Originally written for and uploaded on Fourteen, another 24 author collab that was the sequel to Thirteen, on Jakey121's account but was unfortunately deleted due to being unfinished.

The song for this chapter is one of the inspirations for Magic's character development into a more confident person. This chapter was quite a challenge to write so I was also writing about several other tributes not of my own creation. If Magic had not died in the bloodbath, which was sad although rather fitting to his character, I would have had him be a rather miraculous winner, showing some new-found determination and confidence, as well as some mercy for Dakota Phillips.

'It doesn't solve a thing to dress it in a pretty gown'

Two years ago I made a perfect dress.

The colour had been my favourite-a luscious deep shade of blue. The flowing bottom hem had reached just below the knees, so as to give to wearer modesty but to allow some liberty for the legs, yet was still mildly alluring. The hem of the neck was lined with the finest silver gems I could scrape up in our miserable district. There were sleeves, though they were thin enough that they barely hung on the shoulders but kept it all in place. The pattern was simplistic yet pure. The material, a fine silk that left behind the softest touch.

Shawvelly had been the first one the model it for me. I had chosen her specifically because of her big, bright blue eyes that accented the dress. Both she and the dress were so beautiful. That dress had somewhat steeled both my love of fashion and my confidence. Back then I only used to stutter a little.

Look at me now.

I'm having to lean against the wall just keep my frail body stood up for so long. Every few minutes or so I blank for a few seconds and forget where I am, but then I'm reminded by the swift, swishing fabrics that flow towards the stage. Of course, I then remember, I'm at the interviews. Chariots and training are all done and dusted, and dear Lord were they a disaster! Having to bare my chest and cover myself with nothing more than a silk pair of shorts and a pair of overly large angel wings which knocked at my head at every little bump. Embarrassing to say the least (considering I'm not the most muscled boy you could meet). I must have tripped over at least three times during training as well, which did not help my reputation.

No wait, I tripped four times. Some career tripped me up the fourth. To them I must be nothing more than dead meat.

Ugh, dead meat. I'm so hungry…I've never been hungrier, but yet I'm too sick to eat. Not that I can eat at a time like this. Not that I have been able to eat much here anyway; Dakota gets all the good food.

Damn bitch…

Oh dear, I hope I didn't say that out loud! Dakota's in front of me, checking out her reflection in the shiny spots in the wall. I swear she's like a narcissistic magpie. If I could I'd kick her. Only if I could, but my legs are locked in place. Why the hell is everyone so calm about this? No-one seems to care that it's time to show our faces off to the people.

The people…no wonder I've been fearing this moment. My biggest fear has always been people. To have every single eye on you, every single one of them judging me. Going through this kind of thing in normal life, maybe I've just been paranoid, but here it's for real. Every single second spent in the capitol I've had eyes locked on my movements.

Hmm, well maybe not all. After all I'm hardly the most interesting person. Frail body, can barely say a word and a wounded ankle. Well, not so much wounded as it was. I twirl my foot for a second. The pain has been severely reduced and running is no longer an impossible task (whether I can reach the high speeds I used to is still questionable). I haven't even made any allies, but I really don't help myself in that area. I did get an offer from the nice pair from nine at lunch, but I freaked out and ducked under the table. Not my best moment but it's not one of my worst either strangely enough.

"That was Quintus everybody!"

Huh? Oh, the career lot must be done then. Quintus is sauntering so elegantly by, sneering at a few of the others as he does so. He must have racked up enough of a threat against them already but he still insists on being scary. He must have no cares in the world, which makes me wonder just how much of their soul those trainers drive out back home. Soulless monsters. I mustn't make eye contact; he won't get to me.

Just look down, keep looking.

Footsteps are shuffling closer. Soft ones.

Keep looking down.

Before I know it I'm met with two bright orbs of blue and instantly I recoil and slam into the wall. He just laughs and continues on his way. The rest of the tributes can't even focus on the threat of Quintus because their laughter is all directed towards me! Most are laughing, and from a distance I think I hear the careers laughing too from back somewhere (or maybe it's all in my mind, who knows? I am paranoid after all). Nasty, condescending laughter. They're all just glad to have someone else that's suffering, and right now I'm the one suffering the worst. I can't even leave to get away from this; a peacekeeper will just drag me back to my place in line. For some stupid reason I look to Dakota to try and gain some sympathy. After all, she is my district partner so she and I must have developed some sort of bond by now, right?

