A/N: The last one was kind of a filler so I'm going to try to go ahead and get this one finished in the same night. If I don't, I'm sorry. But here's Chapter 21.

TWENTY-ONE

And something hits me across the stomach.

One of the backstage workers all but push me onto the stage. I walk out, staring straight ahead at Vick, his orangish-reddish hair almost like a beacon. The audience roars as I come out and make my way across the stage. Vick smiles and reaches out his hand to me. I take it robotically and we sit, me grateful because I felt like my knees were about to give out.

"Sapphire," he says, smiling at me, "how are you feeling tonight?"

I take a deep breath, using my diaphram rather than my lungs because it would make it quieter and harder to see. "I'm alright," I say to him. "A tiny bit nervous."

He laughs easily and nods. "That's perfectly normal," he says. It's a simple thing but it makes me feel better. "You look stunning tonight. Which reminds me, I was absolutely floored during the tribute parade." Here, the crowd cheers. I look out at them and smile genuinely. This makes them cheer more. Vick quiets them down and looks at me again. "What were your thoughts when you went out?"

I pause for a millisecond, trying to think of the right response. Answer honestly. "Well," I say, "I was just hoping I wasn't going naked the rest of the way." The crowd bursts into laughter at this. I force myself to smile rather than look confused.

After they have calmed down, Vick speaks again. "Well, it was almost as grand an entrance as your parents'," he says. "It definately earned you the name 'Crown Jewel.' And you really are a Crown Jewel, I must say. You're a sapphire, you're a diamond, and you're the child of two victors, untouchable. Speaking of which, do you plan to bring back your parents' flames?"

I am quiet because I am not sure what to say. I know that this question was set up for me, to give the Gamemakers something to make my life even worse in the arena. I look around and spot Lincoln. He is watching me curiously and I finally come up with something. I smile at Vick. "Well, you can't spell 'Sapphire' without having 'fire' in there," I answer, knowing that this doesn't exactly fit because the fire in Sapphire is spelled with a P-H rather than an F. However, this sends the crowd into a riot of cheers.

As I hear these cheers, and see the looks on these people's faces, I begin to think that maybe there are more rebels in here than I expected. Maybe most of them are on my side rather than Nicola's. Thinking of this helps me to relax a bit so I try to keep that mindset.

Vick smiles back at me and nods. "Of course," he says, humor in his voice. "Why didn't I think of that? I'm sure you're going to be a hit in the arena. And I also hear that someone has a birthday coming up. And soon too. Want to tell us about that?"

I hear Haymitch's voice in my head as I look for an answer. Play the innocent girl whose family has already been through too much. I cast my eyes down and make my expression sad. As I speak the words, I find that it is true sadness, no pretending. "Yes," I say softly. So softly not even my clip on microphone can catch it and Vick has to put his to my lips. "I'm going to be turning sixteen. Maybe. And, if I make it, I'm quite disappointed I won't be able to celebrate it with my family. My father and mother have been talking about my sixteenth birthday for months, having everything planned out already. I was so looking forward to it. Even just being with my parents and brother for it would be the best birthday I could wish for."

Here, the audience makes sounds of sympathy, and I know what they see me as. A pitiful girl who wants nothing more than to be with her family, who deserves to come home because it would be a tragedy if, after all the Mellark family has lost and been through, to lose their daughter who is about to be or just turned sixteen.

Vick takes my hands in his and looks at my sympathetically. "I'm very sorry to hear that," he says. "But maybe, if you win, you can go home and have something else to celebrate." He now offers me a small, sad smile.

I force a little smile back. "Maybe," I echo. Keep it sad here, Sapphire. "But I think we all know that it's really not that simple." I can almost feel the audience's sadness along with mine. I think they now realize that strong doesn't necessarily mean winner.

Vick nods. "Of course," he says. He keeps my hands, rubbing circles with his thumb on the back of my left hand. He looks out at the audience and back to me. "Now, I have one more question before your time is up. About your district partner, Chisel."

I stiffen here and hope that Vick doesn't notice. Out of all the things that I could have been asked, I was not expecting Chisel to be a part of one. Here, I wonder if it is better to lie rather than tell the truth.

"He volunteered for your brother is that correct?" Vick says. After I nod, he continues. "We all saw your reaction to his reaping, and we were all quiet disappointed when we saw it. The display of your love for him was priceless and definitely something to sympathyze with you about. And then, Chisel volunteered for him. What are your thoughts on that?"

I sigh as I rake my mind for answers. I finally decide to answer honestly. "I'm... so grateful," I say, my voice dripping with guilt. "That's so bad I know. I just wish that I had enough time to pay him back in some way. I will never stop owing him for that." The buzzer goes off, indicating that my time is up.

Vick pats my hand. "Well, good luck to you, Sapphire Mellark," he says to me, his voice full of pity. "And may the odds be ever in your favor." He stands up, still holding one of my hands so that I have to stand too. "The Crown Jewel, everyone!" he yells, the life back in his voice now. As the crowd starts to cheer, he kisses my hand and motions to the other side of the stage. I cross numbly, grateful whenever someone pulls me back behind a wall, hidden from the stage. Wynona is there to retrieve me.

