-March 27th, Year of the 75th Hunger Games-

'So how'd it go?' I ask over dinner.

'They are good. Very good.' Vice begins. 'Most of the older Victors have, if anything, improved, and that's not even mentioning the younger ones.'

'The Career pack is strong, as usual,' says Tyga, 'But I'm sensing some distance between Districts 1 and 2 and District 4. We might end up with just a four person Career pack. It's also worth remembering that the Careers are usually seen as the enemy because they're always strong and form alliances quickly, but everyone is starting off at the same position in these Games. The Careers may not even be the biggest threat.'

'What about Katniss and Peeta?' Stella asks, although I wonder if she's more interested in their romance as opposed to the threat they pose.

'They've been trying to do the rounds – see if they can suss out allies, although I don't think Katniss is too keen on it all.' Tyga continues, 'But then again, she doesn't seem to even need allies. I've seen her shoot. What we saw in her Games doesn't even scratch the surface.'

'She's deadly.' Vice adds.

'Sheesh,' Annalee says, chewing on a buttered roll.

'Anyone you think we can rule out?' Stella asks between mouthfuls.

'District 6 I'd say,' Tyga replies, 'They've taken in so much morphling in the last few years that they're permanently off their face.'

'Perfectly fine life choice, if you ask me,' Vice says, speaking with food still in his mouth.

'Eugh, Vice please!' Stella spits. She turns her nose up at him but he just ignores her and continues speaking.

'Also District 3, District 10. As much as it pains me to say it, Mags. And Woof from 8. Other than that, it's a pretty strong field.' He gulps down a whole glass of whisky and Stella gives him eyes like daggers.

There's quiet after that, as it starts to sink in how hard it's going to be to ensure one of District 5's Victors return home. And then suddenly Haymitch's note is in my mind. Day 3, he said. Maybe, maybe if Tyga and Vice could stay alive until Day 3, they'll make it out somehow. It's not much to hold onto but I'll take whatever hope I can find. Even if it's false hope.

Dinner wraps up fairly soon after that, with not much more conversation. We're all exhausted, both mentally and physically so naturally we head to our rooms. Tyga and I get mostly undressed and slip into bed, just holding each other. I softly stroke her fiery hair, as she rests her eyes.

'Haymitch had a message for you,' I say, my words quite and gentle.

'Oh?' she says, not opening her eyes.

'It was this,' I say, passing her the note. I daren't say it aloud as there are almost certainly cameras in our room. The Capitol aren't big on privacy.

Tyga laboriously opens her eyes and reads the note. After the words have sunk in, she turns to me. 'Do you think he's actually going to do something?'

'I don't know. I wish I did.'

'He's not one to lie, I guess.' She rests her head down on my chest again and her eyes close. 'I guess hope is all we're holding onto right now, so I'll take it.'

I nod, although she can't see it. Soon her breaths start to even out, slowly inhaling and exhaling and I know she's fallen asleep.

I try to close my eyes but sleep alludes me. At one point I fall asleep for about fifteen minutes but a nightmare has soon jolted me awake. Luckily, Tyga has rolled away from me in her slumber, so my sudden movement did not awaken her. Good. She needs all the sleep she can get. I lay there, attempting to keep my eyes closed, for a few hours, but I soon realise it's no use. I need some fresh air, the only source of which is the roof.

Silently, my footsteps like feathers, I slip out of bed and across the room, grabbing some simple clothes on my way to the door. As quietly as I can, I let myself out and then softly shut the door behind me. In the main quarters I put on my clothes – some loose trousers and a cotton button-up shirt, which I do up, leaving several buttons undone at the top. I decide to wear just socks, not bothering with shoes, and head to the elevator. Cringing at the loud ding, fearing it may wake someone, I hop inside and ascend to the roof.

When the doors open again, I feel a cool night breeze on my face. The stars are sparkling in a dark velvet sky, not that you can see a whole lot of them, the building light polluting the darkness. However, my attention is quickly brought to something else on the roof. It turns out I'm not the only one who can't speak. The silhouettes of two men are looking out over the skyline, both with drinks in their hands. I crouch behind a vent, unsure if I should be seen here – I've never actually been informed whether the roof is an area that should be accessed.

'I can't ask you to do that,' says one of the men, whose voice identifies him as Haymitch.

The reply comes in a familiar gruff tone. 'It's not a request – I don't need your permission. I just think that if I'm gonna die, I might as well make it worthwhile.'

My eyes widen as I recognise Vice's voice, but I stay quiet.

'Can't argue with your logic.' Haymitch takes a gulp of his drink, before turning to face Vice. 'But Vice, you know that there are a lot of flaws here. You're not the fastest.'