Wrong. As expected the bitch is laughing too, in that high pitched irritating way she did when we first met. No surprises there, not now that she's in league with him, and the rest of them. Right now I just want to crawl into a deep dark hole and die. It's useless. I've done nothing to prove myself; the best I've done is paint a big fat target on my head for everyone else to see. Come the countdown I'll probably fall off my pedestal first and be blown to pieces. They'll probably laugh then too.

Oh look! Magic the Klutz tripped up again!

Aww damn it, he was my kill!

Who cares, ignore him and focus of the more important targets.

Sigh, story of my life.

"You saw her light up the chariots, now she'll light up the stage-it's the radiant Rima Vertes!"

Everyone's focus is diverted back to the interviews again. Good, I need some time to recollect myself. Who am I kidding, I'll never return to a normal state of calmness after this experience. I'll die first.

Rima seems to have made her way on stage quickly enough. Mostly likely she wants to get this over and done with quickly. She looks so gorgeous, adorned with a spaghetti strapped red dress falling to her knees, and elaborate pinned up hairstyle with only little makeup that truly let's her 'radiance' shine through. It's so unlike the cold, withdrawn girl that gave me nasty looks during training. She takes time to sit herself down, hands on her knees and a smile spread across her dainty face. A few of the women 'aww' and 'sigh'.

"So Rima, you're certainly looking perky today" Jokle announces.

"Well, I'm just loving my pretty new dress!" she replies, giggles following up. Cue the 'awws' and 'sighs' again.

"Well, you look pretty yourself, doesn't she folks?"

Cheers ensue immediately. Rima smiles sweetly and giggles.

"Aww you're too kind"

"Alright then, so how has your time been in the capitol?" he asks her softly.

"Oh it's been wonderful! My room is so beautifully decorated, the meals are delicious and the people here have been so kind!" she gushes out almost immediately. But just for a second there, I see a small glint in her eyes. A small glint that looks as though she doesn't believe her own words.

"And how about outside of your room?"

She falters for a bit but the smile returns. Why is she trying so hard?

"That's been okay, but…"

Jokle shifts a little closer and puts on an empathetic (or sympathetic?) face.

"But…?"

"I guess…I'm a little sad over my score" Rima mutters, shuffling her feet with eyes directed at the floor.

And of course. She's playing up the sympathy act. For someone young like her that's probably a smart way to go about it.

"Ah yes, a five" Jokle sighs "well, you listen to me Rima. That score does not matter, remember that you're strong and I'm sure you'll be fine, you can do this!

There's that little glint again. This time it's not disbelieving; quite the opposite actually.

"And if she has trouble I'm we can all help her out, can't we folks!"

Screams of 'yes' echo down to the back of the hall and back. That's not comforting. Not at all. Just how many people are there?

And again the buzzer rings, to which Rima stands up and delicately saunters her way back.

There's barely a break before Jokle stands back up again and announces:

"Please welcome ladies and gentleman the charming Ryan Jenkins!"

Ryan appears very suddenly on stage in a flash of shining silver, so quickly even that Jokle is a little startled. The audience however are cheering the whole time. He sits down on the chair without a word leg crossed and hands placed together on his knee, back straight and poised. After a second Jokle proceeds to do the same.

"What an exquisite outfit you've got on there, matches that beautifully crafted on your wrist"

Ryan warmly smiles at Jokle, fiddling with the bracelet a little.

"Why yes, I believe that's the look my stylist was aiming for, which I do like myself"

Ryan's right, it is a beautiful suit.

"Aside from the kind treatment from your stylist, how have everyone treated you?"

"Perfectly fine"

"Even the training staff?"

"Most helpful?"

"Really? Have they helped you develop a working strategy yet"

Ryan does not seem to answer straight away. Clever move. A smirk begins to form on his face and he taps his nose.

