I sit very stiffly down on the train, in a car by myself (Pleasure's mentor took her and fled) for a long while. I freak myself out the whole time, imagining what he's going to look like, what's he going to say!?

I sit quietly, frozen, until I hear the approaching footsteps of a very angry Dutch.

He gets like this sometimes. When he's happy, he's the best brother in the world. But it's not hard to make him mad, and when he's mad, Dutch gets violent. Definitely a quality from whoever his birthfather was. He refuses to look at me upon entering the room. Now, Dutch hasn't really treated me kindly since the Games ended (he doesn't treat anyone kindly anymore) but I know I'm in for it today.

"YOU IDIOT!" he roars, "YOU FUCKING IDIOT!" He clenches his fist and stomps over to me, "WHAT THE HELL WERE YOU THINKING!? OBVIOUSLY NOT OF THE PEOPLE THAT LOVE YOU!"

Surprisingly, I don't react with anger like I thought I would. I break down into tears the minute he starts screaming. I can only manage a small croak, "Dutch…"

"HOW THE HELL COULD YOU DO THIS TO ME!? HOW COULD YOU DO THIS TO DAD!? HOW COULD YOU DO THIS TO NICK!?"

I bury my face in my hands, "I'm going to help you."

He stares at me coldly for a long time. "Help?" he asks, finally, in a stone-hard voice. "HELP!?" he screams at me. "HOW THE HELL ARE YOU GOING TO HELP US?! The only thing we asked you to do was to shut your fucking mouth and stand there! The only thing we asked you to do was to NOT do this to us! CAN'T YOU EVEN LISTEN TO THAT!?"

"I'm going to win the Games, Dutch! And then I won't be a threat to you guys!"

"YOUR LIFE IS OFFICIALLY IN THE CAPITOL'S HANDS, OS!"

I finally decide that the only way to get to him is by yelling. "IT'S ALWAYS BEEN THERE! DON'T YOU SEE, DUTCH!? OUR LIVES HAVE BEEN IN THE CAPITOL'S HANDS EVER SINCE WE WERE BORN!"

He stares at me, seeming to soften up a little before he gets mad again. "HOW THE HELL IS THIS HELPING US?!"

"Because I can finally understand, Dutch!"

"Osmium…" his voice gets quieter, but, if anything, it gets angrier. "If you felt left out, maybe you should FUCKING TELL US INSTEAD OF DOING SOMETHING SO STUPID LIKE THIS!"

"MAYBE I HAVE OTHER REASONS!" He stops and stares at me. "Maybe it's not completely about you guys, ever think of that!?"

"What else would it be?!" he snaps.

"I'm sick and tired of being stomped on like I'm nothing! Pleasure still doesn't take me seriously. You were popular, people liked you because you trained well, you don't understand."

"What?"

"You know I have no friends."

"You have-"

"I have my father, my brother, and Nick. But you three have been shutting me out and I'm sick of it."

"You should've said something!"

"I've tried! You were just too stubborn to listen."

"So what!? Maybe you're just too good for those other kids."

"Those other kids have spent every day of my life either manipulating to be bumped up by you or Dad at the Academy, staring at me like I'm an alien when I walk past in the hallways, spreading a rumor that I got some girl pregnant, or yelling, Kill yourself, you fag!"

"You're lying! That can't be true! If it made you so upset, I would've noticed!"

"You're too angsty to have noticed!"

He breaks down again, in tears. "Osmium… Why'd you never talk to us?"

"You guys never wanted to talk."

"But that doesn't mean we don't love you, Os! And it certainly doesn't give you permission to do something stupid like this!"

I huff, frustrated. "You know, I don't understand why you can volunteer and it's all okay, but the moment I go into the Games, everyone explodes on me."

"I didn't volunteer because of any of you."

"Why, then?"

He sighs sadly, and I notice him stare off into space like he's reliving a flashback.

"The day I turned seventeen, I ran into my birth-father while I was walking. When I talked to him, and he realized who I was, he threw a punch or two and told me that I would amount to nothing because I'm a mistake. I told him that we were raised as more than mistakes. He said I'd still be nothing so I told him I was going to win the Games. I had to, Os."

"Well, I have to too. I've had it decided for a while."

