Glowla Lush, District 1, 18

"Have you two met before?" our Mentor asked.

On the train, Virgil has already made himself comfortable, feet kicked up on the table in front of him. He'd also unbuttoned his shirt most of the way, prompting me to roll my eyes. I hoped the other Careers were better than this piece of work. I couldn't help but think that my odds of winning, fighting alongside him, were fairly low.

"Nah," said Virgil. He smirked and extended his hand toward me. "Name's Virgil. And you?"

"Glowla," I replied, eyeing his hand. "And I know who you are. I've seen you around the Academy."

He lowered his hand, brows furrowing. "Hmm. Don't remember seeing you."

I scoffed, leaning back in my seat. "Probably because you were rarely there."

Virgil chuckled. "Feisty! We'll get along well."

I wrinkled my nose, but before I could reply, our Mentor interjected. "And I am Augustus Braun," he said. "You both can call me Braun; most everyone does."

I nod. "Nice to meet you."

"Hey," said Virgil.

He nodded back to me, then glanced at Virgil apprehensively. "Hello," he replied.

Virgil smirked again.

"Now," said Braun, "for some business matters. Career alliance, I'm guessing?"

"Duh," said Virgil. "We take everyone out. Then when everyone else is gone, me and Glowy here can take down the other Careers, no problem."

Braun glanced at me, eyebrows raised.

"It's Glowla," I said.

"Right, my bad," said Virgil. "Glow-laaa. Glowla, Glowla, Glowla. Got it."

I sighed.

"Yes," I said. "I plan on allying with the other Careers."

"Very good," said Braun. "I've heard from Godric that the tributes from Two are particularly good this year."

"Wait," I said, leaning forward. "You already know who they are?"

Braun looked me up and down. "Not specifically," he said. "But Godric and I keep in touch."

I thought back. Where had I heard that name before? Against my better intentions, iit escaped me. I supposed he was an old Victor turned Mentor, like Braun. Then, I realized- did it really matter?

"That's helpful," I noted.

Braun raised an eyebrow. "Yes. Yes, it is."

"What about from Four?" I asked.

Braun shrugged. "Don't know. Finnick and Annie, they're not as invested as some. Nice people, but less involved, let's say."

"Can we watch the Reapings?" I asked.

Virgil, bored by the rest of the conversation, perked up at this. "Yeah. I want to see the competish," he said.

Braun nodded. "They'll be on later," he said. "They'll release a highlight reel and cut the extra footage once everyone's been Reaped."

"Just the good stuff," said Virgil.

"Exactly," Braun replied. "Until then, the afternoon is yours."

"Nice," said Virgil, getting to his feet. "I want to check out my room. See you."

He pulled open the compartment door behind Braun and left, quickly vanishing from sight.

Braun leaned forward, his gaze suddenly intense. "What do you think of him?"

"Virgil?" I asked. He nodded. I glanced at the door he'd just left through, thinking for a minute. I hesitated.

"Honestly?" I asked.

He nodded. "I only want the truth," he said.

I thought some more. "I don't like him," I said.

Braun smirked, the first time I'd seen him do so. "Don't blame you for that," he said.

"He doesn't take anything seriously, and I don't trust him."

Braun nodded. "Makes sense. I wouldn't trust him either."

"You wouldn't?"

Braun glanced over his shoulder. "As your Mentor, I don't think it would be in your best interests, no."

"Onyx said the same," I replied.

"Then that settles it," he said. "I'm the Mentor for both of you, and frankly, I don't want you doing anything stupid. Especially when you're paired with Amatore."

"But he thinks we're getting along," I said.

"Let him think that," Braun replied. "Can't hurt. Now, you deserve some time to relax. You won't get much more of it."

He extended his hand. "It's been nice to meet you, Glowla."

This time, I shook the extended hand. "Nice to meet you as well."

