TRIGGER WARNING: Mention of self-harm in Phoenix's POV, body dysmorphia in Barracuda's POV

Phoenix Adler, 16

District Seven Female

Most tributes disappeared somewhere in the training facility once their interview was over but Phoenix couldn't do that; not when there were so many stories to listen to.

Some of the careers also lingered around backstage, most likely in order to obtain potentially useful information, if Phoenix had to guess.

However, the District Seven girl was here for one reason only. She wanted to learn about these other children. And not because she needed to outsmart them or to know their strengths and weaknesses but simply because life is boring if one only follows their own path.

Life is a criss-cross of intertwining paths. Some people's paths are bound to cross and, at some point, sadly separate as well. Although it is nearly impossible to walk through life solely on one's own path, there's still the possibility of never understanding where others' paths lead to.

And so, Phoenix found it incredibly thrilling to sit back and understand more about the lives of her fellow competitors. However, Phoenix wasn't a fool either. She knew that the interviews were an opportunity to tell a story, a story to potentially get the audience invested in.

The careers all had their distinct personalities and motives. Raja was formal and calculated and talked about her disabled sister. Goud spent most of his time talking about his siblings and how he had always been the least talented one which resonated with the audience.

Nastya was cold and straightforward but she also had a way with words that really impressed Phoenix. It was like she planned out each sentence in her head, weighing the pros and cons of her statement, and yet it never came across as rehearsed. She didn't reveal much about her past which Phoenix found a shame. She might approach the District One girl sometime for a quick chat. Nastya was a vault and Phoenix might have the key that fits perfectly into the lock.

Dimitris was loud, bold, and charismatic. Apparently, he was a well-known tv wrestler which had Phoenix gushing with admiration. He received the most powerful applause out of all the other tributes.

Zo was cheerful and warm but she showed a lot of fighting spirit and Phoenix could sense a fire burning within her that showed no signs of weakening. Her aura was also a bright yellow. So bright, in fact, that it hurt to look at the District Four girl for too long.

Surprisingly, Barracuda, the supposed pack leader, was the most nervous. He fumbled with his fingers and stuttered and most definitely didn't correctly portray the image of someone who should know how to guide his alliance during high-pressure situations. It just goes to show how fear can sneak up even on the seemingly bravest and strongest people.

However, although the careers were very thrilling to listen to, Phoenix found the most pleasure in listening to the younger children. They really knew how to bring their story across and whether they had planned it or it came out spontaneously, Phoenix can tell that they've won over a lot of sponsors.

Mune spoke about the death of their older sister in a previous Games and how it changed them. They said it made them more reserved and introverted. For a long time, they weren't able to properly communicate with other people, and yet they found their friends among the animal kingdom. They mentioned the names of their favorite street cats and how they all had distinct personalities. It was so sad seeing someone go through grief in such a way and it made Phoenix tear up. At that point, she managed to catch the attention of some of the careers, mainly because she was crying with a big smile plastered onto her face, but also because she was the only outlier left among the careers backstage.

The District Nine boy, Johar, however, had the saddest story of all and he wasn't afraid to share it with the public. He spoke about accidentally using a lethal dosage of aru-aru root in the pastries that his parents left him in charge of making. He ended up sending dozens of customers to the hospital and there were even a couple of deaths among the victims. Since he was a minor, his parents were imprisoned for leaving him in charge. He cried during his interview and Phoenix knew how to distinguish between raw human emotions and a façade. The strings around his body went from a faded yellow to a strong dark blue the longer he lingered in the thought of his past.

However, the most unexpected interview was Cecilia's. Phoenix had given both her and Urid a pep-talk since their nerves seemed to be taking over. She was sure that her two allies were going to go up there and shine as brightly as they possibly could. She felt it in her veins. And yet once Cecilia sat in the interview chair and Cynthio began getting rather personal with his questions, she blacked out and went silent. Phoenix knew this side of Cecilia. She had spent enough time with the girl to understand what was about to happen. Once Cynthio began poking at her even more with his intrusiveness, she completely lost it, throwing the small table between their two chairs over and breaking the glasses on the floor. The audience gasped in shock, especially once a few of the glass shards hit the first row. Two backstage crew members went up to Cecilia and guided her away from the stage as she cried.