"Well, I may have tricks, I may have plans. Maybe you'll just need to wait and see" he shoots back at Jokle, but still with the utmost respect. I'm beginning to admire his confidence.

"Alright then, so how about your normal life? You've enjoyed the capitol lifestyle but how about back home? Anyone you miss?" He utters with a content face. Ryan's does not seem to be quite so content however. This question seems to have shocked him somehow. He is definitely hiding something. Only question is will he keep it hidden? There are a few audience members visible in the front seats whose faces have twisted to (false?) concern. A few seconds pass but he finally comes back with an answer.

"Oh, I'm sorry! That's all fine but I was just intrigued by who did your hair? It truly suits you"

Nice move Ryan. Really. There's no need to tell these uncaring people your troubles anyway. There's no need to show your weaknesses. Keep the strength and respect you still have.

Jokle is looking very flattered but before he can sputter an answer the buzzer rings back through the hallway.

"Well, it's a shame that was cut short but I hope you all enjoyed seeing district five's Ryan Jenkins!"

Once Ryan leaves the loud cheers and the stage Jokle soon begins to announce the next tribute.

"Now for district six's little sweetheart, Greylyn Conway!"

"W-wow!"

I don't mean to speak but she looks so adorable! Not just adorable but….innocent. At least I feel that's what her stylist must have been aiming for because the young Greylyn has been clothed in a white lace dress and light makeup. A green ribbon holds the hair out of her eyes and matches her green pumps. Like with Rima many of the audience members 'aww' over her sheer cuteness. The dress wraps perfectly around her legs as she sits down. Jokle shakes her hands and she sits back, pauses, and then arches her back up slightly so her posture is perfect. She actually makes it look comfortable.

"Wow, it's so exciting to have the mayor's daughter with us"

She sits up straight before answering.

"Well, I feel excited to be here with you Jokle" she responds so politely, but that still doesn't mask the childlike tone of her voice. How sad.

"How have the people here been treating you? Much like home? Maybe better or even worse?" Jokle bombards at Greylyn.

"Well, it's difficult to say, how do the people here usually treat you?" she responds. Jokle is a little stunned but waves it of easily.

"Well, you can imagine very well. After all I have a high ranking job, much like your father"

There's a pause where Jokle is obviously waiting to see if Greylyn has a response. Seeing that she doesn't he coughs and continues.

"How are you mother and father? Still living the good life back in district six?"

Her fingers twitch. She's slightly nervous, yet no-one else notices.

"Very nice, you should visit sometime. Would you like that?"

A strange question and slightly off topic. Maybe that's what she is aiming for. Jokle laughs a little but grins.

"Tell you what dear, if you can soldier on and win the games I promise I will visit as a congratulations gift"

She nods and smiles.

"Do you think you can win?" He asks, shifting closer. That's a little awkward but she doesn't seem fazed in the slightest. If that were me I'd be freaking out intensely by now. Just looking at him makes my legs quiver. I can't believe a twelve year old is taking this more calmly than I am.

"Well, what do you think?" she asks, but not rudely. Jokle grins widely at her response.

"I think you'll be just fine"

And there rings the buzzer once again. Greylyn is lifted out of her seat by Jokle's hand, hair bobbing and dress swishing.

"District six's Greylyn everybody!"

She gives a little courtesy to the crowd which earns a few more cheer and whistles. As she walks by me all I can focus on is her pure white dress. My favourite colour. It's so calming. Makes me forget about my stupid clumsy feet.

"Can he rise from the ashes? Please welcome Phoenix Witter!"

Jokle's obnoxiously loud voice breaks me back out of my trance. Once I come to I see Phoenix awkwardly stumbling on stage, fiddling with the bow tie and brushing off any dust on his lush burgundy suit. He flops down into the chair and Jokle joins him. He flashes a smile to try and relax him, but Phoenix still seems rather uncomfortable. He's such a contrast to his district partner.

"H-hi" he mutters, obviously trying to make conversation. His eyes are firmly directed upwards, flicking back between Jokle and the crowd. Another blatant attempt, but this time to hide weakness. I wonder if the careers have picked up on this? I would not be surprised.

