A/N: Happy New Year's Eve! The reviews are very much appreciated. Please keep them coming! :) Chapter after this will be training scores and leading up to the interviews. This chapter is a little different, and there are references to mature themes from the book series, but it's nothing explicit.

"What do you think is on the other side?" Emily asked in a small voice when the elevator came to a stop.

It had been a short ride, as they'd only moved one floor up from the training center. Alison barely had thirty seconds to give an abbreviated version of the morning's events to the other girl.

"We're a few seconds from finding out," Ali replied. "You're not backing out, right?"

There was a moment of slight hesitation before the dark-haired girl shook her head slightly. "No," she said, repeating the motion, more decisive the second time.

Alison held back a sigh of relief as the other girl followed her into the hallway. Investigating alone didn't normally scare her, but there was a nervousness bubbling in her stomach and her heartbeat wasn't quite even. Not that she'd tell anyone that.

It felt better somehow to not be alone, even if her companion was hardly more than a stranger. But not really a stranger. Emily had a place in memories just out of Alison's reach. She was in the part of Alison's mind that was muddled and unclear, where everything was so distorted that it was impossible to tell fantasy from reality. The memory was already destroyed beyond repair.

The real question was why Emily would even care about an incident that happened over three years ago. She shouldn't. Yet, there was this unmistakable look of concern in her dark eyes, not quite pity, but like she actually gave a shit about the blonde's well-being for some unfathomable reason.

It wasn't what Alison was used to, and it left her with an uncomfortable vulnerability that she suspected was partly to blame for the apprehension she felt now. Regardless of this, her gut told her to keep Emily close. Ali couldn't get a read on the girl's motives, but as far as she could tell, they were unselfish and pure. She appeared loyal.

If Emily was as trustworthy as Alison thought she was, she would make a great ally. She only had to pass this test.

The hallway itself was similar to the floor below, with cream-colored walls and velvet carpet. It would have been identical had it not been much shorter in length. The two girls quickly reached the end of it and found themselves in front of an extravagant set of windowless doors. A sign stood directly to the side.

"Only mentors, escorts, and stylists beyond this point," Alison read aloud, nearly echoing Jason's words from earlier.

She grasped the knob and ran her fingers over the intricate glass patterns. It felt like even the slightest touch would smudge or deface it in some way. Whatever was on the other side had to be important. She could feel her excitement building as she turned the knob and edged one of the doors open.

"Wait," Emily said, and Alison paused to listen.

"Maybe we shouldn't do this. We could get caught."

Alison tapped her fingers against the knob impatiently and threw back the first Ali-esque response that came to mind. "Run back to training if you're scared. No one's stopping you."

Emily bit her lip and her eyes darted back down the hall. Ali wondered if her words were too sharp. The girl had offered her nothing but kindness so far.

"No…I'm okay. I'm just making sure you know what we're getting into. I mean, the Capitol takes rules really seriously," Emily said. Her voice was level, stronger than Alison expected, but she wouldn't make eye contact and her face was slightly flushed.

Ali considered that for a moment. She knew there was a possibility of facing consequences, but what could they do to her that would be worse than throwing her into a fight to the death?

"We're already being punished for a rebellion that happened before we were born. Until we get into that arena, we're untouchable," Alison reminded the other girl, taking care to make sure her voice wasn't harsh like before. Trust was a two-way street. She couldn't afford to scare off a potential ally.

"That's true," Emily relented with a sigh. She still looked frightened, even though the blonde could tell she was trying to hide it.

"Look, it'll be fine. Come on," Ali said. She reached out and gently wrapped her hand around Emily's wrist, guiding her forward. "We'll stick together."

The first thing Alison noticed about the room on the other side of the door was that it was dim. The lighting was low, but there was enough of it to illuminate a gigantic ballroom. Half of it was filled with large, round tables with perfectly white cloths and candles as centerpieces. The wall of windows on the opposite side of the room was mostly opaque and painted over, only allowing in light in small pieces that reflected and danced around the ballroom in lovely, colorful patterns.

She could see a bar in the far corner, though it was nearly blocked by the sheer amount of people. Ridiculously dressed Capitolites of all sizes, shapes, and colors were moving around each other, some bumping into others, some talking, and some screaming over the noise of others' voices. The amount of movement on the room was almost overwhelming, enough to make a person feel dizzy from just watching.

Alison remembered her hand was still around Emily's wrist when she felt the girl shift. She gave her wrist a little squeeze of support and led them around the edges of the crowd. A closer look revealed that there were victors scattered around the crowd. Some were young like Jason and some were old enough for their face to sag with wrinkles, but they all stood out clearly against the Capitol natives.

