District 8

Nell

Wanting to squeeze every second out of my time in the Training Center, I am the last one to enter the Mess Hall. The tables are already filled with various groups of tributes. Some try to isolate themselves at the corners while others have their heads close in discussion. A prickle of worry creeps up my spine.

Seeing some of them already strategizing is a cause for concern. I am from District 8: Textiles. I am not Career material according to Diamond, otherwise, she would have already approached me. The thought annoys me because I consider myself a hard-worker. When the going gets tough, I get tougher. I'm not one to quit easily.

I'm no small fry either; hauling 100 lb crates from truck to truck and pallet to pallet have made it more tedious for me to fit through a doorway. My shoulders had to widen to accommodate all the extra muscle. Admittedly, I am not as tall as Baer or Kaiden or at their girth, but I wouldn't count myself out in a one-on-one.

"You trying for an impression of a pillar?" A voice startles me from my thoughts.

Behind me stands Gadget, the girl from District 2. Biting into an apple, I can hear its crispness as her teeth dig in. Chewing, she eyes me with scrutiny.

"What district are you from again? You look like a guy from my area," she points out, taking another bite, the sweet juice washing over her lip.

"District 8," I answer curtly. Is she scouting me?

Surprise crosses her face. I guess having anyone in peak physical shape outside the Career districts is unheard of.

"District 8? No way. How'd you-" Gadget fumbles for words, looking like she found a unicorn. "You secretly born in District 1 or something?"

I shake my head. "No."

I make the mistake of turning my head and meeting the scrutiny of cyan. Kaiden glowers at me and I am confused for a moment. Then I realize how close Gadget is standing to me as we talk.

"What?" Gadget blinks, wondering why I'm making that face.

Bewildered, I glance at Kaiden again and he's turned away talking to the tiny boy from District 10, Felix, I think. Is there something going on between Kaiden and Gadget?

I could have sworn that was a venomous look of jealousy. Something I had yet to see from Kaiden, so it came as a shock. It is difficult to know if I saw what I saw because it was gone in an instant. Gadget might have more allies than she realizes…

"Nothing," I mutter quickly, but she doesn't look convinced.

However, before she can say anything else, Diamond hovers behind her. Those blue eyes are cold as ice as they focus in on me. It's a silent warning that I'm not allowed. District 8 is for seamstresses not fighters in her mind.

"Gadget, we have a meeting, remember?" points out Diamond, turning to the girl in question.

For a moment, I worry Gadget is going to throw a tantrum and refuse to go. The scrunching of her nose shows her disdain. It doesn't take a genius to understand she is not fond of Diamond. However, both girls are from Career districts, so it's only natural they will want to team up to pick off the weaklings during the Games.

"Ugh, fine." Gadget matches Diamond's pace back to the table crowded with so much muscle, I'm expecting it to break any moment.

Ping.

Hand to my hair, I wonder what hit me.

Ping.

This time, I turn and a pea bounces off my cheek. Who the h*ll…?

In a sea of brown and blonde, his fiery hair stands out like the first tree of Fall. When our eyes meet, he grins. Glancing between the tables, I take note of how Reed is not sitting at the Careers table. No way. Did they not invite him? But he's from District 4 and he's TWO victors' son no less. He's practically bred for this.

Realizing he's waving me over, I hesitantly approach his table. He's not alone: Catherine, his district partner, sits next to him. I notice the way he sneaks a hand to rest on the small of her back. Almost like he's claiming what's his. Does he like her?

Alice shifts to make room for me to join their little group. What is the pregnant girl from District 3 doing here? On that note, why am I here? What is Reed plotting?

"You looked a little lost, Nelly. I thought I'd give you some guidance," explains Reed, his gaze approving as I sit down.

"Here." He tosses me an apple. "Best to keep those teeth pearly~"

"Um, thanks." I end up splitting their meals and while I eat, I notice how relaxed Reed seems. Catherine and Alice both have their own levels of anxiety. Alice rubs her swollen belly out of habit, when she's feeling uncomfortable with a thought. Catherine seems conflicted on whether she wants to try pressing closer to Reed or remaining a respectful distance away. The redness in her cheeks makes me convinced at the very least she has an infatuation with Reed if not the other way around.

