A/N: Here are the District 2 Reapings. :)

Just a few little updates for you guys:

I am currently in the process of finding a beta, so please bear with the errors just a little bit longer. :D

I'm leaving tomorrow morning to go camping with my friends for the weekend, so don't expect another update until Monday or Tuesday. Hopefully, when I come home, there will be tons of reviews and the rest of the tribute submissions waiting for me, and I will feel very motivated to write more of this story instead of sleep. :)

Jocelyn's POV:

The house rang out with Grew's obnoxiously loud voice. "Where is Jocelyn?" he demanded as calmly as was humanly possible for someone of his aggressive nature. I didn't respond, but eventually, my stepfather found me; in my room trying to tame the excruciating mess of curly blonde hair that fell down just past my shoulders.

Grew stood in the doorway of my bedroom. Mother never allowed him to actually enter my room, so this was as close as he dared to get. "Now, Jocelyn, remember our deal?" he said, still unnaturally calm.

"Yes, sir." I sighed, chewing my bottom lip. "Volunteer to be a tribute so I can bring glory to our district and to our family."

"That's right. And if you don't, you'll wish you'd been killed in the Games."

"But sir, why don't you just make Jerrold volunteer? He's two years older than I am, he stands a much better chance at actually winning, and he's your own flesh and blood, so he should be bringing glory to the family, not me."

"Don't give me any of your back talk, you ungrateful creature. And I hope you've finished all your chores."

"Yes, sir, they're all finished," I sighed.

Ever since my mother married Grew, I've been the house slave. He and his three sons treat me terribly. Mother knows nothing of it, because she works all day and sometimes night as a doctor. Besides, I would never be able to stand up to Grew myself.

My father was a doctor a well; one of the most well-known in the district. So, you can imagine the hype when famous doctor and surgeon Bay Asher died from a serious viral infection that also claimed the lives of a dozen or more residents of District 2.

Father always encouraged me to become a doctor as well. Whenever he had anything to study, he would bring home medical books, and we would study them together. I always loved spending time with my father.

Unfortunately, after Father died, Mother had to marry Grew. I'm fairly certain she doesn't really like him, let alone love him, but he has enough money to keep us off the streets. And to hire a maid, but apparently I'm good enough for that job.

So here I stood, in front of my 5-foot mirror (4 inches too short for me, so I always have to bend down to see my full reflection), examining the dress that Grew had so 'graciously' bought for me at a second hand store (which doesn't make sense to me, seeing as how he is rich and all).

I don't expect much of anything, but I have to admit, this dress was down right pitiful. It was a hideously faded shade of light brown, with spaghetti straps that always slipped off my shoulders, and the bottom hem ended at a very unflattering point just below my knees.

I'm pretty sure that if someone from another part of Panem found out I lived in a Career district, they wouldn't believe me.

Kyon's POV:

I tapped gently on my sister's bedroom door. "Mel! It's time to get up. We've got a big day ahead of us!"

My 12 year old sister Melissa moaned something that sounded like "I'm up," so I left her alone.

Today was Mel's first reaping. Of course, she wasn't going to volunteer her first time, but she was eager to be a part of all the excitement. I would love to volunteer myself, only I would hate to leave Mel alone.

Melissa and I have been on our own for quite some time. She's only three years younger than me, but I'm the closest thing she has to a parent. Our real parents were killed seven years ago. Ever since then, I've had to grow up pretty fast, because we never had any relatives living close enough to help out, or willing to take us in.

While I waited for Mel to get ready, I pulled on a red v-neck sweater, with jeans and a matching red and black striped scarf for good measure. I ran my fingers through my chestnut coloured hair a few times in a failed attempt to keep it from falling into my eyes, then took a seat at the breakfast table.

I've been able to keep the house up and running pretty well. I've been working two part-time jobs, and recently, Mel has been taking on a job of her own.

If anyone knows that Mel and I live alone, no one ever mentions it, to us anyway. We just go on living like we would if we still had our parents; we have enough money to afford food and nice clothes, and we manage find our way to school everyday.

Eventually, Mel trotted downstairs, wearing a sky blue dress that, of course, she picked out. She had somehow managed to sculpt her hair into a fancy updo herself.

Together, we walked toward town square, where the reapings were held every year.

Jocelyn's POV:

We were now nearing the town square. I could see each area roped off for different age groups, and every girl present was wearing a dress at least ten times pretty than mine. Not that I care about vanity, of course. I just hate standing out like a sore thumb, especially in a crowd of strangers. It unnerves me.

Grew became uncomfortably close all of a sudden, and whispered in my ear, "Remember our deal. Glory to the family," before shoving me in the direction of the fourteens. My square rimmed glasses slipped forward on my nose as he did this, so I pushed them back on properly, and continued making my way toward my designated area as my mother signed us all in.

I am fairly certain this whole scheme of his is just a way to dispose of me with his having to get his hands dirty.

After the usual history lesson that most people who were half intelligent could recite by heart at this point, our eccentric escort by the name of Kevyn Chambers approached the podium where the mayor had just been. Kevyn had a shockingly green hair and eyebrow combo, and a surprisingly deep voice, considering how tight his skin was from all the Capitolistic plastic surgery.

Grew and my mother were in perfect sight of me. They both waved, but there was a snarl playing on Grew's mouth that dared me to disobey him.

As Kevyn read out the name of the chosen female, I was already running toward the stage. I didn't look around to see how many other females were volunteering, nor did I wait to be picked.

As I grew closer to the stage, I began to notice just how tall Kevyn really was, and became automatically intimated. It seemed as though no one else was making any extreme efforts to beat me to the stage, so I slowed my pace to a walk, prolonging the distance between myself and Kevyn.

Eventually, I made it onstage. I tried to keep my distance from this strange man, but he would not hear of it. He closed the gap with half a step of his long legs, and handed me the microphone.

I guess I was supposed to say my name. The sight of the mighty crowd before me set off some kind of alarm in my head, so I ended up staring blankly ahead at the tens of thousands of eyes that I was sure were peering into my very soul. Kevyn reminded me of what to say (my name), and I snapped back to reality, but I still stuttered nervously.

"J-Jocelyn Asher," I said clumsily before stepping back, embarrassed, and letting Kevyn pick the male tribute.

Kyon's POV:

I watched as a poor, shy girl volunteered to be the female tribute. Poor thing, I wonder what possessed her to want to play in the Games. She didn't seem like the murderous type, or the type that would be hungry for fame and glory.

I was surrounded by many of my friends in the area for fifteens. A little ways behind me, Mel stood with her age group. Neither of us were very worried, until we heard the name of the chosen male tribute.

"Kyon Dalton, come on up here!"

This escort was nuts. He was making this entire ordeal sound like a game show. Although, to most people in our district, it probably was.

I glanced back at Mel. Playing in the Games would be such an honour. I only need her approval.

Mel nodded solemnly, encouraging me to accept. She's mature for her age; we both are, I suppose; but I knew Mel was capable of taking care of herself until I returned home, so I walked up to the stage, waved to the crowd a little, and shook hands with the female tribute, Jocelyn. She seemed really freaked out by my height of 6 feet, and I thought for sure that she was going to chew her bottom lip off.

Next thing I knew, we were being whisked off to the Justice Building.