Roman Garnier, age 18

District Two Male

The elation was not going to dissipate any time soon.

Roman knew he would be a volunteer someday. Why wouldn't he be? He was the best that District Two had to offer, despite coming from one of Two's poorest families. The Garniers had to work for everything they had, working overtime in the granite mines to pay for Roman's Academy tuition. All of that hard work would soon pay off when he came back a victor.

Because he was coming back. Mark his words, Roman was going to win these Games.

He just had to get through this reaping and he would be on his way.

Standing in the front row, Roman had quite the view of the group on stage. The mayor, the victors, the district escort, Vienna, bedecked in shades of maroon. The mayor gave his customary speech, which Roman tuned out. He got the gist of it: Dark Days, rebellion, punishment, Hunger Games. An overwhelmingly negative speech about the sole thing that brought glory to District Two.

And wasn't glory what was most important in Panem? It was to Roman.

Eventually, Vienna strutted her way over to the microphone, her massive high heels clicking against the stage, the only sound in the area. The pens of kids had fallen silent. Were they scared? Roman scoffed at the idea. This was District Two. No one had to worry about the reaping here.

"Happy Hunger Games, District Two!" Vienna exclaimed. "And may the odds be ever in your favor!" Roman grinned. Oh, they would be. "But let's not waste anymore time. It's time to choose your tributes for the 95th Hunger Games!"

Vienna strutted over to the girl's reaping ball, made a show of selecting the slip, and walked back over to the microphone. Roman glanced over his shoulder towards the seventeen year old girls section, trying to pick out Pallas, who he was going into the arena with. Was she as excited to volunteer as he was? Roman hoped so, but he knew her dreams of returning as a victor were futile.

He would win.

"Omega Hyland!" Vienna called out. There was a brief pause, where the confusion quickly became palpable. Rarely was there a wait before the volunteer stepped forward.

Eventually, a calm voice broke the silence: "I volunteer."

Roman watched as Pallas, a rather tall girl with tanned skin and short, dark brown hair, walked stiffly towards the stage, her face emotionless. She mounted the steps and quietly said her name into the microphone. Roman grinned.

His turn.

Pallas King, age 17

District Two Female

Don't let them see anything. Don't give anything away.

Being a Career was never Pallas's plan. She joined the Academy because it was expected of her, because she could afford it. Training did entertain her, but that was it. Volunteering was never the end goal. Her biggest achievement in life was not supposed to be standing on this stage, a tribute in the Games. But when the Academy tells you to volunteer, you don't say no.

Pallas wasn't stupid.

She just wished some other girl had been chosen.

But, of course, no one could know that. So she kept her face in a stone mask, letting the audience, and other tributes, think she was a hardened Career, ready for the arena. Better to put on a front than to let anyone see what was actually running through Pallas's mind as she looked out over the square, over the girls who were safe. As she wished she was still with them.

"Now the boys," Vienna announced. "Let's see if we'll keep our volunteer luck up!" Pallas almost rolled her eyes. Vienna had been the escort in Two for as long as Pallas could remember. There were always volunteers, even if they weren't always willing. And she knew that some people who volunteered wished they hadn't.

Pallas's best friend, Dominic, had volunteered for the Games last year. He, like her, only trained because all the teenagers in Two who could pay for the Academy were expected to. Also like her, he excelled at his weapon of choice and was told he would be a tribute in the Games. But Dominic had told Pallas during their goodbye about how he wished he had just ignored the trainers, how he wished some kid was being sent to their death instead of him. At the time, Pallas had only partially understood.

She understood completely now.

Those Games were some of the hardest to watch. Pallas wanted to be right there with her friend, but she had to stay helpless in District Two as she watched Dominic navigate the Games. As she watched him kill the girl from District Seven in the bloodbath, as she watched him hunt with the Career pack, as she watched the numbers dwindle down to five and she thought he would be coming back home. But she couldn't do anything when the boy from Six slit his throat.

Pallas blinked, trying to clear away the memories. Don't let them see. Don't let them see.

Vienna already stood at the boy's reaping ball, rummaging through the slips to find the perfect one. She plucked one out and read out the name, "Samuel Chert!"

"I volunteer!" Roman's voice boomed over the square, demanding attention. He ran up to the stage, and took his place next to Pallas. Roman introduced himself to the district at Vienna's request.