As we eat, I cannot help but wonder: Why am I here?

District 4

Catherine

Even I am not sure why Reed has called Nell over here. I know nothing of what tumbles around in that head of his. All I can do is trust that Reed has a recipe for victory and he's cooking up some alliances.

Picking at my carrots, I risk a peek at him. He's grinning at Nell, but I still flush. The way he smiles reminds me of a tiger: dangerous, sly, irresistibly charming. It's all too easy to see the popular, womanizing Finnick Odair in him. Not only in his hair, but the curve of his lips, the hypnotic pull of his sea-green eyes, the-

Oh no. He's looking at me!

"You've been staring at me a lot, KitCat. Something on your mind?" he points out, fingers dancing under my chin to gently hold my jaw.

I can't look away as much as I desperately want to. He caught me staring! How humiliating!

"I….I, um…." Clearing my throat, I try again. "I was wondering why we're not with the Careers?"

Nell looks up sharply like he had been wondering the same thing. Alice tries to hide her interest, yet is clearly listening.

Reed's eyes go around the table, meeting everyone's gazes. His smile is like a sleepy cat's that has no worries beyond which window has the warmest napping spot.

"Who says there can't be two Career packs?" He tilts his head curiously.

My jaw drops. That is what he's planning? To build a rival pack to the traditional powerhouse team known as the Careers?

"Reed, are you trying to start a war in the Arena?!" I gasp.

"No. I'm merely looking after my own. Those people don't value life. If they did, they wouldn't be so eager to paint our blood all over their walls. If these Games have taught my family anything it's that we can lose everything we care about in an instant," he argues.

A jolt of electricity sparks up my arm as I feel his fingers slide over mine. What…..What does this mean? Is he….Can he be…? Is he merely teasing me again or is he being serious?

Am I…..Could I be someone he cares about?

No, he's already switching to Nell and Alice. Yet, his hand lingers. It feels like our secret hidden on the bench space between us. I'm worried Nell or Alice knows, but I know they cannot see our hands from their angle. However, my blush probably does not hide it well...

"But Reed…..there can only be one victor," points out Alice and our table goes silent.

Even Nell stops chewing for a moment as every crunch sounds like an avalanche of sound. I'm aware of my heartbeat in my ears.

For the first time, Reed looks troubled, almost frustrated as he picks at his plate with his fork. Scratching the ceramic, he sucks on the inside of his cheek in thought. Suddenly, I realize something: Reed is acting with a rebel's mindset. He's trying to protect tributes, save people in a game designed by the Capitol to kill all but one. It's noble, but he cannot honestly believe he'll succeed, right?

"Hey, maybe I'm trying to make this year's Games interesting. Offing the supposed 'strongest' of us tributes and letting real skill determine the rest," shrugs Reed.

"Or maybe you're trying to make the rest of us easy pickings after we overthrow the Careers," mutters Nell.

Attention snapping to him, I notice even he seems surprised he said anything. Nervously, I turn back to Reed, worried he'll be outraged by Nell's outburst. Imagine my bewilderment, when I see him prop his chin on the table and smile over his hands.

"If I wanted to kill everyone, there wouldn't be anyone to play in the Games~" he counters with an ominous purr.

Another first today: I bear witness to how scary Reed truly can be. Confronted with the futility of his ideals, he advances like a tiger on a helpless goat. I get the sense if Reed is backed into a corner, it will only turn him more vicious.

I make a mental note to stay on his good graces. Nell stays quiet and Alice nibbles anxiously at a honeybun. I'm sorry, Reed, but you can't save everyone.

District 7

Baer

"What do you think we should do?"

I angle my ear towards Emmeline next to me: a small sign I'm listening. Like I suspected, she picks up on it easily. It's rather unnerving how little eludes her.

"Come on, Baer, I know you have an opinion," she insists.

Ignoring her, I reach for the gleaming ax on the wall. Testing its weight in my hands, I find it sturdily built and heavy enough to carry good momentum when swung. I wonder what kind of weapons will be in the Cornucopia this year. What quality will they be? Will there even be an ax? Setting the ax in my hands back on the rack, I study the nearest glistening weapons. If I cannot get an ax, what will I use instead? A sword? No, it must be something with a curved blade, one that can cut deeper with the force carried in my swing…

A machete?

