I can confirm that the Games will last for ten days. And we're on day six right now, so we're over halfway through the Games! There will also be two chapters when we hit the final five that are Aftermath styled recaps and interviews, and then after the Games are complete there will be two more chapters afterwards AND an epilogue! So that means this fic will have 35 chapters total! Probably. Still subject to change.

Gamemaker

Scarlett POV

Chris McLean seems to be incredibly relieved after the display yesterday. It's not all that hard to imagine why. His vocation is the most important thing to him, his image is his life. The position of Head Gamemaker is volatile and fickle, changing ever-constantly. It's a dangerous job and a precious few can pull it off for a while. The longer you have the job, the easier it gets. But the first year could lead to your death so much more easily.

I would seriously consider striking a match and setting Chris McLean's gelled hair on fire, but sadly that's not the most efficient way to go about doing things.

So unfortunately, I'm stuck with that idiot as my boss for now.

I walk up and he's looking out the window of his office, hands tucked behind his back. "You wished to see me, sir?" I say, making it clear that I do not view him as my superior in any way, shape, or form.

McLean sighs, turning towards me. "I have been told to thank you for your services, Scarlett. With your help, not a single word from those pacifists were broadcast. You are no longer in charge. Once again, you report to ME. Got it?"

I bow mockingly. "I understand, sir. But really. Are you ignoring the obvious?"

He grits his teeth. "What are you talking about?"

"There may have been no words of rebellion that made it through our sensors. But don't you think Eva's action in handing Bridgette and DJ the Nightlock could be considered...rebellious?"

Chris curls his fists, and his facial muscles tense. "That does not matter. No words were said. I keep my job, and you are just a Gamemaker. Return to your duties."

"Yes sir," I tell him, and exit the room. Only then do I allow myself to scowl.

"Scarlett," Billy slithers up next to me like the snake that he is. "I've heard rumors about your involvement in the Games, possibly as the only reason everything didn't go to hell after Gwen's death. Do you think you could-"

"Save it, escort," I sneer at him, and walk briskly down the halls. I have somewhere to be, and I can't waste time dealing with a nosy escort that I believe is a part of the conspiracy in the Capitol. I'll have to find some way to deal with him. We'll just have to see.

An elevator ride later, I'm heading into the muttation containment section of the building. Here is where all the muttations are held and cared for, including many of my own design. I've never met the head caretaker but I've heard he's an eccentric fellow, like many in the Capitol. I have something I require from here.

The door opens and a short, squat man stands before me, talking into his headset. It is clear that he is slave to the Capitol's fashion, as the gray skin and purple hair would suggest.

"Yes, yes, I KNOW, but we don't really have time for that, and-oh look, I have a visitor! I guess we'll just have to HANG UP! Thank you, have a nice day!" He hangs up and sighs melodramatically. "Hello, good day to you. I'm Max. I'm the caretaker of this place."

"Scarlett," I reply, holding out my hands for him to shake. He does so, and gasps.

"Scarlett? You mean, the Scarlett? You've designed about half of the muttations in my care! It's a pleasure to meet you, how can I help?"

"I'd rather like to take the tour," I reply mildly, and he nods.

"Right this way, right this way. I'm sure you'll recognize a lot of these, considering you designed them and all." Max's voice is incredibly nasally and I find it incredibly grating, but I cannot let him know of this fact. He's enthusiastic about his job, at least.

We walk through a hallway, with glass cages on either sides of us. I smirk as I see a cloud of Monarchs flying around in a crimson display inside one of the cages.

"Those were your design, weren't they? I thought you said they weren't finished when you asked to put them in the Arena," Max asks, pointing to the Monarchs.

"They were originally going to transmit a hallucinogen that made the victim's mind believe they were in pain, but there wasn't enough time."

"Well, we feed these guys by just tossing chunks of meat in there. They devour it all within minutes!" He laughs, a surprisingly loving smile on his face. "I love them. So...macabre."

We pass by tracker jackers, wolf muttations, and my patented Cheshire Chameleons, glowing sickly in their cages.

"These are interesting beasts. I'm personally rather scared of them," Max says cheerfully.

"As you should be," I reply. The next cage contains a strange spider muttation not of my design.

And then the next cage contains a platypus. I stop and look at it. "This is a platypus. Not a muttation."

"Meh. They might as well be."

