Kendra

Stars were Kendra's friends. They shined brightly in the dark. Back home in Four, they were so easy to spot, littering the sky brightly. Kendra could spend all night long lying on her back and watching them twinkle at her. Here in the Capitol, it was more difficult. There were too many other bright lights that prevented the real stars from shining brightly. By this time, District Four was usually in bed with lights out and dreaming of all the fish they would catch in the morning. But the Capitol was awake all night long.

The rooftop was empty. It had been jumping with activity the last few nights, but now, nobody. Only Kendra. Everyone else had retreated to their rooms to prepare for the Games the next day. But not Kendra. She didn't need to. What happened would happen. And nothing she did would change the fact. The stars had already decided her fate. Sure, she didn't know what that was yet, but soon enough she would find out, and she would accept that.

Footsteps behind her made her turn around. A wide smile crept up on her face when she saw Roan. She wasn't sure what it was about him. But he always made her feel good inside. She wished that she had Keitha to talk to. Her best friend would understand like the other tributes wouldn't. Maybe that was why she liked Roan. Because Roan always told her exactly what was up. He never sugar coated things, but he wasn't exactly mean about it either. He didn't have a secret agenda like Tallulah did. Tallulah was a back stabber. Castiel was quiet but deadly, and Tory could just be an idiot sometimes.

And he was just a God. Like, seriously. She was going to miss him when he finally croaked. Because she was from Four, and there was no way the fates would let a non Career from Ten outlive her.

"I'm going to miss this," Kendra said as she curled up next to him. There was no answer from him. She nudged him in the side. "Well?"

"Well what?" He asked.

"Aren't you going to miss me too?"

"Kendra, you're an idiot sometimes." Roan pushed her away from him, and she watched with a dropped jaw as he walked away without a single glance back at her.

She wanted to be upset. Because he had just rejected her. But instead she took a deep breath and fought the tears. That was that. The stars had spoken and they weren't meant to be. It would be okay. Obviously Kendra didn't need him to win this thing.

She looked down at the Capitol. In just a few hours, they'd be looking down at her. Watching as she fought for her life. And they'd enjoy it. Just as much as she was enjoying watching that skinny little stick of a girl puke on her shoes because she drank too much. It was hard to get liquor that wasn't a sardine flavored brew, so Kendra doubted she could even drink one can before having to puke it out.

In the distance, the sun was starting to rise. In a few hours, her mentor was going to come wake her up to get ready for the Games. Kendra wasn't tired. In fact, she was wide awake. But it wouldn't hurt to get a few hours of shut eye. Kendra left the rooftop and went down to the Fourth floor. She didn't run into a single tribute on her way.

The bed was soft and looked very comfortable. It was practically beckoning to her. Kendra gave in and sank into the bed. It was as if she had barely closed her eyes before the door barged open and she was rudely awoken.

"Come on dear, up and at'em. The sun is shining, the rooster is crowing, and it's time to get you dressed and stuffed like a turkey."

"But I don't wanna go to school today. I wanna stay home and bake cookies with you," Kendra said sleepily, her eyes still half closed. The covers that were protecting her from the strong current of the air conditioning disappeared. She curled up into a ball to keep warm. Then the pillow that was supporting her head was pulled out from underneath her. Kendra flopped onto her stomach, only to be pulled off the bed. She fell with a thud to the floor.

"No time for games today, Kendra."

"Well…actually-" She began, only to cut herself off by the fierce look she was getting. "Right, I'm getting in the shower now."

The shower, like it had been for the past few days, was marvelous, and Kendra had trouble turning the water off. But there were just so many different fun options to choose from. So many different scents of soap. In the end she decided to go with honeysuckle. Lately all the arenas had been outside in the wild. She wouldn't stand out as much with a floral scent. Besides, honeysuckle was oddly soothing and it smelled good.

"Ooh, you stink. You can't go in the arena smelling like that."

And with that announcement, Kendra found herself being dragged out of the room and down the hall to where her prep team was waiting for her. They jumped at the chance to get to work on her.

"Take it easy guys, there's no need to impress the audience now. We have to be practical."

"What is the outfit this year?"

"I don't know, remember? They always keep it locked up in a box and I don't even get to see it 'til I get her to the launch room."

Kendra listened as the prep team and stylist bantered about and got her ready. Kendra closed her eyes and let her thoughts take over. She wondered what life would be like if she did miraculously win. She'd be rich, she'd have money so her sister wouldn't have to live in poverty anymore. It was tiring living with her crackhead mother and her overprotective father. If she won, she'd be on her own. Well….kinda. She remembered the last time someone won from Four. It had been a seventeen year old guy, and all of his "relatives" came out of the woodwork as soon as he was pronounced the victor. She'd make a good victor. Living in the fancy neighborhood in the nice houses among all the other victors. She'd be living near Pontus's family. Hmm… that might be awkward. Cause that would mean that Pontus was dead. But it didn't seem like Pontus's father liked his son very much.

It felt like forever before it was decided that she was ready.

"Come on sweetie. Let's get on the hovercraft and go to our destination."

Kendra got into the hover craft, the windows let in a steady stream of air, and soon they were off to an unknown place. Kendra watched as the landscape changed to reflect where they were. She tried to figure out what the arena was going to be. Would it be ocean? Desert? A forest? So many different options. So many unknowns. She closed her eyes and whispered soft prayers to the stars, asking them to watch over her.

If they didn't, then who would?

Albacore

The windows in the hovercraft blacked out about an hour after getting on board. That meant that they were close. None of the tributes were supposed to know what the arena was going to be like until they all exploded out of the earth and stood on their plates.

