A/N: Hey everyone! Sorry this hasn't gotten to you sooner. My life has been crazy busy lately. I wanted to get this out to all of you patient people before I go to Chicago (the home of Divergent!) on Monday so I'm sorry if there are any grammar errors or spelling mistakes. Thank you all for being so patient with me!

Shoutouts: dollyluvsya101, kamprincess, sammij96, callygirl08, sweets21, macaronii, tvandbooks3, Iris Molefoursted, Phsco13, klaporte, divergentdandelion, carolinejean, The-Things-I-Think-Of, fourforever, frytjeeeh, and all of the guests who reviewed or favorited or followed my story. I want to send a special shout to the people who stayed up late reading this and/or are new to my fanfic! Welcome aboard!


My necklace glints in the light as we walk. The engraved leaves seem to come alive and swish this way and that as though the wind is really blowing them. I clamp my fist around the necklace and stuff it in my jacket. Pretty things aren't meant for girls who break promises to people they love and shoot people like they're animals. Pretty things aren't meant to have another person's blood on it. I shove the image of the blonde's eyes grazing over just before he died out of my mind. For the next mile all I do is shove. Shove out the image of Zeke lying in the grass pleading me to shoot the boy. Shove away Tobias smiling at me, shove away Uriah crying uncle as I pinned him to the floor, shove shove shove. Those things can't matter to me now. I made my choice; I can't go back. I do let one thought seep in though. I wonder what Tobias would think of my decision. Would he be disappointed and furious or would he be beside me saying I did the right thing? Eventually I push that thought away too.

I focus on the city in front of me. The vast open disappeared a while ago and in its place is the city but I can't tell which sector we're in. The buildings look as tall as ever and they pass by me in a blur. I keep my eyes on the boy in front of me and watch his blonde hair bounce and sway in the light wind. I can tell by the way he is always just about to smile and how he keeps looking back to make sure I'm there he's nice. But he could just as well as be a murder for well as I know him. Just as I'm thinking about how fast I could pin him if he tried to shoot me, he says," You okay back there?"

I nod then realize he can't see me. "Yeah," I tell him," I'm okay."

"You're kinda quiet," He says and I can hear a little bit of concern underneath the joking tone. I feel a pinch of guilt for thinking he could hurt me.

I shrug and he shakes his head smiling.

I suddenly realize, as I look at my surroundings, I recognize the gray buildings and the cracked streets; I used to walk them every day. "Where are we going?" I ask him half-hysterical. I can't go back to a ruined Abnegation and know my parents, who are dead because of me, raised me there.

The boy turns around and raises an eyebrow. "The factionless."

For some reason, this shocks me. The factionless?

I sound about five years old when I ask," Why?"

"There are a lot of people who are looking for you, Tris," The boy says and before I can ask how he knows my name he continues. "Most of them are offering rewards for whoever gets you first." He looks back and makes sure I'm following as he turns right down a street. "Erudite is offering a bottle of the antidote, which would be valuable, except the factionless don't have a use for that because they weren't infected by the illness like the rest of the factions were. However, it would be a great thing to trade for because you could just about get anything you wanted."

"So why don't you just turn me into the Erudite then?" I ask as he leads me down another street.

"Because the factionless are offering something much more valuable," He tells me. He turns around and says," Fake IDs."

Of course. The factionless could belong to any faction with those. That means if he's more drawn to the factionless's award rather than the Erudite's that he's..."You're factionless, aren't you?"

He turns away from me and snaps," That's my business."

I let it be. He's right–it's his business not mine.

We walk in silence for three other streets. Slowly, as if they are evolving and shifting in front of my eyes, the buildings change. The shape of the building is the same as the others but the colors splattering the buildings are what make the buildings come to life. It reminds me of Josephine's apartment in the way the colors drip down the sides of the walls then into each other. The sun puts a candle light glow on the scene, making the colors darker than they actually are. I was always taught the factionless lived under bridges and froze on the street corners in the winter without the blankets the Abnegation gave them. Instead they live in abandoned houses and roam the streets and look in dumpsters for food and clothing. I can't believe I didn't realize it until now.

"They have their own sector," The boy says as if he is reading my mind. "They built it from scraps of plywood and metal and concrete. Incredible, right?"

I nod and wonder how many other things I was wrong about.

