{Hi, sorry, a little bit before the A/N... sorry for disappearing for a week, I'm further behind than I was expecting with uni work. I also forgot I had this whole thing already written and all I had to do was proof read and post it. And becuase I'm so behind with work but wanted to remind you that I'm still here, I decided to forgo the proof reading for now. There should be no obvious problems because I ten to skim read every section after I've written it, but if there is sorry... So anyway, enjoy that's all...}

Welcome to the last pre-games chapter. I hope this first half of the SYOT has made you fall in love with at least some of the tributes, because I know I have. Killing these people off is going to be so hard. So here we are, the tributes last night in the Capitol!

This is one of those weird chapters where I didn't have a plan. I knew I wanted to write some cute stuff with the tributes (or at least some of them...) having fun, and so I just sat and wrote whatever came to me, and we ended up with this mess. There are eight very different POV's here, and I hope you find at least one of them enjoyable. Not much actual story happens here, but some nice stuff does, and hey, this might be the last time you see some of these guys alive...

Tributes Quarter Quell Party

Hypatia- District One Female

Hypatia had ditched the party at the first chance she got. It was so painful sitting there watching the tributes get along, whether it was fake or not. In a few hours, none of it would matter. They would all be on a level field, literally. Whether they had alliances or skills or some very well hidden talents, it wouldn't matter, they were all destined for the same fate, as much as Hypatia was concerned. Death. Now more than ever, she was convinced that she could make it out on top. She had no strings, no one she particularly liked in here, so there would be no guilt about killing them. Apart from the child, that could prove an issue for her conscience, but Hypatia was sure that sooner or later, without her influence, the Capitol would have their way and the small girl would perish. It was sad, how desensitized Hypatia was, but she only dwelled on that fact for a second, it was more a blessing, to know she had the power to kill and feel absolutely nothing.
The girl closed her eyes, kicking her feet up onto the table in front of her, having retreated back to the communal area of her apartment, knowing that no one else would leave the party to find her. For a few precious moments, she was away from the glare of the Capitol and the pressure from other tributes, and the continued feeling that she was supposed to pretend to be more than she actually was. She began tracing the outline of the tattoo on her wrist. It was a plain black flower, a complete mess of an image, but it had been done by her younger brother almost five years ago, and so she cherished it, even as the pattern began to fade. For a brief minute, Hypatia let her mind wander to home, and how her brothers were coping without her. She had always been the breadwinner of the family, and whilst they had all worked, it was Hypatia that translated this money into food and the food into dinners, without her, she was scared they would be lost.

As harsh as Hypatia felt, she knew she couldn't worry about that now. At this time, staying alive herself was her main priority. She had to fight off twenty three other people so that she could get home to be with her three brothers once more. Hypatia had the plans laid out, once she knew she could put into practise, it was just whether or not these tributes were being truthful. She knew at least half of them had vowed not to kill, but on the ground, she was sure their plans would change, something she would have to adapt to.
It would work in her favour if they all began ruthless killing machines. Firstly, Hypatia knew they would never have the skill to operate properly, but if another tributes managed to kill at least one person, that was once less job for her, the thought of which made her face form a twisted grin.

"Big day tomorrow." Vesta, the District One escort and someone who Hypatia had grown strangely close to, walked into the room, taking a seat on the opposite side of the table. "My money's on you to win." She spoke, sending the tribute a wink. A mixture of pride and nerves washed over Hypatia. That was good, people thought she would win, but it was also pressure, she now had to be completely sure that she could pull it off, not only would she be letting herself and her family down, but probably the only person in the Capitol she would ever care about.

"Thanks." Hypatia replied, blandly. The thing she was looking most forward to about the start of the Games, was the fact that talk about the Games would finally be over. She would no longer have to talk about her allies in an interview, or about her tactics with her allies. She could just do what she wanted, when she wanted, without having to explain it. "How are the sponsors looking?"

"Hypatia, you know I'm not supposed to tell you that." Vesta looked sternly at the girl in front of her, before her face softened. "Surprisingly well." She answered reluctantly. "On the list of favourite tributes, you're coming in at fifth. They're believing you." Vesta was the only person that knew about the charade Hypatia was performing, that her sweet act of pretending that killing people was out of the question was just that. An act.

"Fifth?" Hypatia sat up, swinging her legs down, suddenly becoming more alert. "Behind who?" She pleaded, knowing that Vesta couldn't tell her.

The escort said nothing, and instead pulled a pen from her pocket and scribbled something down on a piece of paper.

