Kian Caelmor, 17, District One

He wakes up in an unfamiliar bed. His head pounds, screaming out in protest as he slowly sits up, stretches out his arms, and gives a long yawn. There's somebody else in the bed too, the covers pulled up over their head as they loudly snore. Kian doesn't really care enough to check who it is, though. It doesn't really matter.

The living room outside is a mess, and little pieces of memory start to slowly come back to him as he walks around the room. Cups and cans and half-empty bottles litter the floor. In the corner of the room there's a pool of rancid vomit and who knows what other liquids. A few people are passed out on the floor or couches.

He finds his shirt in the freezer of all places, and he throws it over his head. There's a mirror in the kitchen, and he checks to make sure everything is in place. No marker drawings are on him like some of the others in the living room, his teeth look white enough, and his hair is a mess but it doesn't look half bad like that.

The sunlight is blinding when he steps outside, and he has to shield his eyes for a moment as he gets his bearings. It's already noon, which is the first bad omen. The second is the fact that he's no short walk from home. There wouldn't be any time before the Reaping to walk all the way there and then make it to the town square afterward.

Kian pretends to be upset about that for about three seconds before shrugging it off and walking across the street. A cafe catches his eye and he slips in the door and finds a booth where the sun shines on his face through the window. He needs to look bright and alive for the Reaping.

Ivory is probably off at the academy training right now, try-hard that she is. He has a hard time imagining living life like she does. All work, no play, what's even the point? In his mind, if you weren't having fun doing something, there was something more worthwhile to do. And it worked plenty well for him so far. Sure his family didn't like it, but that was just a bunch of blah blah blah, what did he care what they say or want?

A waitress approaches him, and he flashes a charming smile that she sheepishly returns. "Hey beautiful, I'll take a coffee, make it however you like." He ends his order with a wink, and her cheeks turn pink as she nods her head and silently turns away.

He laughs to himself and drums his fingers on the table. When he looks out the window this time, the sunlight has tamed enough that he can see more than white in his eyes. The area is a familiar one. This is the poorer side of the district, not as bad as the miners out in the country, but without the luxury that he's become accustomed to thanks to his parents' rapid rise.

While Kian definitely liked the wealth and comfort that came with his family's new status, he could go without everything else. Like the arranged marriage his parents thought they could dump on him? As if he would marry some boring, frivolous, lightheaded girl named Hope. Just because her parents are friends with his parents.

Luckily he lives in District One, and with a whole lifetime of academy training to back him up, he had the freedom to make his own life for himself. One without the strings that his parents constantly tried to keep him attached to. Once he was a victor he'd have even more money than they would, and the freedom to do anything in the world that he wanted.

The waitress drops off the coffee, and he doesn't even glance at her, he's not thinking about her anymore. He takes a sip of the drink and nearly spits it out in the cup. Black coffee. How boring.

He managed to avoid his family at the town square. They'll be there to yell at him for avoiding them and for avoiding Hope and for volunteering and a million other things during the goodbyes, but he doesn't care about that. By then he'll be free, and he can just tune them out and pretend they aren't there.

The downside is that he got to the town square early, which means he has to listen to the entire speech that the mayor gives, and Lord is it boring. Somebody needs to tell him that giving the same speech every year makes it start to lose its effect. Or at least teach him how to fluctuate his voice. Use some intonation.

But whatever. It's over soon enough anyway. The mayor waddles away from the microphone while the crowd cheers and applauds like he said anything at all interesting. The escort takes the podium next, and surprisingly enough she's actually a new face. It's a pleasant surprise, the old escort was old, her skin getting gray and wrinkly, and the new escort, well, he's not as attractive as himself of course, but he's still a bit of a looker.

Kian snaps back into focus when the escort stops blabbing about himself and announces that he's going to select the two tributes. Unlike the other Career districts, he doesn't even get the chance to select a slip of paper, and that seems to surprise him. He's turned around and already headed over to the bowl of names when Ivory calls out from the middle of the crowd, "I volunteer!"

It takes her almost a minute to push her way out of the crowd. It seems like none of the other girls are even bothering to get out of the way, forcing her to squeeze her way out. Eventually, she makes it, and she looks properly angry, her fists clenched and her jaw set in a hard line. Kian laughs. He can't help it. If she notices she doesn't show it.