The blonde boy stops in front of a house that was bigger than the rest of the houses I saw in the factionless sector. This too is colored with paints but it seems to explode with light. Little bulb lights are strung randomly across the house, some even cross over windows making it look like some sort of beautiful prison. The boy climbs the concrete stairs to the door and I follow him. As I get closer I hear the high- pitched chatter of girls and occasionally a burst of laugher. He holds up a hand to me and I stop on the stair behind him. He knocks on the door. The voices inside reduce to a whisper then stop all together. The blonde knocks again, this time louder, and just when he is about to knock again, the door swings open.

A woman who is a little taller than I am opens the door. Her hair is jet black with the exception of a few gray hairs trying to hide inside her braid that reaches to the middle of her back. She is wearing a blue dress that barely skims the floor and she wears a yellow scarf wrapped unevenly around her neck. She seems bright but the scowl on her face suggests otherwise. She scowls at my guide.

"What are you doing here? I told you never to come when my girls are-" She stops suddenly and her eyes find my face. Her stare is icy cold and I want to slide behind the boy but I straighten my posture and face her instead.

"Who is that?" She says.

"It's her; Tris the Dauntless."

Her eyes widen and she pushes him out of the way. She steps closer to me and then wraps a finger around my chin. She lifts my chin higher and inspects me. Her stare turns into something that scares me more than anything: wanting.

"It's her," she says in awe.

"I told you it was her." The woman moves to grab me and take me inside that strange house but the boy pushes me behind him protectively.

"I want compensation," he grunts and crosses his arms.

The woman huffs. "I don't have it."

"The hell you don't," he argues, his voice rising. "You promised a reward that's even better than Evelyn's. I'll take her to Evelyn right now you you don't give me my damn reward."

The name Evelyn sends a jolt through me, screaming at me that I've heard the name somewhere, but before I can realize where it's gone.

The woman rolls her eyes. "You are something else. I'll go get your stupid card."

She disappears into the house. When the door clicks shut, the boy turns to me. "Listen to me," he begins and the words come out in a rush. "You'll know when to get out. Don't sell your soul."

His words leave me dizzy. What does he mean don't sell your soul? Before I can ask what he means, the woman walks out from the house and thrusts a card into his hand. I get a glimpse of the picture on the card before his hand wraps around it. There's a boy that has the same hair as my guide, blonde and fine, but that is where the resemblance stops. That boy has a gaunt face with budging eyes while the boy standing in front me looks softer and his features don't resemble a man on his death bed. But anyone who would check the IDs wouldn't look that close anyway and if they did he could say he was very sick when he took the picture. Lies are the way to survive in our world now.

The boy shoves it in his jacket pocket and zips it up so that it won't fall out.

He turns around to walk down the stairs, his eyes cast to the ground. Only when he is side by side next to me do his eyes rise. They send a message that says be careful. He walks past me after that and leaves me feeling numb and unsure of what I'm doing. I watch him until he disappears down an alley, his blonde hair glowing in the setting sun.

"Charlie's always been like that," the woman says indifferently. "Determined as bull. He takes after his father." She shakes her head and smiles. "Well, we better get you inside; Show time is soon."

I don't know what she means by show time but I don't ask. I let her take my arm and drag me inside the house.

The inside of the house explodes of color and light just like the outside of the house. Vanity mirrors with bulbs are lit up and illuminating every color in the room. Makeup and elaborate dresses are littering the floor and girls are skittering across the room in heels almost tripping on the unwanted gowns. One girl is brushing her cheeks with some kind of powder and another is smearing lipstick onto her lips and puckering at herself in the mirror. Some are laughing, others are quiet in concentration, and some are fighting over makeup. Two girls in the back are doing each other's hair in tight sausage curls and another girl is slipping on a golden sequin dress that barely reaches to the middle of her thigh. My eyes widen at the scene in front of me. What IS this place?

The jet black haired woman claps her hands to get attention and the girls turn toward her. "Ladies, I would like to introduce you to our new girl." The girl's eyes shift to me and some of them turn back to do their makeup or hair. "She's an exclusive."

Her words swim around in my head but I find no purchase to their meaning. I don't know what exclusive means but it makes the other girls glare at me jealously. I don't know if that is a good thing or a bad thing.

"Ruby," The woman snaps. "I need you to help me get her ready."

