Weiss Forge 18, District 1.

I am woken by a slight shaking to my shoulder. Groaning, I roll over, trying to busy myself under the velvet blankets of the Capitol I moan for just a moment longer. I don't know what Armani is playing at. For the past couple of days, she had just knocked on my door calling me to breakfast. "Let me sleep," I mumble, if she's not being professional this morning neither will I.

"Get up." The voice, its masculine. It tickles the edge of my sleepy mind. Surely I am still asleep. There is no way I can be hearing that voice. That voice is from home. Another nudge, this time to my foot and it causes a slight tickle. I roll over. Looking up I squint my eyes at the brightness of the room, my curtains have been opened and the sunrise illuminates the luxury around me.

But I'm not interested in that. Instead, my heartbeat accelerates as I stare back at an almost identical pair of eyes. "Dad!" I rush over, wrapping my arms around him I pull him back onto the bed with me. He laughs, his body tumbling on top of mine he hugs me back.

"What are you doing here?" My voice squeaks in surprise. I didn't expect to see him until the Victory tour. I look over at him, his eyes have a tiredness to them that I have not seen in a while and dark stubble covers his cheeks. My brows furrow.

He looks back at me, a small smile is on his lips that does not reach his eyes. "I'm here to mentor you," he tells me, nudging my shoulder. My heart leaps at the prospect that I never thought would be a possibility. He has told me as much for as long as I can remember. Remember.

What's happened to Armani? I ask my dad and he smiles. "She's fine, she took over Ace's training so I'm able to be here for you." I smile, impossibly grateful that this has happened. My father has always been strict, sometimes harsh. But he knows me.

"Is Bastion okay?" My question causes my father to erupt into a laugh, I laugh in confusion as my father seems to be hysterical. I have never seen him like this before. His face goes red as he continues laughing and he wipes a tear out of his eyes. My brows furrow again and I feel a crease in between my eyebrows.

"Bastions better than okay." He manages to sputter out. A laugh still creeping into his voice. "Bastion has been promoted to Head Gamemaker."

"What?"

Nathaniel Mattingly 18, District 2.

I wake too early, the sun hasn't even graced the sky with its presence. Instead, darkness seeps in around the corners of my curtains, as if threatening to spill into the dim light that emits from the lamp beside my bed. That's okay, I'm not afraid of the dark.

Stretching out, I don't bother getting dressed. I always sleep in a shirt anyways. No one else is going to be awake at this hour so I feel comfortable leaving my room, I walk down the plush hallway not thinking about much. Today will be the last morning of training before the private sessions. I can't wait to show off.

Rounding the corner to the living room I am surprised to see a figure sitting on one of the coaches. In the dim light, I can see its Cassia. She wears long briefs that have a pattern that shows constellations and a loose fitting sleeveless shirt hangs down to below her hips. Her forehead looks coated in sweat and I can see patches of it on the shirt.

She stares in front of her, at nothing in particular. Her arms wrapped around her legs, goosebumps coat her skin like a blanket. Waking over her I make my footfalls soft, it's not hard against the shaggy carpet and she only seems to register that I am there once I sit next to her. She looks over, startled by my appearance.

"I hated him," she informs me, her eyes looking distant. I stay silent, wondering what she is talking about. "My brother," it's like she can read my thoughts. "I hated what he made me do, the marks that he caused on me," she runs her fingers absentmindedly down her back. "I hated him but I never wanted him dead. He was family."

She looks at me, an intensity in her blue rimmed gaze that is unnatural. "You don't blame me, do you? It's not my fault he's dead. He chose to do that. Knowing that they would catch him."

It clicks.

She hasn't talked about her family since the train. But the tape of her goodbye was released yesterday. It must have set her off again. "I never wanted him dead," she repeats, her voice cracking. Tears dance the corner of her eyes and one drips down. She seems not to notice. "He was all I had since Orion changed. My parents just wanted this life for me. To live out the dreams that they couldn't." She laughs.