This is how the three of them find themselves on the rooftop, talking about their biggest fears and insecurities. It was something that Phoenix suggested as a group exercise. She needed to understand what was bothering Cecilia. She needed them to work well together tomorrow or they would all die in the bloodbath.

"There's a darkness within me and I can't control it," Cecilia admits without any emotion in her statement. She was the first to speak up as the three of them sit on one of the garden benches. The sun is setting, giving the sky a warm color. "It's not the first time something like this happens either." She leans back. "The first time it happened was in the girl's bathroom at my school. I was in there alone when one of the girls who frequently bullied me entered. At first, we were just there, the two of us, minding our own business. I was always happy and smiley and quick to forgive so I guess it made sense that they picked on me. I thought she would leave me alone since I tried to keep as much distance between her and myself. And yet as I passed her to exit the bathroom, she called me a desperate slut. The words had absolutely no meaning to them but something in me shut off…" Cecilia goes silent and Phoenix puts her hand on the girl's back.

"What happened next I only remember vaguely… I turned around and took her head and shoved it against the large mirror at the sinks. She was knocked out immediately and I left her there… the blood was still oozing out of her head and I just left her there," she says, her voice getting a little shaky now.

"Did someone find her?" Urid asks, leaning forward to look at Cecilia.

"Yeah… they found her a few minutes later and an ambulance came to pick her up. She survived the concussion but she couldn't remember what happened which is why no one could pin it on me." She sighs. Phoenix catches the tears dripping down her cheek and wipes them away with her finger.

"It was the first time I hurt someone other than myself. I used to just damage my own body as a result of the pain I felt every day. My body was an outlet for me to relieve my emotional pain… I guess at some point my body wasn't enough," Cecilia says, clearly trying to hold herself back from bursting. Urid gets up from his seat and squats down in Infront of Cecilia. He opens his arms for her and she eagerly accepts his embrace.

"I used to be a lot like you, you know," he admits as he holds her. Phoenix runs her hand through the girl's hair gently. "I wanted to change the world but I didn't know how and that made me very angry. I got angry at the people around me but I was mostly mad at myself." He slides his arms away and takes both of her hands in his. "I ended up isolating myself from others because they didn't understand me… they didn't understand the change I wanted. It was this sort of restlessness I couldn't rid myself of and it tore me apart from the inside."

"And what about now?" Cecilia asks.

"Oh, I still live with it," he laughs. "I know it will go away sometime which is why, even when this side of me does resurface, I don't give up. I only look forward. I never glance back because that would be the end of me."

"Humans are ever-changing creatures," Phoenix finally chimes in. "We are meant to go through changes, we are meant to develop our mindsets and our relationships with the people around us. Nothing stays constant." Phoenix gets up from the bench, spotting the District Nine girl on the other side of the rooftop plateau. "You can think of life as a train. It always moves in one direction and in every stop, you have different people entering that impact your life in certain ways." Phoenix notices Cecilia's puzzled expression and smiles. "What I'm trying to say is that the you now will not be the same you in 10 years and-"

"Well, I'm not sure I'm living much longer" she scoffs. "Sorry, I didn't mean to interrupt." Cecilia's eyes sink to the floor.

"No, actually that's a very good point," Phoenix starts. "Right now, we need to focus on one thing and one thing only. We need to survive the bloodbath."

"And we will," Urid adds.

"Yes, we most definitely will. We don't need to think about what happens after that. We just need to keep setting certain checkpoints for ourselves. That way we won't lose sight of the end goal but it also allows us to focus on the current circumstances."

