A/N: Hi guys, I'm back! I'm sorry for not updating for a long, long, long, long, long time. It's been, like, a month? Really, really, sorry guys.. Anyways, let's just be honest. Lately, I've been really obsessed with K-Pop. You know, boybands like TVXQ and Super Junior, and I've been spending too much time fangirling over them on the internet that I neglect my stories. I'm really, really sorry guys, I hope you forgive me, and please, bear with me. So, to make up for that, I've prepared a, hopefully, interesting chapter. The surname for the girl tribute looks familiar? Well, it was mentioned in Mockingjay that Snow had a granddaughter, and I assumed that the rebels would be crazy not to include her in the Games. Ah, I've rant too much. Enjoy the chapter, guys, sorry for grammar errors, and once again, sorry for not updating :( Review, please, I would love to hear your feedbacks! ^^

P.S.: For those of you who asked, no, I won't stop writing. I'll finish this story, and for the SYOT, I'll continue with it later, but I'll still write it :)

Disclaimer : I do not own The Hunger Games, the wonderful Suzanne Collins does. But, I do own the tributes.

Kalliste Snow

The Capitol Section 7

"Miss Snow?"

I get up with a groan, "Yes?"

"The reaping's in 2 hours, Miss, would you care to bathe and change your clothes? After that, the president has requested you to join her for breakfast." The maid says.

"I'll be ready in a few moments. Thank you for your information." I reply in a manner of a princess. My grandfather always taught me to speak formally to him and my parents, and even my friends at school. I sound like a complete weirdo talking about the latest fashion trend with a formal sentence. But I never really liked talking formally. Now that grandfather's gone, and my parents are too, I could easily talk informally without getting scolded, but it's not easy to let the habit slide.

Anyway, I step into the bathroom and bathe. I also change into a beautiful white dress made of silk with gold ribbons attached to it. The only gift from my grandfather that I actually like. Spraying some perfume and applying some makeup is good too. I need to keep up my 'president's granddaughter' image and look graceful and elegant as always. My grandfather gave me my name. Kalliste. In ancient greek, it means 'the most beautiful one'. I wouldn't say that I'm the most beautiful, but everyone else said so. My appearance is well, standard. With hair dyed white as snow, well, I recently changed it to silver, cause white makes me look like an old person, and blue eyes, as cold as ice. I'm not the kindest person you'll ever meet, and trust me, you don't want to be the one I'm mad at.

After I finish dressing up, I go towards the dining hall and find Coin on one end of the long dining table.

"Ah, Miss Snow. Please, take a seat." She says, gesturing to the other end of the table.

I sit and start to eat the food that was prepared before me. I eat some bread with chocolate spread and drink some hot chocolate. Yep, I'm a chocolate lover.

"So, Kalliste, today's the reaping. You nervous, dear?" Coin suddenly speaks up.

"Not at all, Miss President." I answer shortly.

"Not at all? Such a brave young lady. You certain you won't get chosen?"

"No, of course. I could get chosen. Everyone could. After all, this is, I trust, a fair reaping. Everyone has a small chance of getting reaped." I said, not believing every single thing I said.

"I see. Now why don't you finish your breakfast and then we can get down and start the reaping, yes?"

"Yes, ma'am."

I eat in silence, feeling the cold eyes of President Coin following my every movement.

After I finish, I wipe my mouth with the provided napkin. The president stands and I do too.

"I'll see you in a few minutes, Miss Snow. You may go downstairs to sign your name in for the reaping." She says with a most likely fake smile.

I smile back, "Of course, Ma'am."

I first go back to my room to fetch the moon-shaped necklace my father gave me years ago. As I put on the silver necklace, I can't help but remember the day when he gave me that. I can't help but remember my father.

His kind face.. His warm smile.. His deep voice..

Compared to my mother, my father's much more kinder. Since mom's Grandfather Snow's daughter, of course she'll be harsher. I miss my father..

I'm still thinking about my father when I go down the stairs and go out of the mansion, breathing in the sweet morning air. I sign my name in and stand in the 16 year old section.

A man finally climbs up the stage and begins the reaping.

"Good morning, Section 7. Today we are going to select a girl and a boy to compete in the first ever, Capitol Hunger Games. Let's start with the girl, shall we?"

I have to resist the urge to shout that they don't even have to pick a slip cause all the slips must have contain the same name. My name. So when the man calls out 'Kalliste Snow', I'm not surprised at all. It'll be insane if it's not me. So I hold my head up high, and stride gracefully up the stage. I face the crowd. I'm not afraid, I'm angry. Angry, because I don't think it's fair for me to receive the punishment for what my grandfather did. Angry, because the rebels have to set up this Capitol Hunger Games. What's the purpose of it anyway? Revenge? They can take revenge on us but not in this way. If they start another Hunger Games, what different are them from us? This was the cause of the rebellion. The cause of the war that led to the death of many. The war that even took my family away from me.

I'm so busy with my own thoughts and trying to control my anger that I almost didn't notice it when they call the boy's name. Hugo Stanton. A little 13 year old boy with baggy and dirty clothes and a too skinny figure. Messy dark hair, dark circles under his dark eyes. By the look of him, he's probably one of the homeless children that usually sit by the streets and beg for food or money. He looks like he was about to collapse, yet he bravely walks forward and stands beside me. He smiles in an arrogant kind of way. In an I-can-win-this-and-I'm-gonna-kill-you-all-so-don't-mess-with-me kind of way.

"Ladies and gentlemen, I present to you, Section 7 tributes!"

The man motions us to shake hands and we do so. I look into his eyes, and I see the truth. Behind that arrogant smile, behind that brave act, Hugo Stanton is afraid.