Quintin Arrow

District 7

This wasn't part of the plan.

For what godforsaken reason did they decide that Olivia should be in the career pack? Why not me? Sure she is strong and somewhat good with an axe, but only with the basics! There's only so much you can learn from chopping down trees!

I, on the other hand, have gotten personal training from my uncle and it should have been pretty clear when I showed off my skills. I know exactly where the arteries you need to cut are for someone to bleed out and how you need to grab someone's head to break their neck. I can take on any of the careers and kill them without a scratch.

While yes, I understand that they can recruit me also, that's not what I am worried about.

"This makes things more complicated. When I get accepted into the careers I won't be able to kill you before we split, which means I have to drag with you for an entire week!"

"You won't have too, because aren't invited," Olivia says with distaste in her voice.

"And how the hell do you know that?"

"Because they told me too. You're too big of an asshole," she replies. I slam my fist into the elevator wall, wanting to tell her that such simple tricks don't work on me. But I'm not dumb. I know that what she is saying is true sadly. The careers asked the boy from 9 and the girl from 6, who both said no. While they might be close to my level of skill, the careers had the audacity to ask the girl from 8 to join them! Eight! I can't believe a fucking street rat got asked before me.

"You know that showing off back in the training center only made you a target-"

"Shut up," I interrupt me, putting my forehead towards the elevator wall. I need to think.

"What?"

"I said shut up! I need to think and your annoying voice is disturbing me!" I shout back at her.

"Have you ever thought that I would have been annoyed by your voice?"

"If you don't shut up I'll break your leg here and right now!"

That makes her quiet, despite her being stronger than me. If this were in the arena things would have gone differently, but I know she won't do something so impulsive in the pre-games. But she knows that I am fully serious with my threat, and I am capable to follow it up. Even if I get some sort of penalty in the games, I'll still do it. She needs to know her place until my axe finds its way into her chest.

But I don't get why they wouldn't invite me. I could go and ask them myself in case I would want too, but that's below me. It could also be embarrassing if they're stupid enough to tell me to fuck off, and I can't afford that. But I seriously doubt that my attitude is the problem. For god sake, careers should be the one to understand me the most! They volunteered to essentially bully 18 other kids! Maybe in a normal year, but then we have the reaped careers. They were the ones that probably took the decisions. God damn snowflakes. At least they will be easier to kill.

No, that's no it. I'm too good for them. They saw my skills in the training center. They're afraid that I'll kill them all and plan on killing me in the bloodbath instead of waiting for me to single them out. While yes, they're right, it complicates things even further. My first plan was to join the careers and maybe get 4-5 kills in the bloodbath, but that obviously won't happen. Despite how much I hate it, I have to settle for maybe one kill.

When I said that I could take on the careers, I didn't mean all of them at once. That might be too much even for me. Terrence taught me how to fight multiple people at once, moving so they are always in the way for each other, but even I am smart enough to realize it isn't the most optimal situation. I'll kill Olivia first of the careers because she has been annoying. Then the fours, since they didn't let me in the alliance. After that, I don't have an order on who to kill.

The elevator stops on the seventh floor and Olivia immediately steps out. She stops when she notices that I'm still in the elevator.

"Are you coming or not?" she says her tone making me want to think she hopes that I will say no.

"Nope, now leave me alone," I growl and she turns around to continue to go back towards her room. I roll my eyes and press button to go to the roof, feeling like I need some time to think. And I certainly can't think with Maeve and Olivia's annoying voices constantly chattering. Terrence is the only guy who is somewhat tolerable, and I know he will come looking for me when he notices I'm gone.

I have said it multiple times and I will say it again. I'm not dumb. Whatever I said to Olivia about survival stations being useless was a lie. She already thinks I'm a narcissistic idiot, which I'm not by the way, and I see no reason to give her more information than she needs. I have trained at the survival stations, even if I have spent most of the time at the weapons, and I can survive in the wild. I'm set if I am in a forest arena, I would feel exactly like home.