"Both of them were second in their years at the Academy. My brother didn't bother to train hard. They turned a blind eye to what my brother did. Thought it kept me ready to volunteer and get away." Another tear falls, this one tracing a line down the creases of her nose, and balancing on the tip of her lip.

"They got a message in. I don't know how. Our escort delivered it." She passes me a piece of paper, it only has a few words scrawled haphazardly over it. As if the writer was in a rush. You killed your brother. Don't bother coming home. - Mum and Dad.

"They blame me. He wanted me to do one last favor the morning of the reaping. But I couldn't do it. I hid. Then my brother had to punish me. That's what happened at my goodbye." Her voice goes distant again. Two more tears fall, one either side.

"It's not your fault," she looks up in surprise as if forgetting that I was sitting next to her. "He was abusive and wrong, it's not your fault, he doesn't deserve to know you, none of them do." I take her hands in mine, they are ice cold. I move my palms up and down, trying to massage some warmth into their coolness.

"Why were you covered in blood at the reaping?" I am taken aback by the rapid change of subject. I can't tell her now.

"I'll tell you another time," I say as I wipe the tears from her cheeks.

"Promise?"

"Promise."

Talia Lancaster, 15, District 3.

I sit next to Callum on the floor of the dining room. It's nice and cool against the dark wood. Neither of us could sleep easy last night. Not with the pressure of what is going to happen today. The Private Sessions. I don't know what I am going to do for them. How I will entertain the Gamemakers.

"What are you thinking about?" I ask Callum, his nose is scrunched up in the way he does when he's thinking about something serious.

"How to get you home," he tells me honestly, placing one of his huge hands in mine I feel the warmth of his skin as he squeezes tight. An awkward silence descends over us. One that will never dissipate.

"Your portrait will be the first one that I paint," I tell him. My voice cracking. He looks back at me, his eyes full of warmth.

"I'd like that," he tells me.

"I wish we could both go home," I mumble. Pulling myself into his chest he lets me put my weight on his lean frame.

"I do too, but we both know that that's not possible." I look up at him, and the sympathy clearly shown on his face. Damn the Capitol. Damn it to hell for doing this to us.

"Why did you really volunteer? Not just the for my family answer. That's not good enough." I've been chewing on this question for the past little while, I can't figure out an answer large enough to sacrifice his life for.

Callum looks back at me, his hair falling into his eyes he takes a deep breath. It leaves his lips shakily. "There's not much left for me, my mother and Wren gone. But you have so many more people, so much more family that loves you. I'm not prepared to let you leave that." He looks down at me, his eyes burning from beneath dirty blond hair.

"Thank you," I tell him, wrapping my arms around him. We sit on the floor in silence, listening to the hustle and bustle of the streets outside as they wake with the morning. Nerves bubble in anticipation for what is going to happen today. But they are swept away by the admiration for Callum and what he is choosing to give up.

Carolyn Aquana, 17, District 4.

"How are you feeling?" My mentor, Alice asks me. I woke early, like usual, and decided to get a head start on breakfast. I was hoping that I could avoid Blake, he's become more bearable since he picked up Esme. But not enough to be around for long.

"Confident," I reply. Taking a bite of the sweet bread that I have placed on my plate. Alice smiles back at me, taking a bite of her own food we chew in a comfortable silence. "How are you feeling about the other Tributes?" She asks, a slight sparkle in her eye.

I stare back at her, "some seem alright," I tell her vaguely. Not wanting to tell her about I truly feel, I need to work alongside them no matter what personal opinions that I have. There's no point vocalizing unproductive thoughts.

"Come with me," she tells me, getting up from the table. Shoving the last bite of pastry into my mouth I wipe sticky lips with the back of my hand as I follow her out of the dining room. She takes me into a room I have not seen before.

It looks like a studio, musical instruments lay scattered and a microphone sits on a stand in the center of the room, it's much more elegant than the ones they use at the reapings, its plugged into a large console. "My talent is music," Alice explains and the world makes sense again.