"District Two, I am proud to give you your tributes for the 95th Hunger Games, Miss Pallas King and Mister Roman Garnier!" Vienna stepped back so the two could shake hands. Pallas looked directly into Roman's icy blue eyes, not letting any emotion show on her face.

May the 95th Annual Hunger Games begin.

Roman Garnier, age 18

District Two Male

Roman wasn't expecting too many visitors. His parents and brother, sure, to wish him luck, but not to say goodbye. They wouldn't have to do such a thing when he would be returning back to District Two.

It had been too long since Two had a victor. Eleven years, to be exact, when Cassia Marin returned from her Games with a prosthetic arm and haunted eyes. Roman planned to end that drought.

The door creaked open, and Roman's parents entered the room. His father pulled him into a hug, which Roman tried to shrug off unsuccessfully.

"Look at our boy," his father said. "A tribute in the Games."

"A future victor," his mother chimed in. Roman smiled.

"Without a doubt a future victor," he said. "These Games will be over before you know it and I'll be back here."

His father let go of him. "We're so proud of you. All your hard work has led you here. Remember that. You came from the bottom and now you're at the top."

"A humble beginning makes a good story, Roman," his mother told him. "The Games are as much about appearance as they are about strength." Roman already knew that. It had been drilled into his head by Academy trainers when he was chosen to volunteer. But he just nodded.

The Peacekeeper opened the door to take Roman's parents out of the room. His mother threw her arms around his neck, whispering, "I love you," before letting go and leaving. His father simply said, "Good luck," and then exited the room.

Roman didn't have to wait long before his older brother barged in. Gossan never got the opportunity to train at the Academy, since all of their extra money went towards Roman's tuition. But he never seemed upset over it. Instead, Gossan was smiling at his brother.

"You'll win," Gossan stated simply. Roman could have laughed at the matter of fact-ness of Gossan's tone. Instead, he grinned.

"Of course I will," he answered. "The outer districts will be a joke, and Pallas is no competition."

"And you can handle the other Careers."

Roman nodded. "I can handle them and the audience." Because he could. Roman knew it, and he knew that Gossan knew it, too.

Soon, the Peacekeepers came to take his brother away, and Roman waited in the room alone. Now, it was time to go to the Capitol.

Pallas King, age 17

District Two Female

Nothing could have prepared her for seeing the tears on Kenzie's face. Even though Kenzie attended the Academy - despite only being eleven - Pallas knew she was terrified of the Games. Especially after losing Dominic, who had been like a brother to her, the year before.

"Please promise you'll win," Kenzie sobbed, burying her face in the crook of Pallas's neck.

"I will," Pallas said, smoothing her hand down her sister's hair. "I'll be sure to win for you."

"And then I won't have to volunteer?"

Pallas's heart squeezed. No, if she came back, Kenzie would not be volunteering. Kenzie could not be a tribute. But her father, standing beside the two sisters, just laughed.

"Of course you'll volunteer, Kenzie," he said. "When Pallas wins, she'll get to mentor you, and I'll have two victors for daughters. What could be better than that?"

"It's not that easy, Dad," Pallas muttered, her face hardening again. Her father just waved her off.

"Sure it will be," he told her. "You're trained. You're driven. You'll be Two's next victor!"

Pallas kept her sigh to herself. If only you knew how I felt about this. Because Pallas never told her family about her feelings towards the Games, towards training, towards being a tribute. After losing her mother, Pallas's father became invested in the idea of her training and going on to win the Games. As much as she might have been opposed to volunteering, she didn't want to let him down.

But now she was wondering if she'd made an irreversible mistake.

It's no use wondering now. You're a tribute.

Pallas turned her attention back to her sister. "You still have a while before you'd even be ready to volunteer, Kenzie. And it's hard to be picked anyways. I wouldn't worry about it."

Kenzie wiped at her eyes. "Just please come back home."

The Peacekeeper came into the room to take her family away. Kenzie clung to Pallas, unwilling to let go. Her father had to detach the two sisters, and they left without another word.

Pallas stared at the closed door, jaw clenched and fists balled by her sides but nothing on her face. She would be coming back.

Here's District Two! What did you all think of Pallas and Roman? I'm not sure how many of you read one of my other fics, 24 More, but if you did, you might recognize Pallas's sister. ;)

Leave a review and let me know what you thought! Feedback helps me tremendously, and I want to make sure I'm putting my best work out for everybody. Until next time in District Three!

-D9T