Synopsis: In the 74th Hunger Games, Clove wasn't picked as the tribute for District Two; instead, a local girl named Rylin was selected. Sharp, manipulative and dead set on winning, Rylin believes she has what it takes to beat anybody out-including fellow tribute Cato. But as she grows closer to the careers over their time in and out of the arena, will she be able to turn on them to win in the end?

THIS CHAPTER RATED M FOR MATURE THEMES. Don't say I didn't warn you…

A/N: Again, sorry for the wait! Lifes been super crazy and might get crazier….I know this cut off probably where some of you would like to see more, but I didn't think I could handle writing the entire thing….yet ;) Although I do have to admit, writing from Rylin's P.O.V. in this state was fairly entertaining (: Hope you enjoy this chapter!

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I never really imagined that my last day before being thrown into the games would be like this. I suppose I was expecting something like before I left for the Capitol-a warm moment, sitting there with my family, promising I would do my best. A moment like that just makes you so confident in yourself and fuels you for a battle-making you remember what you're leaving behind. The memory of this was still fresh in my mind; I could almost feel the pressure in my lap as my younger brother clambered up and draped something around my neck-the necklace I wore now. It was on a delicate silver chain, a dream catcher made with different colors of wire. Two different colored feathers hung down from it, crafted from silver and painted-one a pale blue, the other a bright green. It was cool against my hot skin, and as my free hand went up and traced along the outer circle of the dream catcher, I felt almost as if I was back home once more.

Transferring that moment to the Capitol, I expected something such as a giant feast…maybe some time with our mentors. A quiet night, perhaps reminiscing over the past week, but by no means sad.

What I wasn't expecting was to be sitting in the room I am currently in, on the overstuffed couch I was currently on, sprawled out with glass in hand. My feet dangled over the arm rest, and three pillows were piled up behind my head. I swirled the contents of my glass, watching as the dark liquid spun in a circle before coming to a stop. I raised the glass to my lips, allowing the tart taste to take over before I swallowed it; it left a bit of a burning sensation in my throat, but it quickly subsided and became nonexistent.

I looked up as my companion spoke, his bright blue eyes twinkling merrily in the light. "What; have you been doing this your entire life? You seem to be handling yourself pretty well," he commented, a sly smirk pulling at the corners of his mouth.

"Hey! Don't mock me," I growled, knowing that his words weren't the least bit sincere. I wasn't acting ridiculous or anything of the sort, but think of it this way: My small frame, my lean muscle…do you really think I'd be able to handle much alcohol? Apparently, the answer was no. The bottle split between us was nearly empty, and I was definitely worse for the wear. Cato? He didn't seem even mildly affected at all.

However, I was still my same old self. The only difference was occasionally one or two of my words slurred a bit, and I wasn't as…guarded about what I said. This became apparent in our previous conversation which had to do with the others in the arena.

Now though, I straightened and made my way over to the table. I snatched one of the bottles away, and teetered back over to a chair. I plopped back into it beside my fellow tribute, popping off the top and waving the battle in front of him. "Want some?" I asked, before tilting the bottle to my lips and ingesting some. Immediately, I pulled back and made a face. "Ew, that tastes terrible!"

Sighing a bit, Cato brushed it away; a bit from the previous bottle still rested in his cup. I recapped the one I currently held, having a feeling even the one empty container would evoke a sharp response from Kelvin as well as our escort.

Silence prevailed for a moment, which was odd when the two of us were paired together. Usually we're bickering back and forth, or making snide comments about one thing or the other. The quiet just feels….off.

Finally, I can't take it anymore, and I have to talk. "So, uh…tomorrow. Are you ready for that?"

Something shifts in his face, and as Cato brings his eyes up to mine I can see they are solid and steady, as are his words. "What do you think? I've been trained all my life for this."

"Yeah, well….so have I!" I told him, watching as he shook his head. His eyes turned to the sparkling lights of the city just outside the window. "Well, there's one difference. I'm ready to win."

A spark of indignance growing in me, I made a face and addressed his comment. "What's that supposed to mean, exactly?"

Without looking at me, he weaves out an easy answer. "You act like you're prepared for this, but it's all a show, isn't it? You aren't ready to fight in there at all."

Spot on.

I noticed his voice sounded superior when he said this, as if he thought his rock hard determination beat out my hesitance. Scoffing a bit, I shook my head. "What gives you that idea?"

Now, his head turns and his eyes address me. "I've seen you during training. You're tough and all, but sometimes you get this zoned out look. Like you're scared…sort of like an animal right before it gets taken down."

This sounds mildly like an insult to my ears. But instead of lashing out as I normally would-perhaps due to my slightly intoxicated stage-I snicker some and smirk devilishly. This alarms him, and he raises an eyebrow. In response to his questioning look, I clasp my hands together and stretch my arms above my head. "What, have you been spying on me during practice or something?"

"No, I-"

"Aw, little Cato is worried I'm too much of a threat and he has to watch me to see what I'm capable of!"

"That's not it at all…."

"Soooo worried…"

"Rylin, really, don't be ridiculous…."

I can see the annoyance beginning to show on his face, but that doesn't stop me. Instead of quieting, I stand up and stretch, grateful I had changed into a pair of sweatpants and a tank top instead of staying in that stuffy dress. "Is that why you wanted to be allies, 'cause you were scared to be my enemy?"

I see the muscles in his jaw clench and giggle, even though really it's no laughing matter.

"I'm going to bed," he grumbles, rising from his seat and beginning to turn in his room's general direction.

"Aw, don't be like that…" I start, slipping through the door behind him before he can close it on me. "I mean, really, you should have just admitted it in the beginning!"

"Rylin, get out."

"No!"