"Baer." The impatience in her voice makes my head turn.

"You do what you want. What does it matter what I do?" I mumble, getting distracted by the blades again.

"Baer, I'm sticking with you. You're…..familiar. We're from the same district. These people, these….Careers are wildcards. I don't trust Diamond as far as I can throw her, but she's made an offer and a choice has to be made," explains Emmeline, playing with some kind of spinning blade she picked up off a hook.

"I don't trust them either," I snort in agreement.

Still, Diamond and her pack of wolves had extended an invitation. However, what Emmeline is leaving out is the fact Diamond approached me, not her. What she won't say is that if I reject Diamond's offer, Emmeline stands no chance of ganging up with the Careers.

"Great, let's tag along with them for now then. We can keep on eye on them and study their methods of attack, so when they turn on us, we'll be ready," suggest Emmeline, determined.

Staring down my nose at her, I am appalled by how dense she is. What is with all this 'we' stuff? What makes her think we're going to be partners in this?

"Baer." I look at her. "We have to accept. We have to learn all we can. They've had advanced training, but we cannot allow them to keep the advantage. Just….play along for a while, okay? We're gonna win this, alright~?"

What is with that sparkle in her eyes? Did she miss the rule about only having ONE victor? What happened with Katniss and Peeta is never happening again. The Gamemakers would never allow it. Anything Katniss did is taboo now. Ever since, the Capital has been on edge. The Gamemakers have taken what they think are extra precautions against a third rebellion. Something tells me that a third rebellion would be the magic number. One more and the Capitol is finished. The cracks are already showing in their flawless image.

"Baer, are you gonna try or not?" asks Emmeline.

I stare into her caramel eyes for a long time. I see determination, stubbornness, and a hint of fear. She's not ready to trust these people, but she wants to team up with them anyway. Ugh, why do girls have to be so complicated? Why won't she say what she's really thinking?

"No promises," I grunt, tearing my gaze away.

Staring at her too long makes the words lodge in my throat. She's not my friend, but she is right about one thing: she's familiar. If she wants to join the Careers, I will follow. However, I won't hesitate to gut any of them. They are mutual allies at best. Diamond and her hyenas are a stone's throw from me axing them. Only for Emmeline will I stay my hand….for now.

"I suppose we better have a chat with Diamond."

District 9

Milly

"Hold still."

Caz plays his part and pretends to be bleeding ketchup all over the mat as I gather materials. Studying the broad leaf in my hand, I eye his arm thoughtfully. Slapping the leaf on, I wonder what to tie it with. Caz's deep blue eyes watch me with all the excitement of a sloth. Fidgeting, he grows restless.

"Stop moving. You're supposed to be bleeding out remember?" I scold him, skinning the leaves off a plant until I can use the flexible stem as rope.

"I never knew bleeding out could be so boring," mutters Caz, yawning, "Can I play with the shiny things on the weapon's rack yet~?"

"No." Caz deflates at my answer.

Weaving a knot, I sit back to study my handiwork. "How's that?"

"Huh? Oh, sorry. I died because you took too long," shrugs Caz, flopping down on the mat.

Frowning, I punch his arm.
"Ow!" he yelps.

I smirk.

Rubbing his arm, Caz shoots me an annoyed look. I don't bother to hide my amusement. Besides, he knows I'm playing~ To irk him further, I reach over and ruffle his hair until it curls up at odd angles. Growling, he smacks my hand away.

"Hey! I thought you were dead," I point out, grinning.

"I decided I'm a zombie now and I'm gonna eat your braaaaains-" he slurs mockingly as he lurches forward to grab at my scalp.

Gasping, I fall backwards and roll away from him. Giggling, I get up and run away from Caz and his outstretched arms. He lumbers towards me with a fake limp and I try to act scared, but I can't stop smiling. This is too much fun~

Ducking, I dodge his lunge and grab a medkit from the first aid station. Ripping it open, I dump out the contents and start scooping them up to chuck at him. Half my projectiles-cottonballs, tweezers, athlete's tape-miss him entirely. Others, like rolls of gauze, smack him in the chest and bounce off harmlessly.

