DISTRICT 8 INTROS: COLD WORLD

Lillith Gunderson, age 15

Walking anywhere in this District is a pain. There are people all over the place. And they keep bumping into me.

That's probably partly because I'm so short, but still.

Sheesh.

A second later, a tall, blond guy bumps my shoulder, nearly sending me sprawling, and that's it.

"Hey!" I shriek.

The guy looks around, confused. "Who said that?"

"Me!" I shout, thoroughly enraged.

His eyes fall on my, and he blinks. Several times.

"Um, I'm sorry?"

All right, that's it.

I punch him in the stomach, and then, when he doubles over, the face.

My best friend, Tara, squeals from behind me, applauding gleefully. I shoot her a grin and then dust my hands off, glaring down at the guy, who looks absolutely stunned and also kind of concussed.

Probably from hitting his head on the sidewalk after crumpling like a piece of paper.

Oh, well, that's his problem.

"Next time, watch where you're going," I snap before wheeling around and giving Tara a high-five.

"That was sweet," Tara says delightedly.

"Well, he bumped into me. And I think it was on purpose. And then he pretended not to notice I was there. I had to teach him a lesson."

"Hopefully your parents won't find out about this, though."

"How could they? It's not like we're in school where there are tons of snitches just waiting to report me."

"Fair enough. Hey, are you coming to my house for the party next week?"

"Duh. I wouldn't miss that."

Just then, we come to my house. Well, more like my small apartment. My brother, Timothy, is hanging out the window, and he waves at us. I glare at him in response.

Tara muffles a laugh in her sleeve.

Honestly, nothing is more annoying than my overly friendly older brother. I mean really. Can he not act like an excited puppy for five seconds?

"Well, see you tomorrow," Tara says.

"See you."

We high-five again, and then I head inside. I'm not looking forward to this. Ever since I turned twelve, my parents have been trying and trying and trying to get me to apprentice to my mother so I can become a seamstress.

And, every time, I say no, and yet they keep asking.

They just can't take a hint.

"Hi, Lily," Mom says as I walk into the living room. "What did you do today?"

"Hung out with Tara."

Mom's lip curls just a bit, but I know she and Dad don't approve of Tara. Like I care.

"That's...nice," Dad says. "Sweetheart, we need to talk to you -"

"Nope. Not becoming a seamstress. Not in a million years. There. Done."

Before either of them have a chance to respond, I race out of the living room and up to my room, shutting and locking the door behind me. I imagine Timothy regrets giving me the lock for my bedroom door for my last birthday, but I love it.

The second, my parents are pounding on the door, demanding to be let in, but I ignore them. I'm good at that.

Besides, I know what they're going to say. I've heard it all before.

It's a cold world out there, they'll say. You need a job if you're going to survive, they'll say.

The only thing is, I know the world is cold.

And I don't care. I'm gonna be fine.

Aegon Blackwood, age 16

I lounge on my bed, feeling rather bored. Normally, when I'm home, I'd be tormenting my younger half-siblings, Rhaemyr and Morana, but they're not here. I hope they get back soon, because I've got a basket of dirty laundry with their names on it.

I flip over onto my stomach with a huff, contemplating whether it would be worth it to go find the twins, when the doorbell rings. I don't move. The maid will get it.

A minute later, the maid (whose name I don't know) opens my door. "Master Aegon, your friend Matteo is here to see you."

Oh, this should be fun.

"Send him in."

Matteo bounds in with his typical energy, and I grin. Really, Matteo is less of a friend and more of a minion. I have a lot of those; mostly people who want to get in good with my family, as we're some of the most powerful people in the District.

Aside from the mayor and the Victors, of course.

But given enough time, we'll probably be on equal footing with them. I intend to see to that.

"Hi, Aegon," Matteo says.

"What are you doing here?"

"I though you'd like to hear a little piece of gossip about a certain Capitol model named Dacerie Doven."

That makes me sit up straight, because Dacerie Doven is the mother of my half-siblings.

"Only bad things, I hope?"

"Oh yeah."

"Then have a seat, my friend, and tell me all about it."

Matteo winds up telling me about how Dacerie, one of the Capitol's top models, has recently fallen out of favor with the public for some inexplicable reason. Well. Inexplicable to most people. But Matteo's father is a journalist from the Capitol, and he has the inside scoop on everything.

Which, incidentally, is the only reason I associate with Matteo.

As it turns out, Dacerie has recently been discovered to be a rebel. Or at least, a rebel sympathizer.

If this gets out, she'll be executed.

And, well, if I should happen to have a slip of the tongue at my parents' dinner party tomorrow night...

I nearly start laughing with delight, but I manage to restrain myself. "Thank you for that, Matteo. Nice job."

The other boy positively beams, and I have to fight back a laugh again, but this time it's mocking, not delighted.

A few minutes later, Matteo leaves. I don't think I'll be hanging around him anymore. He's served his purpose.

Other people might say that's cold, but it's a cold world.

And only those who are cold survive.

Lucky for me, I'm the coldest there is.

A/N Aegon's a real jerk, isn't he? I'm looking forward to killing him.

Anyway, I hope you liked it, and please review!