"Vivian, Salome, Newton, Arbor." She whispered, reading the list of names over and over. The only name there that surprised her was Arbor, but then again, he was attractive and protective of his girlfriend, every teenage girl's dream, so it made sense.

What also made sense, was that these people had to be the first to go.

Locke- District Two Male

Locke was not letting his daughter out of his sight. It was too close to the Games now to leave her to be influenced by another tribute. This was the endgame, and he was not losing because his daughter was foolish enough to make a friend that would eventually betray them. Since the scores reveal the day prior, Locke had witnessed the other tributes trying to get closer to Salome, they all wanted someone on their side who they knew had the skills to survive this thing and whilst Locke knew he was being wildly over-protective, he believed it was worth it to stop the alternative: death.

"Do you think mum would be proud of me?" Salome asked, as they sat at the far end of the banquet table. By now, most of the tributes had left the feast that the Capitol had provided for them after the interviews and had begun to explore the scene in the vast garden outside. Locke was thankful for the silence that had come over the room, most of the tributes may have been harmless in terms of fighting, but they were annoying, so self righteous and principled. Locke knew full well that all that would end when they got into the Games, he had seen it happen to countless tributes in the past. Survival was everyone's main goal the minute they stepped into that arena, everything they had previously thought about themselves was lost.
Salome's question about her mother took Locke suddenly off guard, it wasn't often they talked about emotions, let alone his ex-wife. But he supposed it must be on his daughters mind, Salome and her mother may never have been especially close, but he knew that making Celeste proud was something Salome had always strived to do, even if it meant setting her own goals and wishes aside.

"Salome, it would be impossible for her not to be proud." He smiled fondly at his child. She had managed to be the best physical tribute, as well as projecting a great image to the Capitol, and helping the other tributes. Locke doubted that that was down to the training and coaching both he and Celeste had forced Salome to endure- it was because she was just a good person, the type of person anyone would be lucky to have in an alliance, once again, why Locke had to keep her away. "She came to visit me, Celeste, your mother." Locke confessed, confusion growing on Salome's face. The parents were hardly on good terms, and in the few moments they had spent together where they weren't arguing about Salome's future, they barely spoke. "She told me to keep you safe. And then she kissed me." Despite being a grown man, Locke felt like a child again, confessing his first kiss, telling secrets to his friends that would never be secrets for long. But that's how it had felt when Celeste had kissed him for the first time in years. He felt like that child again, getting his first kiss and falling in love for the first time. Nothing would ever come of their brief moment. Locke was never going to see the love of his life again.

"Ahhhh," Salome spoke up, something Locke was thankful for as it stopped the spiraling thoughts consuming him. "That's why her makeup looked a mess when she came to see me, and here's me thinking it was the tears." Salome crossed her arms over her chest in fake annoyance, concealing the fact that she was happy that her parents had found each other again, even at the worst possible timing.

"Oh come on, Salome, you know your mother doesn't cry."

Alfred- District Three Male

"Thank you for organising that thing for Newton." Alfred approached Florence from behind, an aura of confidence in his voice, so that no one would have known it took him twenty five minutes to approach the girl. Newton's interview had been going badly, he was sitting there alone on stage, his alliance in the wings racking their brains for what they could do to help, and then Florence had approached and organised their support rally in an instant.

"It was nothing." Florence spoke, shaking her head, and it was clear to Alfred that she was blushing. "Us introverts have to stick together, right?"

"Right." Alfred agreed. Florence had never seemed overly introverted to him. Her interview had been slightly awkward, but aside from that she seemed to get on well with all the tributes, fitting in to an alliance easily, it came as a shock to him to find that she wasn't as comfortable around people as she appeared to be. "Can I get you a drink?" Alfred asked, this time he was the one blushing. "The Capitol champagne is lovely." Everything Alfred had done tonight was so unlike him, drinking, talking to people, laughing, pretending that they all weren't awaiting their deaths.

"Thanks, but I'm seventeen. That's illegal in the Capitol..." The girl shrugged, looking everywhere but at Alfred.

He lent in closer, his voice barely above a whisper. "You think anyone here really cares? They want a show, some drama, they're not going to stop you from having a drink." The old Alfred was a sucker for the rules. In the past he would never have dared even suggest something like that, but living with a death sentence over his head had changed him. His life was too short.
As if on cue, a waiter walked past, a tray of glasses balanced on his hand. Alfred helped himself to two, keeping one for himself and handing one to the girl in front of him.