"Oh no, I'm gonna get eaten by the world's shortest zombie!" I tease, taking measured steps to stay just outside his reach.

"Braaaaains," moans Caz, swiping at me.

I feel his fingers catch on my hair for a moment and feel the sting of a few hairs coming loose as I dart away.

"Ahem."

Suddenly, we both skid to a halt and exchange a look. Then we slowly swivel around to see our mentor standing behind us with a disapproving gaze. Caz's smile drops away and I rub the back of my neck sheepishly.

"This is not a playground. Whether you are ready to face the truth or not, you cannot change the facts; one of you is not coming back. This is real. Those that die on that screen, die for real," points out Matthieu, our mentor.

His voice is like cold steel. Us horsing around must have been of some great offense to him. Or is he bitter for another reason?

"Milly, come with me. I'm training you first. Caz, you've been benched." Matthieu gestures to me and I obediently step closer.

If my mentor has something to teach me privately, I better listen and watch. I try not to think about how he might teach me how to make Caz bleed out for real…

Following Matthieu around the Training Center, I run through predictions of where he'll stop. Each time we pass a station, I sigh. Not that one, it seems. Finally, we park our feet at the wild game station. A burly man without sleeves twirls a stained cleaver and chops a bass's head clean off.

Chop.

I wince at the sound of the blade against the cutting board.

"You want me to learn how to flay a fish?" I question, covering my nose at the overwhelming stench of fish.

"No. I wanted to talk," answers Matthieu, easing himself onto a bench.

His leg must be bothering him…

"That boy, Caz," he swings his eyes over at the 13-year-old scraping the leaf off his arm.

I follow his gaze and then turn back to him.
"What about him?" I ask, warily. Is there something about Caz that I don't know?

"He likes you."

"Well, yeah. We're from the same district and I see him around-" He cuts me off.

"No, not as friends. He likes you. He's not the first tribute to have those sappy, puppy-dog eyes. To that boy, you're his whole world. Now, I suppose you could work that to your advantage in the Arena. I can't see that boy ever betraying you. However, I'm not so sure the same could be said for you," explains Matthieu.

I'm suddenly aware of his eyes analyzing every twitch of the finger, every shift in my expression. What is he implying?

"What's your relationship with that boy?" I am unprepared for the question.

Sucking my teeth, I try to think. Caz isn't a stranger, but I can't say we're very close either. I like him well enough, but do I know him? Not really. H*ll, I didn't even know he had a crush on me until now. Shows how good of a reader I am.

"I don't know. We're friends, I guess," I shrug.

"Then you have a choice: take advantage of him or set him straight. As long as he's infatuated with you, he doesn't stand a chance in that Arena. Lovers never win. Not even Katniss and Peeta," he points out, his jaw set.

And neither did you. I add mentally.

"Okay, I'll make sure he knows," I mutter, yet it's as I'm walking back to Caz that the doubts creep in.

What if I don't want Caz to stop loving me?

District 6

Spinelli

Kathunk.

Winding up his arm, Helion releases a hailstorm of steel upon the target boards. The shuriken hack up the posters and splinters fly with every hit. His body is loose to be able to whip those silver stars like that, yet his face is tense. The District 1 boy seems to be conflicted about something.

Diamond, on the other hand, watches with careful scrutiny. I almost catch the tiniest flicker of approval in her stance. Her district partner is proving his skill so far.

Chink. Kathunk.

Watching them hog all the practice ranges irks me to no end. The way Diamond stands like she's already won, how Helion shreds the targets with ease, even the way Hero swings a sword and takes off a dummy's head pisses me off. A familiar itch tingles at the back of my skull. I cannot let this slide. I cannot stand here idle as these Careers show off. I may be from District 6, but I have skills too. I should show these brats what a winner looks like.

Marching up to the practice range, I shove past Diamond despite her sharp complaints. I shove Helion out of the way as he's about to throw. For the first time, he misses because I jostled his aim. Oops~

"Hey! Get out of here, Stick Legs! This was mine!" hisses Helion, trying to shove back.

I elbow him in the ribs. We're about the same height because he's so young. I don't remember his age. Fourteen? Anyways, I hit my mark, and he jumps away clutching his side.

