I wish that without me your heart would break
I wish that without me you'd be spending the rest of your nights awake
I wish that without me you couldn't eat
I wish I was the last thing on your mind before you went to sleep

Look, all I know is that you're the nicest thing I've ever seen
And I wish that we could see if we could be something

(Kate Nash)

"Sparrow, you look lovely!" Antonia gasped when the blonde girl emerged from her dressing room, where she had just spent the last couple of hours being made over by her styling team.

Lennox followed Sparrow out with a huge grin on his face. "I take full credit for her! We practically had to sew the dress onto her body, it's so…intricate," he sighed and leaned back to examine his tribute for the umpteenth time. "She doesn't look too much like a dancer?"

The dress Lennox had designed for Sparrow was the most beautiful item of clothing she had ever seen, even more so than the goddess-like golden dress she had worn during the parade. It was covered in diamonds and silvery thread that made flower shapes, and every time the light hit her at a certain angle, she was bound to blind someone. The see-through skirt stopped at her hips and went off into feather-like strands, giving her the impression of some rare, exotic bird made of gems. She felt naked and was continually looking down at herself to make sure her underwear wasn't showing, but Lennox had done a perfect job of arranging the gemstones in patterns that hid just enough skin between her ribs and her thighs.

"I don't even want to think about how many people slaved over that," Antonia sighed and folded her arms, her large blue eyes stuck on the dress. It was one for the ages, that was for sure. "I'm sure you'll be the favorite designer of the night, Lennox. Yet again." She smiled and took Sparrow's hand. "You look absolutely beautiful, love. Do you feel ready?"

Sparrow made a face and shook her head. "I don't feel like it at all. I'm going to… trip over my feathers, or say stupid things…"

"Just don't forget your name. That's happened more times than you may think," Antonia raised an eyebrow. "Where's your brother? Don't tell me they made him a suit to match you."

Lennox giggled and shook his head. "Evander called for something much more simple. He's got much more appeal in other departments, we don't need to focus on his looks so much," he explained and went off to find Imogen, who was finishing up Evander's look for the evening in another room.

Sparrow's mouth dropped open a little and she felt like she had just been slapped. "'More appeal in other departments?' What am I, rotten meat?" She frowned and caught her reflection in a mirror. Her hair long and pin-straight, bangs hovering at her eyebrows, green eyes made even bigger with mascara and silvery white eyeshadow, plump lips a pastel pink…she looked totally different. A sense of déjà vu came over her, like when she had seen herself in the chariot outfit, and she felt like she was in someone else's body again. "So all I have going for me is my looks?"

Antonia pursed her lips and went over to the girl, placing a hand on her shoulder. "Lennox is a hundred times better with his hands than his mouth. He tries his hardest, but he just…He isn't as sensitive as we are, because he's from here. But you and I, and Evander and Conall, we're all just from Five, what do we know?" She smiled faintly and kissed her cheek. "I was you not too long ago. The anticipation is far worse than the actual three minutes you spend up there. It feels like an eternity in purgatory, but once it's over, you'll feel the sweetest relief you ever will in your life. Well, besides when you win…Am I right, love?" She smiled warmly and patted Sparrow's back.

"Yeah, if good looks are what wins me sponsors…I might as well recite the alphabet when I'm up there," she mumbled, but her mentor was right. Antonia had to be right – she was the one who had done this before, and Sparrow was supposed to trust her and follow her advice. Besides, she was the smartest person Sparrow had ever met.

"Come on. Once your brother's done, we'll head down, okay? Just breathe deeply. You're not going to throw up or faint or say every curse word in the book, are you? No, you're just going to be you, and that's all anyone is asking."

"From District One, the brave and beautiful miss Carina Stavely!"

The first tribute had gone up to Caesar's stage, and though there were seven more kids to go before Sparrow would have to climb those awful stairs, she was trembling. Directly in front of her was the boy from Four, with his floppy brown hair, wearing a beige suit. She couldn't help thinking he looked like a bag of sand from the back. Her brain was going haywire and she couldn't focus on one thing for the life of her.

"Sparrow?"

Evander was right behind her, though, and that was keeping her from going completely ballistic. He looked concerned as his sister turned to face him. He had been dressed in a flattering white dress shirt and black vest with matching pants. He looked so much more normal than she did, and while a couple of other girls had creampuff-like dresses or obnoxiously-styled hair, none of them were being stared at. Everyone was looking at her – or maybe that was just her being paranoid.

"Sparrow, will you do my interview for me?" Evander whispered. They were ignoring Carina on the screen for the time being, while everyone else seemed to be watching the interview now, taking notes on how to go about their own. "I can't do this. I need to lock myself in the bathroom."

She smiled faintly and leaned back against the wall. "You want to trade? I think I could do a better impression of you than you could do yourself," she raised an eyebrow. Her heart rate began to slowly return to normal, and she was reminded that this was only an interview. The arena was tomorrow, and then she could allow herself to worry. Nothing here could hurt her, let alone kill her.

Evander shrugged and smiled, looking so cute and humble, like his usual self. "Probably. At least you won't be up there, wetting yourself, since that seems to be my thing."