Damion Cloud, District 3, 14

I sat at the table with my arms crossed. Several seats over, the girl sat with her arms crossed as well. We hadn't spoken yet, and I'd already forgotten her name. She was tall for a girl, and covered in zits. She squinted at us from behind purple glasses. Across the table was our Mentor, who had introduced himself as Kellin Williams.

"But you can call me Kellin," he'd said. "What are your names?"

"Didn't you hear them already?" the girl asked.

"What?"

"The weirdo said them already," she said, pointing at the Escort, who sat next to Kellin. "On the stage. He's the one who picked us."

"My name is Saint," he said, bristling. "Not 'weirdo.'"

"Yeah, right," said the girl. "Don't think I don't blame you for this, by the way. Me being here is all your fault."

"That's ridiculous," said Saint, already irritated.

"Still not giving you my name," the girl said.

"I thought formal introductions would be nice," said Kellin.

"'Nice?'" said the girl. "Nothing about this is 'nice,' Mr. Kellin."

"Just Kellin is fine," said Kellin.

The girl ignored him. "So, Mr. Kellin, if you kindly wouldn't mind skipping ahead to the important stuff," she said, "that would be just great."

Kellin sighed and turned to me. "What's your name?"

"Damion," I said quietly.

"Well, I'm sorry that we had to meet under these circumstances," said Kellin, clearly grateful to have a non-combative response.

"Whatever," I replied.

Kellin sighed again. "What was the 'important stuff' you wanted to discuss, Halley?" he asked, turning back to the girl.

She straightened up. "A-ha! You did know my name!"

"Would you drop that already?" Saint the Escort muttered.

Halley scowled at him before returning to Kellin's question. "You know," she said. "How to not die in the arena? Seems important to me."

"It is important," Kellin agreed. "I thought maybe you'd want to get settled in before we discussed all that."

"Might as well," I said. "Don't want to waste time."

Kellin sighed again. He seemed to do that a lot. The tendency was already irritating. But the guy was useful, and probably had some good advice. Telling him how I really felt didn't seem like the best option right now.

"Well, you'll learn a lot in training about survival skills," he begins. "When we get to the Capitol, we can talk more about which stations you should train at to optimize your chances. And when we watch the Reapings, we can learn more about the competition. Maybe pick out some possible allies, if you're interested in that."

"I don't know," I said. "I like to be by myself. Besides, I thought you couldn't trust other tributes in the Games."

"In the long term, no," Kellin replied. "That's a good point. But in the short term, allies can be helpful sometimes, for defense and pooling your resources."

"But that makes you a bigger target," said Halley.

"I suppose neither of you wants allies, then?" Kellin asked.

"No," I said.

Halley considered. "Maybe."

"Really?" I asked her, surprised.

She glared at me. "I'm not an idiot, you know. I'm thirteen, and it's not like I Volunteered for this shit. Might be nice to have some backup."

"Maybe you're smarter than I thought," I said, leaning back in my chair. I might have wanted to keep Kellin on my good side, but pissing Halley off had no consequences. Might as well be myself. She was no rainbow of sunshine either.

Halley bristled, turning in her seat to face me. "I will have you know, you absolute dipshit, that I am in the eleventh grade. Not eighth. Eleventh. E-le-venth. I am a fucking genius, and far smarter right now, in this moment, than you'll ever be. Capiche?"

"You wish," I replied.

Halley stood up, her cheeks red. She didn't say anything, just stared at me.

"Now, let's all calm down," Kellin said cautiously.

Halley glanced at him. Then, without warning, she leapt at me, fingernails bared. She landed, knocking me out of my chair.

"Get her off me!" I shouted, trying to keep her hands away from my face. "Ow!"

Suddenly, she was pulled backwards, lifted off of me by an Avox. She tried to swipe at him a few times, but he was stronger than she was, and she quickly gave up.

"You can't fight until you get to the arena," Kellin said firmly. "It's against the rules. Understood?"