"Thank you, sir." Florence answered, taking a sip from the drink, her breath taken away by the sudden bubbles. They stood in the centre of the field in the garden, tributes mingling around them. Both Alfred and Florence had lost sight of their alliances but in that moment, neither of them cared.

"Do you want to maybe dance?" Alfred fiddled with his hands in front of him, picking at his nail hanging on his thumb. This was a girl. A real life girl, and not only was he talking to her, but he was asking her to dance. Alfred didn't dance, this was so beyond his comfort zone, but the longer he waited to move, the less time he had to do so. His most precious currency was minutes, none of which he was going to throw away by being nervous. He held his hand out to Florence before she had even answered him, just praying that she would accept. After a moment, she slid her hand into his, and they began to dance, twirling to the subtle classical music the Capitol was providing.
Alfred suddenly became self conscious, there was no one else dancing and he could feel people watching him. But then he looked across into Florence's eyes, and the way she smiled back at him and suddenly, all the embarrassment was worth it. Slowly, they were joined by the other tributes, Flynt and Lilac first, then Diva and Newton, Cassia and Arbor, Aila and Lana, and even Ezra and Ronin. It felt like the school prom Alfred had never attended, apart from this time it was with a bunch of people he had only known for a week.

Nautilus- District Four Male

"Luster told me to jump." Dory had escorted Nautilus off to the corner of the banquet hall, holding his hands tightly in her own. "He caught me crying and I told him that I was scared and I didn't know how I was going to do it and he told me that there was a way out." Dory rambled, becoming more and more frantic as she went.
Nautilus felt red hot rage burn within him. How dare he? Nautilus had never thought someone that sick could have existed. Dory was barely out of her childhood, if Luster had been manipulating one of the older tributes, he would have seen it merely as playing the game, and whilst that was still wrong, this was beyond that. This was just cruel. "What's worse is that I actually considered it." dory spoke again, quieter this time, hanging her head almost in shame.

"Oh, Dory." The anger in Nautilus was fading, now he was just sad, as he pulled Dory in for a hug, resting his chin on the top of her head. "Don't ever think like that. You are strong, stronger than Luster. And I know how scary it is, I'm terrified, but we have each other. And we have D'ante and Aila and Lana. think about us, you're a better aim than any of us, we'll be dead in that arena without you." Nautilus had been protective over Dory from the start, not in a parental way as such, he saw them as equals, he just cared for her, and had a sense of duty to get her home. This girl was the best the Districts had to offer, she represented the good heart of Panem, for her to die in the Games would be a waste. The thought of Dory not being here made Nautilus lose the little scrap of hope he had that the world could be a good place. "I swear to you though, if I see Luster before tomorrow, I will knock him out."

"You can't." Dory pleaded suddenly, pulling away so she was able to look Nautilus in the eye. "You can't tell him I told you. He asked me to keep it to myself, I'm scared he'll hurt me, or worse, you."

"Okay, okay." Nautilus nodded, taking Dory's hand and running his thumb over the back. "But if I see him in the Games, that no killing rule goes out the window." He explained, receiving a reluctant nod from Dory. nautilus knew that killing someone was something that he would never come back from, even if they were a useless waste of space like Luster, but what the man also knew, was that he would never make it out of the arena. He had a list of twenty two other tributes that deserved to go home ahead of himself, and Nautilus knew that he would do everything in his power to ensure one of them made it home.

"It's not fair. Why does a good man like you have to be here? Why do you and Luster both have to go through the same thing, when you don't deserve it at all?"

"It's not fair." Nautilus repeated nodding his head, there was no other way to put it. "But that's just the way it is. At least the Luster problem is dealt with, I'm so glad you told me."

What both Nautilus and Dory failed to notice, however, was that the District Four girl was not the only impressionable young one that Luster had been talking to.

Lya- District Six Female

Despite being surrounded by twenty three other tributes, Lya was lonely. It was something she had experienced her whole life. She was never truly alone, always in front of some sort of crowd, cheering for her or her father, or the cars he had designed, but still the constant loneliness plagued her. What was different about this loneliness, however, was that Lya welcomed it. Being lonely in this place was so much better than the alternative, having someone you cared about and watching them die. Of course she had Florence and Flynt and Lilac, but that was another situation. They had been brought together by the Games, they all knew what was going to happen, she couldn't bear the thought of being brought in here with someone from the outside. Yet still, as she sat perched on the end of the banquet table swinging her legs, she couldn't help but wish for someone to talk to, someone who wasn't fixated on the Games.
Lya heard the table creek behind her and turned to find Jordan sitting a few inches behind her. So much for finding someone that wasn't fixated on the Games.