A girl with curly brick red hair sighs and pushes herself away from her vanity. She's about the same height as I am but she slips on a pair of sparkly red slippers and suddenly she's towering above me. She glances at me, half-curious and half pity then faces the woman next to me. The woman gives Ruby a fluttering gesture to which Ruby rolls her eyes to and then starts walking away from the mirrors and the girls. Ruby and the woman lead me away from the room full of girls and down a hallway. As soon as we leave, the chatter slowly comes back to life and the clinking sounds of makeup being opened and closed resumes.

Our trio ambles up the stairs and when we get there, I see a long hallway of rooms. Ruby and the woman walk with me down the hallway and I get a peak in some of the rooms. One room is full of red; Red curtains, red pillows and blankets, and red paint. Another room is bathed in black and the next room is doused in a light yellow. Each room expresses a personality specifically to each girl but I can't tell which room belongs to whom yet.

Ruby stops in front of a door that is closed shut. The door is painted black, contrasting with the other doors which are painted white.

"This is your room," The woman says and with that she flings open the door.

If the girls were glaring at me because they knew I'd get this room, then they were right to be jealous. This room is the most beautiful in the entire hall although it is not the most up kept. A crystal chandelier hangs above a four poster bed that is covered in extravagant pillows and a comforter that looks like it is made of silk. A vanity, much like the ones downstairs, sits by a window that is at the right side of the bed. A fireplace burns in the left corner in the room and warms me down to my toes.

"This is your room," the woman says and I don't believe her. "You get ready here and have an exquisite wardrobe to choose from." The woman walks into the room with confidence leaving Ruby and I standing in the threshold. She walks to the left side of the room by the bed and pries open a closet I didn't see at first. Dresses much like the ones I saw the girls trying on downstairs hang on hangers in the closet. I think I see a black one but she closes the closet before I can make sure.

"Every morning at ten am, every girl is to be downstairs to eat breakfast. After that, you can do whatever you'd like until five O'clock which is dinner. If you don't arrive on time, you don't get any. Then at seven, we start to get ready for customers." She smiles at me and I don't like how her smile holds one meaning while her eyes hold another. "And then when nine O'clock rolls around and all of my girls are in their rooms..." She pauses for effect then stage whispers, "it's show time."

Her schedule makes me even more confused. What does she mean they start to get ready for customers? What does she mean by show time? I don't ask anything though and make my face appear like I know what she is talking about. "Any questions?" I shake my head and she smiles. "Good." She walks up to me and places her hands on either shoulder. Her eyes are swirls of blue much like Marcus's making me what to push her away. Her teeth are mostly white with the edges yellow. I don't want to trust her but what choice do I have? She smiles and says, "Welcome to my house of colors."

It doesn't feel welcoming at all.


The woman is giving Ruby instructions with what to do about my makeup and outfit. I zone her out when she talks and instead fiddle with the zipper on my coat. It's the only thing that is familiar here in this place. When the woman leaves, Ruby turns to me and barks," You can stop zipping that up and down." My fingers instantly leave the zipper and return to my sides. Ruby briskly walks over to the vanity and pulls out a drawer. Without her stare, I feel like I can ask her a question. "So is Ruby your real name?" She turns to look at me.

"Why do you want to know?" She snaps and it sounds angry but I know from experience that an angry tone can sound a lot like a defensive wall.

"I guess I'm just curious," I bark back defensively. She has a temper to match her hair but I can also fight back. I'm dauntless; it's in my nature.

"Well, curiosity killed the cat," she says like she's bored even though her eyes say she's anything but. Ruby turns back to the open drawer and pulls out a couple more bottles and brushes before slamming it shut. I sit in the chair before she asks which is rewarded by a filthy look, then say, "To make things clear, I'm not here because I want to me; I'm here because of a trade."

"Most of us are," She says as she starts to unravel my bun. The waves of blonde spill over my shoulders.

"My friend was dying," I explain. "Charlie helped heal him for a trade which just happened to be me." I hold my tongue to prevent myself from revealing any more than I need to.