I nodded. Halley didn't respond.

Ainsley Blare, District 5, 18

After a tour of the train and brief introductions, I went to my room to take a nap. The place was huge- bigger than my entire apartment in Five- but I was too exhausted to explore, and quickly fell asleep.

Eventually, I awoke to a knock on the door.

"Come in," I called, sitting up. I glanced at the alarm clock on the nightstand- I'd been asleep a few hours. Looking around the lavish room, it hit me again. I was a tribute. I was in the Games. This time next week, I'd very likely be dead.

Maybe I should have just stayed asleep.

The door creaked open, and Albert stood in the doorway. He'd changed out of his Reapings suit and now wore sweatpants and a shirt. "The Reapings recap is on," he said. "I was wondering if you wanted to watch it with me."

I nodded. "Will Samuel be there as well?"

"Samuel won't leave his room," Albert replied. "Something about demons."

I relaxed, releasing a tension in my shoulders that I hadn't realized I was holding. Then I felt bad. He was probably just as scared as I was. He was just coping differently. Although, maybe he'd been a bit extreme…

"Okay," I finally said. I followed him down the hall and into another car, which I'd seen earlier on the tour. Our Escort, Palmyra, had introduced it as an entertainment room. It had an enormous television on one wall, and was filled with armchairs and a couch. Palmyra sat in one of the armchairs, and Albert took another. I sat on the couch. Palmyra flipped the channel, and soon enough, the Reapings recap had begun.

From One, Two, and Four were all Volunteers. I felt my heart sink at the sights of them, especially Two. They were both so confident and strong. I hoped I never ran into them. Three was a tall girl whose acne betrayed her youth- without it, I'd have thought she was maybe seventeen, but she was clearly much younger- and a moody-looking boy.

Then it was our turn. It was strange to watch myself on the screen. Thankfully, I'd been okay- clearly shocked, but I didn't look like a weakling. Samuel caught the commentator's notice, and they spent a while talking about him as the footage played.

"You did well," said Palmyra.

"Thanks," I said, shooting her a grateful look. She smiled back, the diamonds in her teeth glinting in the light. Earlier on the train, she'd noticed my curiosity and let me look at them. She was very proud of them.

"I don't know what to do about him," Albert mused.

"Saumel?" Palmyra asked.

"Yes," said Albert. "He doesn't trust me. Or anyone, for that matter."

"Give him time," said Palmyra. "He's clearly troubled. Perhaps he just needs some space."

"Perhaps," said Albert.

Then was Six, which chose a lanky, dark-skinned boy with shaky hands and a teary-eyed girl. Albert chuckled when she corrected the Escort on her name.

"'It's pronounced 'sah-lo-may,''" said the girl on the screen.

"Spunky!" said Palmyra.

District Seven didn't stand out to me. The boy from Eight had a head of bright red hair, and the girl's name made the audience gasp, including Albert and Palmyra.

"She's an old Victor's daughter," Palmyra explained, spotting my puzzled expression.

"Batiste would be rolling in her grave if she could see this," Albert muttered. "Poor Senna."

Nine didn't stand out to me either, but Ten…

"Did he just Volunteer?" Palmyra said, her jaw dropping.

"That's what he said," said Albert. "He looks young, too. What a shame."

"He doesn't stand a chance," said Palmyra, shaking her head. "At least the girl is on the older side."

District Eleven went similarly. This time, when the girl Volunteered, my jaw dropped alongside Palmyra's. Two outer district Volunteers in the same year? One was rare, but two was practically unheard of.

"Are you serious?" she said, leaping out of her armchair. "No she didn't!"

"Yes she did," said Albert, stroking his chin. "An interesting year, indeed."

Compared to the excitement of Ten and Eleven, Twelve was relatively boring. The boy looked strong enough, and I felt so bad for the girl. She was so short, and thin, too.

When the screen flickered off, Palmyra and Albert turned to look at me.