He crumbles right in front of my eyes. "And you didn't tell me?"

"I didn't want to worry you!" I say desperately.

"YOU LITTLE SHIT!" One of his hands wraps around my neck and I gag. "Did you even look at me!? Some warning would've been nice! We as Victors, we aren't allowed to frown at the reapings! Not only did I have to contain my misery, but also my surprise! And I was already swallowing my fear!"

He lets go of my neck and I take a second to recover. Then, all I can say is, "I'm sorry, Dutch."

"It's too late for sorry now!" he says. "I was already horrified of being a mentor! I've been BEGGING you for WEEKS to not do it, and you can't even do that right!"

"I'm sorry, it's what I had to do!" I take off my glasses to wipe my eyes.

"Sorry's not good enough!" he yells. "If you die, it's ALL on ME! I was already TERRIFIED times TEN of being a mentor for the first time, and now I'm being forced to mentor the person I love more than ANYTHING in the whole WORLD!"

"You'd save Nick above me if we were hanging off a cliff!"

He blinks. "WHY THE HELL WOULD YOU THINK THAT!? YOU'RE MY BROTHER!"

"I dunno, that's just how it seemed!"

He sighs. "Os, you've seen a certain side of me that I haven't shown to anyone else."

"What?"

"I'm insane, Os! I'm emotionally unstable! If you die, I will tear myself to pieces! Nobody knows that, not even Dad. Nobody's ever seen that side of me. I only let it come out when I'm around you."

"Why?"

"Because you tolerate it. When we were kids, I was afraid to be moody around Dad. And as we grew up you became the only person that could deal with it. And I knew that no matter what I did you'd never stop loving me because you love everyone you fucking dork!"

I blink. "Oh."

"If I don't have you to depend on, who do I have!?"

"Dad and Nick."

"You're missing the point."

"Besides, you're talking like I'm going to die, anyways. I'm going to win, Dutch! And you're going to help me!"

He swallows hard and collapses in front of me, onto his knees. "That's just the problem, Ossy. I'll probably hate myself just as much… Maybe more… If you win."

"What? Why?"

"Because winning the Games is nothing to celebrate. Winning the Games is nothing good. Winning the Games ruins your whole life. Winning the Games surrenders your life to the Capitol. Winning the Games puts the fates of everyone you've ever known in danger. Winning the Games strips the skin right off of you and forces you to your knees at the feet of President Augustus. Winning the Games causes you to lose your innocence, and your virginity, which you can never get back. Winning the Games eliminates your private life. Winning the Games will eliminate your chances at finding true love. Winning the Games eliminates all of your self-worth. Winning the Games ruins you. You'll never get fixed."

"But we can. Together, we can fix each other! Isn't that what you and Dad and Nick do anyways?"

"No. We survive together."

"Maybe you'll be happy if I win the Games."

"Os-" he glances out the window, where the colorful city of the Capitol is coming into view. "I don't have time to say much. But I'll say this. You're innocent. And you need to embrace that innocence while you still have it. Enjoy it while it lasts. Because it won't last long."

He dries his tears and I follow his lead, drying mine. Then he puts on a big, unnatural Dutch smile and says, "Put your winning face on, Ossy. It's showtime." And with that, we pull into the Capitol station.


That night I sit next to Dutch, preparing for the reapings. Pleasure sits with her mentor, and Dasdemonda sits on the side.

Dutch looks terrified, (still), upset, (still), and frightened, (still). I lay against him lightly and he tries a smile but soon his eyes start to water.

Suddenly, Octavian Spencer, the interviewer for the Games (he's been there since my Dad's Games) flashes on the screen, and my stomach tightens. "Welcome, one and all, districts and Capitol, to the kickoff to the 21st annual Hunger Games!"

His co-announcer, who announces things in the Arena, is fairly new. I think that he debuted two years ago, which makes him fairly young, in his early twenties. Anyways, Stephano Stivason smiles broadly and adds, "And it's bound to be a show this year, yes it is!"

The two guys laugh together and both of them flash big smiles.