"You seem a little tense Phoenix, has anything during your time here been bothering you"

His head snaps back to Jokle.

"No, nothing. I'm just…anticipating my moves for the arena, my plan and all that…yeah" he spills out rather rapidly, his arms a bit jerky whilst he does so. Poor boy; I can feel his pain.

"Your moves? Do you have something interesting planned then?" Jokle says, obviously trying to hide a few chuckles as he does so. It seems to me that he's not taking Phoenix seriously. It seems some of the audience feel the same way, smiles twitching badly.

Phoenix clenches his fists and holds them close to his chest.

"Yes! Great moves! Powerful moves! The other tributes won't know what's hit them!"

I'm not sure he knows the meaning of 'less is more'. He's trying far too hard to be serious and strong but in all honestly he just looks silly. At least the other tributes are laughing at him now and not me.

"Even those oh so great tributes like Cassiterite and Quintus won't be able to stop me!"

Huge mistake. Maybe he should be worrying about dying first and not me. Jokle's still laughing his head off but he wipes away the tears so he can continue.

"Well at least you seem confident enough; I guess that's a good sign!"

"Y-yeah!" Phoenix stutters, head shaking nervously.

"I bet your family is so proud of you right now!"

Phoenix nearly jumps out of his seat at this comment. Clearly not a topic he wishes to discuss because his only a response is a nod of the head before the buzzer rings. He immediately shoots out of his seat and awkwardly wanders back off stage.

"Um, Phoenix everyone!"

As he paces past the rest of us I almost feel sorry for him. But then again, he was also laughing at me earlier so he's just another spiteful person that shouldn't have pity taken on them.

"Now for the for district seven's daring little Kilea Fairbane"

She's…gorgeous. She's dressed entirely in green (a reflection of the nature that adorns district seven? If so then very clever). Her ball gown dress is a pale shade of green with matching but sparkling emerald heels. Peridot adorns her ears and the curve of her neck. Just so these details don't go to waste, her hair is piled neatly atop her head, held in place with an encrusted headband. It's a breath-taking piece. Almost like that dress I sold to…wait I sold it to Dakota!? It would've looked so much better on Kilea.

She sits down so carefully on the chair so as not to crease the dress. Her hands are resting on one another though they constantly keep moving and twiddling. Somehow I can already imagine what Jokle is going to say to her first.

'So, a volunteer from district seven? How unusual'

"So, a volunteer from district seven? How unusual"

And thus I am a mindreader. Sigh, if only.

Kilea keeps a sweet face, but isn't letting anything on with it.

"So do tell Kilea, what are your reasons for bravely volunteering?"

Much of the audience are literally on the edge of their seats. She keeps up her calm face but keeps twiddling her fingers, which to me seems like a nervous habit.

"Since you asked nicely I will explain. My friends and I back home do love to have a bit of fun. Truth and Dare is one of our favourite games to play. It was Johnny's turn and well…his dare was to volunteer"

What a stupid thing to do! This is exactly the reason not to trust other people. Why would you trust someone who would suggest sending you away to your death? Jokle does not seem to feel the same way because he's riling the crowds into masses of cheers.

"Isn't that incredible folks? A true act of bravery and strength I'd say!"

She simply blushes at his comment and smiles.

"Oh thank you"

"I must ask you though, this Johnny boy-did you happen to go through with his dare because you like him?" Jokle asks of her coyly. She immediately blushes and shakes her head, all the while her hands still twiddling.

"Aww how cute. So Kilea, aside from this extraordinary determination do you feel you now have the skills you need to win these games!"

"Of course I do! I don't want to underestimated by anyone. Don't think I didn't volunteer without a second thought!"

The cheers of the crowd continue on until the buzzer rings. Kilea gets up quickly but flashes a sweet smile before making her way back, not giving Jokle a chance to say anymore. For once I want to talk. I want to compliment her in that dress. The clickety clack of her heels are coming down the hallway. If I don't speak now she'll be gone.

"Y-you're d-d-dress is b-beautiful"

The clacking stops. Right next to me. I don't look her in the eyes but a soft voice answers.

"Thank you um…Magic is it?"

I nod, still not looking up to her.

