Raya Nielsyn, 16

Her grandparents are the only ones who come to say goodbye. They cried and hugged her and tried to be supportive but couldn't help the fear that came when they had to say their final goodbyes. As much as they tried, they were always overprotective of her, treating her like she was fragile and breakable. But she'd change their mind about that soon.

The reaping went by perfectly. The escort (and the rest of Panem presumably) bought her act, cooing for her in sympathy when she sadly made her way upstage after feebly volunteering. They all thought that she was just like her actual weakling district partner, volunteering because she had no other choice.

She doesn't love that he's stepping on her toes and copying her strategy, but she'll deal with him soon enough. He could barely even remember his own name when he was up on stage, he was shaking so bad.

The Peacekeepers come to collect her from her room and they begin the march to the Capitol. They take her to a car at the back of the Justice Building first, where Reed and their escort are both already seated.

She puts her game-face back on, slumping her shoulders dejectedly as she climbs into the backseat and slumps into the leather next to Reed. He looks over to her and flashes a sympathetic smile. She points her eyes to the ground and keeps them there.

The car ride only lasts a few minutes, but Raya can already tell how difficult this whole strategy is going to be. Pretending to be so depressed is contagious, sapping the energy from her and leaving her feeling hollow. She's not sure how long she can keep it up without driving herself insane. Hopefully, the Games aren't very long this year.

The car comes to a stop and they all pile out at the entrance to the train. Reed looks like he's entering a new world when he steps in, his jaw slack as he stares at all the ornate furniture and decoration. The academy prepared her for all of the glitz and glamor of the Capitol, so her response is more reserved, her eyes lazily examining the room as they step inside.

Neither of them are given much time to look, the escort quickly ushering them along in a hurried tone. They pass through what seems like a dozen different train cars, each one more extravagant than the last. Glass chandeliers, wide mahogany tables, glass aquariums filled with colorful fish unlike anything she's seen before. By the end of their walk, even Raya is looking around with widened eyes.

Finally, they reach their destination though, and the car they stop in is the most simple of all of them. Inside are just a few chairs set around a small round table fitted for five. Seated there already, drinks in their hands, are their two mentors, and Raya couldn't have hoped for anybody better.

Haven McGill and Finnick Odair. Two of the most popular victors ever and with their Games only being a few years back, each of them only a year or two older than Raya herself. She wouldn't have to worry about sponsors with them two behind her, and she'd be getting the best advice on how to win out of the whole twenty-four tributes.

"Welcome aboard," Haven says, smiling at the two of them warmly. "Come, take a seat. Starla, be a dear and fetch them something to drink, would you?"

The escort nods her head enthusiastically and scurries off. Raya takes a seat beside Finnick while Reed awkwardly stumbles into the chair next to Haven. Finnick quirks a smirk and pops an olive into his mouth. "Well," he says through a full mouth. "Aren't you two something?"

Raya opens her mouth to respond, but Reed beats her to the punch. "I know I'm not a normal trained volunteer or anything. But you weren't either, right? I want to win, and I'm willing to listen to whatever it takes to do that."

She bites on her tongue in annoyance. Finnick shrugs nonchalantly and Haven chirps up. "Neither of us were exactly trained traditionally, and it seems a safe bet to say the same is true for both of you?"

Raya nods and that's all Haven needs to continue.

"It's not a problem, really. Just so long as you have some sort of skill you can hone that you do better than anybody else."

"I'm a fast swimmer," Reed suggests.

Haven nods. "And what about you, Raya?"

She resists the urge to wrap her fingers around Reed's throat and instead shrugs meekly. "I'm good with nets and knots."

"That's a start then for both of you. The next step is to get yourself into the Career pack. To do that all you need to do is showcase some strength. Show that what happened at the reaping was just nerves and not who you are. Act like a Career. You have to seem confident, strong, and cutthroat, whether you are or aren't."

"I think they'll manage," Finnick says, another smarmy smirk as he sips on a glass of champagne.

"Well then, we'll have plenty of time to talk more in-depth about strategy and sponsors and all that fun stuff, but for now take some time off. Get some rest, enjoy the food and drinks, explore the train, whatever will help you be at your best for tomorrow morning when we arrive in the Capitol."

Raya and Reed both stand up and make to go out, but she hangs back, and as soon as Reed leaves the train car and the door is shut behind him, she stops and turns around to face her two mentors who are still seated.

She drops the fatigue and fear and clears her voice as she takes a confident step toward them. She can finally drop the act and let them in on her strategy and get some real advice instead of the lame, dismissive stuff they gave to Reed because they already knew he stood no chance of winning. "Listen, I—"

"We know," Finnick says, waving a hand at her dismissively, not even looking up from his drink.

"But I—"

"The advice still stands," Haven says plainly, swishing a glass in her hand. "Get some rest and be ready to bring your A-game to the Capitol tomorrow."

Raya swallows a lump in her throat and curls her lips into an annoyed sneer. "I always do."

Ani Quill, 17

Her cheek still stings from this morning. She shouldn't have run away, that was a stupid mistake, she knew it was an accident, that he never meant to hit her, but everything just bubbled up and she needed to get away. Now she was getting her wish, and she might not ever see them again.

She got to see Vive at the Justice Building when she was saying goodbye, but her parents had their Peacekeeping duties and not even her being reaped could relieve them of that. She thought about getting Vive to pass on messages to her parents for her but thought better of that idea. Her parents didn't approve of her friendship with Vive, and having her deliver those messages was a recipe for disaster.