"You were wonderful," she says though the words barely register in my head. "There are going to be sponsors tripping over one another to get to you. Just wait."

I push past her to chairs set up in front of a monitor showing the stage and the activity going on. I sit in one, feeling like my knees are about to give way. "I feel like I'm going to be sick," I mumble, slumping forward with my head in my hands, ignoring the disapproving look that Wynona shoots me. I look up at the screen to see that Chisel has already made his entrance. I pick up on his angle immediately, as if it wasn't already predictable. It makes me think of the tribute Thresh in the 74th Hunger Games.

"So, Chisel," Vick says causually. "You're enjoying the Capitol?"

The young man beside him shrugs. "It's alright," he says. "Different from District Two or Twelve."

Vick nods, seeming to think. He smiles at Chisel. "That's right," he says. "You're from District Two, aren't you?"

Chisel also nods. "Yes," he says. "But I was born in Twelve."

Vick looks at him seriously. "And you're sister is here too, correct?" he asks him. I can tell this hits home on Chisel, though his face shows no emotion. "Giovanni? The girl from Two?" After a confirmation, he continues. "Now, what are your thoughts on that? Obviously, you two are going to be allies, right?"

Chisel is quiet for a few moments, staring at Vick. Then, he looks down. "It's whatever Gia wants to do," he says, his voice low and rough, resembling that of a wolf. And with the ferocious look, it made him seem even more like the strong, wild dog. If Chisel is a wolf, I know good and well that he is a lone wolf. "If she feels that we should be allies, then we will." And with that, he was quiet. His dark, mysteriousness makes the audience lean forward, wanting to keep deeper and know more. Even I find myself wanting to grab him by the shoulders and shake him as if I can make the answers fall out of his pockets.

Vick looks a bit lost for a moment. He was obviously hoping for more than that, for something to work with. Without Chisel offering him anything, I can tell it is difficult for him. Suddenly, his green eyes brighten and he smiles. "Now, let's move on to your district partner, Sapphire Mellark. How does it feel knowing that you have the daughter of Katniss Everdeen and Peeta Mellark as your district partner? Do you know each other well? I know her mother and your father were good friends, were they not?"

Chisel nods. "Yes," he says in a sort of bored tone. "Dad and Katniss were friends as children. Sapphire and I have known each other for awhile."

Vick raises his eyebrows and smiles, feeling that they are finally getting somewhere. He leans forward in interest. "So you two are close? Good friends maybe? Is that why you volunteered for her brother?" he asks, pushing farther and farther.

The young man sighs and rakes a hand through his hair, looking down at the ground past Vick's chair. "I wouldn't exactly say that Miss Mellark and I are friends," he says carefully in a voice that says he really doesn't mind. "We never saw each other much before now. As for volunteering for her brother, it was not because our families are friends."

The audience mumbles in confusion, easily heard over the microphones. Vick looks around, seeming to be searching for the right thing to say. While he has been a good host so far, this is difficult for him. He is not like Caeser Flickerman, who can bounce off of something like this and use it. He finally finds the right words. "And what, exactly, is the real reason, Chisel?" he asks carefully. "All of Panem is dying to know."

Chisel nods and leans back, as if preparing to tell a long story. "True," he begins, sounding casual and flat, "that while our families are friends had something to do with it, it is not the initial reason why I volunteered." Here, he leans forward again, his black eyes burning intensily. I wonder what he is going to tell them since I cannot see him telling all of Panem what he told me on the roof. "The real reason is because sending a twelve-year-old boy into an arena with twenty-five - or twenty-four in this case - other children out to kill him is sick. Who does that?" As he was speaking, his voice was growing more and more intense. "It's better to send an eighteen-year-old with a little training into an arena than a young, defenseless, innocent child. And people even find that immoral and twisted."

The silence that hangs in the air is tense and deadly. Vick sits there, speakless, in some sort of trance. Chisel stands up, nods to the audience, and walks off the stage with one minute and fourteen seconds still on his time. I stand up as he approaches. "Chisel," I say, trying to get him to stop. He stalks past me without hesitation. I grab his arm to pull him back but he yanks it away and keeps walking.

I toss and turn in my bed, driven by a nightmare to stay awake but knowing that I need to sleep. Finally, I give up and make my way to the elevator to go to the roof. Once the doors open to it, I run to the railing, ramming into it, stopping. Not caring if the people below can hear me, I let out a scream as if it can take everything away. I stand on the railing, wondering if maybe the force field surrounding the roof is strong enough to stop my heart, like it did Father's in the Quarter Quell. I am seriously considering jumping whenever strong arms wrap around my waist and hoist me down from my perch. Their warmth is welcoming and helps me feel a bit better.

"I don't want to go, Chisel," I mumble, holding one of his arms with a death grip. "I don't want to go." I turn where I can look at his face. He is looking down at me, his black eyes closed off.