"And our first checkpoint is surviving the bloodbath, right?" Cecilia asks

"Exactly!" Phoenix balls her fists. "That is all we will focus on right now, got it?" she notices how the strings around Cecilia's body begin to get brighter again.

"Okay!" Cecilia shouts.

"And now I'm hungry so let's go eat please," Urid says and the two girls laugh as the group makes its way towards the cafeteria.

Barracuda Bannister, 18

District Four Male

Barracuda throws himself onto the couch in the District One common room where the careers had agreed to meet up for the post-interview score reveals. The force of Barracuda's body against the sofa causes the pillows to fall off and sprawl across the carpet floor.

He catches Raja sighing as she bends down to pick up each individual pillow, placing it on the couch in an orderly fashion. She then disappears into the kitchen as the rest of the careers enter the living room.

Goud smiles at Barracuda and raises his eyebrows at Raja's frustration causing the District Four boy to snicker as he leans back and spreads his legs. The comfort doesn't last long before Nastya pushes one of his legs to the side, taking a seat next to him.

Barracuda doesn't complain. He knows better than to start a fight with Nastya. As a matter of fact, Barracuda has always found the girl rather intimidating to be around but he would never admit that. As the leader of this career pack, Barracuda Bannister needs to be strong, dashing, admirable, assertive… or at least he needs to make it seem that way.

Of course, he doesn't mind being in control but it's starting to bug him a little that he had to be the one to take on that role. Wasn't it Goud who initially volunteered? So, why did Raja need to step up for him and put him in that situation? He hadn't started thinking about it too long ago but it's just one of those things that go through his mind from time to time.

All this pressure of living up to people's expectations makes him want to eat. It makes him want to stuff as much food as he can down his throat. It makes him want to devour anything and everything in his path until his body is on the verge of giving up. He would never throw the food up again. No, he'll let it sink into his body and feel his body getting fatter and fatter.

Perhaps being a disgusting fat big is better than starving himself with anti-depressants. It's not like he's happy with his body now. The imperfections are abundantly clear and he knows that everyone sees them as well. They're just too embarrassed to point them out. Thankfully, he doesn't need their input to see it himself.

Barracuda pinches the inside of his thigh. His mind is going to that dark place again and he's not letting that happen. He cannot.

Just as he's about to excuse himself to go to the bathroom to pop a pill or two, Raja walks back into the common area, a notebook held tightly to her chest and a pen in her other hand that she's twirling effortlessly

"Alright, the announcements begin in one minute," she says. Zo grabs the control panel from the table and hands it to Raja. Barracuda shares the sofa with Nastya on one side and Goud on the other. Dimitris and Zo sit next to each other on two separate sofa chairs while Colin and Raja sit in the same constellation parallel to them

The only person missing is Pamela and at this point, Barracuda is thinking of removing her from the career pack. He knows that it will upset both Goud and Colin but she's been skipping a lot of the career meet-ups lately that he and Raja organized. He also barely knows a thing about her.

"It's starting, it's starting!" the rare moments when Raja actually gets excited over something are truly special to witness.

"…Raja Ali with a score of 7." The careers applaud her and Raja nods with approval. Under normal circumstances, this wouldn't be a score to pride herself for but they were all aware of the fiasco that went down during the combat trials and Raja's refusal to fight against the District Three girl, earning her the lowest possible score. That she managed to boost her score up to a 7 with the other two trials is truly impressive.

"…Goud Haven with a score of 9." Now, these are the types of scores Barracuda likes to see in his pack. He nods affirmatively at the District One boy and gives him a good pat on the back.

"…Nastya Romanov with a score of 10." Barracuda's jaw drops open as he leans forward as if trying to inspect the score on the screen, checking to see if he read the number correctly.

"Full marks in every trial…" he says aloud to himself, eyes still stuck to the screen.

"Damn, girl, look at you," Zo chimes in brightly.

He catches a crack of a smile from the District One girl but it vanishes as quickly as it appeared.

"…Dimitris Apostolos with a score of 8.6" Dimitris jumps up, pushing the sofa chair back.