"Go ahead and try that again, train girl. I'm not afraid to break rules to break you," he snarls, obviously pissy because I hurt him.

Maybe having pointy elbows is an advantage~?

"Sorry, Shorty, but your time's up," I sneer, not afraid to meet his red-hot glare.

Anytime someone tries to prove their skill, I get the uncontrollable urge to best that skill. Sure, maybe I gamble the odds when I shouldn't, but you can't score big if you don't risk big.

Checking out the tables and racks of glistening weapons, I find something that interests me: thin, narrow spikes not unlike needles. Plucking one from its holster, I twirl it around my fingers. To really annoy them, I add several more and twirl them all at once to emphasize how nimble my fingers are.

Helion folds his arms and huffs yet doesn't interfere. Diamond watches emotionless. She's not gonna tell me what she thinks yet.

Switching my focus to the sheets of wood, I hold my breath aiming at the center ring. Flicking my wrists, I unleash a torrent of darts and like rain hitting glass, they stick to the surface. Nearly all of them hit the central three rings. Smugly, I turn to see the Careers' reactions.

Helion is fuming while Hero finally notices I'm over here. Baer barely even glances this way; he's too absorbed in whatever his district partner is saying. Diamond, on the other hand, is almost….smiling? What does she find so amusing?

"You practice that a lot?" she finally asks.

"What? Throwing things? Yeah. And I'm pretty darn good at it~" I answer, smirking.

With an arrogant toss of my hair, I relish my moment of sweet victory. They're all obviously jealous of my perfect aim now, so that means I win. Yesh, another victor for Spinelli~

"You think you're Career good?" inquires Diamond, a decision rising in her eyes.

"No. I'm better," I say to piss her off.

Instead, she crosses her arms and grins like a sly lioness.

"We can't have someone better than the Careers. You best join us," she offers, seemingly genuine.

I know she only wants to keep my close and in her sight at all times, but right now, it doesn't matter. I'm in with the Careers.

District 6 for the win.

Warden Frost-likely named for his frosted-blue hair-calls for a final check-in.

I scoff at the requirement to line up like little school children but take my place besides Kaiden, my district partner.

"A final word before you're all dismissed to your quarters: tomorrow are the Private Sessions. You will all meet here and may train as usual. Or you can sleep the whole day away," Warden Frost shoots Caz a look, "Throughout the day, your names will be called to step into a seperate room. Weapons, plants, ropes, and whatever materials you wish to use will already be prepared for you. It is entirely up to you, what you will show the Gamemakers. We'll go in numerical order of the districts with males going before their district females. So that means Helion will start first thing tomorrow with his private session. I suggest you all get a good night's rest, eat a hearty breakfast, and be prepared to put on a show."

Ugh, I suddenly hate being in District 6. I'm almost smack dab in the middle of the order. How am I supposed to impress the Gamemakers if I'm not the first tribute to do something? If someone else throws knives and I go in there and throw knives, it won't matter about my skill. The Gamemakers will yawn because they've already seen it. At least I'm not Electra. Being the District 13 female tribute means she's dead last. No pun intended. She can only hope the Gamemakers are still there and didn't go home to nap…

"Any questions?" Warden Frost scans our faces, but no one speaks up.

Ninety-one games prior to this and I'm pretty sure we all know how the Games works at this point.

"Then you're all dismissed. The Training Center is now closed for the day. Sleep well~"

He's not even finished speaking and everyone is already marching towards the elevators. I take record of the other tributes: some are moving like their whole body aches, others swing their hips like they're Panem's gift to the world, and the rest move with a reserved anxiousness.

Nobody knows for sure who will win this year.

I'm betting it's me.

(A/N: I hope I gave enough hints for what kind of alliances are building so far amongst the tributes. I'm also trying to balance the screentime each tribute gets, but sometimes that is difficult because certain tributes help me advance the story. Some tributes are also easier for me to write than others, so I may make them longer without realizing it till afterwards. The next chapter will likely be split in two parts with the first being Day 3 of Training, and the second focused on their private sessions. I will try to give every tribute's session details, so everyone knows what skills they have before the Games officially begin. After that, the interviews are the last obstacle before we get to the Games. Exciting~ )