And finally…. THE DISTRICT ONE REAPINGS!

Skar Hommes smiled at his reflection in the mirror, admiring his thick hair and bare, muscled chest. Grinning jauntily, he flicked his hair the way all the girls liked [in his mind].

"Gawd, I'm hot," he said to no one in particular, flexing a beefy bicep, tricep and several other 'ceps.

He could hear his parent's usual loud argument downstairs, but same-old, same-old. A large crash indicated Mackaa and Joan's usual brawl.

Idiots, Skar thought, they just need something to do since they didn't get the good looks.

He flicked his hair again.

He thought vaguely about putting on a shirt, but decided against it. The more Capitol girls to fall in love with him, the better, he decided. And really, who could resist?

"Ladies first!" squealed the escort, skipping over to the reaping bowl.

Loula Sanez smiled encouragingly at her younger sister farther back in the crowd.

She didn't really think Lara would be chosen, of course, her name was only in the bowl once. She didn't think she could handle it if-

"Lara Sanez."

Loula's tanned face drained of colour. Her heart raced in her ears, and she bit her lip to keep from breaking out in tears. Think, Loula. If someone has to go, it should be you.

"I volunteer!"

Skar strutted up on the stage to join the tiny, weak girl already standing there. Flashing a wink at Daphne, Fella, Ricka, Peep, and several other of the girls he couldn't remember the names of, he flexed his muscles as the short, wiry escort shrunk back in terror. The tiny girl, who's name he didn't bother to listen to, crossed her arms defiantly

This was going to be fun.

Lara was sobbing into Loula's new dress, but Loula didn't care. Chances were, she'd never get to wear it again, and she knew she'd never regret volunteering for Lara, her best friend in the world. Her only friend.

"I'm so s-sorry, Loula," cried Lara.

Loula hugged her sister as their dad stood over them and squeezed Loula's shoulder reassuringly. "It's not your fault."

"Good luck out there, darling." Brian's voice cracked as he bid his eldest daughter farewell. "Just remember everything we practiced, and you'll be okay."

Loula begin to cry as well. "I will, dad, I will."

Wiping the lipstick of his four girlfriends of his mouth, and fixing his hair for the cameras, Skar was surprised by another group of visitors. He figured his friends would be the last, but his family was filing into the room before him.

His father shook his head. "What a stupid thing to do, Skar."

His sister Jerla snorted. Skar never liked her. She was probably just jealous. Everyone was.

"Did you actually think you'd win?" she taunted. "Skar Hommes, bloodbath tribute. Bet you'll set the record for earliest death."

Skar lunged at her, but his brothers dragged him back. "Seriously, dude. Good looks aren't going win it for you," Mackaa informed him.

Skar flicked his hair in annoyance.

"Good looks?" laughed Jerla. "Yeah, Mackaa, they won't win it for him because he- doesn't- have- them." She drew out the last few words for maximum provoking.

"Honestly, Skar, I'm sorry but I don't think you have much of a chance." His mother shrugged and smiled weakly.

"Oh yeah? Since when have you ever paid attention to me?" Skar snapped.

"You could have at least put on a shirt," His father raised his eyebrows. "I'm very disappointed in you, son."

Skar called the Peacekeeper to make them leave.

"Forget it," he said to the mirror. "They might as well put my name on that crown already. Skar Hommes, 111th Hunger Games victor."

Love it? Hate it? REVIEW IT! And keep sending in those tributes!