District 1

When Hip boarded the train, he was surprised to see the other tribute was already on. She was sitting by the window, waving to the crowd that had gathered. He took a moment to observe her. She was extremely beautiful; there was no denying it. Her skin was unblemished, sun-kissed to the color of caramel. She had a nice body too, and shining brown hair that fell down her back in waves.

The corner of Hip's mouth curled into a lopsided smirk. He sauntered over and sat down across from her, just as the train started up. As it picked up speed and District 1 was left in the dust, she turned to face him, looking him up and down as he had just done to her.

"Hello." She smiled delicately, gazing at him from underneath her long eyelashes.

"Hey." Hip grinned and winked. "Champagne, right?"

"Chanpagne." She corrected, running her fingers through her hair, "But please call me Channa. Hip, right?"

"Right." He tipped his head to the side, his golden-brown eyes soft with admiration. "You're awfully pretty, aren't you?"

"I am." Channa laughed, "But I think I'm a little old for you. You're only 15 and I'm 17."

"Age is just a number." Hip said, raising one eyebrow, "Besides, I'm turning 16 in less than three weeks."

"Sure you are." Channa responded, rolling her eyes. "If you don't mind celebrating your birthday in hell."

"Ouch." Hip recoiled, as if she had slapped him across the face. But a good-humored smile still played on his lips. "Actually, if I'm going to be dead, I want to celebrate it in heaven with my parents…see, they died when I was young and I never even met them…" He sighed and looked away, shaking his head sadly.

"Oh…I'm sorry." She said, her expression softening. A moment of silence passed between them. Hip let out a sudden bark of laughter. Channa stared at him, looking flustered. "What's wrong with you?"

"I never met my parents, but I couldn't care less." Hip shrugged nonchalantly, "I just pretend to be sad about it. It's fun to see people's reactions and listen to their apologies."

"Oh. Well then, it's a good thing I was only pretending to be sorry." Channa huffed, tossing her hair.

Hip looked highly entertained. "Then I'll pretend to forgive you."

The two continued this banter for a long while, half-flirting, half-taking jabs at each other. After about an hour, Hip decided that he liked this girl. She wasn't one of those brainless drones that would fall head over heels for him as soon as he took a breath of the same air as them. She was spunky and she had her wits about her. And, since she was a Career just like him, she was dangerous.

She'll make a great companion in the Games… Hip thought, eyes sparkling maliciously, until it's time to kill her.

District 2

The train ride for District 2 was a quiet one.

Sienna didn't bother making chitchat with Bridon. She sat down in a chair that was as far as possible from his own and merely observed him. She had seen him around the Victor's Village before, with both of them having a father who had won the games, and recognized him. But she had never taken the time to actually look at him.

He was tall, definitely breaching six feet. He had a large, square jaw and thick brows that rested above cold blue eyes that were constantly darting around, as if he expected to be attacked at any moment. He had extremely dark hair with a tint of brown, cut short. He was heavyset and muscular—his muscles practically bulged out of the shirt he was wearing. He looks like a Neanderthal. Sienna thought to herself.

"What are you looking at?"

He had caught her staring at him. She hesitated. Well, someone was going to have to say it sooner or later…

"We're both Careers. Want to form an alliance?" She asked, trying to look as innocent as possible.

He narrowed his eyes, mistrusting. But when he spoke, he said, "Sure," and proceeded to turn his back on her to gaze out the window.

A sly smile crossed Sienna's face. Excellent…

District 3

After about ten minutes on the train, District 3's escort appeared to turn on the TV. There was a live recap of all the Reapings and she had said it would be good for them to see their opponents.

Gadgette and Jack watched the screen intently. District 1 was your usual glamorous pair that seemed like they were in it for the fame and fortune. District 2's tributes were definitely the most deadly. Gadgette briefly wondered if she was gazing upon her potential murderers.

When they started talking about District 3 and "the female tribute's breakdown on national television," Gadgette had to leave the room. She couldn't stand to relive the cursed Reaping all over again.

Apparently, Jack felt the same way, because he followed her. They stayed in the refreshment cart for a while, picking at tarts that were too rich for their shrunken stomachs.

"I feel bad for District 1," Jack commented lightly, "Their whole schedule must have been thrown off because of that girl's speech."

Gadgette just looked at him. She couldn't see why it mattered. All of the districts were set at a different distance from the Capitol…in fact, District 1 would probably be the first ones to arrive.

"Do you want to go back?" Jack asked, when she didn't respond.

"Okay." She agreed shyly.

When they returned to the first room, the screen was flashing the words "District 6" and was going over what had happened at their Reaping.

Gadgette sat down in a chair to watch, but seeing all of these other tributes being taken away from their families made her sick to her stomach. She brought her knees up to her chest, curled into a little ball, and closed her eyes, willing sleep to take her.

