Sorry it's been a while, we've both been super busy with all sorts of assorted stuff. Hope you like :D
-iloverueforever and connorxrisa897
Disclaimer: We do not own The Hunger Games. Sorry to disappoint.
Ambel's POV
My short pink dress feels rough against my skin as I slip it over my head.
"AMBEL! Hurry, you're almost up!" one of my prep team members yells from the doorway.
"Coming!" I shriek, seizing the brown sash from the table and messily tying it around my small waist. "Why couldn't my stupid stylist not haven fallen down
the stairs?" I whisper, aggravated, heading out the door.
I can hear Cascadio Hertwarm already calling my name. I quickly scamper up to the stage, trying to keep my eyes off the audience.
"Well, hello there, Ambel!" Cascadio says, shaking my hand warmly.
"Hello," I chirp and lean back in my seat. Cascadio's warm blue eyes land on mine and he begins his questions.
"So Ambel…..tell us about your family," Cascadio requests, causing me to jump in my seat. Tears burn in my eyes as the terror surges through my veins.
Blood covers my body, my hands, and my dress. My gaze turns onto my parents' still, pale forms. I sink to my knees, head in hands sobbing. Sobs wrack my body as I slide onto my stomach in my mother's pile of blood, I can see my brother's small form try to pull me up from my fetal position, but I ignore him. I ignore everything. Pulling my knees to my chest, I tune out the world. A warm hand on my arm pulls me out of my memories.
"Ambel? Are you okay?" Cascadio asks me, he looks down upon me, worry clearly etched in his fake eyes.
I find myself on the floor, huddled under the coffee table.
"Yeah, what happened?" I ask, sinking back into my comfy red seat.
"You, um, fell? And started screaming," Cascadio says, rubbing my back comfortingly.
"I'm all right," I say, flashing the crowd a smile while rubbing my wrist, where a thin red mark has formed.
"Looks like time's up." Cascadio says as the timer rings. I swiftly lift myself
from my seat and scramble backstage.
Once backstage, I collapse into Platinum's open arms.
"It's okay…" she whispers into my ear. She looks at me with a mixture of
horror and confusion, but I appreciate her being there.
Rylan Harris's POV
"So Rylan, why did you volunteer?" Cascadio asks me. I give a small laugh
and run a hand through my hair, flopped and spiked by my stylists.
"I want to be a victor, I want the fame and glory!" I say, flexing my muscles.
"Oh, well that sounds good, but you're not 18 yet." Cascadio says, looking
at me.
"I couldn't wait," I say simply, digging my nails into the armrest of my seat.
Cascadio gives me a small smile before he continues to his next question.
"So an 8…." Cascadio says, smiling widely. I nod. "What about Platinum
Fowley only securing a 4? Historically, the tributes from 1, 2, and 4 are in a pack.
She could be a problem... What do you think, Rylan?" he asks smoothly. I gulp.
What do I say? The truth? No, that'll get me in trouble later. I clear my throat.
"I think there is more to her then her score." I say. Cascadio raises his
eyebrows, disappointed by my response.