"Well, let's not keep a single soul in suspense any longer! Let's take a look at this year's reapings!" Stephano's voice sounds fairly normal, compared to the outrageous accent Octavian has and the stupid voice of President Augustus, and the low, cracking, heavily-accented voice of Edward O'Callaghan, the Head Gamemaker. Stephano sounds like some of the more normal ones: Walt Lassiter, a friend of my father's, and Geronimo Sedwick. But those two are a different story, to be told on a different day.

"Please, let's not take a look at this year's reapings," Dutch mumbles under his breath. I take his hand and squeeze it for support. There's a long pause before he squeezes back.

Then, our town square flashes on the screen and I suddenly feel like I'm going to throw up again.

Pleasure volunteers and she smiles proudly. Then Cerulean is reaped, and here comes the part I dread.

I realize I sound a lot squeakier than I thought I sounded. Then the covereage of our fight, and myself eventually stumbling up to the stage. Dutch's face flashes on the screen with the other Victors. He and Dad are smiling, but Dutch is shaking.

The Dutch next to me inhales sharply and squeezes my hand so hard it starts to go numb.

Octavian and Stephano appear on the screen again, exchanging an excited glance.

"Would you look at that!? We once again have the honor of announcing another of our beloved Krietzer Games! Only the best of entertainment is bound to be in store! We'll see if anyone can take down the Krietzer dynasty!" Octavian says excitedly. Dutch scowls.

"And just look at that brotherly pride there," Stephano points out with a small sigh, "That right there is a truly loving relationship." He smiles but something's different about the look in his eyes.

Pleasure scowls and complains loudly, "Just because he's a Krietzer doesn't mean he's any more important than me! I mean, the rest of us!"

I smile, allowing myself for once to be smug. "No, but it makes me more famous. More likely to get sponsors. It also means I have more potentian."

"Oh please. That's not brotherly pride. That's horror."

He takes a deep breath, swearing quietly to himself as he exhales. Then District 2 pops up on the screen and everyone's attention goes there.

The lady picks a girl's name, and, like at ours, someone volunteers before she's finished saying it. She runs to the stage and the crowd claps for her.

She's asked what her name is, and she shouts, "Marcella Addington!" she has brown hair that's so long it reaches her waist. She has huge brown eyes and tan skin, though either the escort is tall or she's really short.

They have to calm down the roaring crowd before the male is picked. Two voices ring out in exact unison, and a fight breaks out. The crowd screams, yells, and cheers loudly. One of them makes it to the stage, finally, and he holds up both his hands, clenched in tight fists, smiling crookedly but with an undoubtable look of victory.

The crowd bursts into changing: "POMP! POMP! POMP! POMP!"

He cheers along with them, howling like a wolf. Some of his friends in the crowd of 17's start to howl, too.

Dutch squeezes my hand hard.

"What's your name-" she barely gets it out before he roars, "POMPONIUS HILTON!" The crowd chants and screams and howls and screams, and I start to feel sick.

Then the District Three reapings come on, after Stephano and Octavian freak out about the 2 reapings. The girl looks fairly young and the boy has got to be close to our age: 17 or 18.

Then, the commentary is added and it switches to District 4.

The girl volunteers from the 18 section. She's small, as well. Her name is Lucy, she has brown hair pulled back in a bushy ponytail.

The boy is tall and powerful with shaggy blonde hair. I think his name is Sampson, or something like it. Stephano

Then, District Five comes on.

It's an ugly, smoggy, smoky, and dirty place, and the escort isn't any better. He probably is in Capitol standards, but not in mine.

The girl's name is called in his ridiculous voice: "Kara Chess!"

She comes out from the group of 17-year-olds, very calmly, to take her spot on stage. Then, the boy's name is chosen.

"Glitch McKinley!"

The whole crowd goes silent. Nothing happens for a long while, until shouting erupts and a boy is pulled up on the stage from the group of 13-year-olds. The poor kid looks like he's going to pass out, has a black eye from something, and is bleeding from where he was dragged. The Peacekeepers shove him forward, up the stairs, and he stumbles up on stage.

He's pale as a ghost, his big gray, almost silver eyes bubble up with tears. He has cracked glasses that are crooked on his face. His whole body shakes like a little dog. Then, he's shoved forward again to shake hands with Kara.

Then, the Capitolites come back on and talk about how much faith they have in Kara, not even mentioning what went on with the little boy (whose face will be branded into my memory forever but whose name I already forget). I swallow hard and Dutch gives my hand a quick squeeze.