"Now!"

"Why?"

"Or else!"

"Or else, what?" I challenge, sliding up next to him as he glares at the covers of his bed. Better them than me, I think, which sets off a new trill of giggles. "What'cha gonna do about it, Cato? Because I don't think-"

The next thing I know, there's pressure on my waist. I feel like I'm flying; but really all that happens is I'm temporarily picked up before being slammed onto the bed. Luckily it's cushioned, because that could have hurt….bad. Even so, I let a bit of air out with a slight groan due to the fast movement. I raise my eyes, and his figure is towering over me. His arms are crossed, and a serious look is plastered on his face. "That's enough warning for you," he says, "now go."

Frowning a bit, I straighten up on the bed-even with the extra added height, I'm just barely taller than him. "Fine, you're no fun," I grumble, making sure my displeasure is clearly expressed before I smirk. Leaning forward, hands on my knees, I give him yet another smirk. "Goodnight, grumpy," I tell him, before leaning in on what I plan to be a short little peck on the lips before I attack the second bottle that's remaining on the floor.

But….things don't go as planned. When I go to straighten up, there are hands on my waist that lock me into place there. One of them goes up to my head, bringing it back down as his lips find mine once again. His kiss has so much to it-it's fierce, rough, hungry for more. My hands barely have time to find their place on him before I am moved once more, returning to my familiar position on my back. It doesn't take long for his hands to find their way slipping up under my shirt, his fingers hot on the cool skin there.

I don't know what it is about him, but something draws me in. While sure, in the past there has been one or two hookups of mine, I never thought it would happen in the games-and I certainly told myself not to get attached, to make sure nothing like this happened. Mostly because I know, once we're in the games, it will be a weakness of mine. As much as I know I should stop things now, something about his lips at my neck and my hands tugging at his shirt just seem so right….well, I can't bring myself to stop it.

It's with this decision in mind that first one piece of clothing comes off, then another. First our shirts littered the floor, my sweatpants joining them soon after. As the pile on the floor grew and the remaining pieces on us dwindled, I could feel the fact that I committed to this ringing clear in my mind.

I should have considered how this would affect me in the future, in the arena. I should have considered how this would affect our alliance. And I most certainly should have considered if his would cause any stress through our career pack if word got out. But as he slipped into me and we moved as one, all the worries fled my mind, I gave in to simply enjoy myself.

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Morning came all to soon. I'd be lying if I said Kelvin didn't seem entirely shocked when he found us in the same bed, and I suppose if we really wanted to that we could have hidden the fact anything had transpired last night. But I suppose the fact there was an empty bottle lying on the floor, with two glasses beside it, would have tipped him off anyway.

Not surprisingly, nothing changed. What happened, it hadn't really meant anything, I don't think. All I knew was, now I was even more opposed to killing Cato in the ring….which made me, you guessed it, royally fucked. Because if there was one thing I was focused on, it was winning. And I couldn't win if I couldn't work up the balls to kill somebody, now could I?

However, we played it off well in the morning. Kelvin didn't know just what happened, but I think he had his suspicions. Judging by the way he glowered at Cato all through breakfast, they were more than just suspicions. But I brushed them away anytime he brought it up with me, and was generally grouchy about the subject, pushing Kelvin away every time he tried to talk to me-about it, or not. I suppose I should have been a lot more grateful, but it was tough.

Finally, I realized it all had to come to an end. Ten o clock was fast approaching, and the trip to the arena passed in a crazy blur. The tracker was implanted, and the plane whisked us to the building. We were shepherded not entirely unlike sheep into our allotted rooms, where we were dressed in clothes the Capitol allotted us. The green pants were a bit tight, and the black top form fitting; but the jacket I zipped up kept me warm despite the cool dampness in the air.

My stylist gave me a few final words, before walking out. I had never felt so alone before, and sitting on the couch, I wished for any kind of company.

It seemed my wish was granted, because moments later the door opened and Kelvin strolled in. I was keeping my face composed, but he must have seen my resolve faltering a bit underneath it. He crossed to where I was, sitting next to me, and wrapping an arm around my shoulder. I let out a shaky breath, and to calm me, he pulled me closer.

"Hey….relax, Ry. You'll do fine, I promise," he told me, speaking in a soft and reassuring tone. While I couldn't one hundred percent believe him, I knew I had to try. After all, he had gotten out. Why couldn't I do the same?

He looked me in the eye, tilting my chin up with his free hand. "Look here. I know you'll do excellent. I'll be looking out for you in there, trust me. Anything I can do to help, I will do."

I nodded some, jumping as a mechanical sounding voice started talking. "Tributes to be in tubes in one minute." I automatically straightened, my eyes zeroing in on the container before me that seemed to seal my death.

I saw movement to my side, and Kelvin stood as well. He took my face in his hands, his voice quick but solid. "I got out of it alive, Rylin. You can too. You just have to stay on your toes, be alert. Keep your friends close and your enemies closer. Don't get to cocky, don't let your guard down. And remember….remember I'm rooting for you," he told me, kissing my forehead and pulling my into a tight hug. I felt as if the life was being squeezed out of me, but despite that, I returned the gesture. I wished I could just spend the rest of my time there, not having to worry about the games or anything else. But unfortunately, I had a duty to fulfill.

Regretfully, I let go and stepped back. Making my way to the tube, I was too aware of my heart pounding and the blood rushing in my ears. As soon as I was safely in the container of sorts, it zipped shut, cutting off any sounds from the room and encircling me like a protective bubble.

I turned, looking at Kelvin, who gave me a rueful smile. I had just enough time to see him give me a solid nod, a look in his eye that seemed to scream his belief in me, before I was being bore upwards towards my fate.