She picks up a guitar, strumming a tune quietly she stares down at her fingers. I sit on top of a table against the back wall as I listen to the tune. It's hard to pick up, so soft I have to strain my one good ear to try and catch it. Like the wind it cannot quite be caught, only felt for a moment.

"I understand that you don't want to be completely honest with me, but you need to be." She tells me, her voice as soft, almost humming the melody of the song that she is strumming. "They won't come in here. Marvolo knows to knock."

I just stare ahead.

"Look, I've seen how you look around Blake. We all know only one tribute can come home." Her voice is plain, without malice but without any emotion. I look at her in surprise, Alice has always seemed like the kind one. Then again no one can be that kind if they have won the Games.

"Won't Marvolo have something to say about that?" I ask her, jumping to conclusions that have only been loosely traced out. Like a line on the sand, they could be washed out at any moment, but they have a mark while they still exist.

"We've had some chats since arriving here. The Victor often has something to do with the appetite of the Capitol too, most have an inherent dislike for Blake at this stage." I laugh, a sound that is not heard often at all.

"Would I have to stay with the Careers the whole Games?" Alice's eyebrows rise in surprise at my question. My mind drifts, to a dangerous possibility, yet one that makes my heart race more than my boy back home ever could.

Alice and I hatch out a plan, a dangerous one at that. But what inside of the arena is not dangerous? At least this one gets me away from the Careers before they have the chance to turn on me, the only choice will be whether I decide to leave peacefully or turn on them first.

Oliver Apollo, 17, District 5.

I make quiet conversation with Caroline over breakfast, she seems nice enough. Be it a bit distracted, but that's not surprising for someone in our position. Yesterday she barely touched her breakfast, today she wolfs it down like it is her last meal on earth. I think Kalisa had the right idea about uniting us.

"Can we talk?" She asks me after we have both finished eating, I look at the clock. It is only a few minutes before we will have to go down to the training center.

"Sure," I tell her, my chair legs grate against the floor as I get up from the table. I smile at an Avox as she takes the plate that I have finished with. She looks coolly back, as if not noticing my presence. I am still not used to their silent stance. I had never seen an Avox before coming here, but I had almost made myself okay with becoming one. Ever since the girl on the train. I wonder if she is here now, waiting on another tribute.

I follow Caroline back down the hallway of the apartment, she leads me into her bedroom. It's almost identical to mine. Except while mine is decorated in dark black and gleaming whites hers is decorated in pale blue with green flecks. "What's up?" I ask her, surprised by the sudden interest in talking that she has.

"I need to tell you something, but you have to promise that it won't affect the alliance." My eyebrows shoot up, wondering what secrets she could be hiding. Thinking back to her reaping I wonder if it has anything to do with her best friend. Or the husband.

"It won't," I tell her, I always keep my word, no matter what.

She takes a deep breath, I can tell the confession is on the tip of her tongue. Then she closes her mouth, opening it again after a moment, in a completely different manner. "Can you tell me about Dwayne?"

I am taken aback, "how do you know about him?" I ask, a pain stabbing my heart at the mention. He didn't come to the goodbyes.

"That doesn't matter, just humor me." She tells me, a sparkle in her eyes like nothing I've seen before. She probably saw us at some point around the District, or maybe one of our mentors did. The secret doesn't matter anymore I guess.

"He's just too old to get reaped. He's tall. He's blond. He's my rock. He's always had my back. I love him." The words fall from my lips, each having more emotion than the last. She nods. I almost forgot that Caroline was sitting across from me.

"Imagine having that love with two people and not even realizing it. When you do it's too late." Her voice wobbles. "Imagine making the biggest mistake of your life."

Jerry Kapper, 15, District 6.

"I found some Allies," I tell Adam proudly as we eat breakfast together. Milk dribbles down my chin as I speak, I wipe it with the grey sleeve of the shirt that I am wearing for training today, it's an active material, but the sleeves go to my wrists and make me feel like I am getting a hug constantly. It's a nice feeling.

"You have?" Adam asks, raising one eyebrow.