"I thought you would be up dancing naked on the table or something." Lya spoke bluntly, if she was forced to have a conversation with the tribute she liked least, she wasn't holding back. She had literally nothing to lose, either. The days of being nice where over, alliances had been formed and confirmed, it was all out war now between the other tributes.

"Why would you even say that?" Jordan threw his hands in the air, clearly confused and even slightly hurt by the sudden hostility Lya had provided. She felt bad, but not bad enough to stop.

"Oh, come on Jordan, everyone knows you love a show." She smirked, raising her eyebrow at him. At the start, everyone had been slightly scared of Jordan and whilst that fact was still true, Lya was so tired of avoiding the inevitable confrontation that everyone was longing to have with him. Maybe upsetting him twelve hours before the Games were due to begin wasn't the best idea though…

"Huh." The boy murmured, swinging himself off of the table and walking round to stand in front of Lya. "What a show it would be if I slapped you right now."

"It would be," Lya nodded her head in agreement, it would certainly be entertaining, if only for her and Jordan rather than the other tributes. "But then you would have an angry alliance on your back from the second you stepped foot in the arena." She shrugged, before pushing herself off of the table and standing next to Jordan. "So I think the table dancing would be a much better option."

Jordan looked between Lya, the table and the mix of tributes and Capitol citizens that still remained in the banquet hall having yet to spill out to the garden. "I will if you will." Jordan breathed out, and Lya could sense the reluctance in his voice.

"You're on. But not the naked part."

"Deal." Jordan concluded, the originally confrontational conversation going the way neither had expected. He pulled himself onto the table, before crouching down to give Lya a hand up. She ignored his gesture, and hoisted herself up next to him with ease, smirking as she did so, nodding to her prosthetic arm and the added strength it provided her with.
Lya closed her eyes and began to dance, swinging her head to an invisible beat, her hair that had been so nicely stilled becoming a knotted mess. She was used to entertaining people, but that was in cars, where they were looking at the machinery and not at her. But now, she was on show, and whilst the chariot rides and the private sessions and the interviews had made her feel so uncomfortable, this felt strangely right. She could feel the eyes from confused onlookers trailing across her body, but for some reason, she didn't care. As her hand found Jordan's, and they continued jumping to music that wasn't playing, Lya realised for the first time just how much she would miss life.

Flynt- District Seven Male

"Never have I ever kissed a guy." The usually sensible Ezra came alive after two drinks. He sat next to Flynt in the circle, with Lilac, Ronin, Doug and Dina, a mixed bunch, playing drinking games and acting like teenagers. It was a welcome distraction and alternative from the high stakes that had consumed their last week. Perhaps it was their last chance to laugh and have fun, but that was something Flynt didn't want to dwell on.

Lilac drank, leaning on Flynt and winking as she did so. Then Dina drank, rolling her eyes, of course she had kissed a guy. Then much to everyone's surprise Ronin drank, looking down at the floor.
Finally, after a brief pause, Flynt drank, images of Alder and that last day in the Justice Building flooding his mind. No one seemed to notice and even if they did, they said nothing, and Flynt let out a silent thanks. He wasn't embarrassed that Alder had kissed him, it had been a shock but he wasn't angry, instead Flynt was embarrassed about the way he dealt with it. He ruined his last moment with his best friend, not Alder, and Flynt was becoming more and more sure that he would never get to make that right. Without considering his actions, Flynt stood up, Lilac slipping off from his knee where she had been leaning.

"There's something I need to do." Flynt spoke as she bent down and kissed the top of Lilac's head. "I'll be back in a minute." Without waiting for anyone to question him, as they inevitably would, Flynt took off running back towards the apartment block, heading straight to the accommodation he shared with Florence. "Sorry, Flo." He muttered, grabbing her sketchbook and tearing out twenty three blank pages. He felt incredibly bad about it but figured if she died in the Games, she would never know, and if she survived them, she would have all the money in the world to buy a new one. Still, he would apologize for it later.
He sat down on his bed, grabbing a pen from Florence's draw and began writing a message that he would copy over again, twenty three times.

Dear Alder,
If you're reading this I'm dead. Sorry, I've just always wanted to start something like that. But seriously, I am dead, and you would know that by now, hell the whole of Panem would.
I want you to know that I'm sorry. I'm sorry that I didn't feel the same way, that I couldn't love you back. And mostly I'm sorry about the way I reacted….

"What the hell are you doing?" A man that Flynt had never met before, but whose face he recognised stood in the doorway, staring.