The elevator doors open and this time I walk out. The first thing I notice is the strong wind. The constant whooshing noise fills me hears and if someone talked beside me I would probably have trouble hearing them. That would also make any wire-tapping the capitol useless I now understand. Maybe it could have some use, but I currently don't have any plans to talk treason that could get me killed.

I sit on the ledge on the building, letting my legs sway freely in the air. I start wondering if you could take suicide by jumping off, and then why the capitol would allow tributes to come up to the roof. Not wanting to throw myself over the edge, because I fully intend on winning and coming back, I throw a piece of gravel out towards the city. It hits something causing a large flash and bounces back towards my eye.

I'm able to close it in time but I still throw out a few curses, because it hurt like hell, before I start laughing. A forcefield. Of course. It must be the same as they use in the arena to keep the tributes and it makes sense they would use the same technology outside the games. The capitol wouldn't want their tributes to commit suicide. Wouldn't make for very interesting television.

I consider throwing myself on the forcefields just to see what will happen, but I decide not too. It would probably hurt a lot, ruining my good looks I'm using to sway over sponsors, and I wouldn't want the capitol to think I will be a problem.

I stay on the roof for a few hours. The noises of busy capitolites are soon replaced by silence as they go back home, and then back again once the partying starts. My brain tells me to don't care about them, that this is not why you're here, but I can't stop myself from feeling anger bubbling up in me.

I remember back home in district 7. Everything was so much quieter there. And poorer too. I had my fair share when I was thrown out in the rain by my parents. I remember now Peter, who has basically slipt past my mind for these last days. He was one of the poorest in the district. He was a brat who didn't know his place and always ruined our fun, but when I see the capitol's luxury I can't help but feel some sort of sympathy. Back in Seven, the standards were different.

My family was as poor as anyone else, but I spent most of my days with Terrence anyway. Being a victor, he's the one you can call rich in our district. Of course, it doesn't compare to the capitol.

I can hear the elevator doors open behind me but I ignore it. If it's Terrence, he won't be mad that I don't greet him since he wouldn't either, and if it's anyone else I hope they take the hint to fuck off. I currently don't feel like talking to anyone other than Terrence.

Terrence, my uncle who taught me about the games, takes the seat beside me. He has putten his light brown hair in a tie, something he normally does when he's serious, and gently touches his beard on his chin like he's thinking while he's inspecting me.

"I didn't think you would find me so fast," I say, still staring out towards the capitol. The light show blinks in different colors as the capitolites party on. The streets are filled with people all dancing to music, most prominent this year's main theme, blasting out of giant speakers.

Terrence scoffs. "There aren't a lot of places you can go here as long as you didn't visit the district floors, but you're too arrogant for that."

I flinch a little at his insult but I don't shoot back. When I stay quiet he continues talking. "If everything went well you would still be at our floor bragging, but for some reason, you're here. Why?"

I stay quiet for a minute before answering. "Because I probably have the whole careers pack targeting me."

"So you didn't get accepted into the careers? Hmmm, unsurprisingly but unfortunate. I don't think they will target you too much, especially with idiots like Casey and Suri running around. But you have a point. Well well, it isn't the whole world. Don't get a high score, maybe a six or seven instead, so they don't target you."

"No, out of question. That's below my dignity."

"When I say you get a low score, you get a low score."

"I'll take them on Terrence. I'm not stupid." I say. Almost always I listen to Terrence, but I do as I want in the end. Terrence maybe knows best about the games, but otherwise, I know exactly what' best for me. I have been in this body for eighteen years. And this body won't purposely get a low score together with the other weaklings.

Terrence glares at me but doesn't argue back. "It's your funeral. Too bad Olivia joined the careers. She will maybe convince them to focus your down, even if I doubt they will listen to an outer district tribute. Still, you don't want to be close to the careers in the games. Run to the edge of the arena and pick off any weaker tributes that you might find."

I scoff at his suggestion once again. "If I stay out of the action, exactly how am I going to get the most kills? I made a fucking promise back there and I will look like a fool if I don't keep it!"