I wish I could do that. I try to imitate him and he just laughs, taking a large bite of some kind of meat he chews then asks, "have you got them to agree to an alliance?" He stares at me as he waits for a reply, I feel my cheeks redden.

"Not yet, but that's what today's for," I tell him proudly.

"Aren't you cutting it a bit last minute for that?" A feminine voice asks. My heart freezes in shock as I look up and see that Esme has rounded the corner and into the dining room.

I get up immediately. Heading for the elevator I know that I will be too early for training, but I don't mind. It's better than staying here.

"Jerry wait! I nee-" I hear her voice call out but it is cut off by the closing of the elevator door. Tears sting my eyes in betrayal and I take deep breaths, trying to clear the panic that has risen suddenly in my throat.

I can't be around her. The way she betrayed me for the Careers. The elevator seems too small and I pace around the small room, it seems like an impossibly long time before I am let out and rush out when it opens. Tripping over my own feet I sprawl on the polished floor. Panic rising in my throat.

"Are you okay?" Someone asks, and I look up into her eyes.

Willow Ashes, 16, District 7.

I look down in surprise at the boy who has fallen at my feet. It's the boy from District 6, I offer him a hand up and he takes it gratefully before he scampers off, not making eye contact. Nirvana snorts at him.

"You're acting like you weren't that young and awkward at one point," I tell him, staring at his muscular build. My head reaches his chest.

"My uncle trained me to be the opposite of him. Arrogance attracts sponsors." He replies, throwing me a wink he takes a step closer. I laugh at him.

"I think you're uncles got it wrong. You won't appeal to the Capitol if you're overly arrogant." I reply, my words become jumbled up and sounding lamer than I intended. He narrows his eyes, taking a step closer to me.

"Oh, maybe we will have to try another angle?" His voice is barely a whisper as he places an arm around my back, his hand rests slightly lower than my waist as he pulls me toward him. Butterflies explode in my chest and cause my heart to beat faster than when my name was called out at the reaping. Something I thought was impossible.

"And what would that be?" I reply, my head tilted upward I speak toward his lips. His body seems to burn beneath mine and I wonder how he hasn't burst into flames. He stares down at me, our breaths merging in the proximity of our body's.

"We will just have to wait and see," he says suddenly, taking his hand off my body he steps out from the proximity in a simple step. Leaving me shocked at the coolness that suddenly surrounds me. He smirks at my face which reads as disappointed.

I look away from him, my cheeks blushing from the embarrassment and disappointment. I am a mess as I stare at the floor. I feel oddly cool without his embrace that only lasted a moment, but those few seconds felt so right and so warm.

I don't know what he wants from me.

But I think he is going to get it.

Weft Loomis, 15, District 8.

When I get down to the training center my embarrassment from my fall has still not worn off, two days later. I stare everywhere but at the other Tributes as the head trainer does their talk and wander off toward the snare station for my last morning of training.

I get started on a complex one that connects multiple ropes to each other, as much of a warning sign as a snare it will alert me if others are in my area. Just as I am finishing the first knot, my shoulder still sore from my fall, I jump as I feel a tap on my back.

The boy my age from District 6 stands behind me. "What do you want?" I ask him, slightly on the defensive. I don't know how long he has been staring at me for. This snare was supposed to be my secret weapon.

"Do you want to allies?" He asks, his eyes bright.

It takes a moment to process what he is asking. We have never even talked before now. Well, apart from maybe the occasional word when we both happened to be at the same station. "Why would you want to ally with me?" I blurt out.

He looks back at me in confusion, "why wouldn't I?"

"Well, I, uh fell," I splutter back, my cheeks turning red. I should not have brought it up. But he surprises me, pulling up a sleeve of his shirt he shows a long red welt.

"I did that at the sword fighting station, the trainer expected me to be faster," he explains, tugging on the hair on the back of his neck.

I stare at the boy, maybe we could be friends in another life. Maybe we could be in this one. His nervous habit reminds me of one my best friend used to have. Weaver. I miss him.

"Let's be allies," I tell him, sticking out my hand.