Bits of loud conversation stung Alison's ears. They were talking about this year's crop of tributes. How ironic that they were too caught up with themselves to notice two tributes hiding in plain sight not ten feet away.

Alison turned to Emily. "These people must be sponsors," she told her, leaning close to the brunette's ear and raising her voice to be heard.

Emily said something back that Alison couldn't quite discern, but it sounded like agreement. After all, everyone here was clearly wealthy. Most of them were flaunting giant gold jewelry and pocket watches like her freak escort had. This was where mentors came to socialize with potential sponsors and make transactions.

The atmosphere of the place suddenly switched from overwhelming to a complete letdown. Alison wasn't sure what she'd been expecting. The most impressive part of the mystery floor was the design of the ballroom. As far as she could tell, there was no huge, juicy secret that tributes needed to be shielded from. No apparent explanation for Jason's moodiness. Maybe it was morphling withdrawal, or him deciding to be stupidly cryptic for no reason.

Alison wasn't satisfied. With this many people in one place, there had to be some type of scandal she could sink her teeth into.

Emily nudged her shoulder and pointed to a screen mounted over the bar. Alison had to squint to make the fuzzy shapes focus into pictures of the twenty-four tributes. Next to each picture were letters far too blurry to read.

The girls gave each other a silent nod before slinking in between spaces in the crowd to get a closer look. Ali was grateful when they were able to make it to a less crowded space. Hundreds of voices weren't pounding against her ears and it was finally possible to speak without her words fading into the clamor.

"It's a betting board," Alison announced when they were close enough to see properly. The words next to each picture were actually numbers designating odds from most to least likely to win. Every few seconds, the electronic numbers would flicker, changing slightly, but for the most part, the order remained constant. Ali's eyes were immediately drawn to her own picture.

"You're near the top," Emily said, voicing what Alison had already noticed. Sure enough, she was only three from the top, along with the other tributes from districts one and two. The dark-skinned boy from one who Noel had so graciously arranged an alliance with was secure in the top spot as predicted victor.

The odds weren't bad, but Alison couldn't relax knowing they weren't completely in her favor. Would she be able to overpower the tributes from one in a physical fight? A sinking feeling went through her and she decided she was better off not dwelling on what she knew wouldn't end well.

Emily's picture was a bit further down, situated firmly in the upper-middle area of the line-up. Being from district four gave her an advantage, but everyone knew the middle ground of the odds was nothing to get excited about, so Alison chose not to comment.

She looked over at Emily, who was still looking up at the board with a quiet intensity. It was hard to gauge whether she was pleased or not. Perhaps it was what she'd expected. She was soft and gentle, but apparently strong enough to not show signs of fear that had to be festering inside.

The wall of windows behind her illuminated the edge of her face and made it look like she was surrounded in a soft halo of light that traced from the curve of her nose down past her chin. There was a peacefulness to how still she was. Watching her made the room seem quiet, when in fact their surroundings were far from it.

"What is it?" Emily asked, shifting just a little to turn toward Alison.

Her question took Alison off guard because she wasn't exactly sure what she had been doing. She straightened her posture like she always did upon being called back from zoning out and looked past the other girl. "I was watching the light," she answered, not untruthfully. Her eyes traced the wall of windows until they reached a door that was propped open.

"You know, we could walk out of here right now," Alison said.

"We wouldn't get very far. We don't quite blend in," Emily replied, motioning to their clothes. Ali looked down at her training outfit and laughed.

"Of course not. We'd have to steal some peacock feathers and face paint. And then we'd have to take on new identities complete with funny names and backstories." Alison paused to consider what type of persona she'd adopt. "I'd be Vivian Darkbloom, fabulous socialite and long-lost relative of a well-to-do politician who happened to leave behind a large sum of inheritance money."

She watched the edges of Emily's mouth tug upward into an amused smile. The other girl cocked an eyebrow at her. "You made all of that up just now? You could write a book or something. It sounds like you have a lot of stories to tell."

It felt good to be complimented; to feel the familiar rush of pride. "Yeah? Maybe I will."

The smile fell off the brunette's face and she looked guarded again. Ali was puzzled by the sudden shift in expression until she felt a hand grab her shoulder from behind.

Crap.

"Look what I found. It's not every year you have the pleasure of getting a hold of tributes before the Hunger Games start."

The voice was deep and throaty. Ali spun around to see just who was speaking. Honestly, she'd expected her brother to pop up and reprimand her, but there was no way this was Jason. Instead, the voice belonged to a large man, probably in his early thirties, with a squarish nose and jaw. There was a roughness to him. He didn't have the same snobby, upper-class look as most of the sponsors.

It took her a minute to realize the words weren't directed at her and Emily, but to another man standing behind him. They looked similar enough to be brothers, with the same bone structure and rough demeanor. The only obvious difference was the second man had a shaved head.