"That's the competition!" said Palmyra.

"An interesting group," said Albert. "Other than the Careers, you're very much one of the oldest of the group, which is good news. I'm looking forward to learning more about them."

I nodded, overwhelmed by all this information. Twenty-two faces, along with everyone I'd met today, swam through my mind. Who would be a friend? Who would try to kill me?

Even worse, who might I try to kill?

"Hungry?" asked Palmyra, standing once again.

I nodded again and followed her to the dining car.

Travis O'Quinn, District 7, 17

After our Escort, Aphrodite, gave us a tour of the train, we ended up in the dining car. Acadia was already there, stirring her drink with a spoon absentmindedly.

"Please, sit," chirped Aphrodite, who took a seat next to Acadia. "We'd love to get to know you both!"

Chaney took the seat in front of us. I sat in the one two seats over.

"Acadia," Aphrodite said, "this is Chaney, and next to her is Travis."

Acadia looked up from her drink for the first time since we'd entered. "Hi," she said to Chaney.

"Hi," Chaney said softly.

She looked at me. "Hi, Travis," she said.

I nodded. "Acadia."

Aphrodite's thin pink brows furrowed. "You don't know each other, do you?"

"Travis and I have met," Acadia said. "We're in the same graduating class in school."

"Oh!" said Aphrodite. "How wonderful!"

Acadia's eyes shifted back to her drink. Coffee, from the looks of it. I thought back, trying to remember the last time we'd had a conversation, or even spoken. The most recent thing I could think of was a biology project when we were fourteen, maybe fifteen. She smiled more back then. She talked a lot more, too. We'd gotten along well enough, parting ways when the school bell rang. But here we were now, on a train hurtling towards the Capitol, and she was my Mentor.

Strange world.

Without looking up again, Acadia began to speak. I had to lean forward in my seat to catch her words.

"I know this is scary," she said. "Believe me, I know. The last time I was on this train, the only person I was worried about was myself. I remember what it feels like. I wish I didn't. But I know what it takes to get out of the arena alive, and I will do my best to make sure you get out as well. I've never done this before, but neither have you- so as far as I see it, we're in this together. How does that sound?"

She glanced up again, searching our faces.

"Okay," said Chaney softly.

I watched her, studying her face. I generally considered myself to be pretty good at catching people's BS. From what I could tell, though, Acadia was entirely genuine. She didn't blink, watching me watch her.

Finally, I nodded. "Okay."

Acadia relaxed, clearly relieved. "Okay," she said. She took a sip of her drink.

"By the way," she said, "if you want anything, you can just ask an Avox, and they'll bring it to you."

"Oh, yes," said Aphrodite. "They make the most delicious hot cocoa on these trains. I look forward to it all year."

I frowned. "You drink hot cocoa at this time of year?"

Aphrodite nodded, smiling. "It's that good!" she exclaimed.

I gritted my teeth. This Escort was already getting on my nerves. Her voice was just so damn grating.

"I'm fine," said Chaney. "Thanks though."

"Oh, dear," said Aphrodite, getting to her feet, "you aren't looking so well. Maybe I should take you to your room?"

"That's fine," said Chaney, standing as well. "I'll see you later," she said to me and Acadia. She and Aphrodite left- thank God- and then it was just the two of us. It was silent for a long moment.

"This is strange, huh?" said Acadia, finally breaking the silence.

"Yes," I said. "Haven't seen you in a while."

"Yes," she agreed. "I, uh… I've been doing my classes at home since I got back. It's just easier that way."

I nod. "I would too," I replied.

She half-smiled at me, looking back at her drink. "I hope I can help you," she said. "I really want to get you out."

"I hope so too," I said. "Surviving is my goal in this."

"It'll be difficult," she said, stirring her coffee. "I still think about my time in the arena every day. I remember every detail so vividly…"

"That sucks," I said, attempting to be sympathetic. It wasn't my strong suit. Although, I supposed I'd understand what she meant fairly soon.