He takes mine in his and after an awkward shake, the deal is made. "Follow me then," he says, practically bouncing up and down from joy he speeds across the center. I have to rush to catch up to his boisterous step.

"Where are we going? I ask, he is leading us toward the edible plant's station.

"To find a new friend." I look over to who is at the station and stop in my tracks.

"You want him?" I ask, shock in my voice.

"What's wrong with him?" The boy replies, his voice defensive. "He's the same age as us," I feel my eyebrows crinkle.

"He is?" Something about that boy makes him seem a lot older.

"Come on,"

Cole Rockweld, 15, District 9.

Footsteps squeak on the polished floor. I don't pay any mind to them, focusing on what the trainer is explaining to me about deadly plants. I decided to save this station for last, but now I regret it, this is something I really need to keep coming back to.

Someone clears their throat behind me, I turn curiously. The trainer quiets, understanding that I won't be able to listen. Behind me, two boys stand. Weft and Jerry, I recognize them from around. I think I've had a couple of conversations with Jerry, and Weft is the one I saw fall from the rope before getting my bulls-eye.

"Whats up?" I ask them, wondering what the boys my own age could want.

"Come ally with us," the taller one, Jerry says. My eyebrows raise. I never thought I would go into these Games with allies. My heart beats loud in my ears, this could give me a real chance. A chance to go back home to Barrick.

"This us?" I ask, Jerry takes a beat to understand what I'm saying and Weft looks over at him in confusion. He doesn't know either.

"Three more," he replies confidently. I burst into laughter.

"You're making a pack to rival the Careers?"

"That's the plan," he flashes me a cheeky grin.

"How do you know that you're not going to turn on me in my sleep?" I ask, trying to convey a mix of teasing and seriousness in my voice.

"You can have first watch if you're so concerned," Jerry teases back.

"Only if you take it with me,"

"Deal." Jerry holds out his hand and I take it in a firm grasp.

"Right then, who else are we recruiting?" Weft asks, smiling at the exchange.

"Follow me," Jerry says, winking at Weft. Weft rolls his eyes as he follows, I say goodbye to the trainer before following them as well. Hope making my steps feel lighter than air.

Eva Brath, 14, District 10.

Trav has been helping me out with some basic hand to hand combat. They are very fast, even faster than me and is almost impossible to pin down. I smile over at them as we take a quick break, sweat shimmering on both of our faces we share a small smile. I've been feeling better since I've got to know Trav over the past few days, they have given me a friend.

"Ready to go again?" They ask, practically bouncing up and down in excitement. They've finally found something they are good at and I smile in support.

"Just let me have a little more water. You're so fast," I reply, my voice showing a hint of jealousy.

"Yeah, well you've been the one acing the edible plant station. It's that knowledge that is going to keep us alive," Trav replies, flashing me a toothy grin. Warmth flows through me at the compliment and causes me to have a boost of adrenaline.

"Alright, I'm ready to go again," I reply. The trainers will let us do a little wrestling together, kitted up with padding and head protection over top of mats. It's almost comical how much protection they are requiring us to have when soon we will have to kill each other.

We square off, the trainers looking on as one of them starts to count down. I heard the two trainers whispering to each other, apparently, we are pretty even matched. But Trav has a lot more confidence.

"Wait!" A voice calls as the trainer finishes counting. We freeze, looking at each other. It was not one of the trainers that told us to stop. Looking out of the ring there are three boys standing there around my age.

I raise my eyebrows at Trav in surprise and he raises his back. Taking off his head guard I follow his lead as we leave the mats to talk to the boys. Apprehension makes my handshake.

"What do you want?" Trav asks, sounding standoffish.

A boy with bleach blonde hair addresses us. I think it is his district partner that has joined the Careers. I bet he's feeling mad about missing the invite. "Come to join our alliance," he tells us, offering a dazzling smile.

I look over at Trav and they usher for me to come closer. "What do you think?" They whisper into my ear.