"Charlie is always looking for a trade," Ruby snorts. "He pretends to be better than the rest of us, but he's not. Charlie and Zach-" her hands still in my hair for a brief moment then continue to rake through my snarls. Like me, she realizes she doesn't want to say much. She clears her throat and moves onto another subject. "Madame gives us all names when we come to her." I assume Madame is the woman with the jet black hair. She's the only one who seems to hold the most power. "Most of the girls are colors but the few she adores she gives them the name of a flower." So her name is a faux. She must not be one of the adored ones since her name is Ruby. Her ice blue eyes click with mine and she says, "She wants you to be a flower."

I should feel honored but I'm filled with dread instead. "Can't I keep my real name?"

To my disappointment, Ruby shakes her head. "When you come here, everything you had before is dust. The sooner you forget about your old life, the better off you'll be."

I nod and pain blossoms in my chest. I close my eyes and Ruby does my hair. Other than the accidental tug of hair, I can't feel a thing. When my eyes are closed I can pretend that I'm back in the Dauntless compound in Christina's apartment. She's smiling at me and saying that I'll look stunning by the time she's done. Her hands are in my hair, puffing it up, and then she's brushing powder on my cheeks and painting my lips and then a voice shatters my daydream. "Open your eyes."

I open them to Ruby standing in the mirror, looking smugly at her work. When she realizes I am looking at her she snaps, "Look at yourself for God's sake. I didn't do all that work for you to stare at me."

I stare at her for a second longer then let my eyes move across the mirror until I find my own eyes. When I see my face, I gasp.

I don't recognize the girl in the mirror. Her hair is in soft waves that ripple down her back and over her shoulders. Her eyes are heavily made up with charcoal colored eye shadow that makes her look like she is something that rose out of the ashes. On the edges of her eyelids glitters a thin line of golden eyeliner. Her cheeks are stained with a pink blush. Only when I raise my hand up to touch my face do I realize that girl is me.

"Pretty amazing, right?"

I look up to see Ruby staring at me like I'm a piece of artwork. In a way, I guess I am.

I can't answer her. I'm not beautiful, I have never been, but I am stunning. And very deadly. Ruby must realize it too because she throws her head back and laughs. It's warm and light, nothing at all like I expected it would be. She puts a hand on my shoulder and leans in, eyes sparkling. "Madame wants a name for you, we'll give her one." She pauses and makes sure that I'm hanging on to her every word. She leans in closer, eyes glittering with her secret, and whispers, "Rhododendron."

The word swirls around in my head, exotic and foreign. Why Rhododendron?

Ruby seems to hear my silent question because she says, "It's considered one of the most stunning flowers in the world. And, more importantly, the most deadly." The meaning dawns on me and, as it does, a smile cracks onto my face. I'm still Tris; I'm still deadly; I haven't lost who I am. Maybe Ruby is just giving me this name because she can't stand Madame but it's still a gift to me nonetheless.

Ruby squeezes my shoulder one more time and then backs away from the vanity. She ambles over to the massive bed and motions for me to sit on it. I scoot out of my chair and move toward her. The lamp on the vanity is providing all the light in the room so when I step out of the light the rest of the room is dim. Ruby's hair looks almost dark purple in the light and it swishes as she moves around the room. I sit on the bed like she asked and listen to the click of shoes and the swish of the clothes in the closet. When she's picking something out in the wardrobe she says," I think Rhododendron is kind of a mouthful, don't you think?" She doesn't wait for my response before replying. "I think I'll just call you Rho."

Rho. Short and sweet; I like it. It doesn't sound like it's up for opinions anyway. Ruby lays some sort of silk in my hand along with a pair of shoes I can't identify in the dim light. I strain my eyes to try and see what the silk is and it looks like it's some kind of dress; a very short dress. "I'm in the red room," She tells me. "You can come in there any time you want. Except after nine." She takes a step back from me and moves toward the door. Just before she's going to walk out she says, "Good night, Tris."

The door clicks shut.

Without Ruby, the room is strangely quiet. It's almost like the room is filled with hot and furious tension even though I'm the only one in the room. Now that it's quiet, I can hear the muted chatter coming from downstairs. The voices are feathery but loud and I hear one girl's laughter ring above the rest.

I don't belong here.

I focus on the silk in front of me and let my fingers graze it gently. It's a slippery as water and swishes back and forth when I pick it up off of my lap. The first thought I have is that it's too small and then the thought that follows it is that I can't wear this. I picture myself in this dress and find that I can't even imagine myself slipping into something like that. But I do.