"I-, sorry, who are you?" Flynt stuttered, scared that he had somehow broken the rules.

"It doesn't matter who I am." Clem tucked his hands into the suit of his pocket. "I was in the room next door, meeting with your District's escort, and I heard you run through, I thought something was wrong." The Head Gamemaker was breaking all the rules, for the second time this year. But there was something about the way the tall District Seven boy stood there, so helpless and emotional, that made Clem's heart break.

"I know who you are." Flynt spoke, the thought dawning on him, and he clenched his hands at his side. "You're the bastard who made all this happen." Flynt had every intention of knocking the man in front of him out. He would go down in history if he did just that. The man who took down the Head Gamemaker and started a rebellion on the eve of the Hunger Games. Yet he had no will to move.
Clem hung his head, before nodding, and Flynt could almost swear he saw a bit of humiliation on the man's face, almost as if he was embarrassed by his job. It was perhaps the last reaction Flynt expected the man to have, and he felt something like pity for the man who had made his life a living hell over the last few days.

"You're writing a letter." Clem replied bluntly, ignoring Flynt's revelation and pointing at the pile of paper on the bed. Tentatively, he walked forward, picking up the scraps of badly torn paper, and rifling through them. "You're writing the same letter?" He questioned, setting the stack back down. "Oh, I get it. One for every tribute, so whoever survives can deliver it. Nicely played, but you know you get searched when you enter the Games right?"

Shit. Flynt had known his plan was too good to be true, and there was the fault. He sat onto the bed, defeated, all will to fight the Gamemaker in front of him was gone.

"I'll see what I can do." Clem picked up one of the letters, and a piece of paper that had Flynt's old address written on it, before winking at the tribute and walking out.

Cassia- District Eight Female

Cassia stood in the chapel. It was small, with only about ten seats, not that she needed more than one. She was facing Arbor, her hands entangled in his, the only inhabited chair was taken by a slender man holding a large camera. The only other person in the room was a priest.
Cassia's dress for the interviews was white, that was what gave her the initial idea. And whilst Arbor's checked suit wasn't exactly what she had envisioned her groom to be wearing, he looked as handsome as he always did, and as cliche as it was, Cassia felt like the luckiest girl alive. She had been shocked when she had found the hotel had a chapel, but the Peacekeeper that had escorted them informed the pair of how the Capitol had to adhere to the religious beliefs of tributes. The wedding had been her idea, and whilst she thought that Arbor would deny, the moment he accepted her rather underwhelming proposal on the limo ride over from the interviews had been her happiest. Suddenly them being reaped felt strangely right. If it wasn't for fate ensuring that both of their names were picked, they would never have got back together, and they wouldn't be standing here. The thought that their marriage may only last a day, however, was too much for any of them to pair. When they had informed the Capitol of their crazy plan, the only condition was that it was filmed. This was the first pre-games wedding ever, the Capitol had automatically seen the money making potential it posed. So the pair had reluctantly agreed, and so the bridesmaids, page boy and ring bearer were all played by the cameraman. They had debated inviting the tributes, but the pair's only allies were one another, they needed no one else.

In a whirlwind five minutes, a wedding had been planned, constructed and prepared, and sooner than either of the District Eight pair had been expecting, they were standing opposite each other, ready to commit the rest of their lives to one another, no matter how long or short they may be.

"This is crazy, Arbor." Cassia whispered against her now fiance's ear, smiling as she did so. "But there was no way I could die without being your wife. I'm a trained doctor, for God's sake, I had a life in the Capitol, all the money and food I could ever want. But the whole time, I knew something was missing. Rather, someone was missing. And it was you. Before the reaping, I was already planning on coming back and leaving it all. Living a life in luxury in the Capitol was not worth not being with you." The vows were not traditional by any means, but neither was their wedding. They had never expected to marry this young, let alone in the Capitol, with none of their family around, on the eve of what may be their last day. She slid a ring made of tin foil onto Arbor's finger, giggling as she did so. "Wow, it's a perfect fit."

"I never wanted it to be like this." Arbor smiled sadly. "I wanted to give you the world, to make you feel like you were the only girl to ever exist. I wanted you to know how special you were, to me and to everyone, because that's exactly how you made me feel. You made me realise that I was just more than the lumberjack from Eight, that I was capable of so much more. I love you for that, and I'll never stop loving you, whatever happens tomorrow, and everyday after that."