Terrence sighs and suddenly grabs me by my shoulders turning me towards him. I try to resist, but he keeps me in a steady grip and stars into my eyes. "Is that what matters to you? To impress all the other losers in the districts? You're in the games now. People much stronger have you died in there. Your strong and you know the games from me, so you have the chance to win. Maybe you will come home a victor, and does some random promise really matter then?"

"No," I mutter. "But this is my one time to prove myself! How can I live with myself if I let Peter win?"

"You can still kill people. Just because you hide in the early game doesn't mean you will win without a kill. Just be alone until the careers are all split up and then pick them off. Be smart Quintin." Terrence says and sighs. "You want to win right?"

"Yes but-"

"Look, Quintin. Who has won the games? You or me?"

"You, but I will-"

"Yeah yeah you will and you will but you still haven't. I am the only reason you even have a chance to win but you still won't listen to me! I'm going to be completely honest with you now. I'm proud of you. You're strong and you have shown that you learn with great enthusiasm. You're the only boy I have seen potential in other than that Peter boy. So you need to follow all my orders, despite I know that you have a hard time with them because I'm not wasting all that time I spent teaching you."

"I guess so," I say half-nonchalantly. Him bossing me around makes my blood boil and for the sake of my sanity, I have to seem like I'm fighting back. But I respect Terrence. I know that he knows best and I won't tell him to shut up. And I hope he knows that. Because I don't know how else to signal it otherwise.

"Quintin, I know why you come to me. Even when we were little kids my brother seemed like he was possessed by a demon. The first thing he did when I was reaped was selling my valuables and trying to take my girlfriend. She was broken of sadness of course and would never cheat me, but I was glad I came home. My brother doesn't like it when they don't do as he says. He must have treated you even worse. That's why you came to me right?"

I don't answer, because I don't have anything to say. Everything he does is bringing back the memories.

"Now look, you'll win. I know you will. My brother expects you to come back and thank him for making you strong so you could win. He only cares about the riches. But you'll show him. You will win, you will take your revenge and then you'll live with me in the victor village. I don't care about any additional riches, so you'll be satisfied with me as company. I would like someone else to join me. I'm lonely anyway. Think about it. Just me and you. No one of our family, no Peter and no suckers else in the district. I know you want it. So can you promise me to win?"

It contradicts everything I have ever done. I have always been a social guy, going around in the district having fun. But the first thing I would do when I come home would be to rest. I'm just so tired of everyone's shit. Terrence is the only guy I could tolerate being around. Everyone else is just so damn annoying!

Terrence inspects me closely. "Now I will hug you."

"No absolutely not-" I don't even finish my sentence before Terrence envelops me in a giant bear hug. I curse quietly and do my best to try to wiggle out of his grips, but I'm no match for his muscular arms

Great.

Paul Stallone

District 10

There must be more money.

"Why the hell do you want a rocking horse?"

I keep eye contact with Anna as she stares me with a baffled expression. I continue to chip away the cookie I have in my hand with shaking teeth. Mabel is sitting next to me staring down at her plate like she always does, meaning it's basically only me and Anna who have conversations. She doesn't understand me anyway. How could she?

Our escort, 8, is even less talkative than Mabel. He's way too creepy for me taste. I can't even see his face since it's covered by a black mask with only small springs for him to see. The mask itself is hard to see because of the giant black hat and jacket covering it. I haven't seen him taking off his clothes ever since my name was called but he locks himself at least in his room every night.

I asked him yesterday why he doesn't dress up as normal people (a perfectly reasonable question) and he seemed really offended by it. He said with his very distorted voice because he uses a voice changer if it wasn't enough, that it was normal and that "mystery fashion" was the latest trend in the capitol but that a savage like me wouldn't understand. Unnecessary rude in my opinion. And with the latest fashion does he mean there are more people running around having numbers for names?

The capitol truly is bizarre.

There must be more money.

"I need a rocking horse. I can't think otherwise," I mutter, lost in my train of thoughts. I finish the cookie and immediately start on another one. Despite all the luxury, it seems like they only have chocolate cookies. Such a shame. I don't like chocolate.

