated and I'm almost certain it's at me. I should have known better than to show off like that with the Careers so close by. I've ruined everything. Our one plan has failed us. "Come on, Nic. Let's get you inside." He offers me a hand out of the pool and a towel to cover up in. I'm then ushered towards the elevators.

As we walk past Cato he grabs my arm and pulls me close to him. So close that my wet hair is dripping on his clothes and I can feel the heat radiating from his body. I look up at his face, which is mere inches from mine. If he wasn't snarling, he would be incredibly handsome I realize with shock. This would almost be like a scene from one of those old books my mother used to read.

Except the men in those books didn't make your arm hurt. Or whisper awful things in your ear that shake your confidence down to the core.

"Water won't be able to protect you. And neither will your partner. I'll kill him first." He leans closer to my ear as Finnick demands he let me go. "I'll make you watch." With a final brush of his lips to my ear, he shoves me into Finnick's arms.

I cower there, shaking. Whether it's from the cold air on my wet skin or what I've just been told, I can't entirely say.

I just want to go home.