"Well, I love your suit too" is all I hear. No sarcasm. Just honesty laced her voice. Could it be…a light in this dark place?

Sadly by the time I look up she's already gone and Jokle has begun announcing the next tribute.

"Now please welcome on stage district seven's Tyrion Pond!"

Here's a little pick-me-up for now I guess. He may be dressed up elegantly-A black tuxedo with violet stripes, black bow tie, squeaky clean black shoes and glossed black hair-but nothing hides the Tyrion that I've seen. He's a little rough around the edges, and rather muscled but with his long dark hair, pale skin and handsome faces he's almost irresistible to both girls and guys. If I didn't have this stupid stutter I'd have talked to him a long time ago; I wouldn't have minded an ally like him. Or his partner Kilea for that matter. Tyrion takes his place but he definitely doesn't look comfortable. For one his feet are shifting a lot, much like Kilea shifted her hands and he keeps blinking as well. I understand exactly how he feels.

Jokle opens his mouth to speak but somehow Tyrion beats him to it.

"N-nice weatha, uh weather you have here. Back home i-it usually just rains, here it snows-indoors! What's up with that?" he manages to sputter. I can't even look it's that awkward. It sounds like that was his failed attempt at a joke. Three or four of the of the audience members chuckle weakly though I think it's more out of pity than humour. Jokle thankfully breaks the awkward silence for all of us (thankfully).

"So it rains a lot back home then? It must be wonderful to get away from that for a while"

"Y-yeah, at least it's warm and sunny here, less trees to chop" A blush creeps up his cheeks, I'd say out of embarrassment. I should know.

"So you were a lumberjack then? Does it make for a good living?"

"Well, sort of. It gets you by day after day. It's actually kind of nice not to have to work actually" Tyrion says, his tone more relaxed than it was. His eyes are still avoiding the lights and his feet are continuing to shuffle.

"Sounds great enough, doesn't beat interviewing though!" Jokle comments arrogantly.

"Heh, maybe I should get that job, I might learn to be funny then"

A few more people actually laugh this time. Jokle too.

"No, I think physical labour suits you better. After all look at those muscles!" Jokle announces, grabbing Tyrion's arm and yanking it into the air. He takes a hint and stands up, then flexes them to the crowd. There's a massive roar of cheers and whistles from ladies (they're not the only ones getting a good view though). Tyrion shortly sits back down and relaxes into the chair.

"With muscles like that you must attract the ladies back home! Tell me do you have anyone back home?"

The calm look on his faces suddenly fades. Tyrion goes back to shifting his feet.

"Well, there's no girl but there is one person back at home" He mumbles. He's not suggesting what I think he's suggesting…

"Oh, who?"

"Just somebody"

The timing is well placed as the buzzer rings.

"Well then, never mind that. Let us bid farewell to Tyrion!"

He looks to the ground as he leaves. I wish I could comfort him. I wish I could talk to him like Kilea, but I've never been able to talk to boys as easily as girls. So I just let him slink by sadly.

OUCH!

Dakota just kicked me in the ankle!

What the freaking hell!?

"Watch how a professional does it, bitch" she shoots at me. She's calling me a bitch?

"You all know her sister but now she takes the spotlight, please welcome Dakota Phillips!"

She takes a deep breath and relxes her shoulder before elegantly gliding on stage slowly, letting her red high heels tap in time. I hate her with a passion but she is nearly beautiful. Our stylist went all out on her. I though Kilea's outfit was gorgeous but this tops it. Her dress definitely goes with the 'sexy' them. It's backless and sleeveless and tight fitting which really compliments her ample figure. It's dark red but somewhat translucent, and I know I'm not the only male that's got their eyes on her right now. My only criticism is that her face is absolutely coated in makeup. For once I'd like to see her face. Her hair is in a neat tied up bun but with a rogue little hair fallen out of place. It's funny; I swear our stylist was far too obsessed with neat hair. Was the rogue hair her own choice?

Jokle stand up and extends his hand to help her to her seat. She happily seems to take it and giggles.

"Oh you boys!"

"Just being a gentleman, ma'am" He says, bowing in her presence. It's sickening to watch.