"Let's fucking go, Dimitris!" Zo puts one arm around him and raises her fist with pride. Dimitris bites his lower lips, eyebrows raised as if surprised by his own capabilities.

"…Voxel Phong with a score of 5.7"

"Not bad for a disabled girl," Goud scoffs.

"Shut up, Goud, that's not all she is," Raja interjects.

"Jeez, what the hell is up with you and that Three girl? Seems like you're more invested in her than in any of us if I'm being honest."

"Listen, you-"

"…Alpha Mail with a score of 2.3" everyone freezes, turning towards the screen slowly. As if on command, they all explode into laughter and for a quick moment the tension in the room is relieved.

"… Zoë Alexander-Knight with a score of 9.3"

"What?!" Dimitris shouts. Zo brings her hands to her mouth in disbelief.

"Wow, okay, guess Raja and I are the supreme rulers of this pack, sorry, Arra," she sticks her tongue out at Barracuda as he shakes his head and laughs.

"…Barracuda Bannister with a score of 9.3"

"Guess not!" Zo shouts out. "Congrats, you're joining us up there now!" she goes over to hug him in celebration as the rest of the careers applaud his achievement. Goud gives him a firm handshake.

"…Leven Granert with a score of 8.3"

"Hmm." Raja mumbles to herself as she scribbles nervously into her notebook. "Guess we'll need to keep an eye on her," she states.

"…Pavlov Halstrom with a score of 7"

"He seems physically fit so I guess the score makes sense," Zo adds. "But, yeah," she turns to Raja. "We should definitely keep an eye on the Five pair."

"…Cecilia Longmire with a score of 5"

"Wasn't that the girl who came at you with a fucking knife?" Goud laughs.

"Unpredictable? Perhaps. A threat? Absolutely not," Nastya says bluntly and it seems like Raja agrees with that statement as she nods while continuing to take her notes.

"…Colin Kurz with a score of 7"

"Not bad for an outlier, Kurz," Goud nudges him with a snicker.

"Yeah…" he begins. "And I could have scored better if I didn't mess up my combat trial." Colin crosses his arms.

"It's still a solid score, don't worry about it," Goud reassures him.

"…Phoenix Adler with a score of 7.3"

"I mean, she did put up quite a fight against you, Dimitris, no?" Barracuda asks, trying to make sense of the surprisingly high score that the District Seven girl received.

"Yeah, I guess..." he begins. "But she always struck me as more of a pacifist."

"What do you mean?" Zo asks

"Hmm, doesn't matter, forget it." He leans back.

"…Morse Leinsow with a score of 4.6"

"Probably a bloodbath," Raja says. "I've seen them perform around the training center. "Unless their ability involves something that threatens to destroy us all, we can easily get rid of them in the bloodbath."

"…Hilda Van Kirsten with a score of 4.3"

"I don't care for her either," Raja spits out, flipping a page in her notebook. "She's nothing but a pawn."

"…Mune Silk with a score of 6."

"His interviews earned him quite a few sponsors, I could tell. He played the disability card at the right moment," Goud says.

"What is it with you and disabled people, like seriously?" Raja snaps at the District One boy.

"Are you kidding me? I don't get to mention disability around you because you're just that sensitive?"

"I'm not sensitive you fucking meathead!" Raja shouts at Goud who clearly struck a nerve with her.

"Alright, alright, sit back down you two. I've had enough of this arguing, it's getting on my nerves now," Barracuda interjects. It might have come off as a little too aggressive and heated but, apparently, it worked since the two of them sink back into their respective chairs.

"…Pamela Chrysanth with a score of 9"

"Excuse?!" Zo squeals. "Okay, sis!"

"And yet she isn't here." Barracuda scoffs and rolls his eyes.

"…Johar Deanne with a score of 3.3"

"Bloodbath," Raja says, crossing something out on a page.