He walks up to a cage, his grin growing even wider. "And finally, what I consider to be my prize possession. The incredibly deadly viper. HUMONGOUS, HUGE fangs, can SQUEEZE the life out of its victims, and its venom is untraceable, making it look like the victim has died of a heart attack."

A grin spreads itself across my features. "That's what I'm looking for."

"Huh?"

"May I have a sample of this poison?"

He scratches the back of his head uncertainly. "Technically, I'm not supposed to, but...seeing as you've actually created most of these muttations..."

He turns on his headset. "Someone get me a vial of viper poison, stat!"

I smirk.

Perfect.

District 9

Trent POV

So then, it's begun. The end of the world. Best of times, worst of times and all that shit. I'm in the final nine now! I am very happy about this! You can just tell how happy I am right now! Happiness radiates from every inch of my being right now. Can't you tell? Well, I haven't had anything to lose, so I've been looking around all night, no sleep for me right now. Bags under my eyes as per the norm. I've been heading outward this whole time.

I like to think that my injuring DJ led to his untimely demise. I didn't see what happened with those two, but hey! They ended up dead, springing me into the final nine. I have free reign, and if I keep up my charade of still being normal and boringly sane, I should be able to kill more and more and more. But if I died, I wouldn't really be all too concerned. Don't got much to live for anymore, and my life will only get worse if I win. No no, I don't plan to win. Just to drag everyone else down to my level.

If I end up the last one standing, I'll stab myself with a knife. Then there'd be no victor. And then what would they do? Parade around the ghost of me? No no no, they'd be lost. Freed. Like I am right now. Chaos rising in them, so I need to survive until the final two, and then make sure the both of us take the plunge, permanently. That is my sole purpose in life, and my final purpose.

I climb and climb, walk and walk, and I reach the edge of the Arena. Or, the current edge of the Arena, to be more precise. There is no barrier this time, and I can stare out into the open abyss. And I'm fairly certain it stares right back into me, calling me by name. Ye god, that sounded ridiculous. Good thing I didn't say it out loud, I don't want to be labeled goofy. I want to be the villain, and I want to win. Is that strange? Or just insane? Or both?

I could do it. I could seriously jump right now and end my elating misery. But no, no I don't want to do that just yet. I still have a plan, and I still need to get far enough to put it into action. Simple as that, simple as that. I back away from the edge. My guess is that around the same time every day, the next ring will crumble, and then the next one. Then the next one, then the next one, then the next one, until there's only the Cornucopia remaining.

See, I still have intelligence left. I'm not just a mindless lunatic. Not anymore. Part of me feels like I'm being suppressed, like something I once known but had long forgotten is submerged by this new-found freedom of mine. No. Sentiment isn't the way to go. These people need suffering for what they did. They need pain, and I'm perfectly willing to dish some out and have a little fun along the way. Nothing personal, no hard feelings. Pain is a part of life just like anything else and I'm looking for some revenge, vengeance, on the world for forcing these roles upon us.

Izzy needs to die. Little bitch cut open Gwen and didn't even care. Just as bad as anyone else, maybe even worse. I plan to find her and have something special for her. Way worse than the fun I had with Duncan. The Capitol just eats this shit up! They love the grotesque, the gory, so fucking desensitized they are that they find it fantastic entertainment! I plan to use that to my advantage. The gorier, the better, and it just so happens that I need to be gorier and I want to be gorier.

I walk through the Arena, humming merrily to myself. My trusty dagger lies at the ready at all times. The Arena is shrinking, and I'm going to enjoy it because that way, I'll be able to kill more people more quickly. No one knows that I've snapped. No one has seen me and survived. I am a surprise that they're going to see far too late, and the thought of it makes me grin. I rather like the sound of that. I rather do indeed, indeed. Nine. Nine nine nine.

"How can I be sure I'm here? The pills that I've been taking confuse me. I need to know that someone sees that there's nothing left, I simply am not here." I start to sing softly, miming a guitar as I do so.

"You don't try to be liked. You don't mind. You feel no sun. You steal a gun to kill time." My voice starts to crescendo, emotion rising as I pretend strum the chords, this web of insanity and freedom finally mingling in my mind. This is the first time I've sung out loud in a long time, and somehow the memories of the life back in the district are brought back, in full color.

No no no. This is only making it worse. Only making it worse, but I don't care anymore. Worse and better are now blurred concepts to me. It's time. I need to find the others. I need to have revenge. I need to give the Capitol what they want.