'I don't need to be the fastest,' he replies, 'No one's gonna dare go near that girl. Everyone knows that she's the biggest threat in the Games.'

Haymitch nods solemnly as Vice takes a sip from his glass.

'Look, Vice. Look – I can't ask you to-'

'For the last time, Haymitch!' Vice raises his voice. 'With respect, sweetheart, this is not your decision to make. If I wanna die, then I wanna die. Now you can either accept that and help me make it worthwhile,' He takes a gulp from his glass, draining it, 'Or you can piss right off.'

There's some tension while they glare at each other, and then they both start laughing.

'You've got spirit, I'll give you that.' Haymitch chuckles.

I decide that this would be an ample opportunity to escape the situation unnoticed. I creep back into the elevator and I'm just about to press the button when I get spotted.

'Spying on me, eh?' Vice hollers.

I freeze and turn to see him smirking at me.

'I-' I begin.

'Oh, leave it, Connor. Give me some credit, I heard the elevator arrive. If I couldn't hear people creeping up on me, then I wouldn't have survived the Games.'

'I-' I say again, but I can't work out how to finish the sentence so I just close my mouth.

'Besides,' Vice says, 'I've given up caring.'

'Maybe, I should leave you two in peace,' Haymitch says.

He stumbles past me into the elevator, patting me on the back on the way in. I step out and the doors close behind, leaving just me and Vice on the roof. Vice turns his back to me and stares out, overlooking the city. I walk over to him.

'Are secret midnight meetups with Haymitch a regular thing that you guys do?' I ask. 'Have I missed out on something here?'

'No.' Vice laughs for just a second. 'No, this is- this is a first.'

'Oh.'

There's silence for a few minutes, before I speak again.

'So, you're just accepting that you're gonna die?'

'Pretty much.'

'What, and you're not gonna fight for it?'

'If you're referring to fighting for my life, then no. If you're referring to fighting to make a difference, then yes.'

'So, what, you're just gonna give up?' I practically spit. For all Vice's flaws, he's not someone who just gives up at the last hurdle.

'I am not giving up, Connor.' He's remaining remarkably calm. 'Giving up implies losing. I'm not losing.'

'Well, it sounds like giving up from where I'm standing.' I'm disgusted at how Vice could just want to die.

'Yeah,' Vice laughs bitterly, 'I bet it does.'

'Look, I'm not gonna pretend that I want you to win ahead of Tyga, but for god's sake, you can't just give up!'

'How about it being more than just about me, Connor? Huh? How about that?' He's facing me now and I can see fury in his eyes, but it's deeper than that. 'Look, I get that you have a very narrow view of the world but from where I'm standing there are people dying, Connor. Not just in the Games, either. There are people fighting for freedom and being killed because they don't want to live like this anymore, Connor!'

'So, what, you're just gonna die and be some kind of martyr? Is that what it is?' I'm raising my voice although I don't really mean to.

Vice throws his hands in the air, sloshing his drink. 'What is wrong with you, Connor? It's not all about me, either. For god's sake, at the end of the day, my death is just another death in a pool of thousands. And that's why I need to make it count.'

'What are you talking about?'

'Haymitch has a plan and he needs Katniss to trust Finnick, and the only way she's going to do that is if he saves her life. And the only way he can save her life is if she's being attacked – and that's where I come in.'

I press my hands to my forehead in frustration. 'So, what, you're just gonna let Finnick kill you?!'

'Yes Connor! That's exactly what I'm gonna do!'

'But why?!' Something doesn't fit here. 'The Vice I know would never just give up his life! You wouldn't just go down without a fight!'

'Leave it, Connor.'

'No! What the hell is going on to make you want to die?!'

'BECAUSE I'M ALREADY DEAD!' He yells, shattering the silent night.

The night breeze brushes against us.

'What?' I say, just a whisper but it's like a shout in the silence.

'I'm dying, Connor.' His eyes stare coldly out onto the city. 'The drinking, the morphling – it's killing me.' He swallows, his voice suddenly meek. 'The doctors said I have six months to live. Maybe less.'

I don't reply, and the silence seems to dwarf the sounds of the Capitol.

'I know I'm gonna die,' he says quietly, 'So I want it to be worthwhile.'

And he turns, walking back into the elevator, and I don't stop him.


A/N: So yeah - let me know what you think! I imagine they'll enter the arena in either the next chapter or the chapter after so omg - but yes please REVIEW (pleaseplease) :) See you next week! Oh and also this story just passed 10,000 views! Thank you so much for your constant support - it honestly means the world!