"…Fayette Brownfield with a score of 6.3"

"She doesn't strike me as particularly strong," Goud admits. "She's gangly more than anything else."

"But she did prove to be quite agile and nimble during the combat trials," Raja says. "I mean, you guys saw her pouncing at the Eight kid on all fours… I don't want to underestimate her," she adds.

"…Aditya Fields with a score of 7"

"Watch out for him," Nastya states. "He's got a lot more fight in him than he's showing off."

"I agree with Nastya here. I saw him butcher a dummy with a hatchet and he clearly knew how to handle that weapon."

"… Severin Neferet with a score of 7"

"She's an all-around average girl," Raja says. "She has skill in every field but she's not especially good at anything."

"Her sponsor game is superb though." Goud pours himself a glass of water. "Did you guys hear? Apparently, she held two whole concerts during her stay in the Capitol. I mean, that certainly did boost her popularity with the audience."

"I will have to agree with Goud here as well," Raja admits and Goud raises his eyebrows in surprise. "If she's the Capitol's golden girl then we definitely need to get rid of her sooner rather than later before she has the chance to collect many sponsor gifts."

"…Urid Dondarron with a score of 8.3"

"He's a big, strong guy. We definitely shouldn't underestimate him either."

"…Diana Drifter with a score of 8.3"

"I've been watching her. She's a powerhouse and especially strong in anything that requires physical effort."

"…Dirk Latimer with a score of 8"

"Same thing goes for him as with the two previous tributes. I think the District Eleven and District Twelve tributes pose a big threat this year and we need to try to eliminate them as early as we can before they start getting stronger and the threat less manageable," Raja says before switching the television screen off.

"That's it! Thank you guys for meeting up and make sure to revise the tribute portfolios I printed out for each of you before the Games begin tomorrow." Raja distributes her folders with a hint of pride in her expression.

Seeing Raja with such confidence makes him feel like he's going to survive this. He shouldn't be having doubts - he's a career after all - and yet he can't help but fear the prospect of death.

However, Barracuda needs to remind himself that he's got a strong pack by his side and together they were going to dominate in the arena.

Sure, there's some bickering between them here and there but that was only natural. Barracuda knew that when it was time to get serious, his allies would be able to put their differences aside and fight alongside one another.

It's time for the careers to takeover these Games.

Pamela 'Pam' Chrysanth, 16

District Nine Female

The interviews remain a blur; something to be forgotten, something utterly frivolous to Pamela Chrysanth. Pamela couldn't recall any specific moment during her talk on the stage. It felt like someone had opened her up from the inside and set her on auto-pilot. Sure, she could still remember some of her vague responses that didn't aid Cynthio on his quest to uncover whatever dark and twisted secret she might be hiding. She could basically see the disappointment culminating through his increasingly fatigued and bored facial expressions. Did she say something she shouldn't have? Did she give away any of the Careers' plans for the Games? Did she trip on her way out as the audience applauded the lackluster words that oozed from her limp and faded lips? Pamela couldn't tell.

On the rooftop area of the training facility, Pamela didn't have to think about any of it. Quite frankly, her interview hadn't really been on her mind. How could it? How could she let something so unimportant irritate her when she robbed a boy of his life? The image wouldn't leave her be. It was engraved in her mind. No, engraved would be the wrong word choice here; the mental image of the boy's suffocating, pale face stayed scratched into her mind the way a child would scribble on a piece of paper until the tip of the pen broke and a chaotic mess was left on the once pure and tranquil sheet of paper.

Pamela couldn't even look at Colin anymore. Her partner in crime is nothing but an outsider to her, someone who doesn't understand what it feels like to have killed. Pamela had killed someone who was not after her life. He had no intention of hurting her. She didn't even know his name. She could not name the person she engulfed with her breath; the person who fell into the void that was the essence in her blood.