"You're somewhere, you're nowhere. You don't care. You catch the breeze...you still the leaves...so now where?"

District 12

Sierra POV

Is it weird that just after we uncovered the secret of the Arena, the Gamemakers decide to destroy the outer ring? Was that an attempt to kill us or just really, really good timing? I don't know, and I don't like not knowing things. I've ALWAYS had to know things in order to get ahead in life. But in this Arena, there could be a coup going on in the Capitol and we wouldn't know. We'd still be stuck here, under the impression that the Gamemakers are in control.

If someone had come across us after we'd manage to escape the collapse of the outer ring, they could have easily killed us. We were worn out and pretty much ready to sleep just by closing our eyes. It's really a wonder we're both still alive. But now that one of six rings have been destroyed, it's only going to get harder for us. We're well-rested for now, but only because I dragged us into a safe area to sleep. Now we need to discuss what the plan is.

Cody yawns, rubbing the sleep out of his eyes. The morning air feels fresh and cool on the skin, and it truthfully makes me want to go back to sleep. But I know that another mistake could prove fatal. I feel like the only reason we're here is sheer dumb luck. Seeing Bridgette and DJ in the sky saddened me. And kind of made me wonder whether fighting is the best option. They must have died valiantly, I hope. Maybe they were onto something. Them just casually talking to us as opposed to trying to kill us...made a bit of an impression on me.

"Okay, so what's the plan?" I ask Cody, and he pops his knuckles in response.

"Let's just think about things for a minute," he yawns. "So there's six rings. One of them crumbles on day five. Assuming they keep going at this pattern, there should be one ring left on day nine, and then just the Cornucopia left when it crumbles on day ten. Assuming they don't speed up the process, although I don't see why they would."

"Sounds good to me. So what you're saying is that we should get away from the ring we're on right now?"

"Pretty much, yeah," he shrugs. "But it could mean we could run into tributes even more easily."

"That's a risk we'll just have to take, " I reply calmly and directly. "I would say that we should go on the attack, but something about what Bridgette and DJ did is saying otherwise."

"You mean how they just walked up to us, asked about what we knew about the Arena, and then left?" Cody asks.

"That's what I'm talking about, yes."

"Just don't worry about it, Sierra. We need to move, and the only way to get farther is either to outlast the others or kill them ourselves. No one has ever won a Games without killing anyone, I don't think."

I sigh. "It's not like that couldn't change. It's not like there COULDN'T be a victor who didn't kill anyone."

"Well, I'm not too happy about it either, but in the end, we'll probably have to end up killing someone in order to get out of here. It's as simple as that. An unfortunate necessity, and nothing more."

I sigh. "I suppose...it's just that I feel wrong about it, like I'm becoming used to it. I shouldn't be becoming used to death, to killing...but I do want District 12 to have its first victor."

Cody looks down at his shoes at this. He knows I'd prefer him to win than myself. And I think he feels bad about it for some reason. "If you say so, Sierra. We should probably get a move on anyway. We're rested up...somewhat. Plenty of shit we need to be doing. How much dear meat do we have left?"

"We're running a bit low," I inform him, passing him some. He takes a large bite.

"Okay. We'll get some more food and water as well. I don't want to die of thirst. Come on, Sierra. Let's go." He stands and starts walking.

I follow.

District 5

Courtney POV

I've managed to coat myself in mud, just like I planned. I literally cannot lodge myself free of this, so the least I can do is make it more difficult to find me. I'm on my last legs but I don't want to give up just yet. I am not one to give up easily. I've also been slowly trying to wiggle my aching leg out from under the tree, to no avail. I think I've managed to move it some, but really, what would I do if I got out? Crawl everywhere? I know I'm going to die.

It's inevitable, really, but I need to at least get out of this. Because there is an off chance that I truly could survive this and get some sponsors' help. That would probably be the best option, but my leg is killing me, it's probably broken, and my nose is hurting again. I am weak. I have no one to help me up. But if I try as hard as I can, maybe, just maybe sponsors will help me. That's my last chance, my last hope at ever getting out of this.

I grit my teeth as I attempt to pull myself out one last time. If I can't get out, so be it, but I do NOT want to give up this easily! I've come too far. I'm in the final nine, for God's sake! I don't have to survive too much longer in order to make it out of here. No more pessimism, no more wishy-washy behavior. Just KNOW that I can do this. Don't think it. I continue, letting out a cry as a spasm of pain works through my body. I stop for a moment to catch my breath.