The escort waits for her awkwardly up on the stage and then shoves a microphone in her face. She looks at him oddly, and then he snaps his fingers and brings the microphone back. "Oh, right! What's your name?"

"Ivory St Germaine," she says. She unclenches her fist and puts up an obviously fake, weirdly positive smile. "I can't wait to make District One proud of me by winning another Hunger Games for us!"

The crowd gives a steady applause for that, and a few people even holler out a cheer. The teen section full of academy trainees, usually the loudest part of the crowd, is noticeably quieter.

"Alright then, next up we'll have to determine our male tribute!"

"That would be me!" He calls out. The crowd instantly parts for him, and he gives a few waves, high-fives, and handshakes as he makes his way through the crowd. Somebody (it sounds like Valentino) shouts out "I love you Kian!" And he laughs, pointing some finger guns at the area of the sound. "You know it!"

"Well, well, well, don't we have quite the superstar here!" The escort says, looking him over pleasantly.

"The name's Kian Caelmor, make sure to not forget it," he says, winking at the nearest camera.

"Well, I know that I for one, certainly will not!" The escort says. "What do you think, District One?"

The cheer is almost deafening this time, led by the academy trainees all at the front starting to chant his name. He laughs and waves out at the crowd, and tries to imagine how much louder the Capitol crowd will cheer for him. He just might have to invest in some earbuds.

Reed Crawford, 15

The ocean was calming. It was rhythmic. It was constant. It was powerful and unpredictable and massive but at the same time gentle and forgiving. Reed wished that he could just sail away into the blue emptiness and never come back.

That was what his father did, at least if the stories his mother told him were to be trusted. He decided that he had enough of living under the laws of anybody but himself, and so he set off to go be free. He used to get in bloody fistfights with kids over that story. They would laugh at him for believing in a fairytale and he'd beat them until they were as blue as the ocean and singing to him about how he was actually right, and how that story wasn't so unbelievable.

His momma would smack him every time she heard about that, and scold him for getting in fights over something as silly as words. But she never understood. It just made him so mad, he got carried away. He couldn't help it.

He throws a stone and watches it skip across the smooth blue water. Usually, a few boats are out sailing, catching fish, or patrolling for runaways or pirates. But today the seas are empty as they are calm. The sun is out, a few white fluffy clouds are slowly floating across the baby blue sky. It's a beautiful day. A perfect day.

A perfect day for him to do something monumentally stupid, that is.

The chosen volunteer at the academy backed out at the last minute, and so the academy announced that it would just be a free for all. If nobody volunteered then nobody volunteered. Otherwise, whoever was the first volunteer would be the one who got the honor. That by itself wouldn't mean much to him. What did catch his eye was the prize they offered to any volunteer. Five years of free academy training for a family member, and three years of tesserae.

From beside him, Beck chucks a stone into the water. It clashes against the surface and sinks into the water with a large splash. Reed shakes his head. "You're doing it all wrong, Beck. It isn't about force, it's about finesse. You have to make it kiss the water, not beat it into submission.

Beck rolls his eyes, and lays on his back. "Yeah, whatever," he says. He sighs. "I don't care about making it skip, I just wanna throw sumthin."

"Yeah." Reed sighs. "Me too. Me too."

They both sit in silence for a bit, the sun soaking on their skin. It's been a month since mom died, and things still feel like this. Too quiet. He wants to scream and yell and hit something but there's nobody for him to be mad at. Nobody except the world, and being mad at the world is like trying to drown the ocean. It's a whole lotta nothing.

"Hey, Reed," Beck says.

"Yeah?"

"Tell me a story about Dad. A real one, not one of the make-believe stories Mom used to tell."

"I don't remember much more about him than you do," Reed says honestly. Beck was three when he left, too little to remember anything, but Reed was only six, with not much more memory.

"I'm not asking for a good story. Just a real one."

He picks up a stone and runs his fingers along the edge. He thinks for a moment, then tosses it out, and watches as it skips one, two, three, four, five times before sinking.

"I remember the first time I skipped a stone. Not just a lucky skip, where you accidentally throw it the right way and it bounces. But like, a real, actual stone skip. It was just a couple of days before he left, and he took me and momma and you to a beach far from home. We musta walked a full hour to get there, but it was beautiful. Not a single person in sight. We stayed there all day until the sun went down, and at the end of the day he taught me the secret to skipping a stone, and when I did it he looked at me like he was so proud, like—"

He cuts himself off, his voice too raw to say anything more.