"Don't you know they're not supposed to be here?" the second guy asked the first with a coarse chuckle. "Those are my favorite type of tributes. The ones who aren't afraid to bend the rules."

Alison didn't like the way the stranger was still gripping her shoulder. She shrugged his hand off as casually as possible and looked for a way to take advantage of the situation.

"They don't tell us much about what goes on down here. Care to enlighten us?"

The two men exchanged a look. The one with the hair spoke again. "Hey, you're the one with the brother," he said, not answering her question. "I've seen you on TV before. The years have done you well. You've really filled out in all the right places."

He reached out to touch her again and she stepped back slightly, crossing her arms. Every word they said only painted them as more grimy and disgusting in Ali's eyes. It was nothing she'd never heard before, though, and she would use it to her advantage if she had to.

"So I've been told. You two aren't half bad yourselves," she said, plastering on a fake smile for the sake of appearance. The men exchanged another look. This time their smiles were wide.

"How about we buy you a drink? One for your friend, too," the bald one grinned.

Ali looked back at Emily, who had her arms crossed and a look on her face that made it evident she wasn't playing along with any of this. She pressed her lips into a thin line when the men's eyes raked over her body.

"I'd rather not," Emily said, clearly unamused.

Her turning down the offer only seemed to make the strangers more persistent. They moved closer to the girls' sides, reminding Alison of vultures swooping in and surrounding their prey. She stood up tall and lifted her chin.

"My friend and I have somewhere to be," Alison said carefully, "But I think we can make time for one drink if we get something in return." She ran a hand through her blonde curls and looked at each of the men. Emily was frowning; she could see her at the edge of her vision.

"And what would that be, exactly?" the bald one asked.

"In exchange, you will sponsor both of us in the arena. Alison DiLaurentis from district two and Emily Fields from district four, just so we're clear."

The bald man flexed back and gave a little grunt. "We prefer to use our money after the Games are over," he said. "We find it benefits us more that way."

Alison pursed her lips. "What do you mean by that?" she asked, genuinely curious now.

Both of them laughed in response. "How much do you think she'll sell for?" the one with the hair asked his brother, or friend, whatever their relation was.

Sell? Alison wrinkled her brow. She felt like she was on the verge of digging up the kind of secret she came here in search of, but now she wasn't so sure she wanted to know. The word rubbed her the wrong way and sent a chill up her spine.

"I'd pay for that one," the bald one said, pointing at Emily. "I like them submissive."

"Excuse me?" Alison asked, mouth falling open.

"Not saying I'd ignore you. It's too bad both of you can't win," he chortled. "Now how about that drink?" he asked, wrapping his arm around Ali's waist with unnecessary force.

She was ready to punch him away, or scratch him, or yell out something obnoxious, but for a split second, she was frozen with fear. All it took was that one second for Emily to react.

"Let go of her!" Emily shrieked, prying the man's arm off her waist. "I think that's more than enough. You have no right to talk to us like that and you definitely have no right to lay a hand on her. We'll be leaving now," she snapped, shielding the blonde and pulling her away from the men who were now falling into an obnoxious fit of laughter.

Alison was too stunned to turn back and shout something nasty at the perverts. She kept her focus on Emily as they walked through the noisy crowd in search of the exit. The brunette looked beyond pissed. Her shoulders were moving up and down with deep, angry breaths. It was difficult to get a good look at her face as they moved forward, but Alison was pretty sure she saw tears dotting her eyes.

A lot was on her mind. Between the harassment and what looked to be a disturbing revelation about the Capitol, Alison was surprised she was able to remain clam. Emily looked way more worked up than her, and she suddenly felt the urge to comfort the girl. To thank her for what she'd done.

Ali grabbed for the other girl's hand and laced their fingers together. Any type of skin contact, even if it was just a hand to hold, always made Alison feel safer. She hoped it would have the same effect on Emily.

Just before they walked back through the door they'd entered, Ali looked back out at the ballroom. Past all the people swaying and socializing, along the glass wall, there was a door where people were entering and exiting. The same one Ali joked they could escape through. Some of the Capitolites who were walking out had their arms wrapped around the shoulders of victors.

Alison was wrong. There was no escape. Not for the kids whose hearts would stop in the arena, and not for the ones who managed to survive.

"I shouldn't have made you come," Ali said to the other girl once they were safely out the door, "but I'm glad you did."

Emily was still trembling. She stared down at their intertwined hands silently.

Alison bit her lip, not sure what else to say. The quiet was getting to her. "You didn't have to do that for me," she tried again.