Deep breath, in and out. I have a plan. I can get out of this. I can still do this. Just keep going, just keep going. Be determined, be tenacious, be incredibly fucking persistent, stubborn. That's all I can do now. No elaborate plan like I had back on the train. Just basic human survival. Break's over, and I continue pulling. Finally, finally, I seem to be getting somewhere. I ignore the pain, I keep going, and manage to wriggle my broken leg out from under the tree.

Holy shit...it looks fucking awful! Bleeding and out of shape, I try not to look at it. I'm not gonna get out of here alive now that I know that's what my leg looks like. NO, NO! I CAN'T lose hope now! I can still win this, even if I have to get a prosthetic leg after I finish! I am NOT ABOUT TO GIVE UP! Not like this, that's for sure. I use my muddy hands to crawl forward, trying to place as little weight on my leg as possible. I will win this if I have to drag myself there!

"Screw this. Screw everything," I hiss.

I crawl into the bushes, and lean back against a tree, breathing heavily. Something wet rolls down my cheek. I wipe it off and realize it's a tear. I'm...crying? It's been...so long. So long since I've openly cried in public. Have I lost it? Have I lost everything? My breaths are shaky, tears are rolling down my cheeks, my nose is broken, my leg is terrible. I can't win. I can't keep trying to be optimistic, foolishly optimistic. I cannot win.

Everything I've ever done was to better myself in life, better my parents in life. The District was restrictive and I knew that if I wanted to actually live as opposed to survive, I had to be ambitious. People only wallowed in misery that they inflicted on themselves. They didn't try to get out of it. I was well on my way to perhaps becoming a politician, or a Peacekeeper. I was going to live for once...and now I'm here. Dying. Alone. No one to comfort me.

I realize something now. I am here because that is the path I chose. I chose to work alone, I chose to die alone. I thought it would be okay. I thought everything would work out. Now I'm broken. My facade is obliterated. I am not strong. I am a scared, pathetic coward and I know it. I'm going to die alone, and I've accepted that. I need to reach for my knife. Better to die at my own hand than at the hand of the Careers, or Noah and Izzy.

Noah and Izzy probably hate me right now.

I would probably hate me too.

I fumble, trying to unsheathe my knife but failing. Anything is better than this agony I'm facing both from my body and my mind. Finally, I manage to clench the blade in my hands, my worn out reflection staring right back at me. I look defeated. Ready to die. Well, if I'm going to die, it might as well be before nothing can get any worse for me. I hold the blade in trembling hands and prepare to make it...but...should I? Could I? Is this how I want to go?

I sigh. I'm ready.

But then I hear voices from the woods.

"We'll keep moving until nightfall. If we don't run into anyone, we don't run into anyone."

Shit. Alejandro. Well, either way, I'm dead. I could kill myself now...or I could try to find out what they're up to. They'll most likely find me and kill me. I KNOW they'll find me and kill me. It doesn't matter to me. I'm all out of energy, all out of luck, all out of caring. There's nothing left for me to do. I'm running on empty.

At this point, it would be a relief to die.

District 5

Noah POV

I'll admit I'm feeling pretty satisfied with myself, although Izzy has not shared my enthusiasm about this. I've explained to her exactly what's going down with the Arena, at least my very, very educated theory, and she's still a little confused. I'm not sure whether the confusion is real or just to get back at me for yesterday. I suppose I should have told her exactly what was going on before the earthquake itself happened. Oh well, I suppose. I'll just have to make sure that she knows, and if she's trying to piss me off...she's trying to piss me off.

"Okay. We're in the final nine now, Izzy. I guess something about this has been working out, right?"

She sighs, eating an orange. "Well, I suppose. But the final nine isn't exactly something to celebrate."

"The final ten would have been something to celebrate, but two tributes died at the same time. Therefore, final nine. Ta da. We couldn't have been able to celebrate the final ten anyway."

She rolls her eyes. "So what are you planning to do, throw a rave for it? Drink booze? Withhold information from your alliance member?"

I groan and hold a hand to my forehead. "Let's go over it again. If you're still, ahem, confused by the time I'm finished talking, then I'll know you're just trying to get back at me."

I clear my throat. "At the start of the Games, there were six rings of land extending from the Cornucopia. Now, the slopes seemed to have no purpose but the hole we discovered yesterday led me to realize that the only reason brick would be there is if it were meant to collapse. Therefore, I also deduced that one ring would collapse at a time, probably one a day. The earthquake was a result of the outer ring collapsing. The collapse also doubles as a way to draw tributes closer together. At around the same time today, the next ring will probably collapse."