It's quiet for a little bit. The only sound is the ocean, the roar of it in the distance, and the crashing sound it makes when the waves hit the beach. Finally, Beck sits up and looks at him. "Could you teach me?"

Reed smiles and nods his head. "Yeah, I can do that."

Beck is scared to get checked in. It makes sense. It's his first reaping, and on top of that, there's no surefire volunteer. Or at least, there isn't as far as he knows. It eats Reed up inside, as if it wasn't enough already, deciding whether or not he should tell him. But it's too late to drop that bomb now, waiting in line to get checked in, and so instead he just ensures him that there will be a volunteer. And when that fails, he kneels down, squeezes his hand, and promises him that he would never let Beck go into the Games.

That doesn't seem to make him any happier. He just shakes his head. "That would be just as bad," he mutters. Reed doesn't have the heart to ask for him to explain any further. Instead, he just sends him along to the twelve-year-old section and goes to get himself checked in.

It's not like he wants to do it. He'd much rather just stay home in District Four and watch over Beck, the way his dad didn't—the way his mom couldn't— watch over him. But food and money and even clean water and clothes and all those other little things, they don't just appear out of thin air. He's tried getting work, but nobody wants to hire a scrawny fifteen-year-old. And even if they do, they certainly wouldn't pay him enough for both him and Beck to get by on.

The money that was leftover from their mom's savings is long gone, and their pantry is empty. They could sell the little shack by the sea they call their home, but how much more time would that buy them? A month? Maybe two?

This was the only way. He'd be taken care of in the academy, and maybe Beck would never forgive him for it, but he'd at least be alive to be angry about it. He finds new resolve, and by the time the mayor begins his speech, he feels ready.

The speech drags, and he feels his confidence waning as it stretches on and on, but eventually, it comes to an end, and the escort takes the stage. Already things start moving by in a blur. His heart races and doubt creeps into every corner of his mind. The girls go first, and the chosen volunteer is a fierce-looking girl named Raya Nielsyn with icy eyes that send a shudder down Reed's spine.

They talk for a bit, but Reed isn't hearing any of it, all he can hear is his heart beating, and his consciousness nagging at him. Monster, liar, coward, running away just like your dad, maybe that's why you always got so mad when people would tell you the truth. You hated to hear it, because you knew deep down you were just like him.

The escort reads a name, and Reed pushes everything aside, his voice hoarse and nearly silent as he calls out, "I volunteer!"

There's silence in the crowd.

"What was that?" The escort asks. She looks out at the crowd and squints. "Did somebody say something?"

He's suddenly aware of how much his limbs are shaking, but he pushes that aside too. He clears his throat and makes sure that this time his voice is loud and clear. "I volunteer!" He shouts, and while it doesn't exactly sound heroic or confident, it's good enough.

The crowd parts for him, and as he makes his way up to the stage, he locks eyes with Beck. He isn't sure whether the look in his eyes is anger or betrayal or sadness or shock or maybe all of that together. He doesn't have the guts to look him in the eye any longer and focuses on something else. Anything else. The sky, the ground, the crowd, the escort, the microphone being held in front of him.

He says his name and it sounds like somebody else is speaking. Then she asks him why he volunteered, and he struggles to find an answer. Eventually, he just shrugs. "Why does anybody?" He says, in a tone that's almost joking. Nobody laughs.

The escort calls out their names, and the audience claps as they make him shake Raya's hand. The girl smiles at him as she shakes his hand. He smiles back, and wonders if either of their smiles are real.

Hi! Whew, this is suuuper late, I know, but it's Christmas and so I wanted to write a chapter today and I did it just in time for everyone on the east coast it looks like! Thank you so much to all the super amazing people who have sent me super amazing characters today! I am so so overwhelmed and just happy and can't thank you all enough even though I KNOW I already say thank you wayyy too much. But thank you anyways because you are all awesome! All of the kind words mean so much, I never thought in a million million years that this many people would be reading my stories. I hope you like the chapter, and a super big thank you to DachshundLover04, Victoria the Bipolar Tribute, J4-EMBTGFAA, and 30777 for Kian, Ivory, Reed, and Raya. They are all amazing and I hope I wrote them well! Thank you for reading!

-Avery