Then the District 6 reapings come on.

District Six is just about as smoky and smoggy as District Five.

The escort chooses a girl's name, and that name belongs to a little 12-year-old girl with longe blonde hair and particularly rosy cheeks.

The boy is tall and strong. A little hot, I'll admit, but he looks so upset it's depressing. Dutch bumps my shoulder and gives me a harsh look. I blink, shaking my head. He's right, I can't think like that. If you're wondering how he read my mind, well, I guess it's just a half-brother thing.

After Stephano and Octavian speak about the District Six boy, whose name I learn is Lanchester but will probably soon forget, the District Seven reapings come on.

The girl is picked first, with much enthusiasm from the escort: 'Marlowe Glaiser!" There's a pause, then a girl emerges from the group of seventeens and walks to the stage. She has wavy, dark hair with blonde highlights, pulled up into two short pigtails.

"She's cute," I whisper. Dutch grunts, but a light pink blush spreads across his face that signifies that he agrees.

Then, something interesting happens. A boy's name is picked, but a voice in the crowd shouts out instead, "I volunteer!" District 7 very rarely has volunteers. He runs up to the stage. He has light brown hair and bright hazel eyes but looks hysterical. He walks slowly over to Marlowe and the poor girl looks shocked and especially upset.

The escort commends such a "brave young man" but my eye keeps going to Marlowe, who looks to be fighting tears. Dutch lightly squeezes my hand but keeps on a straight face.

Stephano and Octavian scream about a volunteer from a middle District, and how rare it is and how wonderful this is!

"His District partner certainly wasn't happy," Stephano adds. Then he breathes a little sigh. Something tells me he doesn't like the Games, from how he acts… But why would he be there if he didn't love it?

District 8 passes but there's nobody noteworthy. Both tributes are fairly young and look terrified.

District Nine appears next. The girl is tall and looks strong. The boy is 14, and he looks starving. He has short, copper hair that sweeps into his eyes. He walks slowly up to the stage, and luckily he doesn't need any help from Peacekeepers.

Wow, he is really brave.

Then Octavian and Stephano show sympathy to District 9 for not such a good crop this year.

After that, it's onto District 10. Two are reaped: the girl from the 18's, and the boy from the 16's. Denise and Boxer, I think their names were.

The two Capitolites gush at the pure power and express their hope for District 10 to have a Victor this year. Then on comes District 11.

There's a cute little girl named Daisy and a frowning 14-year-old named Sprout. I feel so bad… For a District to lose two of the youngest to the Games… But Dutch bumps me again and I keep watching District 12.

From District 12, a short 16-year-old that looks like he's from the same area as most of District 12's other tributes: with dark hair, olive skin, and gray eyes. The girl is tall and comes from the 17-year-olds. She's from the same area as him, with the same dark hair, short and straight, olive skin, and light gray eyes. Her name is Carrie, I think they said. Maybe it was different… I don't remember.

Then the Capitolites make closing remarks, as the 24 faces of the tributes flash on the screen again. When I see my face, it's smiling and happy, so that's good, I guess. I try to see how many names I remember as they all flick by.

District One: Pleasure. Os. Two: Marcella. Pomponius. Three: Dunno. Dunno. Four: Lucy. Sampson. Five: Dunno. Dunno. Six: Dunno. Lanchester. Seven: Dunno. Reuben? Eight: Dunno. Dunno. Nine: Dunno. Chase. Ten: Denise. Boxer. Eleven: Dunno. Sprout. Twelve: Rawdon? Carrie.

Definitely not a lot. But I got all of my alliance, so that's a good thing. Then the Capitol Seal flashes one last time and the screen goes back before a commercial pops up.

Then Dutch stands up. "Let's get some sleep," he yawns out, stretching his arms.

"Good idea," Pleasure and her mentor leave.

"You too, Os," Dutch says. I snap out of my thoughts and nod quickly, standing up. "Yeah."

"It's going to be a long day tomorrow," Dutch says, "So get a good night's rest."

I nod. He walks me back to me room. "Sleep tight," Dutch says. He kisses the top of my head and leaves me to get showered and get into bed.