Yes, it has been forever since I last updated. A lot of crazy things happened, as they always seem to do, but I'm back to writing now, and should be updating this story more frequently. I hope you're still reading!

I know it takes time to leave a review, but they mean so much to me. And you might have noticed that if you only reviewed once, as several people have, then your character isn't getting as much attention as the other ones. You don't have to review every chapter, but if you've only reviewed once, at the start of the story, and you haven't reviewed since, I'm going to assume you're not reading, and your character will die in the bloodbath. Basically, if you review, your character will get more attention, and will definitely last longer in the Games. This isn't to punish people who don't review – it's just that it's mutually beneficial for you to review. I get to see how I'm doing, you get to tell me if I'm getting your character right, or if there's some kind of subplot you'd like to see your character in, and most importantly, I learn more about your character and feel more comfortable writing about them, and they get more attention. So please review! If you've been reviewing, as a lot of you have, just ignore this.

I promise I'll be updating a lot more from now on!

Kyou, 17, District 3

"I won't go on," I insist. "I won't go on until you let me talk to my Mentor."

"Everyone's waiting!" a woman with headset shrieks at me. "Caesar's stalling the audience for now, but this is the last time I'm going to tell you this: get on that stage!"

"I already told you-" Before I can finish, two Peacekeepers grab ahold of my arms and begin to drag me into the hallway. "Wait! I need to talk to my Mentor! She didn't tell me what to say!"

"Hey, get your filthy hands off my tribute!" For the first time since the Reapings, I'm happy to see Monk tearing down the hallway. Her dirty-blonde hair is falling out of its carefully styled French braid as she storms at me barefoot. The Peacekeepers immediately release me from their grip.

"Monk! Monk, what do I do?"

She slaps me.

"What the hell was that for?" I ask in shock, holding my stinging cheek.

"You looked like you needed it. You didn't? Oh, my mistake. Well, no harm done. Listen, get out there and show the audience how handsome you are, and then give them some kind of story to make them want you to go home."

"Is that what you did during your interview?"

"No, I gave them the finger. But I didn't get any sponsors, and I'll be damned if you make the same mistake I did! Now go out there and make them love you!"

With a shove, she sends me tripping onto the stage. I quickly compose myself and sit across from Caesar with renewed confidence.

Monk finally did something right.

"Kyou, how lovely to see you this evening!" Caesar begins. I nod, as if I know what a pleasure it is to see me, and remain silent.

"You certainly made a bit of an entrance, didn't you?"

"Well, gee whiz, Caesar, I just couldn't wait to get to this interview," I say in a bored tone before yawning.

"Yes, it's all very exciting, isn't it? Now, tell us who's waiting for you back home."

"My family. And my best friend, Sol."

"Sol?"

"Yeah. She's my light waiting for me back home." I throw the audience a quick half-smile to try and follow Monk's advice.

"Is there anything you want to say to her?"

"That I'm on my way home."

Devi, 18, District 4

"Michelle, you're on next," Avenaye says as he comes crashing through the door to our room. "What are you gonna do?"

"I know what to do."

"Well, that makes my job a lot easier. What are you planning?"

"Something that's none of your business."

"But I want to know," Avenaye whines.

"Drop it and leave it alone."

Avenaye whimpers like a puppy.

"God, why don't you act your age for once?" Michelle snaps.

Avenaye flinches and seems genuinely hurt by this comment.

"Just, um… Go ahead and get on stage," he mumbles.

"What should I do?" I ask excitedly as Michelle leaves. "There are tons of hot girls in the audience, right?"

"Remember where their eyes are, Devi. Do not get caught looking at anyone's chest."

"Well, you're kinda tying my hands behind my back, Avenaye."

"Act like a perfect gentleman. Whenever you think of something you want to say, say the opposite, got it?"

"This is just cause Michelle told you to act your age, isn't it? Now you're taking the fun out of everything."

"Opposite, Devi. Opposite. Okay?"

"But then how will I woo the ladies?"

"Trust me, if you go against every instinct you have and act nothing like yourself, they'll love you."

"Really?" A smile spreads across my face. All the women in Panem will fall madly in love with me in just a few minutes. Finally, everyone will know what a great catch I am.

As soon as I walk onto the stage, I feel everyone's eyes upon me. I soak in the attention.

"So, what do you think of the turnout tonight, Devi?" Caesar asks me.