"Ohhhh. You know, it would have been a lot easier if you would have told me that yesterday."

"Just...let it go, would you? I'm sorry. Is that what you wanted to hear?"

"...yes, actually." Her voice is quieter than normal, a little milder than normal.

It's silent for a moment between us, before I sigh and stand up. "Let's get moving. Things to do, people to kill, yada yada yada."

She nods and stands. "Do you think that people would stay on the outermost edge of the Arena now?"

I turn to her. "What do you mean?"

"I mean, people who walk over to the edge know now that one of the rings collapsed, and that the others will probably follow. Does that mean they'll probably stay away from the outer ring?"

"Now that's a problem without a solution," I say, a genuine smile on my face. "I could go there because no one else would go there. But what if someone else had the same idea of going there because they thought no one else would go there? So I don't go there."

"Oh yeah, it's one of those infinite spiral things where in the end it's a 50/50 chance. Yeah, you're right."

I chuckle. "But, people are more likely to go there anyway on the basis of 'what the heck?'"

"I'm not sure if I believe that or not."

"Whatev. We probably shouldn't go there. The Careers are somewhere around here. I don't really view anyone else as a threat, except for maybe Trent."

"Don't be arrogant," she says cheerfully. "It wouldn't do for you to have like a Career-sized ego. That would just lead to you dying really stupidly."

I nod. "In all seriousness, thanks for the advice."

"...was that sarcastic?"

"No, it actually wasn't."

"...was that sarcastic?"

"Let's just move."

The two of us move quietly through the woods. We've discovered a system for making as little noise as possible when necessary. I call it: not being an idiot. The system involves not stepping on branches if possible, not talking loudly to one another, not stopping to see what strange noises are, running AWAY from any tributes who we don't have at least a 90% chance of beating. Survival is key here, and the kills should be kept to a minimum.

Especially considering how our one kill so far, Gwen, caused Trent to snap.

Strangely enough, the Games haven't been any more than I can handle. Of course, without Izzy's help, I would have been dead already. I probably would have survived at the very latest to when Leshawna and Gwen attacked us. But other than that...the running has been okay after I got used to it, I've survived to the final nine, and I have a steady alliance that should get me far. All in all, these Games wouldn't be too bad if I didn't keep getting nightmares about dying, or some of the more gruesome deaths we've witnessed, such as Harold's.

The chameleon creatures. That was my closest shave. I had no idea what I was doing, and had been counting on Izzy to kill it before it could harm me. It had been a stroke of dumb luck that I'd figured out how they operated. It was not a pleasant experience, staring death in the face. In fact, I rather was about to piss myself.

My mind drifts to the nine sets of parents back home, rooting for their children and cursing the others. Then I imagine the parents of the tributes who have already died. Then Gwen's parents. Do they hate us? Do they loathe us for taking their daughter away?

In all honesty, I'll probably never know.

District 2

Heather POV

Would Eva have been missed, had she died yesterday during the earthquake? I suppose I'd become friends with her. There are only three Careers left out of nine tributes, so I probably would have been the only one to miss her if she had died. Alejandro wouldn't have cared. The other tributes would only have seen it as a powerful threat out of the way.

As for Bridgette and DJ, well, I couldn't care less whether they died of their wounds or by Nightlock. Alejandro overreacted on that front. If Eva wanted to give them an honorable death, then she succeeded, but they're dead regardless. They were talking about how the Capitol was the true enemy...and I suppose that's true, but really, parroting it around wasn't going to do anything for you. Tomfoolery disguised as bravery in my humble opinion. We're down to the final nine thanks to them, so I guess that was one good thing that came out of it.

We went back for our supplies after the earthquake was over, but we decided that we weren't going to hang around the Cornucopia any longer. It would only draw more people to us. We need to go on the attack. Noah, Izzy, Cody, Sierra, Courtney, and Trent are the remaining tributes to kill. Not counting Eva and Alejandro, but I'm trying not to count them right now. I'm friends with Eva and Alejandro is...complicated, and I'd prefer to push him aside for now.