I hop off the bed before I change my mind and zip off my coat. Pieces of my clothing drop to the floor like confetti and I get colder every second. When I'm down to nothing, I hop in the dress and pull on the heels Ruby gave me. I can barely stand much less walk in them but I get used to it after doing some test walks between the bed and the closet. When I'm on my fifth test walk my heart jerks and I panic for a second. My necklace. I look down and don't see it dangling from my neck. Then relief washes over me as I remember I took it off at the vanity when Ruby was doing my hair. The heels click against the wood floors as I hurry over to the vanity. The light burns my eyes but I'm so happy that I found it that I don't care. I slip it over my neck and am ready to head back over to the bed when my reflection beckons me to take a peek at my reflection. I cave into the desire and I my eyes are shocked at what they see.

The dress is shorter than I realized. It would be generous to say it reached my thighs. I'm much taller than I actually am with these monstrous heels on and I hate it. My hands yank on the ends of the dress and will it to be longer magically. I pull as hard as I can but when I let go the length is still the same. Suddenly, I'm back in the room with all the girls and my vision focuses on the one girl in the back pulling on a golden dress much like mine. I hear Madame rattling off her schedule; I hear Madame saying I'm exclusive; I see the pity Ruby's face; I hear Charlie saying don't lose my soul. Panic leaks into my body and the person in the mirror's golden lined eyes go wide. Realization floods in and crashes into me so hard that I'm gasping for air. I know where I am; I see what Charlie meant by warning me to be careful. Madame doesn't own a house of colors. She owns a house of girls.

She owns them and sells them to whoever bids the highest.

What have I done?


The only thing I let myself remember is the way Tobias's eyes were swirling with love when he proposed to me. I could see it as he pulled the ring box out of his pocket. His hands were shaking and he tried to hide it by holding onto the box with both hands tightly as if he was hanging onto dear life. His words, like the rest of him, were nervous yet sure, like he had been planning this for a long time. He had to speak above the noise of the chasm which probably annoyed him a little but I didn't mind. All I could think was how beautiful his eyes were then. They were not a storm nor a wall of blue but a navy full of deep unyielding love. I remember thinking that as long as he would be there to hold or even fight with I'd be okay.

I stroke the silk of the dress as I think of the memory. The dress reminds me of Tobias's eyes no matter how much I don't want it to. I will myself into believing that it's Marcus's eyes instead. Earlier, I shrugged on my coat and zipped it all the way up until the zipper was cutting into my windpipe. I don't cry; I don't get angry. I watch the clock praying that the clock will stop and I will never see nine O'clock. The minutes tip into each other though and I can't stop them. One minute pours into another. 7:15, 7:45, 8:30. I hear the girls climb up the stairs quietly, their boots or heels clicking as they walk.

8:45.

I pace the room and look out the window. It's hard to see through the darkness but I know the drop must be at least a thirty foot fall. I try to open the window by yanking on the ends but it's locked, just like I thought it would be. I also try the door but that's locked too. I don't allow myself to cry.

8:55.

I take off my jacket and shut off the light. I shove away any thoughts I have about Tobias or Zeke or the initiates.

8:58.

I make up a few rules for myself as I sit on the bed waiting for whoever bought me and my body for the night. I won't say anything to him. I absolutely won't react to his touch. He's going to have to make every move by himself. I won't let him hold me afterwards; only Tobias can do that.

8:59

My heart rate speeds up as I hear someone come down the hallway. I fist the blankets as I hear the bass voice coming closer. My stomach knots as he turns the door handle.

9:00

The man steps into the room confidently but when I look at his face he has a sheepish grin as if he was shy.

"You look gorgeous." His voice is gruff and I snap my eyes to the wall. I hate the way he's looking at me. He steps closer and closer until his fingers reach out tentatively to stroke back a few of the curls from my shoulder. He kisses my neck and I have an impulsive urge to slap him away and kill him like I killed the other two soldiers. Instead, I sit motionless as his hands travel along my body, fleeting in some places and rough in others. My suitor pushes one of the straps of my dress aside and kisses my shoulder. He lays me back onto the bed, not even bothering to get under the covers.

Tears well in my eyes as I think, I'm sorry Four, and I close my eyes willing the night away.


The man doesn't touch me afterwards. I want him to leave but he stays to my horror. At least he turns away from me to allow me some privacy. I scoot away from him and swing my feet over the bed. My feet walk towards the plush chair that has a few stains tainting it and I sit in it and fold my knees into my chest and look out the window.