District 4

"Um…c-can I talk to you?" Bassin stammered.

Frederick, who had been concentrating on a delicious cheesecake, looked at Bassin in surprise. She had been quiet the whole train ride, until now.

"I was wondering…are you going to join the Career alliance?"

"Career alliance?" Frederick echoed.

She nodded, speaking more confidently as she went on. "Yeah, you know. Every year the Careers form an alliance and since we're from a Career district, I thought you might—"

"No." He said firmly, "I have no plans to join the Careers."

"Oh…" Bassin hung her head, looking disappointed, "Well, I was thinking of joining them, but…can I join you?"

Frederick just stared at the poor girl, feeling sorry for her. She was so scrawny and pathetic. She probably wouldn't last long at all. "Sorry, but I'm not planning on making any alliances. I prefer to work alone."

"Okay." She said in a hushed voice, "I just don't want to be alone. So I'm thinking I'm gonna join the Careers. I didn't have a lot of training and—"

"Bassin." He cut her off again. "We're from the same district, you and I, but that does not mean we're allies. There can only be one victor. So I think it would be best if we stopped talking to one another."

"Oh…okay. I'm sorry." She apologized, her voice trembling. He could see her biting her lip, trying to hold back tears. Once again, he had to push away the pity he felt for her.

Emotions were only a weakness when it came to the Hunger Games.

District 5

On the train coming from District 5, the two tributes were also watching the coverage of the recent Reapings. Before they sat down to do so, they had exchanged a quick greeting in which Cassia deemed Cole as "a nice guy."

But as soon as the Reapings came on, he was gawking at the girl from District 1. "Wow…" He breathed, "She's beautiful, isn't she?"

Cassia squinted at the TV. "Oh yeah. Absolutely gorgeous." She said sarcastically. Normally, she would have used some choice words to describe a girl like that, and "beautiful" wasn't one of them. But she didn't want to start mouthing off in front of a boy she barely knew, so she shut up and watched it with him.

When they got to District 5, Cassia watched herself being led onto the stage by the Peacekeepers. She was pale and wide-eyed with fear, but at least she didn't break down like that girl from District 3 had done. What was her name? Gadgette?

Suddenly, the announcers on the TV started talking about how the odds definitely weren't in Cassia's favor. "She's only 12 years old, and you know how they're usually the first ones to go…"

She didn't realize she was trembling until Cole put a comforting hand on her shoulder. She looked at him, completely petrified.

"Don't worry." He soothed, "That's not always the case. I promise you won't be the first one to go."

She nodded, hoping with all of her heart that he was right, but knowing that it wasn't a promise that could be kept.

District 6

Chat was astounded by the luxurious interior of the train when they first boarded. But now, fidgeting in one of the softest chairs she had ever sat in, she was immensely uncomfortable. Her mind kept shifting back to Trail and District 6. She searched desperately for a way to keep herself entertained…

"Hey you! What's your name again?" She said to the boy sitting across the aisle from her. He had been gazing out the window. After a brief hesitation, he looked at her with a confused expression.

"Who, me?"

"Well yeah! You're the only one here, aren't you?" She snapped.

"Oh, sorry. My name's Mitch. Who are you?"

"Chat. And don't forget it because I'm not going to tell you twice, Mr. Space-Case."

Mitch looked amused. "Okay, Chat." He agreed.

She looked him over once more, realizing that she shouldn't have passed him off as bloodbath fodder so soon. He was about six feet tall with broad shoulders that seemed to contain a hidden power. Aside from that, he wasn't half-bad looking, with pretty blue eyes and short, brown hair that was just a little bit spiky. His good looks could help him get sponsors. But Chat couldn't care less what he looked like. If she was going to get back to her brother, he had to die.

By the way she was glaring at him, he must have guessed what she was thinking.

"You want to get back to your family, don't you?" He said quietly.

She nodded. "Yup. I have a little brother."

"I can relate. I have two younger sisters." Mitch went on, "It's hard, leaving them behind like this…"

"I'm not leaving him." Chat snapped, "I'm being taken away from him against my will. There's a difference."

"Sorry." Mitch muttered, and changed the subject to chariot outfits. He mentioned how last year their district had been dressed in poorly made car costumes, and he was hoping they wouldn't get the same treatment this time around.

Chat didn't give a crap about what they were going to wear, but she regarded her opponent with a new thoughtfulness. He was quiet and spacey, that was for sure, but he had a knack for silently gathering information and holding onto it. He was observant. Maybe this quirk would help him in the arena.

Then again, maybe it wouldn't.

District 7

Tasi gazed morosely out the window, drinking in the sights of District 7 for what could be the last time in his life. The other tribute, Calista, came and sat down next to him, but he ignored her. He was in no mood for idle chitchat. Then, just as the train started its engine and began to start moving slowly, he caught a flash of movement in the corner of his eye. He turned his head and looked.