Pamela leans against the railing of the roof. It is a nice little plateau, covered with large patches of grass and a couple of trees that didn't threaten coverage of the sunlight had it not been night time. There's a café behind her, the structure of which is composed of big glass vitrines, allowing a nice look outside into the greenery. It felt strange, almost forced that the Capitol would try and make nature bloom in an area where it shouldn't. Pamela tries to think of that. She tries to focus her attention on the irrational idea behind the plants on the rooftop. For a moment it seemed to be working. She seemed to have forgotten that just yesterday she had killed a boy. She had killed a boy.

She was a murderer.

"Fuck! I'm not a murderer!" Pamela shouts, slamming her foot against the railing. She was at least hoping for the metallic barrier to respond to her fit of rage. She was hoping for a sign that her actions have consequences, that she couldn't get away with everything and anything but alas the railing remained the same as before. It is only her foot that is hurting.

"No one said you were." She hears a gentle and deep voice from behind her.

"Who-" she turns, hands raised to her chest in a defensive stance.

"It's just me." The boy from Ten, Aditya, puts his right hand up, signaling that he came in peace.

Pamela drops her hands to her sides and rests her lower back against the silver railing, her back facing the plentiful buildings radiating various colorful lights, of which made a very Capitol-esque scenery.

"Now, what's all that talk about you being a murderer?" he asks, eyes narrowing a little.

Pamela scoffs.

"Oh, pardon. I didn't mean to come off as intrusive." The boy rests his arms on the railing, putting his hands together and staring at the bottomless pit beneath him, "You told me you were scared of dying…"

Pamela throws her head back before finally answering. "I did, yeah," she tells him without looking in his direction.

"And now you're scared of killing?"

"I'm scared of a lot of things apparently." She laughs at her personal reflection rather pitifully.

"I personally think killing is easier than dying." Aditya says bluntly. "we have a certain survival instinct encoded into our system." Pamela catches a hint of passion in his voice.

"I take it you've tried both?" Pamela asks rhetorically, eliciting a laugh from Aditya.

"No, I… thankfully haven't tried the latter." It takes some time for the boy's statement to sink in before Pamela's eyes widen.

"So, you've-"

"Yes." He cuts her off. An interesting turn of events. Aditya had certainly managed to catch Pamela's attention. She still didn't quite understand why he was getting all personal with her but she assumes that it's for the same reason she expressed vulnerability towards him the other day. It was this sense of impending doom – the thought that death was inescapable – which evoked such recklessness.

"Why?"

"Because I'm selfish, Pamela." He pushes himself away from the railing. "I killed because I was threatened… because I felt threatened."

"Would you do it again?" she asks as she tries to tear away at his layers.

"Absolutely." Aditya squeezes a leaf from one of the short trees between his thumb and his index finger. "I would kill again and again if it meant that I could secure my own wellbeing." He rips the leaf free. "Do you think that makes me a monster?"

"I don't know enough about your circumstances to determine that."

Aditya scoffs. "I guess killing is killing. Doesn't matter the reason behind it since the outcome is the same regardless."

"I would beg to differ. The motive behind it decides if the action is justifiable." Pamela leaves the railing behind, joining the District Ten boy at the tree he's been plucking.

"So what makes you a murderer?" he asks, brushing her statement away.

Pamela hesitates for a moment, questioning whether or not she wants to open up about the occurrence that has so drastically taken over her mind all of a sudden.

Aditya notices this hesitation. "You remember what we said, right? That we would kill each other in the arena if we ever crossed paths." He winks at her and Pamela understands what he is trying to tell her.

"I killed an Avox boy during my Essence Trial…" she pauses, taking a deep breath. "I lost control of my ability and the Gamemakers… they just watched as I screamed for help. Yet no one came." She crumples one of the leaves in her hand and stares down at it.

Aditya nods. "I've killed several women because they told me they were pregnant with my child." Pamela drops the destroyed leaf fragments to the ground as she stares silently at the boy facing her. "They threatened to expose my nymphomaniacal tendencies so I-"

"Yeah. I got it." Pamela interrupts him, making a stopping motion with her hand.