"You okay?" His stylist, Chimey, asked. Albacore didn't know why the tributes went to the arena with their stylist instead of their mentor. Probably because some Districts, like his own, only had one. And one person couldn't be in two places at once. Well, there had only been 32 other Games, and most of the time, a tribute from One, Two, or Four won, the lower (or would it be higher, Albacore didn't know why they called the higher numbers the lower Districts) hardly ever won, and they were lucky if they had two winners. In fact, Twelve had just gotten their first victor last year. For the previous years, they didn't have a mentor and their Stylists had stood in. Which was okay, because most of them died in the blood bath anyway. Although, maybe if they had someone qualified mentoring, then they could make it past the first day. But that was neither here nor there.

"Just fine," Albacore responded, reaching down to scratch his itching foot. It had started acting up this morning as if it knew that the crutches were going to be taken away and Albacore would have to walk on the foot himself. It'll be okay. He tried to give himself a pep talk, but the fear in his stomach wouldn't subside. It's not like he hadn't been in danger like this before. It's not like he had never feared for his life. There were some mornings, when his Uncle Lucas was particularly bad off, that Albacore thought Lucas was going to kill them all. It's just morning time at the house, he tried to soothe himself. That's all it is. Just have to run from Lucas, and I'm safe.

His leg throbbed, letting him know that it would be next to impossible to run as fast as he was used to. At least he had talked his mentor into letting him take a shitload of painkillers first. Maybe he wouldn't feel as much pain once the medicine began to kick in. Well, at least he could hope. He was still cursing his Uncle for breaking his foot right before the reapings. But his pain didn't matter, only his two cousins and his little sister's safety. And if he could guarantee that, then a broken bone wasn't going to stop him.

The hovercraft began to lower. He knew because his stomach flopped as if it was on a boat being tossed about an angry sea.

"We're almost there," Chimey said. "I think we went pretty far this year. Last year the ride was less than an hour long."

That thought didn't exactly comfort him, but at the same time, it just meant there was more distance between him and the Capitol. And hey, maybe it even put him closer to District 6 and his sister. That helped him a tad bit.

It didn't take long before Albacore was slowly dragging his foot through the tunnels underneath the arena. They had made him leave his crutches in the Hovercraft, and he could already tell that this was going to be problematic. It was slow going down the various empty tunnels. Just Chimey and him. They didn't run into a single other person. Lights flickered, lighting the path, and Chimey eventually stopped at the room that said "District 6 Male."

"This is our stop," Chimey said as he put his thumb on the scanner and the lock clicked. The room wasn't huge, but there was enough space for a couch, a table filled with food and a pitcher of water, and the famous plate that would shoot him up to the arena. There was a box lying on the coffee table that had Albacore's name on it. "That's your outfit."

After helping Albacore sit down on the couch, Chimey undid the twining around white box. "This isn't that bad of an outfit. I've seen worse." He held up a black and white stripped cotton t-shirt-

"Stripes? Like a prison shirt?" Albacore made a face.

-And a pair of slacks to match the shirt, accompanied by tennis shoes with velcro instead of laces.

"You know, you can tell a lot about the arena just by the outfit you are given. Since this is cotton, I am almost certain that there will not be an ocean or any big body of water, and probably won't be much rain either. Because rain and cotton don't mix. Since these are pants instead of shorts, you'll probably have to watch out for bushes and plants. The shoes indicate that there will be a lot of walking, but not much hiking. There probably won't be any sand," Chimey said.

"That shoe isn't going to fit," Albacore said, "my foot is still swollen up."

"It's an adjustable shoe. We'll get it on."

And of course, they did. Chimey went on about some of the other tributes whom he had been a stylist for. "One year, I had a girl from Six, Marianna, you might remember her-"

"Yes, I do-"

"- it was only three years ago," Chimey continued as if Albacore hadn't interrupted. "She hated the color orange-"

"-so that's why everything was orange that year."

"Quit interrupting me," Chimey scolded. "So to mess with her, the Gamemakers gave everyone an orange jumpsuit and painted all the tree trunks in the arena orange. She was a sweet girl, but a tad crazy if you know what I mean."

"So what'll you say about me to the tributes next year?"

"I'll tell them what an idiot you were for volunteering with a broken foot," Chimey shook his head. "It's definitely not going to help you. You have a disadvantage right off the bat. So run. As soon as that gong sounds, get out of there. Don't stop for any of the sparkling goodies at the Cornucopia. No one will run after you right away, they'll be too distracted by the weapons and the tributes that decided to stay and duke it out. Just get away, find a place to hide, and then focus on getting water. It will be okay if you just play your cards right."

"You're pretty smart for just being a stylist."

"Well, your mentor told me to make sure that you understand that you need to get out of there."

"Prius doesn't trust me, does he?"

"Not particularly." Chimey agreed, "Prius knows you're driven, he's just afraid that you're too reckless and daring. I think he thinks that Lyrah will be District 6's chance this year even though her family doesn't have a great reputation in the games. But maybe she'll be the one to turn the Henley family luck around.

A loud piercing sound came from a box in the corner, "tributes, take your places on the plate."

"That's you, come on." Chimey helped Albacore to the plate. It was painful standing and not being able to lean on the crutches. He tried to put all of his weight onto his non-broken foot but it didn't do much good. "Good luck," Chimey said as a glass dome fell around Albacore, sealing him in tight.

There was a bell and a whoosh and he went flying up to the surface. His last view was of Chimey waving goodbye to him.

Next chapter we venture into the arena! Oh Crap. It's okay Albacore, just get out of the Cornucopia as fast as you can. Fast...hahaha, don't make me laugh Misty. The 60 second countdown chapter is the easiest chapter to write, so guess what? It's already done, beta-ed and ready to post. And let me guess...to get it posted, the readers need to review, right? You got it Albacore, you're so smart. I know! Remember to vote. It might save a tribute. Like me!

*~Misty~*