The three of us move through the woods. We're trying to figure out what happened with the whole earthquake thing, apart from fallen trees and the like. SOMETHING happened, and we're trying to figure out what. Nothing more. Nothing less. Stab a few tributes along the way. Are Bridgette and DJ missed? Because they're quote "nice?" Does that qualify whether a person is mourned for after their deaths? My hallucination from the chameleon mutts has come back to the forefront of my line lately. As the numbers dwindle down more and more, the more I seem to lose sight of why I keep going.

"We'll keep moving until nightfall. If we don't run into anyone, we don't run into anyone," Alejandro affirms.

"Sounds good enough to me," Eva sighs.

"What, having second thoughts, Eva?"

"I told you, they didn't deserve to bleed out slowly. I just helped them along the way."

Alejandro laughs at this. "They die either way. Why should you care?"

"Why should you?"

I ignore their argument, instead picking up on the faintest sound of footsteps from somewhere around us. I try to zero in on it, but their argument is cutting into my hearing.

"Guys, be quiet," I groan quietly. "I think I hear something. Or someone."

Alejandro's eyes widen momentarily before nodding in recognition, and supposedly continues his argument. Eva moves closer to where I point, although the sound of the person is now gone, and continues arguing with Alejandro, but only as a ruse. The three of us may have our bickering, but we're in tune now because there's someone for us to hunt, and hopefully bring things down to the final eight.

"You're an imbecile for endangering yourself for those two...pacifists!" Alejandro yells, although his eyes are shifting around readily and his sword is on his hilt. Eva growls, and there's a distinct sound of a branch snapping.

Eva immediately turns and peers behind the trees. There's a scream, and Eva flings Courtney out into the open. I'm satisfied to see that her nose has not healed, and that she is covered in mud and bleeding profusely from the ankle. She whimpers pitifully, and Alejandro chuckles.

"Courtney! What a delightful surprise! What brings you here?"

Courtney growls, but winces in pain as she tries to rise to her feet and fails. "You...guys...fuck...you..."

"I've heard worse," Eva shrugs. "How's the broken nose treating you? Got a leg to match, huh?"

"I guess you're gonna kill me now, huh? I suppose it was only a matter of time."

Alejandro unsheathes his sword. "You couldn't have run from us forever. I'd like to do the honors, if that's alright with you guys."

"Fine by me," I yawn.

"It seems you guys are just as dysfunctional as ever. Still have a crush on Alejandro, Heather?" I wince, and Courtney smirks defiantly. "I'll have you know that-"

Alejandro brings his blade down on her neck, and the cannon sounds immediately. Alejandro lets out an audible sigh of relief. "That was refreshing. See, Eva? A quick death. I suppose you're happy."

He yawns, and dusts himself off casually. "Okay. Let's get a move on."

Al completely ignores what remains of Courtney, and the three of us move on callously. Are we really that cold? Well, at least he didn't torture them this time...

"That was surprisingly quick," I comment. "So we're in the final eight, huh? It doesn't really feel like it..."

"Final eight is good, but I'll celebrate when we hit the final five," Eva grunts.

Alejandro shrugs noncommittally in response, but it seems to me that he's fully intending for Eva to be dead by then.

"Let's just get a move on. We have five more tributes to kill, and a limited time to do so."

It doesn't feel like Courtney's dead, because of how quick it was. All she'd done...just evaporated. Alejandro just finished her off with a degree of CONTEMPT.

Like I said, at the very least, he killed her quickly.

The song Trent was singing is "Fear of a Blank Planet" by Porcupine Tree. I was listening to it while writing and just ended up throwing it in there. There were also a couple of references to other media, shouldn't be too hard to catch. And enter Max! Our second PI character. I can't say how important he'll end up being, so for now I just leave you with the scores.

9. Courtney

Last Words: "It seems you guys are just as dysfunctional as ever. Still have a crush on Alejandro, Heather? I'll have you know that-"

Reasoning:

It was originally supposed to be Trent that went here, as a joke. But a few things happened that changed that. Firstly, Trent's character grew beyond that of what I originally intended. Second, I'd backed Courtney into a corner and couldn't find a way to get her out. So I ended up switching Courtney and Trent's places. Also, for clarification, Courtney was deliberately insulting the Careers so they would get it over with faster. She wasn't being an idiot.

Sorry to all Courtney fans.

10. Bridgette

11. DJ

12. Duncan

13. LeShawna

14. Gwen

15. Harold

16. Justin

17. Geoff

18. Tyler

19. Beth

20. Owen

21. Katie

22. Sadie

23. Ezekiel

24. Lindsay

See you all next time!