"Yeah, I heard that the first time! But why do you need a rocking horse? You're 12, not 6 for god sake!"

"I already said that! I need it to think!"

"Why do you need a rocking horse to think?"

"It keeps my mind busy!"

"That's the complete opposite of thinking!"

"I don't care! You don't understand! None of you understand! Just give me my damn rocking horse!" I bury my anger by taking another cookie on top of the one I already have and shove them up into my mouth. Why won't she just shut up and help me? Before I do something I rash, I need to calm down and think why I am fighting. To get enough money.

There must be more money.

I have seen how much money every victor has. It's enough to cover all of mom's expensive shopping trips and bribe the peacekeepers so they won't investigate our house. Then she will finally notice us. Then she will light up like whenever I bring her the money I won from my bets.

After my outrage everyone else is quiet. Well, 8 and Mabel was already quiet from the beginning anyway. Anna seems to consider her options for what she's about to say. I feel like telling I want my rocking horse again just so she understands, but I realize it would only anger her further. I take another cookie.

"Look, I get that you need something like a rocking horse, but there must be something more effective you can use-"

"Just. Give. Me. My. Rocking. Horse."

There must be more money.

"Just give him his rocking horse," Mabel mutters from the other side of the table. Her voice lacks any fire behind them despite the fierce words, and she mostly just sounds tired. Like she is tired of our argument and just wants her to keep quiet. Anna glances at Mabel and bites her lip.

"I'll get you a rocking horse if that's what you need," Anna says and sighs.

"Thanks," I whisper and nod.

Anna glances at me with pity in her eyes. "Just you know, I'm here to try to bring you back. If you need help, just ask me."

"I know," I mutter.

"So do you have a strategy or something? A cornucopia plan maybe? We can start there-"

"I kill someone." I simply state. Anna raises an eyebrow at me.

There must be more money.

"What do you mean by that?"

"I'll kill someone in the bloodbath. That's my bloodbath plan."

"You talk very lightly about death for a twelve-year-old. Are you sure you're ready to kill someone?" she says and crosses her arms. Now it's my time to raise an eyebrow at her. The point of the hunger game is to kill the others and return victorious. I don't need to agree with it to understand that I don't have a voice in the matter, as long as I don't do something rebellious like committing suicide. And I would like to live thank you very much. Not that it would have any bigger impact on the situation.

"I can't decide if I want to be here or not. What I can decide if I'm ready to do what it takes to win. It can't be any harder than seeing animals died."

In district 10, everyone has observed animals' death. It's unavoidable, even the richer kids and those who doesn't even work with meat have experienced it. At first, it's scary, but if you have seen it enough you become numb. I don't like it. It's only the butchers who really go numb. But I can handle this. Because I can win this.

I will win this.

THERE MUST BE MORE MONEY!

I cover my ears and shake my head in an attempt to quiet the voices. They won't stop until I win. That's why I need to win. I resist the temptation to scream and when I eventually calm down, I notice that 8 has his eyes locked on me, inspecting me like a cow for sale.

Anna, however, seems unmoved.

"Oh, believe me. It's much different." She stands up from her chair and starts to walk towards the elevator. "I'll get you you're rocking horse if that's what you want. Otherwise, we're done."

I blink a few times, trying to understand what I said wrong. Was it something about my bloodbath plan or? Still, it doesn't change that I offended someone who cared about me. I'm starting to feel like crying, but I drown the temptations with cookies.

There must be more money.

Mabel announces that she is going to sleep and I can almost hear her collapsing once she comes to her bed. I decide to wait for my rocking horse to attempt to predict the victor tonight, which shouldn't be any different than predicting a horse. When I reach for another cookie I notice that the jar is empty.

8 coughs, the first noise he has made today. "So uhm, Paul-"

"Do you know if they have any more cookies?" I ask without looking at him.

He seems a bit stunned by my reply. "Sure," he says and reaches towards a locker above the counter. "Do you want chocolate again or something else?"

"Anything but chocolate."