"I know," he says quietly. "I know you don't. I don't want to go either." He sits us down on the bench. I move to the grass, though, where Father, Mother, and I sat the other day. The sweet smell of the grass makes me think of home, sitting around in the forest with Sutton on days we were off from school or just needed to escape the every day stress of life. I lay in it, the soft tips tickling my cheek. Chisel sits beside me, watching me curiously. He smiles slightly. "You remind me of a cat," he says. "Rolling around in the grass, running your fingers through it like a cat clawing it."

Suddenly, I am reminded of how Gale used to call my mother Catnip rather than Katniss because he misunderstood when she told him the first time. I sigh, closing my eyes. Then, a thought scurries across my mind. I open them and look up and Chisel to see him laying back, propped up on his elbows, staring at the unnaturally orange sky. "Chisel," I say, getting his attention. I am almost sad to make him because for once his face was almost content. "Why did you say what you did tonight?" I ask carefully. "In your interview? The Gamemakers probably hate you now. They're going to make your life miserable in the arena because they have reason to."

His eyes narrows as he thinks about it. He doesn't look at me as he speaks. "I don't know," he says. "I mean, I'm going to die in there anyway, what does it matter that they torture me? As long as people know the truth and what really needs to happen, it almost seems worth it. The worst they can do is kill me on the spot."

I lay on my side and prop myself up on my elbow, watching him carefully. The way his eyes dart to the left and back quickly when he thinks, how he tends to breath heavily through his diaphram when he tries to calm himself, the way his jaw moves whenever he talks. I shake my head, not even bothering to move my hair out of my eyes whenever it falls. "I don't want you to die," I say before I can stop myself. He looks at me, examining my face to see if there is any hint of a lie there. "Chisel, I want to go home. All of us do. But if I had to choose between you or me living, it would be you. My parents are tough. They've gotten though a lot of pain; they can do it again. But your family doesn't deserve something like that."

Chisel pushes the hair out of my face gently in such a way that it will not fall back down. "And your family does?" he says quietly. "Sapphire, if anyone deserves to keep their child in that arena, it's your family. Your mom has lost her father and her sister. She's had to experience her husband going crazy and trying to kill her. Your father has lost his whole family. His father, mother, and if he had siblings, he's lost them too. They've both had to experience their friends being killed... The last thing that they deserve is to lose their daughter too."

As he says the words the reality finally sinks in that not only has my parents lost family but I have too. Both my grandfathers have passed away, my grandmother. Father always told me about my uncles, how they would always get into brawls and my grandmother would chase them around the house with a rolling pin until they finally locked themselves in a closet and waited for my grandfather to calm Grandmother down. Of course, I would always laugh at the stories and so would Father, but there was always a sadness there in his voice as he told it. My mother would also speak of her father but not as often as Father would talk of his family. She tells me, along with some of the elders in Twelve, that Grandfather was a wonderful man, liked by everyone. She says that he would have loved me and Bey and thought that we were wonderful.

I swallow and lay back down on my back, resting my head in my folded hands behind it. "That's exactly my point," I say to no one specifically. "My parents know how to deal with this kind of stuff. But what about your parents? Who did your father lose? You still have your grandmothers, your uncles aunts. It would be much harder for them to deal with your death than my parents with mine."

There is a moment of silence between us. Finally, Chisel speaks up. "Your mother wasn't the only one who lost a father in that mine explosion, you know," he says, anger hinted in his voice. My breath catches in my lungs as I remember that detail. I feel guilty as he continues. "They also had a stillborn child."

I look over at him, my mouth hanging open. I finally find my words. "Oh, Chisel," I say. "I never knew."

He shakes his head, looking down at the ground. "No," he mumbles. "I didn't expect you to. It was inbetween me and the twins. It was supposed to be a boy. They were going to name him Niko after my granddad. We're not sure exactly what happened. He just... wasn't breathing. I've never seen my mother so broken before."

I sigh, not looking at him now. "Then, that means you should go home even more so," I say, my voice daring him to challenge me. "With Gia in the arena too, that means that not only will they lose two children if you don't make it but three. Chisel-"

"Then Gia should go home," he says, cutting me off. "Gia's the one who should go home if not you. You think I would just let my little sister die so I could be the one to go home? You wouldn't do that with Bey, would you?"

The mention of Bey's name is like a knife stabbing me in the heart. It gives me the energy to get to my feet and nod to Chisel. "I'm tired, " I tell him. "I really need my energy in the morning and so do you."

Chisel watches me for a few moments, then looks out at the Capitol. "I guess I'll see you in the morning then," he says, no emotion in his voice.

I nod. "Guess so."

I finally make it back to my room though I don't remember how. I crawl into my bed, burrowing in the sheets. I look for the most comfortable position though I am sure that I will not be able to sleep now.

A/N: Ah! Two updates in one day! Mission = Accomplished. Now say it with me... Who's the best?
AG's the best!
Um... I really need some sleep. XP

Don't forget to review, guys!