"We need all the help we can get against the Careers. And there's the two of us so we can look out for each other. I'm in." I reply, I see them become lost in thought for a moment before looking back towards the group of boys.

"We're in," Trav tells them.

Harvest Kohl, 15, District 11.

Poppy and I are exhausted. We spent all of the morning working rapidly over the weapons stations, trying to pick up any last minute knowledge we could my brain is overly full and my shirt has dark pit stains from my sweat.

Poppy leans against me as we sit on the edge of a station, it was for camouflage, but at this point, all of the pots have been used up and no one has been bothered to replace them. They will bring out fresh liquid and twigs for the Private Sessions.

Popp shifts her weight, leaning onto my back I feel my heart flutter the slightest bit. I've been trying to get my emotions under control since we both got reaped, no point in loving her, it will only make all of this harder. But when I look over at her cute freckles and the way her eyelashes seem to shimmer in the light it's hard.

I wish I told her how I felt. Before all this. Now it's too late, a secret that I will have to take to the grave. "I'm sorry," I mumble my thoughts out loud.

"What was that?" Poppy asks me, fluttering her eyes open I look down into her sparkling brown eyes. Some people find brown eyes boring, not hers. They are like endless pits, swirling masses of hazel and darker colors they are something I will never be able to express.

"Sorry for being sweaty," I say, it's lame, but its better than what I was thinking." She laughs it off. Her laugh is like a breath of fresh air in this suffocating world.

"You're always sweaty," she teases, jabbing me lightly in the ribs. "It's just one of the things I love about you." He words cause more intense butterflies, this time they are jumping around.

"I wish you didn't have to be here," I tell her, something moist drips down my cheek and lands in her hair.

"I wish you didn't," she replies, taking one of her hands in mine.

We sit that way for a while, with her hand in mine. Until the buzzer goes off signaling that it has become lunchtime. My chest spasms as I realize it is time for the Private Sessions.

Flint Fraser, 13 District 12.

I sit by myself at a bench, shoveling food into my mouth it is more out of nerves about what is going to happen. Like the ultimate school test, the Private Sessions will decide on how much attention is on us from the sponsors. And we all need sponsors.

Adair thinks that I can get sponsors. I'm cute. But I need to show that I'm not incapable. Or maybe I should just go for it and play the helpless and cute angle. I don't know. I don't want to draw the attention of the other Tributes before the Games begin. I wish I could talk to Adair about it before the sessions. He just wished me luck this morning. I should have asked.

"Hey, glasses!" The shout in my direction causes me to jump, some pasta sauce splatters onto my yellow shirt in the movement and I stare sadly at the stain. That won't make a good impression.

I look over to who yelled at me and see Jerry, the boy from District 6. I've talked to him a few times over the past few days, he seems nice. I wanted to ally with him like Adair said but haven't found the time to talk to him yet. My heart leaps. This could be my chance.

"What?" I mumble back, my voice shaking with nerves. I need to get up the courage to ask him, but my hands start to tremble. What if he rejects the invite, then I truly will be alone.

"Want to ally?" He asks. It takes me a moment to process what he has said when I do I break out into a huge grin.

"With you?" I ask, my voice shaking with excitement.

"And all them," he says, issuing over his shoulder to where a group of Tributes sits. The boy from District 8, the two from District 10, the boy from District 9. With me, we will be six. That's the same number as the Careers.

I know what Adair would want me to do.

"I'm in," I reply, jumping out of my seat in excitement.

He sticks a hand out to be shaken but I go in for the hug, he laughs as we hug briefly. It feels awkward, but I crave the moment of intimacy. It reminds me of the hugs I used to share with my sister, I wish her more with every passing day.

"Come meet everybody," the boy tells me, leading me back to the table.

Authors note: I promise the Games are going to be picking up now! I'm sorry for the delay in writing, I'm going through exams right now so am feeling pretty burnt out all around.

They are almost over though and the Games are about to begin so be prepared!

Please please please review, its what keeps me motivated!

As always, may the odds be ever in your favour,

and,

thank you for your sacrifice.