"And, no, I don't feel bad about it if that's what you were going to ask me." As a matter of fact, she was going to ask him exactly that. "So, think about it, between the two of us, who really is the monster?"

Aditya steps closer towards Pamela. Instinctively, she wanted to retreat but another small and twisted part of her wanted to succumb to the darkness of this boy. "The girl who killed without wanting to, who mourned the death of her victim…" He takes another step, almost closing the space between their two bodies. He bends slightly so his face reaches Pamela's level. His dark eyes hover in front of her. "…or the boy who killed because he could, and moved on with his life?"

Before Pamela had the chance to respond or do anything other than stand still, trapped in her temporary state of confusion, he backs away further and further until the remaining trail of his shadow slithers down the steps.

Pamela stands there on the rooftop terrace all by her lonesome, feeling a certain kind of way. An emptiness that threatens to take over.

It is not a sad kind of empty. It is an emptiness that craves to be filled.

Mune Silk, 16

District Eight Male

The interviews had been quite fun for Mune. He had gotten the chance to talk about his disability in front of a whole audience who all respected and admired him. They had applauded him for every sentence he uttered, and it gave him a sense of accomplishment. He had never considered himself especially brave or persevering before, and yet, he did feel like a hero. It was a short-lived sensation but it was enough for him to feel good about himself.

Mune, wanting to celebrate this achievement of getting the interviews over with, enters his tribute ID into the vending machine, and waits for the container to spit out his newfound favorite Capitol drink: 'Emerald Blast'. For a quick moment he ponders whether or not it might be a good idea to grab a drink for Hilda as well. On the one hand, it would be an excuse for the two of them to sit together alone and bond. On the other hand, however, it could come off as very pushy. Remembering the many times that Hilda had put her arm around Mune, or had run her hand through his hair, he ultimately decides that her attention is worth seeking and he most certainly does not want to miss this window of opportunity.

What drink would she like…?

Hilda was a sweet girl; that was the first word that Mune would use to describe her. Sweet, loving, caring, gentle, tender, comforting, knowledgeable, fun, crazy, wild, unpredictable, exciting… so many words could describe the girl he thought about every day. Mune's eyes scan the menu list for a soda drink that could potentially fit those exact characteristics. Something sweet, unpredictable, and wild…

"Sapphire Crush," he whispers, and nods to himself. He puts his code in again and waits for the can to hit the bottom of the vending machine.

Behind him, Mune's ears catch the sound of a giggle he would recognize miles away. The same giggle that filled his brain with so much dopamine, that it threatened to burst. He turns to see Hilda, and feels the butterflies in the lumen of his stomach flapping their wings and caressing his nerves. A rush of excitement takes over as he holds the cans in either hand and prepares to approach Hilda.

"Hil-"he starts, but the words fade just as quickly as the tingling in his stomach that had been present just moments before. He lowers the cans in disappointment at the sight of Voxel rolling her wheelchair alongside Hilda. Hilda whispers something into the girl's ear and the two of them start giggling in unison. The scene reminded Mune of how certain groups of girls in his school would come together around the lockers, sharing new gossip and trying to subdue their laughter when he would pass them. It was a scene he didn't like returning to. It made him feel like an outsider back then and he didn't want to feel that way now. Not when he was so close to finally finding someone who didn't look at him as a pitiful creature but as a friend; someone to talk to, someone to confide in… someone to potentially love.

Before he knows it, Hilda and Voxel pass the hallway that's connected to the common room without even noticing him. They disappear towards the private chambers.

Mune trails after them but stops in his tracks when he spots the two girls hugging each other before parting. Voxel wheels herself into the elevator as Hilda waits to take the next one. Now is the perfect chance to approach his district partner. He will confront her about Voxel, tell her how he feels, how he wants her and only her and how-

No. That wasn't right. That would seem desperate, even if that's exactly what he was. If he confronted her, he wouldn't be able to control his emotions and it would result in him becoming angry and clingy. Mune needed to wait but the time was ticking. The time was ticking faster than it should.