She nodded. "It does," she said. "But I think you could handle it."

I thought back through last year. "Did you have to kill a lot of people?"

She looked up, caught off guard. "I… I had to do what I had to do."

"You had to do what you had to do," I echoed. I could do that.

"I meant what I said earlier, Travis," said Acadia, her voice firm. "I will try my hardest."

"I know," I said. "So will I."

Reese Hastings, District 9, 16

On the train, the other tribute and I waited in the dining car for our Mentor and Escort to show up. The train hadn't left the station yet, likely still waiting for everyone to board. I wondered what they were doing.

"Um, since they're not here yet… I'm Journie," the boy said, sticking out his hand for a shake. He smiled shakily.

"Reese," I replied, shaking his hand. "Nice to meet you."

"You as well," he said politely, letting his hand drop. I did the same. I studied him, trying to gauge him. Journie was tall, with brown hair that ended at his shoulders. He seemed fit enough, and was covered with nicks and bruises. His bloodied lip was clearly fresh, and his nose was crooked in several parts. But his smile was friendly enough, and he was from home.

He caught me looking at his nose. "Broke it a few times," he said sheepishly.

"Sorry," I said, averting my eyes. "I didn't mean to stare."

"Don't worry about it," he said.

"No, I'm really sorry," I said.

"Hey," he said. "It's okay."

I looked back at him. He was watching me, lips pressed together. "It's really okay. I broke it in some fights, you know?"

"Fights?"

"Yeah, fights," he said. "Sometimes I needed a little extra money, and fighting paid better than the fields."

"I've only ever worked in the fields," I said, tearing my eyes away from his nose again. "But I work with some of my siblings, so I don't mind it."

"The fields are okay," Journie replied. "I just wish they'd stop cutting wages."

"I do too," I said. "It's hard enough work already- might as well pay me for it, you know?"

"Exactly!" said Journie. "I had to join another fight last night to make ends meet. That's where I busted my lip. But what else was I supposed to do? Come home empty-handed? I'd rather do field work, and my mom would rather I work in the fields too, but fights just straight-up pay better."

"I don't know if I could do that," I said.

"What, fight?"

"Yeah," I said. "I don't think I have it in me. But that's bound to come in handy for you real soon."

"I hope so," said Journie, examining his knuckles. I noticed a few more shallow cuts on them. "I can consider it my training, right?"

"Right," I said. "You're a regular Career."

"How 'bout that?" Journie said, smiling again. "Didn't think of it that way."

The door at the front of the train car opened, and a tall, dark-haired man stepped through, followed by the Escort in his tunic.

"I am Marius Nero, and I am your Mentor this year," said the dark-haired man. "I know that I'm not from Nine. I'm from Two. But I'm here to help, and hopefully, next year one of you can take my place."

"Works for me," said Journie, sticking out his hand again. "I'm Journie."

"Hello, Journie," Marius Nero said, accepting the shake. He turned to me. "And you?"

"I'm Reese," I said. "And I use they/them pronouns, by the way."

"Excellent, and noted," Marius Nero said. "Let's have a seat, shall we? There's much to discuss."

Alula Callahan, District 11, 15

After failing to make conversation with us, our Mentor decided that we should watch the Reapings from the other districts.

"Couldn't hurt to see who'll be joining you, right?" he asked, attempting to be cheery.

The other tribute nodded. They hadn't said a word since we'd boarded the train, just twisted their hands into funny shapes. Probably sign language, but I didn't know enough about it to be sure. Our Mentor had confirmed that their name was Parker, and they were nonbinary, but that was all I knew about them. They seemed to get along well with the Avoxes, though, and they spent a while communicating with their hands. It was the only time I saw them smile.

It's for the better, whispered Cataleya.

I supposed she was right. When it came down to it, Parker probably wouldn't be a threat.

Exactly.