"My my Dakota, your dress is just lovely! Your stylist must have known exactly what to do with you".

Pervert.

"Well, I guess you could say I helped a little?" she remarks almost coyly, winking at the interviewer. Is there anything she won't do?

"Did you ever have any outfits this nice back in district eight?"

"Well, there was this one dress, it was green with an open back like this one" she comments, her delicate finger resting on her chin in though.

That was my dress.

"But I can't remember where I got it!" she exclaims with a high pitched squeal.

I feel like someone I;ve just fallen off my pedestal. I'm not going to blow up am I?

Looking around, no. Nope. I'm still here.

"Well, what a shame. Asides from your beauty let's discuss your other talents. A six is an interesting score, how did you manage it?" Dakota giggles and (slowly) crosses her leg over the other.

"Well, I have my 'ways'" she says with another wink.

"I imagine so" Jokle remarks, his eyes trailing over to her. Honestly…

"I imagine you mustn't be short of allies"

"Who wouldn't want to ally with me?" Dakota exclaims sweetly, putting her finger to her lips innocently. The crowd engages in cheers once again.

"A beautiful girl like you, did you have anyone back home?"

I saw that. Her eyes flicked. That's her weak point; I've heard she slept around back home so any talk of 'real love' probably hammers his confidence.

But then she regains her smirk.

"Well, I'll leave that thought with you"

Jokle looks a little flushed. The buzzer plays out again.

"What a shame folks, but for now we'll have to say goodbye to the remarkable beauty that is Dakota Phillips!"

And that's it. Flawless.

Even the way she glides seamlessly by is enchanting. It'll be a miracle if anyone can surpass her perfect acting, let alone myself. But it looks like I'll have to try. This is my very last chance to make a good name for myself lest I end up a splat of blood on the pedestal.

I've got to try.

Alright deep breaths, slowly. My chest is rising and falling gently enough. Good, I'm in a calm state. Jokle is standing up. The peacekeepers are at the ready, and the audience are on the edge of their seats.

"Now welcome on stage district eight's own fashion fanatic, Magic Ayerzuela!"

.

..

…

Everyone's staring at me again. I'm not moving. I refuse to budge. I can hear Jokle coughing on stage and announcing again:

"Um, district eight's very own Magic!"

But it's no more than an echo. There's too noise drowning it all out. I can't do this, I just can't.

Something roughly breaks my blank state as a pain grips my arm and shoves me forward. I'm about the scream, I try to pull back but in a flash the scenery changes to a lush, elegant setting. Two golden velvet chairs are just slightly across from me; one of them is occupied. It seems very gorgeous, however as I turn my head to my side it seems I've met my worst nightmare.

Eyes. So many eyes. They're all looking straight at me. Straight at my soul.

So many…hundreds, thousands, millions with the cameras.

Oh god. Please oh please just get me away from here. Anywhere, just kill me now. I can't handle this, I just can't. My breathing is picking up rapidly. I'll hyperventilate if I don't stop. Please let me be…

"Aww, isn't that cute folks? He's a bit shy"

The massive audience start awing over me and cheering. I hate them all but…they find me cute. Cute…cute tributes sometimes get sponsors.

Jokle is gesturing me to come over. That's right, my interview. Guess I know what angle I'll be playing up. I've got to be brave now. I've got to calm down and do this. Right, just a few steps, that's all it takes. Lord, my knees are buckling so badly but slowly I get there and collapse onto the soft couch. Beside me Jokle shifts so he's facing me. I'm still looking at my feet however; they're the only things in the world right now that aren't scary. Though they should be, after all they're the ones that could cause me to trip up. Sigh, I'd better look at him.

Big mistake. His hair is green! Bright green! And his skin, so pale like a ghost! Eyes a weird shade of purple and markings that are almost clown like! Ugh, and not to mention HIS HIDEOUS FASHION SENSE! Ruffles and lace! Oh I can't handle this…

"So Magic, how are you finding the capitol?"

"Y-you're hair i-is h-hideous"

Trip. Splat. Bang. Dead.