8 puts a bowl of strawberry flavored cookies on the table, surprisingly without asking why I want them. I immediately grab one and start to nibble on it. As I chew on the round sweet 8 still stands beside me, seemingly unsure how to react before he takes the seat the opposite of me. He crosses his gloved hands in front of him, tilting his head as he observes me. Or that's at least what I think, because I can't see his eyes.

"So, Paul… I would have something to ask you."

There must be more money.

"Something a savage could answer?" I mutter, still having a bad taste in my mouth from the conversation from yesterday. Add my argument with my mentor and I really don't feel like talking to anyone. Maybe Mabel. She seems nice enough.

"I'm sorry about calling you that. It was a heated moment really, and I felt insulted too. But sorry." He scratches his back, well, attempts too anyway because he only reaches the coat. Irritated, he crosses his hands again. "I may have misjudged you."

I don't reply, deciding to wait what he more to say before commenting.

"When how you talked about how you needed the rocking horse to distract yourself and then the scene when you're covered your ears it seemed familiar. So tell me, Paul, do you hear voices?"

There must be more money.

This time I look up on him, feeling a bit shocked by his observation. I stare with wide eyes into what I think are his eyes behind the black mask.

"Yes."

There must be more money.

"What to they say, Paul? What do the voices say?" I can imagine a smile forming behind his mask, but I refuse to answer. It's not his problem to take care off, and I can keep them in check on my own. If I get money, they stop. If mom's happy, they stop. If I ride my rocking horse, they stop. It isn't harder than that. I can handle it. I think.

8 doesn't seem too amused by my silence.

"Please, Paul, just tell me what they say! I can help you."

"I don't need help."

"Paul, I know how destructive schizophrenia can be..."

"Don't use that word!"

There must be more money.

8 recoils in his seat, clearly taken aback by my anger. My sister used to use that word, like there was something wrong with me. Like I was crazy. I'm perfectly fine. Just a little bit special. Everyone's special right? That's what my friend always said. Everyone's unique and have their own quirks.

My sister was worried about me, so her trying to tell me I'm schizophrenic was more cute than offensive. 8 however, has no reason to talk about me.

"Why not, Paul?" 8 asks, not taking the hint that I don't want to talk about it.

"Because you say it like I'm crazy or something! I'm not!"

8 is quiet for a few seconds before he answers:

"You said that you need the rocking horse to distract yourself. By that, I assume that the voices disturb you and you want silence when your thinking. Am I right so far?"

I consider telling him to shut up, but I doubt it will work since he's hellbent on trying to "help" me. Answering won't hurt me, and maybe he will shut up then. Of course, that's very optimistic of me.

"Yes."

"I can help to make them quieter. I can't remove them, but you don't to want to do that anyway. Wouldn't that feel good? So Paul, what do they say?"

I haven't thought about that. But it makes sense now that I think about it. They are annoying and I do like the silence. But at the same time I'm not sure if I can trust him. I don't know if I can trust anyone. He'll probably do some weird psychiatric shit and I'll be scared forever. But the pros outweighs the cons if it shows that he can make them more quiet.

There must be more money.

"There must be more money."

"And why do they say that?" he immediately hits me with. I recoil a little confused by his question. What does he mean by "why do they say that?". They've always said that, or at least ever since I realized we needed money. That's the motivation I need to make mom happy again.

I slowly reach for another cookie and start eating on it, feeling a bit full after eating so many cookies. For some reason I want to tell 8 about them, even if every voice of reason inside of me tells me not too.

"They're my motivation. So we can get enough money," I mutter.

"So it's because of the money? Why do you need more money?" My answers are just causing more and more question. I can feel my blood starting to boil but I keep my calm for now. Just a few more questions. Then he will go away.

"Because my mom always said to me that we needed more money. And we did. She doesn't care about anyone as long as they don't have money. So when I finally get enough money she will finally care about us."

There must be more money.

8 sighs, like he already expected a similar answer. "Paul, you're a good kid. You have schizophrenia because you want your mothers love, despite how cheesy it sounds. But you need to understand that if your mother only cares about you if you have money, chances are that's the only thing she cares about. I can already tell that you're planning to win for the money in hope to impress your mother, but she will mostly likely just take it for herself. Paul, for the voices to be quiet you need to realize that you need to win for yourself and not for you mother. Forget her for now. Focus on yourself a little."