A laugh came from Sparrow's lips and she surprised herself. "That's right! You're the sibling born without bladder control!"

"Shut up!"

The two Jacturnas looked toward the front of the line, and they saw Rex glaring at them. He cracked his knuckles, looking threatening enough with a black suit and blood-red shirt, but the angry expression on his face was enough to make them gulp and sheepishly retreat into silence.

Carina's interview ended with a vigorous round of applause and she returned to the room, giving a coy smile to Rex before heading back to her suite. Then it was Rex's turn, and the other tributes listened to the rest of the interviews in silence, with only an occasional whisper here and there. Even though he wasn't there, everyone felt intimidated by his explosion. He was the livewire of the group and no one wanted to cross him before the Games, for fear of being slaughtered by him first.

Rex was smug during his interview and had a smirk on his face the entire time, even when he came back to the waiting room. No one looked him in the eye as he returned to his suite and Valeria, the girl from Two, took the stage. She was relatively nice compared to her District One counterparts, and it was refreshing not to see a bloodthirsty Career for once. She made no secret of her ability to sneak up on someone.

The boy, Malin, was Sparrow's age. He was Valeria's cousin, and the audience seemed to feel some sympathy for that.

"Just imagine when they get to us," Evander murmured in his sister's ear. "Bet you there won't be a dry eye in the house."

"Or dry pants," she teased and gave a little smirk. "If you gotta go, I'd go now. Oberon would kill you himself if you were late for your own interview."

Aran, the boy from Three, was tall and limber and looked completely different from Reaping Day. Then, he had been wearing wire-framed glasses and looked like he hadn't had a haircut in years. Now he was wearing contacts and his hair had been shaved off, and he didn't look half-bad. He still spoke in a mumbled voice, and it was apparent that his new look had not changed his meek personality at all.

"Stella," Sparrow whispered once the small girl made it into the hot seat. She complimented Caesar on his pink outfit and hair, and then showed off her matching sparkly pink dress much to the audience's delight. They adored her.

"She reminds me of somebody," Evander murmured and nudged Sparrow with his elbow. "You see her?"

Sparrow watched the blonde young girl on the screen as she sat up straight, hands folded in her lap and her hair pulled into a neat bun. She looked like a princess, not like a little child who was being forced to fight for her life in a matter of hours. She bit her lip, knowing exactly who Evander meant. He was talking about her. Back when things were simple, and they were just a couple of kids. Four years had made a hell of a difference.

She reached down and took his hand in hers, and the two of them exchanged a look that said it all. Despite all this, they were still brother and sister first, and no Games were going to tear them apart. She had promised to fight for him, and he had promised to watch out for her. For all they knew, the Games would be over in a few days and they would both be headed home, and they would think, How silly were we? Not trusting ourselves? We made it. We made it home, both of us, because nothing can tear us apart.

"Sparrow? It's your turn," Conall whispered in the blonde's ear, and she jumped about two feet in the air. Her eyes were wide as she looked at him and they stared at one another for a few seconds. She was a deer in headlights and he was a gentle giant, and while she wanted to slap him for causing her so much agony, it wasn't worth it. She needed him to guide her. "It's okay. We'll be here, all of us," he smiled reassuringly and motioned to Antonia, who was right behind him, and Evander.

Sparrow nodded, her eyes still the size of saucers, and with that she slowly made her way up to the stage.

"Sparrow Jacturna, the noble little sister from District Five! And here she is…the golden girl herself!"

Caesar's voice seemed surreal as he introduced her. For seventeen years Sparrow had been listening to him welcome tributes, and while him saying her name had always been a possibility, she had never expected it to really happen.

She was beautiful. Not to use a terrible cliché, but she was the star of the show so far, and would remain so. Tall and blonde and absolutely stunning; shining in the dress Lennox had created just for her.

"Sparrow, darling, you look gorgeous! My compliments to your stylist!" Caesar gasped and then smiled his usual dazzling grin. "But I believe it's you who makes the dress. Just as lovely as your parade dress, if not better."

"Thank you," Sparrow said softly, and she blinked as she heard her voice resonate throughout the auditorium. There were thousands upon thousands of people in the audience, and if she had any hope of finding Lennox's face in the crowd, it was gone now. Everyone was a weird, colorful blur. Some of these blurs could be her sponsors if she played this right.

"So how have you and your brother, Evander, been getting along? Are you teaming up or are you fighting during training?"

Sparrow crossed one leg over the other like her mother had always taught her. Sit like a lady. Back straight, shoulders back, hands in your lap, and always at least a hint of a smile on your face. Neutral faces were too easy to mistake for frowns, and Sparrow didn't want to come out as the "grumpy" tribute. But these people, this audience, the nation did not know of her multiple emotional meltdowns over the last few days.

They had no idea what it was like for her.

"We've been playing together since we were babies, so of course we stuck together for this," she replied, surprised at how calm and soft her voice was. Inside, she was trembling. "We're going to be a team until the very end, and hopefully we'll both come home intact."