I've really done it now; I've just insulted the interviewer! Who wants to sponsor a rude boy like that! I'd be surprised if Jokle even wants to continue.

…Well that's if he'd stop laughing.

Laughing? Why?

"Oh Magic, I should have expected that from you!"

I'm baffled. I truly am. All I can manage is a

"W-wha?"

He grins.

"I've been talking to your stylist, he's been telling me about you and your fashion criticisms. So you're quite the little fashionista then?"

He's really working with me here. He's actually talking about one of the few things I'm comfortable with.

"H-huh? Oh, y-yes, I'm a f-fashion d-d-designer m-myself. I-I sell c-clothes b-b-back home"

I know I'm still stuttering but I'm trying my hardest now to be as lucid as possible. It's strange; somehow I feel the stuttering is just from habit now.

"Interesting, did you make a lot of money out of it?"

"Y-yes, I e-even sold one t-t-to Dakota"

She's going to kill me for that one.

"a-after all I had f-family and f-friends to care for"

He smiles warmly at me but then puts on some sort of sympathetic face. He moves a tad closer. What is he aiming at here?

"You must worried about them right now, without you running your little business back home"

I never thought about that. I thought about Shawvelly crying. I thought about my ill parents briefly. I thought about Islera's innocence and Chantelle's good mannered nature.

I never thought about if they'd suffer. If I'm not there what will happen? Before I never considered myself to the utmost importance. That's why I have these scars. Each one a mark of pain inflicted by others. Was I really that important to them?

If I'm not there, who will care for my parents? I'm their only child and the only one that brings back food. If I'm not there will they die?

And what about the girls. Islera has a huge family yet she's never known anyone that's been reaped (and killed). She's too innocent; if I die will she be bereaved of that? Broken down forever?

Same with Chantelle. Maybe not quite the same, as she lost her brother only 3 years ago, but after having rebuilt herself back up from that will she just lose it all completely?

Shawvelly…I've been pondering her much these past few days. The tears…she was the only one who cried. She cared much more than I thought. Just maybe…did she love me? Strong Shaw with the soul of steel? Shaw with the big blue eyes, long hair, perfectly built body…

Oh god I think I'm in love.

"Magic?"

ACK! Everything flashes back to reality. Oh right, Jokle is awaiting an answer.

Will they be okay?

"Th-they won't h-have t-to suffer f-f-for long"

He looks intrigued. Wonderful.

"And why is that?"

"B-because I'm going to win!"

The cheers are like music to my ears. All of them, they love me. Jokle is just roaring them on too. I didn't even mean to say that; it just slipped out. What a brilliant mistake. Screw dying in the bloodbath; death will not claim me just yet.

Sigh, it's all amazing but it's still not something I can easily handle so I just shrink back into the comfortable chair and look down, my cheeks burning brightly. After a couple of minutes Jokle quietens them down with a simple flourish of his hand and turns back to me. I snap my head up but it must be evident I'm still blushing.

"Such confidence! My my, you have really changed from the boy I watched in the reaping, do you have any last words before we unfortunately have to let you go?"

It's true. I have changed.

For the better.

"Y-yes, t-to the tributes"

"Oh, a challenge?"

I smile sweetly and direct my face so my eyes are locked on the cameras.

"Y-yes, i-if they want me, th-they'll have to c-catch me first!"

Another chorus of cheers. A buzzer rings over the incessant noise, which I take as my cue to stand.

"Once again folks, the fighting fashionista-Magic Ayerzuela"

Hmm, I quite like that title. I need no cue to tell me it's time to leave the stage, almost running as I do so. The elegance fades back to the clean white walls of the hallway. The once laughing faces of my peers no longer see me as a bloodbath (I hope, at least they don't look as amused). Tabitha and Nile are clapping. Clapping!

"That was totally hardcore man!" Nile yells (far too loudly) in my ear, wrapping an arm round my shoulder "Come on, we're gonna celebrate-Tabs! Get the drinks!"

I'm not really a fan of alcohol but I guess today will be an exception.

Though in fairness, this whole day has been exceptional.

'It's whatever makes you see, makes you believe

And forget about the premonition you need to conceive'

~Illusion And Dream by Poets Of The Fall~