"Well, I see a lot of women out there tonight who are… Who are…" My head tells me to say 'stunningly beautiful,' but then I remember the opposites tactic. The tactic that will make everyone love me. "…Who are so ugly that they're just downright difficult to look at."

"…Well, it's hard to get a good look at the audience from up here."

"I wish, Caesar. But, no, I can see every one of those hideous little faces looking up at me." I love them. I love them all. "I hate them. I hate them all."

"Do you have any family back home, Devi?"

"…I'm sorry, what? I wasn't listening, I was too distracted by that woman's fat tushie. I mean, she's taking up two seats down there."

As soon as I re-enter the waiting room, Avenaye grabs both of my shoulders.

"What the hell was that? You just made half the audience hate your guts!"

"I did the opposite thing you told me to do! I think it went pretty well."

"You will never get a single sponsor. This is a disaster. This is… This is my fault. This is all my fault." He leans against the wall and slides down to the floor.

"What are you so upset about?" I ask.

"Devi, I've as good as killed you."

Rico, 12, District 5

Rafael comes limping into the room as the interviews move on to District 4. Lani, who was quietly sitting in the corner, peers worriedly through her thick black hair.

"You're injured," she says.

"Just a bruise," Rafael brushes her off. "We need to talk about your interview, Lani. You need to get through it without having a panic attack."

"I can't." As she speaks, Lani takes a plastic bag from a drawer and fills it with ice from the icebox in our waiting room. She kneels down before Rafael with the bag of ice and gently lifts his pant leg to show a nasty bruise forming. Wincing, Rafael allows her to place the bag on his shin. He moves her hand away so he can hold the ice himself. "Doesn't it hurt?" Lani asks.

"Everything hurts, Lani," Rafael says tiredly. "All the time."

"Yes," Lani says, staring at Rafael as if he's the only one who understands her. "It does."

"What should I say when I go on?" I ask nervously, fidgeting with my binoculars. "I don't know what to do. I've never been interviewed before."

"Rico," Rafael says. "You're twelve. You've just gotta look cute and talk about your mommy. And don't spit. I've been meaning to talk to you about that, it's a terrible habit. You look like a filthy old cowboy. Just… keep your saliva in your mouth, can you do that for me?"

I nod eagerly. I can do that. Easy.

I lick my palm and slick back my hair, trying to stop it from sticking up.

"Rico! The saliva! What did I just say? It stays in your mouth! Don't put it on the ground, don't put it on your hand, and don't even think about putting it in your hair. Just leave it. In. Your mouth."

"Gotcha," I say with another nod.

A woman with a headset peeks her head in the door and tells us that Lani will go on in three minutes.

"Shit!" Rafael runs a hand through his hair, desperately trying to think of a way to get Lani through her interview.

"I can't do it," Lani says, breathing heavily.

"Yes, you can. Trust me. Just let me think."

"He'll be badgering me, he'll just keep asking questions, and he'll try and make people laugh at me or make me look stupid, and all he's doing is trying to humiliate me before he watches me die. He's a horrible human being, he – "

"Lani." Rafael grabs her shoulders and looks her directly in the eye. "There's only one thing you have to say. Walk onto that stage, sit down, say it, and then come right back to us. Can you do that? For me and Rico?"

Lani looks at me and then back at Rafael.

"I think so. What do I say?"

Rafael leans in and whispers something into her ear. Lani frowns with concern.

"I can't say that."

"Isn't that how you feel?"

"…Yes."

"Then let them know. For the first time in your life, stand up for yourself."

The woman with the headset comes back in to take Lani away. "Thank you," Lani says to Rafael before following the woman into the hall.

"What did you tell her to say?" I ask.

"You'll see," Rafael says vaguely. He must see the fear in my eyes, because his suddenly turn soft. "It'll be fine, Rico. You just need one thing." He reaches into his jacket and pulls out a small tube of hair gel. He gently rubs my hair with the gel until all of the strays finally stay down. I smile as my confidence rises.

"Lani," Caesar says on the screen in the room. "So great to finally meet you, darling. A shy girl like you must be a little overwhelmed by all of this, right?"

Lani stares directly at Caesar. "Fuck you," she says, her voice confident and strong. "…And the horse you rode in on."

There's a collective gasp from the audience as Lani stands up and walks off of the stage. Rafael pats me on the back and I see a huge smile on his face.

"You're next, buddy," he says.