It was Hope. She was a bright golden blur racing alongside the train, eyes searching the windows for her master's face. When she caught sight of him, she let out a joyous bark and doubled her speed. Tasi could only watch helplessly as she sprinted towards him in what was a futile effort. The train was picking up speed, and she was starting to fall behind. She was obviously tired, panting heavily, but still she pushed on. It was painful to watch.

Stay, Hope. Tasi pleaded silently, Please. Stay.

As if complying, she slowed a great deal. She took a few more steps, but they were in vain. Finally, she stopped altogether. She stood there, ears pricked, tail limp, watching the train take Tasi away from her.

He watched Hope's silhouette until it had disappeared. Then he turned away from the window and buried his face in his hands. If only he could have explained to Hope what had happened. But now, she was probably thinking he had abandoned her.

There was a light touch on his arm, and a voice said, "That was your dog wasn't it…? I'm so sorry…" He looked up and locked eyes with his fellow tribute. Calista. The crazy one that had volunteered before they could even spit the name out. "I had a dog too." She went on in a soft tone of voice, "It's the hardest thing in the world…saying goodbye."

"Thanks…for your condolences, I mean." Tasi said awkwardly.

Calista smiled. "You're welcome." There was a long pause. Then she offered, "I like your hair. It's almost as curly as mine." She reached over and gave a tentative tug on his ponytail.

Tasi couldn't help but smile a little bit. This girl was kind, and pretty too. He was upset over losing Hope and being entered into the Hunger Games against his will, but to have a companion that was going through the same suffering…it was nice. Misery loves company, after all.

And when she smiled at him, his heart couldn't help but beat a little bit faster.

District 8

Abbadon sat down directly across from Ash and made a point to blankly stare at her. She was a wimpy-looking redhead with bangs that hung over her eyes, which had dark circles underneath them. She kept casting nervous glances up at him, would see him staring, and then quickly look away. Finally, she bucked up enough courage to whisper, "Would you please stop?"

Abbadon snorted. "What, am I not allowed to look at you?"

She didn't respond.

"So what makes you so special?" Her opponent went on, "Are you gonna win the Games? How are you gonna do that, huh?"

"W-Well…" She said timidly, "I'm pretty smart. I can solve puzzles and—"

Abbadon laughed cruelly. "Seriously? You think you're gonna win by being smart? It's a death match, honey. Not a chess match."

Ash glared at her feet, clenching her fists. "I know."

"But you never know. Maybe they changed it this year. Maybe the arena will be the set of a quiz show."

Ash muttered something.

"What's that?" Abbadon smirked. "You're going to have to speak up. Jeez, if you can't even speak at a proper volume, just how do you expect to—"

"I SAID SHUT UP!" Ash said, exploding like a volcano, "JUST SHUT UP AND LEAVE. ME. ALONE!" With that, she stood up and left the cart, slamming the door behind her.

Abbadon shut up.

District 9

Cara was pretty friendly and Drake hit it off with her pretty fast. They talked about their lives in District 9. Her life seemed to be pretty much perfect. Until the Reaping, anyways. She told him about her large family, and he told her about his small one. When he mentioned he didn't have a father, she started to apologize, but he cut her off, saying it didn't matter and not to worry about it.

"Okay…" She said slowly at one point, "I'm going to seem like such a jerk for asking this. But what happened to your right hand?"

"You're not a jerk. And I don't mind telling." Drake shrugged. "I was being an idiot and showing off in front of my friends when I was younger. Trying to show them my prowess with a sickle. I'm cutting wheat one second, and the next second…my hand's just a bleeding stump."

Cara winced. "Ouch."

"Yeah. Ouch." Drake agreed.

"Well, if it makes you feel any better, I've got a bit of a handicap too."

Drake looked confused. "…Why would that make me feel better?"

Cara giggled. "I guess it wouldn't, would it? Anyways, I was fooling around, climbing on the roof of my house when I was seven. I fell and landed on a shovel. Amputated my right pinky toe."

It was Drake's turn to wince.

"And as I'm sure you know, the doctors in District 9 aren't exactly top notch. They tried to repair my foot and ended up snagging a tendon. And tada! Now I can't run very fast. Probably not the best weakness to have when you're entering the Hunger Games."

"You could always climb," Drake suggested, "If it happens to be a woods arena. That one seems to be a Gamemaker favorite, so that's what I'm guessing it's gonna be this year."

Cara contemplated this for a moment. "Yeah…" She said quietly, "But you never know."

District 10

"My name's Olivia. What's your name?"

"Shem Dog." Shem responded, turning away from the window to face his fellow tribute.

Olivia couldn't help but laugh inwardly. That was definitely the strangest name she had ever heard. "Nice to meet you, Shem Dog."

"Same." He responded, nodding respectfully, and turning back to gaze out the window.