The moon is shining now and it is almost mocking me because it's a beautiful night. Somewhere out there Tobias is sleeping with his group. I hope he never knows what I've done. My body is filthy, crawling, and I have an irresistible urge to take a shower but my door is locked and Madame would no doubt have my throat for leaving my room when I have my suitor, a very high paying suitor, paying to spend the night with me.

My necklace is on the nightstand and I reach for it. The chain clinks against the nightstand once, sending my heart knocking against my chest. I look over to see if the man is still sleeping and I'm reassured when I see the steady rise and fall of his chest. I release the tube from my tight grip and let it sit in my palm. I run the tip of my finger along the tube and feel the indents of the leaves hit against my flesh. Unexpectedly, tears prick at my eyes, hot and unwanted. Guilt wrenches my stomach into a knot. Tobias is out there still being faithful to me and I am in this silk dress that is too short for me wearing sparkly heels. I want to scream or cry or punch something but all I manage is lowering my head into my head into my hands. The guilt and the hurt reach inside my chest and squeeze my heart to the point where it's a challenge to breathe. I hate myself. I hate what I've become. If Tobias knew what I am now, he'd hate me too.

I bring my head out of my hands and wipe my cheeks, the makeup smearing like paint on a canvas. As I do, I catch sight of the man on the bed. Suddenly I am so angry I can hardly see straight. If I had a gun, I'd kill him. Maybe I can kill him with my bare hands. But I stay rooted to my chair. Instead, I fling my necklace at the wall, letting out a small cry of frustration. The necklace cracks against the wall. I hear a pop then the sound of the necklace hitting the floor. I look at it and I am shocked to see the top of the necklace popped off. I remember Tobias saying not to take it off. Why would he say that unless there is something inside? I get out of my chair to grab the necklace.

The necklace feels dangerous, like a stick of dynamite instead of a tube, as I hold it. I tilt the open end of the tube towards me and I am shocked to see what is inside.

There are ten little matches cramped inside the tube. I dump them out into my hand and a little square of a striking strip rubs against my palm. Why would Tobias give me matches? He doesn't do things just for the sake of doing them. I shake the tube upside down hoping for something else to slip out. Maybe a little bomb of some sort or something that would actually be useful. I look in the tube again and I am happy to see a white piece of paper clinging to the side. It takes me three tries to get it out but I finally pull the paper out and it falls in palm with the matches and the sandpaper. Tobias wrote his name in his thin and tiny handwriting. That alone makes me want to laugh and cry at the same time. I miss him so much. I unfold the paper and see what he wrote.

Burn the Erudite to the ground.

-Four

A somewhat insane smile bursts through the hopelessness on my face at his words. It's just so...Tobias. I picture him shoving matches into the tube being frustrated that he couldn't put something more useful like a mini bomb in there. He had his fingers pinching the bridge of his nose like he always does when he's frustrated. His message is crystal clear: destroy. I know the perfect place to start.

I slip out of my chair quietly and set the necklace full of matches and Tobias's note on the nightstand. It feels right when I slip off the silk dress and put on my Dauntless t-shirt and pants. I take the silk back in my arms and admire the way the moon reflects off of the fabric making it look like a deep blue ocean.

Then I light it on fire.

Flames eat away at the fabric and I open a window quickly then throw it out. Something that feels like joy stirs in my stomach and fills me with satisfaction. The flaming dress flutters down the side of the house but I turn away from the window before it reaches the ground. My feet find my way back to the bed and the strange man in it and I reach my hand out to grab my necklace before I climb in.

The sheets settle around me like a web, trapping me in, and I scoot as far away from the man as I can. I clutch my necklace in my hand like a secret and pray that the whole house will go up in flames and take Madame and her broken girls and maybe even me with it.

But it never does.


I hoped you liked it! Things are pretty bad for Tris right now but I can promise you that they will get better for her soon :). On a lighter note, Lionsgate casted Four! Theo James has the part and I am happy because Veronica Roth was thrilled about him being casted. What do you think?

I want next chapter to be out in the second week of April so keep a lookout for it. I'm hoping to have a lot of writing time on the bus :). Thanks for reading!

Kellie

P.s. Happy Hunger Games day for all of the tributes out there!