We settled into the couches and chairs of the room, Parker sitting close to our Mentor and the Escort, whose name I also hadn't caught. But then again, I didn't really care. I sat on the other side of the room. Cataleya was the only company I needed. The Escort flipped on the television, and the Reapings began to play.

First up was District One, which produced two Volunteers.

"What do you think?" I asked Cataleya.

"They're probably very dangerous, considering they're trained," said the Mentor.

I ignored him and listened to Cataleya instead.

No match for me, she whispered. The boy is a fool.

"What about me?" I asked.

"What about you?" asked the Mentor.

"Sorry," I said. "Not talking to you."

"What?" he asked, casting a dubious glance toward me. The Escort was eyeing me as well. I continued to ignore them. They'd never understand me.

For you, they're to be avoided, said Cataleya. All of the trained tributes are.

She said the same for Two and Four, both full of Volunteers. Just like me.

These two are no threat, she said of the duo from Three.

When we got to Five, the Escort spoke again. "Now that kid, he's interesting," she said, leaning forward in her seat. She watched the boy thrash about on the screen, screaming bloody murder as he did so. "What was his name? Samuel?"

"I think so," the Mentor replied. Parker nodded.

He is too unruly, whispered Cataleya. No match for me. She had nothing to say about the other tribute from Five.

Six was similar to Three. Cataleya considered them to be harmless.

"I like the girl," said the Escort. "I'm looking forward to her interview."

When we got to Seven, Cataleya spoke again.

Stay away from them, she said.

The boy, sure. He was tall and clearly athletic, and his gaze burned with intensity. But the girl seemed too small, too timid to be of any major threat.

She's hiding something.

But what?

Unknown for now, Cataleya replied. But heed my advice. She is potentially dangerous.

District Eight was fairly mundane, but the Mentor and Escort seemed to be surprised.

"What bad luck," said the Mentor, shaking his head. "Unbelievable."

"So sad," replied the Escort. "But so entertaining."

The Mentor eyed her. She didn't notice, her eyes glued to the blonde-haired girl on the screen. Whatever. If Cataleya had nothing to say about her, then she was nothing to me either.

District Nine was boring.

Kind-hearted, said Cataleya. Their downfall, no doubt.

Ten brought more gasps from the Mentor and Escort.

"Another Volunteer!" squealed the Escort. "The drama! The action! These Games are going to be fabulous!"

The Mentor sighed, shaking his head. He evidently didn't agree. "Poor kid."

A fool, whispered Cataleya. You could take him, easily.

But what about the girl?

If you're careful, likely her as well, she said. She's older than you, but you are braver.

I held the rare compliment close to my heart. I was brave. Cataleya had said so, so it was true.

Then it was time to watch ourselves. I went up first, my head held high and my stride steady.

Good, said Cataleya.

I beamed with pride. I had done well.

I was on my way to perfection.

Parker's Reaping was much less eventful than mine, and soon enough, District Twelve popped up on the screen.

The boy is strong. The girl is weak.

After the previous two districts, Twelve was much less noteworthy. Just a buff, older boy, and a short, skinny girl. Cataleya's judgement was clearly correct.

The Capitol seal flickered on screen, and then the footage switched to the commentators, who began discussing what they'd seen. Boring.

"I'm tired," I said, standing. "I'm going to my room."

"That's fine," said the Mentor. "We'll see you at dinner?"

I shrugged and left.

You're on your way to perfection, Cataleya told me as I walked down the hall. Don't mess it up.

I was already in too deep to turn back. There was no way I was letting Cataleya down now.

*And that's the first half of the train rides! I've been really looking forward to writing these interactions, which proved to be good motivation in getting this chapter done :) If you didn't see your tribute here, don't worry- I'll be doing my best to balance the POVs, and you'll hear from them soon. Be sure to let me know how you liked this chapter!

See you next time with Districts 2, 4, 6, 8, 10, and 12!

-r-b*