I stop eating the cookie, trying to process what he just said. First off, how dare he insult my mom? She does care about me! A lot! Just when I have money. Just when I have money.

But I don't want money. I want money so the voices become silent, and it strikes that the same thing I defended just a few minutes ago is the one I have been trying to get rid of for ages. Even if I wouldn't want to be with mom, then who would I go with? John, my old friend? Does he even count as a friend any longer? Would he accept me?

Maybe my uncle Oscar. There doesn't go a day without I miss him. He would always buy me sweets when we passed the merchant part of the district and he would always bet on the horses I predicted on. Despite him leaving me to James he still came back to say goodbye and give me my token. He would accept me with open arms and even try to help me.

But no, I can't think like that. I can't think like that about my mother. She has shown affection in the past. Just very rarely. But I can't give up now. Then everything I have done have become a waste.

There must be more money.

"I can't," I say and for once doesn't reach for the cookie pot since I'm starting to feel ill.

"If you can't you can't, but please keep it in mind. If you feel like you need help you can always ask me. I'll be there for you until the games start."

I nod complementing what I am about to say next when the elevator door suddenly opens. I turn around expecting Anna to storm in, but it is instead two avoxes carrying a wooden rocking horse.

With an excited smile I jump out of my chair while the avoxes looks at me like I'm naked. They put it down before hurrying towards the elevator, giving me a worried glance. I ignore them, as they are like everyone else who doesn't understand me. Only my sister, Oscar and 8 I realize now understands me. And that brings me to something else that have been nagging me.

"Why do you go through all this trouble to help me? And how do you so much about the voices?" I say as I turn around to face him.

He sighs deeply. "My twin brother… also hears the voices. I have been supporting him ever since we started speaking. I know how hard it can be and some part of me sees him in you. Despite I said some weird things about you yesterday, I do want the best for my tributes. I didn't pick you for nothing."

I look down on my feet not knowing where to start. He's pitying me, and a part of me doesn't like that. It just feels wrong. But I can't reject him now. Not after all that.

There must be more money.

"Thanks, but this is my battle. I have it under control. I know what to do. I will win this game and make mom proud. That's my current goal."

"Just one last question, but this is the last one. How did you get your money before you were reaped? Please don't tell me you stole it."

"I bet on horses."

"You could get enough money by gambling?"

"It's easy to predict a winner if your observant enough and have enough time. That's why I want the rocking horse. Just like I will predict the winner of a horse race, I will predict the victor. Then, I will kill them in the bloodbath."

8 doesn't comment or protest my statement, just standing besides me with his hands in his pockets. I grab another cookie and take my place on the rocking horse.

"You have eaten a lot of cookies today. Are there anything more to it than you finding them tasty?"

"I'm stressed. Eating helps."

Deep down, somewhere, I feel like he was right. With everything.

The District 1 girl looked particularly tough today.

There must be more money.

? ? ? ? ? ? ? ? ?

? ? ? ? ? ?

Eve of the 84th Hunger Games

On the night before the hunger games, there's only one place where it is quiet.

If you go past the game's building until you hit a dead end, then leave the main road to the left you will eventually get to Rosestar Avenue. Walk there until you find the lamp post with a wooden rooster on top of it. Right next to it you should find Martin's Café.

That's what my mother always told me whenever we went to the café in case I someday wanted to go there myself. It's somewhat a tradition for us, going to it whenever we need some quiet time.

The café is open 24 hours 7 days a week. It's not particularly popular, and it's usually only about 5 people every time I visit it. Sometimes I and bartender joke about that my family is singlehandedly keeping the cafe running. That's about how often I visit the cafe. Partly because of the good food, partly because of the memories.

I'm completely alone tonight. Not a big surprise considering tomorrow is the start of the hunger games. I have been trying to be excited about the games this year, but I find it only harder and harder. Not that I dislike the games, usually I sit with my eyes glued to the TV like everyone else in the capitol.