"Arbor, every second I was with you made me feel like that. You gave me a lifetime of feeling special in the short time we had." Cassia felt the first tear escape her eyes as Arbor placed the makeshift ring on her finger. "And it's not over yet." She didn't wait for the permission from the priest to lean in and kiss the only person she knew she could never live without.

Aila- District Eleven Female

"Come with me." Lana pulled down on Aila's sleeve, clearly tipsy from the champagne the Capitol had generously provided the tributes with. Aila had been more careful with her drinking, limiting herself to just three glasses. The last thing she needed in the morning was a hangover, as if she wanted anything else to destroy her chances in the Games. "Come on." Lana moaned, gripping onto the girl. Aila wasn't sure whether it was in an affectionate way, or because she couldn't walk in a straight line. Regardless the girl obliged, and Lana escorted her to the roof of the apartment building, looking down on the garden below, where half of the merry tributes stood mingling, talking to each other, and forming bonds that they all knew would be broken in a matter of hours.
They looked like ants. So harmless, in the huge world of the Capitol, the luxury that surrounded them was so unlike anything any of them had ever experienced before. But come tomorrow, they would be deadly, brandishing weapons. She knew the decision most of them had made about abstaining from killing would disappear the second the opportunity arose. When it came down to the fight or flight response, these tributes had been conditioned over the last week to fight. They had been conditioned their whole lives to do that, Aila realised the more she thought about it. The girl remembered hearing about the Games when she was barely out of diapers, and it was a constant that had been drilled into her head almost everyday since. There was no way anyone was getting out of this without blood on their hands.

"I hate this." Aila spoke bluntly, taking a step closer to the edge of the rooftop. Lana followed her, more tentatively, the harsh winds that hit her taking the edge of the alcohol she had consumed away. "I hate the way they give us all this, make us feel like we're special, just to snatch it away the minute we start to enjoy it. It just makes me want to scream."

"So scream." Lana shrugged, taking in a deep breath before shouting, her voice taken by the wind, but still loud enough to catch the attention of Diva and Alfred below, who looked up and waved.

Aila copied her friend, tipping her head back, collapsing into laughter as she finished. For the first time in almost her whole life, standing on top of this cold building with a girl she was beginning to love, Aila finally felt free. In this moment, there was no one relying on her, and whilst they all knew what tomorrow held, for just a moment, this was all there was. Just the two of them, and a whole world that was there to explore.
"That actually works." Aila turned to face Lana, catching her breath despite the coldness of the wind. Lana's too had turned around, and the girl's stood inches from one another.

"Do you know what else helps?" Lana mumbled, her usual confident, controlled self was faltering, showing raw emotion.

"I can have a guess." Aila answered, closing the gap between them, and pressing their lips together. Instinctively, her hands reached up, getting lost in Lana's hair, the world disappearing around them. Eventually the two pulled away from one another, but only for a second before kissing once more.

After what felt like seconds, but had actually been a little over five minutes, they both reluctantly pulled away, stepping back from the roof's edge, becoming aware of just how dangerously close to toppling over they had been.
"Yup. That helps as well." Aila concluded as Lana's hand found hers. Aila looked down at the tributes below, now far few then there had been earlier. From their vantage point, Aila's eyes meant D'ante's and she could tell he was smiling as he gave the girl's a thumbs up.

They sat in the centre of the roof, their arms touching, the thought of being away from one another too much to bare, they knew their time was limited, they were existing on snatches of the day, on borrowed time, living a romance that wasn't theirs to have.
"When we win the Games," Lana spoke up, breaking the comfortable silence that had overtaken them. "Can we run away? Steal the money and go to the woods, build our own house and not have to worry about anyone or anything ever again?"

They were both kidding themselves, there was no way they would ever both win the Games, and even if they did, both of their real lives were dominated by responsibilities, that neither of them could escape from.

"I would love nothing more than that." Aila replied, kissing her ally once more.

Oh wow. That's it. All the nice happy (?), fluffy (?) stuff is over, now for the real drama and sadness.

I can not believe that this SYOT has received over 100 lovely reviews. I never anyone would actually submit a tribute, let alone follow this story and review. So from the bottom of my heart, thank you all. Also, it's over 100,000 words long, isn't that just crazy? That's like an entire book... holy shit... Thank you for sticking with me through it all, it's only going to get longer, I'm hoping to end on around 150,000 words, but knowing me, it will end up being over that.

As always, stay well and safe and positive, and I hope you are all ready for the Bloodbath!

Until next time (which is hopefully sooner than usual because the bulk of my essays are done and I have mostly finished the next chapter)

Alice xxx