The audience laughed, and it was all she could do to hold back a confused frown. Laughing? She hadn't meant it as a joke. Arriving home in pieces was her worst nightmare right now, and these people thought it was funny? She wasn't going to argue, not now, when the lives of her and her brother were at stake.

"Well, I hope you come back in one piece too, sweetheart," Caesar nodded and reached over to hold her hand. She was surprised to see such a kind gesture from someone whose job was to make kids likable before narrating their deaths. "It was so emotional when you volunteered for your friend back home. Your sister-in-law, correct?" He sighed as Sparrow nodded. "Thanks to you, she's going to have the baby and live a happy life. Do you realize how special that is? We've had tributes volunteer from non-Career districts before, of course, for varying reasons, but yours touched the nation as a whole. Am I right?" He gestured to the audience, who murmured an affirmative reply.

Sparrow could feel a lump growing in the back of her throat. Oh no, not again. Please not now. She only had three minutes to not cry and make a fool of herself, and here she was, getting worked up again. "It was the h-hardest, but...also the easiest decision of my life," she said quietly. "Hard to leave my family behind, hard to give myself up, but it was natural. I didn't even really think about it. I just knew that it was wrong for Aurelia to go, and I love her, and…I wanted her to be safe." Her voice was faltering now, and while it was having a great effect on the audience's emotions, she felt like an idiot. An idiot who couldn't make up her mind or control her feelings for three minutes.

"I'm sure that Aurelia and the rest of your family are so proud of you," Caesar whispered. He squeezed Sparrow's hand and smiled. "You're going to return to them in a few weeks and have a new nephew to hold, isn't that right?"

He was ignoring the fact that she had said that she and Evander were going to come home together. It was all or nothing. Her stomach began to hurt and she swallowed with difficulty. "Yes, I…I love them all so much," she whispered, blinking back tears.

"How have you been doing under your mentors? Conall Fletcher and Antonia Marsh were excellent tributes, I remember when they were sitting where you are now," the pink-haired host remarked in a much lighter tone. "It's a shame you can't talk about what went on during scoring! I would have loved to see what they've taught you that earned a ten!"

He was no longer Caesar. It was Conall sitting across from her, his handsome face even more so with that warm smile. He was chuckling, his voice deep, and his blue eyes were twinkling. He had a wedding ring on and Sparrow was unsure of whether he was laughing with her or at her.

"You think you can make things right? Making me into your boyfriend, protecting Evander, being the golden girl?" He shook his head and leaned in closer to her, his elbows on his knees, his large body dominating his seat. "Let me tell you something most mentors don't share with their tributes. Your life won't be any better even if you do win. Blood on your hands, death in your eyes, and suddenly the past seems so much better in all its mediocrity. Don't put too much hope in the future, Sparrow. It didn't help you get a fiancé, did it?"

His face kept flickering to Huxley's, which was eerily similar. Huxley had no stubble, his hair was lighter, and he looked less hardened than Conall. But it was Conall, Huxley, Conall, Huxley, Conall…Conall.

She was somehow walking from the stage to the waiting area. She didn't remember replying to Caesar or leaving the stage or hearing applause, but it must have happened and she was just too upset to realize it. She had only been going through the motions.

"Sparrow! Sparrow, that was great!" It was him. He was not the menacing figure who had warned her in her little hallucination; he was his happy, charming self. He furrowed his brow when Sparrow stormed past him, the bottom of her dress fluttering and flying out around her legs. She made it to the elevator before her ankle twisted in those cursed high heels, and she cried out as she grabbed onto a potted plant on her way down. Holding herself up with trembling arms, her ankle throbbing, she kicked her shoes off and started to cry. Not just little sniffles and the occasional tear, but she was wailing and whimpering, and the hours' worth of makeup turned into some sort of botched painting. The show was going on without her, and just when it seemed like no one was going to come tend to her, she felt a large pair of hands at her waist.

"Chin up, Sparrow," he whispered in her ear. He steadied her and then wrapped his arms around her torso. He pressed against her back and kissed her temple, brushing her sleek blonde hair aside before pressing his lips to her cheek. Her sobs turned to tiny, soft whimpers, and the tears fell from her round cheeks to her chest.

"I…I…I can't do this, I can't…breathe," she sniffled, her lower lip quivering. "I can't do this! I can't go home! It's me or him and I can't leave him behind!" She gasped for air and her tearful eyes widened when he spun her around and grabbed her face with both hands. His lips met hers in a warm, tender kiss that lasted much longer than the first one. And this time, he was kissing her.

"You can. You will. You'll see, Sparrow," he murmured and stroked her wet cheeks. "I trust you, and I know you're going to do the right thing." He kissed her lips again, and it was the best she had felt since Huxley had been alive. But this was Conall. They were different people, she realized that now.

He was what she had needed, but in a different way than expected.

"Give me one more," he whispered. "I need it. We both do."

So she leaned up on her toes and kissed Conall again. After all, she trusted him, and he believed in her. The least she could do was show her affection.

"Thank you," Sparrow whispered. She rested her cheek against his chest and closed her eyes, feeling all the anxiety slowly leave her body. "Thank you…Conall."