…

…

Mune covers himself with his bedsheets. He picked the lightest one since he tended to sweat a lot during the night. Catching a cold right before the Games begin would be less than optimal. He fluffs his pillow up and drops the back of his head against the cushioning, feeling his body slowly sinking into the soft embrace of his bed. His consciousness begins to sink away.

Hilda.

Mune's eyes tear themselves open as if on command to the mere thought of the District Eight girl. The Gamemakers had told the tributes on the first day of training that they mustn't use their abilities on their peers, as long as they were still in the Capitol. And yet Mune found himself in a situation where he knows that he could not go on until he's done something. Something cruel and evil. Something that would free him.

His eyes roll to the back of his head as he slips away into consciousness. Yes, Mune was very conscious of his state. Well, it wasn't really a state, either, since Mune had managed to escape all sense of time and location. He existed everywhere and anywhere and yet he wasn't omniscient either. The world around him was in fragments, the pieces floating around his consciousness like tiny glass shards waiting to be put together.

It didn't take long before the world was constructed around him again.

However, it's not his world he finds himself in.

As soon as Mune slips into this new location, his feet make contact with the soft grass. He takes a deep breath, smelling the aroma of fresh citrus fruits. The air is cool and slightly damp. Mune turns to his side, realizing that he is on a cliff, overlooking the most beautiful scenery he had ever laid his eyes on. Mountainous regions with snowy peaks surround the cliff, trapping the greenery within a safety net. This region Mune has entered feels private, it feels guarded. It feels like he shouldn't be here. Trees with colorful crowns decorate the gentle hills below. It all feels so small beneath him, like he could crush the ground beneath him in an instant. In front of him lays an ocean, the waves crashing ever so carelessly against the sand as white as snow.

At the edge of the cliff stands a girl. She dances around a single tree, the only tree on the cliff. The tree bears its golden, succulent fruit proudly and the girl relishes in the feeling of this undisturbed serenity. Mune could still go back; he didn't need to intrude. He could still save himself and the girl.

He chooses not to.

He moves towards the girl who still dances like a forest nymph, spreading her legs as far as she can as she leaps into the air. When she notices him, her smile fades slightly but she still waves at him and welcomes him. It doesn't look like she recognizes him.

The girl extends her hand and the boy lays his claws into her embrace. For some reason Mune cannot hear a single thing. He can't hear her words, he can't hear the ocean, he can't hear the breeze. Perhaps the nature surrounding this girl is aware of the threat and tries its best to protect her from the lurking danger.

It seemed like she was introducing herself. It was so typical of her to be so welcoming and so sweet. She plucks a golden fruit and offers it to him but he rejects the gift. There was so much time for pleasantries.

He takes the girl's hand, pointing towards the ocean. He smiles at her gently, telling her that he wants to look at the water. She nods and they run towards the edge of the cliff, skipping together, hand in hand.

The closer the two of them get to the edge, the faster the sun begins to set, making its way beneath the ocean. Perhaps another warning sign and yet the girl doesn't notice. Her obliviousness is disgusting.

They stop just before the edge as the golden fruit falls out of the girl's hand, rolling away from her feet. She hurries after it, bending down to pick it up. Mune wastes no time as he shoots his foot against the girl's side, kicking her off the edge.

The boy watches the girl fall.

Mune watches Voxel fall.

He turns away before her body crashes violently against the rocks below.

Voxel Phong was now dead.

Hi guys! Shiro is letting me do his author's note for him today. For those of you who don't know me, I'm Lindsay/ladyqueerfoot, and I'm one of Shiro's many lovers! Can we give him a round of applause for updating so quickly? Great. Anyways, I hope you enjoyed this chapter of post-interview fun. Interviews are so 2019 anyways. Amiright? Anyways, I hope you all have an amazing day and I hope Shiro updates soon!

Toodles,

Lindsay