Olivia didn't want to sit here in silence, so she tried to keep the conversation going as best she could. "So…you nervous about the Hunger Games?" As soon as she said it, she realized how stupid it sounded. She might as well have asked him if he was nervous about dying.

His answer surprised her. "I know I should be, but I'm not…I just feel so confident. After watching the Games for 17 years, I feel like I know how to get by."

"Hello, hello, hello!" Their male escort hurried in and turned on the TV, "I was supposed to let you watch the coverage of the Reapings, but it totally slipped my mind! Oh, curses. We've already missed District 1."

He turned and jogged quickly from the room, back to wherever he had come from. Olivia and Shem turned their attention to the TV. On the screen was an extremely muscular 18-year old from District 2. The name underneath him read, "Bridon Jakkels."

They watched the rest of the Reapings in silence. All sorts of different people made up their list of opponents. There was the crying girl from District 3, the dangerous-looking boy with the mohawk from District 8, the two volunteers from District 12…

Olivia tried to keep all of their names straight in her head, but it was hard remembering all of their faces. She kept thinking of the muscular boy from District 2 and the intimidating boy from District 8. After the Reapings were over, she turned to Shem. "Still feeling confident you can win?"

He didn't respond.

District 11

Caden sat on the train, staring out the window, highly aware of the other tribute's presence. But he just wasn't in the mood to talk. For once in his life, he just wanted absolute silence. He felt miserable. Unfortunately, the female tribute didn't share this desire for peace and quiet.

"Sooo…my name's Julia." She said awkwardly, "What was your name again? Caden?"

He looked at her and gave a slight nod. She stared back at him, scrutinizing him with her gray-blue eyes. He stared back, trying to observe her as his opponent. She was thin and lithe in build—no doubt she was fast, but she probably wasn't very strong. She was tanned too, probably from working in the fields of District 11. She didn't seem too threatening.

The escort showed up and turned on the TV, just as a few others had done in separate districts. They watched the recap, with Julia making small noises of approval the whole way through. Caden kept shooting glances at her, wondering what on earth she was so happy about. Then he realized she was checking out the male tributes. She especially seemed to like the ones from Districts 1, 4, and 12, the drop-dead handsome ones.

"Okay," Julia said, once the Reapings were over. She turned to face Caden, her face dead serious. "On a scale of 1 to 10, how much of a chance do you think I have with the boy from District 1?"

Caden just sighed and rolled his eyes.

This was going to be a long trip.

District 12

Ellis was on the train a long while, wondering where her fellow tribute was. The train had left District 12 a few hours ago and yet he was nowhere to be found. Would they really have left without him? Deciding that he must be somewhere, she made herself comfortable and settled in for a nap.

When she woke up, he still hadn't returned, so she decided to get up and look for him. It didn't take long at all. She found him in the refreshments cart, clutching a glass filled with a dark, purple liquid. He was lying his head on the table and didn't acknowledge her presence until she spoke.

"Aren't you a little young to be drinking?" She asked, sitting down next to him. "How old are you?"

"Sixteen. And the escort said the exact same thing." Carson replied, lifting his head and taking a sip from his glass. "But I told her, 'I'm probably going to be dead in three weeks, so I'm gonna do what I want.' Then she left me alone."

"Oh," was all Ellis could manage to say, staring at the half-finished bottle of wine.

"Would you like to try some? It'll make being here more bearable." He grimaced, grabbing the bottle and holding it out to her.

She hesitated. "Well…just a sip…" He poured her a glass, spilling some on the table as he went. She took it from him, staring into the reddish-purple depths uncertainly. Oh, why not… She tasted it and immediately screwed her face up. She had been expecting something sweet, like grape juice, but the wine was extremely bitter and dry. "Yuck." She handed it back to him.

"It's an acquired taste." He said, finishing off his glass and smiling wryly at his fellow competitor.

Just then, their escort burst into the room, chortling, "We're here!"

They both turned to look out the window.

"Wow." Ellis breathed.

The Capitol was so much bigger than she had imagined. There were too many buildings to count, many of them tall skyscrapers that reached towards the clouds. There were many smaller homes on the outskirts too; large, pristine houses that weren't falling apart like the shack she lived in. All of them had perfect little lawns and bright flowers that matched their bright paint jobs.

The people that walked the streets were even flashier than the houses, and turned to gawk as the train whizzed on by. When they pulled into the station, a crowd had gathered. They were all screaming their heads off and waving frantically. Some towards the back of the crowd were jumping up and down to get a look at District 12's tributes. Both Ellis and Carson backed away from the window shyly. Watching hordes of people fawning over them was frightening, but at the same time, it triggered a certain excitement.

Ellis suddenly felt as if she were a celebrity. And for a moment, she completely forgot that she was here to die for these peoples' entertainment.