"Yeah, I did," Emily said. As the seconds slipped by, Ali thought that was the extent of the response she was going to get. An escort from some other district walked past them to enter the ballroom, shooting them an accusatory glance while doing so, but she didn't make any comments. Good.

Ali let go of the other girl's hand and let it fall to her side awkwardly. She wished she had a pocket to stick it in.

Emily sighed beside her and spoke up again. "It's not okay for people to treat you that way. Or me. Or anyone. I felt sick just watching them. Really, I should've done a lot more."

"I can't figure you out," Alison said softly.

Emily looked at her, waiting for her to explain, and Alison tried to put into words exactly what she meant. "People don't just do things for others without having a motive. That's not the way the world works. We barely know each other. I don't understand why you care what happens to me," she said, feeling prickly and vulnerable again. They both knew she wasn't only talking about what happened with the two men.

Ali shut her eyes, trying to call to mind what had her so upset over three years ago. What circumstances could have surrounded their meeting that caused the brunette to want to protect her?

"Alison-"

"You can call me Ali."

"Ali," Emily started again, her voice slow and uncertain. The blonde watched the girl's dark brown eyes hold her own for a few seconds before flickering away. "Everyone deserves to have someone to defend them. You deserve that, too. I'm not sure why you feel like you don't."

Warmth spread up her neck and into her face and she felt herself inhale sharply. There was no way she could respond to that. She told herself it wasn't true, anyway. When it came to topics like this, Alison wasn't much better at opening up than her brother was. It would take way too much effort to explain why it wasn't true, and even then, the other girl might not believe her.

Her chest felt tight as she hurried to change the subject to something less invasive but equally important. "I think we would make a good team. Em…can I call you that?" Ali asked. The other girl nodded, so she let herself continue. "Em, do you have any plans for the arena?"

Alison's body was sore by the time she was able to return to the district two suite. A few more hours of training had followed her unplanned excursion with Emily, and Ali had made use of every second of her time, mainly to avoid Noel and his questions.

Unfortunately, there was no escaping him once they were back in the room. Alison already regretted laying on the sofa and stretching her arms. She should've walked straight to her bedroom and stayed there until dinner.

"So, now that Nate and Mona are gone, are you going to tell me what you've been up to?" Noel asked. He propped himself against the back of the sofa and waited for an answer.

"I took a walk around the building. I needed a break," Ali shrugged.

"Yeah, and you took the girl from four with you," he said, looking at her with an expression she couldn't quite read.

"I didn't take her with me, Noel. I happened to see her in the hallway. Why, is there a problem with that?"

"All I'm saying is it looks bad to our allies if you're off doing God knows what with people from other districts."

"I'll keep that in mind," Alison said, turning away from Noel and grabbing for the remote.

Noel kept talking. Of course. "That girl, Emily, I mean. Do you remember her from when she lived in two?"

"Not particularly. She seemed vaguely familiar when I saw her at the tribute parade."

"Then you're going to want to hear this," Noel said, blue eyes shining the way they always did when he was about to share a piece of gossip. Ali and Noel were similar in that way. She wondered if the similarity was the reason they didn't get along all that well.

Still, she was interested in what he had to say. She waited patiently as Noel jumped over the sofa to sit by her. "Okay, well I didn't know her all that well either, but there were some rumors about this girl."

"Go on," Ali said.

"My friend Eric heard she plays for the other team. Apparently, she had this huge crush on you. I heard she used to watch you in class and draw hearts in her notebook and stuff. It must be pretty weird hanging out with her."

"I didn't know that," Ali said, considering the information. It could make sense and potentially explain why she acted the way she did. Alison felt her heart jump and she wondered if she was a narcissist for hoping it was true. It always felt good when people admired her. It gave her a rush and made her feel like she was special, like she mattered, but there was something different here.

Maybe it was because it meant she would be safer siding with Emily in the arena. Or that there was a solid explanation for her protecting Ali earlier. Maybe both of those reasons, but neither felt right, and Ali had no intention of using Emily's secret against her. She didn't deserve that.

Her thoughts of the pretty brunette were stopped from going any further when Noel added his own comment. "It's weird, unless you two were sneaking off to make out. In that case, you should invite me next time so I can watch."

"What is wrong with you?"Ali groaned, cutting him off from saying anything else by turning on the TV and blaring the volume.

She stared blankly at the TV, thinking of Emily and what they'd encountered on the mystery floor. The thoughts gave way to wondering about Jason and all the skeletons that must accumulate in every victor's closet.

It felt like an eternity had passed since she'd gotten called at the reaping a few days ago. Nothing about what she'd experienced so far had been pleasant, but she wouldn't mind living through this routine a while longer. Mostly because she wasn't ready to face the Games, and after what she'd seen today, she wasn't sure she wanted to be part of what would come after.