But as a high school student the stress is definitely taking its toll on me. When most of my days are spent studying I find myself wanting to rest on the few days off. I guess I screwed myself over with my dream. If I just took the necessary education I would be home with my parents and cheer at my favorite tributes.

I wonder who will be my favorite this year. Maybe the Dariah from district 2 will win. I liked it when sung at her interview. Or the feisty girl from 10. She seems like a survivor, despite how small she is and bad mouthed. I think her name was Anne? Annia? Anna?

If I wasn't so ambitious I would be sharing my thought with my sister right now. Despite all my doubts, I don't regret going down this path. Gamemakers are one of the most respected people in the entire capitol, only seconding the Presidents themselves. In the end, it will be worth all the sleepless nights.

Not that it feels that way now anyway.

I sigh and take another drink from my Cola Coca bottle. I'm not old enough to buy alcohol yet, you need to be 21 for that, but soda has always been more appealing to me. Despite circumstances like this when I honestly would want to drink away my problems, I still hold on to my trusty Cola Coca. Maybe I'm still having some nostalgia from the old days.

With a groan, I lightly slam my head on the table, not enough so it hurts, but so anyone else understands I need emotional support. I glance at the bartender in hope that he will ask me if I'm alright, but his eyes glued to the TV on the wall showing recaps of the tributes. Despite being a bit disappointed, I can't blame him. He would most likely rather be home with his family and be hyped for the games.

"Oh don't worry, this time it's on the house," he assures me when I try to pay for the soda.

I sigh and look out of the window at the empty Rosestar street. Usually, there are a few people walking outside, but everyone is gathered at the main square partying. "I don't have anywhere else to go, so… I'll order another one."

"Pour one up for me too," a voice suddenly says from behind me.

I turn around to the boy who takes the seat beside me, smiling his greatest smile at me. His hair is painted completely orange with yellow sparks making it look like fire. It fits with his orange and black button-up shirt, that is loosened up halfway up, and orange lipstick on top of it.

He takes the glass of soda and drinks it in one sweep, sighing out when he put it's back again. I keep my eyes glued to him, not understanding why he decided to come to this lonely bar. For some reason, I decide to one him up and tries to drink my soda the same as him, only for the drink to get stuck in my throat and I violently coughs it up. Once the boy sees that I'm okay, he chuckles.

"Well, that was a bit too fast to drink soda even by my standards. I'll get you another one," he says as he snaps to the bartender to get his attention.

"By the way, why did you choose this bar? There must be at least twenty other bars that are more popular and better than this one," I ask as I take the sip from my new Cola Coca. The boy chuckles at that too.

"I just left one of those bars you talked about, but on my way home I saw you sitting all sad and wanted to see if I could cheer you up!" he says with a smile and suddenly reaches out with his hand. "We haven't presented ourselves yet, so what's your name?"

After some considering, I take his hand and shake it.

"Neah," I reply. "Neah Hawston."

He smiles brightly at me.

"I'm Fyrios."

Alliances:

Somewhat functional careers: Blush(D1F), Remus(D1M), Emerald(D4F), Alexi(D4M), Olivia(D7F)

WWW: Winchester(D5F), Willow(D11F), Wilson(D11M)

District 3 siblings: Lana(D3F), Thomas(D3M)

Everything is fine, nothing is wrong here: Dania(D9F), Kris(D12F)

I actually updated in less of a month! It's been a bit over two weeks since I updated, which I'm happy about. School is ending in three days which means I have about three weeks of vacation when I can write, so expect even faster updates! I got a bit carried away with Paul's section, but I'm happy with his chapter. Other than that I don't have much to say, other than I am excited to hear your theories about the last POV and there's a new poll on my profile. Now it's about who you think will get to the final eight, so don't forget to vote on that!

Also, has anyone seen Interstellar? I just saw it moments before I post this and it's the best movie I have ever seen. If you haven't watched it, watch it. Now. You won't regret it.

The next chapter is Training Day Two with Lana, Wilson and Casey!