She wonders for a moment if her getting reaped was no mistake. She's been digging around in the Peacekeepers' secrets for a while now, no matter how much her parents tried to get her to stop, and she was closing in on something big. Maybe this was their way of throwing her off their trail.

But she wouldn't go away that easy.

That thought is enough to spurn her into action, hopping off the bed that she spent the first hour of the train ride slumping on. A quick shower and a change of clothes and she was ready to go, brown newsboy cap covering her head and a notepad and pencil from her dresser held in her hand.

She pushes out into the hallway and instantly realizes just how lost she is. After the goodbyes, the escort had tried to usher them to meet with their mentors but Ani was having none of it and wandered off on her own. She can't remember how she found her room (or, thinking of it clearly now, whether it even is her room) and the hallways are an unlabeled maze filled with excessive decoration, colors, and jewels.

However, it doesn't take long for her to catch some luck and stumble upon somebody who might be able to help her. Timorah Atari looks shocked to see her, freezing in the middle of the hallway while his deep brown eyes widen in surprise.

"Oh, hello, I wasn't expecting to see you there!" He says pleasantly, smiling unconvincingly as she storms up to him.

He flinches as she steps up to him and looks ready to run, but pauses as she stops just in front of him, her eyes curiously scanning over the boy who was chosen as her district partner. He's fourteen and looks like it, with hardly anything externally out of the ordinary about him at first glance. Ani knows better than to stop at just a first glance, though, and is quickly able to make out more details.

While it's mostly healed, he has a split lip that looks fairly recent. He's forcing a smile onto his lips that's obviously fake. His foot is tapping anxiously against the ground, his eyes occasionally darting to the door behind her.

"Hmph," She says, crossing her arms. She extends a hand. "Ani Quill, pleasure to meet you."

"Timorah Atari," he says. "But my friends call me Timi."

"Nice to meet you, Timorah. Where are you headed? Would you happen to know where our mentors are at just this moment? And what's the split lip from? Did you just get it on the train? Or is it from earlier today?"

His eyes go wide and he takes a step back. She closes the gap immediately, stepping forward herself as she takes out her pencil and begins jotting notes on her pad. "Um, I, uh. What are you writing?"

"I asked the questions first," she replies.

"Um, well, I was headed to find you, actually. Our mentors asked me to find you so that we could all sit down together and talk about strategy."

"Hm, is that so?" She asks, tapping the pencil to her temple.

He scratches the back of his head. "Um, yes?"

"It's a likely story, I'll believe it for now. Interesting that you avoided the latter two questions. We'll talk more later. So, where are our mentors?"

She closes the notepad and tucks the pencil behind her ear while he continues to look at her in utter confusion. "Oh, right!" He exclaims after a moment, slapping himself on the forehead. "Our mentors, um, come follow me, I can show you."

He spins on a heel and quickly starts speed walking through the halls, Ani having to nearly jog to keep up. As she follows him she takes one more look at the notepad and scribbles one final note to her list, smiling to herself in satisfaction as she reads over the list of questions.

District Partner: Timorah Atari, 14: Split lip, why? Doesn't want to answer, why? Appears nervous, an act or real? Interrogate more intensely before arrival in Capitol.

Escort: Foresta Verdanne: Reaping rigged? Don't question outright. Tease out smaller answers first, search for holes in story. Ask about normal procedures, experience as escort, strategy for drawing slips, any instructions she's given. Only ask big question once all other answers received satisfactorily.

Solaar Pertison, 15

He could get used to living in the Capitol. The constant stream of the most delicious food and drink he'd ever had, the hot showers, the television which had a seemingly infinite amount of channels to choose from showing all sorts of incredible television shows and movies, it's more than he ever could have hoped for.

And all he had to do to get all of this was just say two simple words. I volunteer. District Five has waited a few years since its most recent victor, and he's glad to be the one to bring pride to his district once again, especially with all the benefits that come with it.

He's lived his whole life just outside of Victors Village, watching a bunch of losers nowhere near as talented as him win the keys to a life full of everything they could ever want. Meanwhile, he's stuck going to a boring, useless school and eating the same tesserae grain bread and vegetable soup year in and year out. He's only sad that it took him so long to realize how easy of a decision this was and not doing it sooner. Life from now on was going to be spent living in easy mode.

Of course, his mentor had a different mindset than him. She was all up in arms at him, calling him an idiot when he told her his reason for volunteering and refusing to mentor him. As if he cares. Why would he need her help? It isn't like she's going into the arena with him. All that he needs to do is go in there, kill anybody who comes in his way, and boom! Instant victor, and probably the most popular one in all of Panem.

He flips the channel and wonders to himself if they'd ever let a victor move to the Capitol if they were popular enough. District Five wasn't terrible, but having to be next-door neighbors to all the other victors would be a drag. Plus, his parents would beg him to move in with him, and he'd have to say yes, and that would just about take away all the fun out of living there in the first place.

A few more clicks of the remote and he finds himself watching a recap of the reapings. Caesar Flickerman and Claudius Templesmith are sitting at a booth, excitedly talking about the batch of tributes and making their predictions about who they think is going to win. Solaar's interest is piqued, and he turns up the volume, eager to hear all the praise that will be showered his way.

"What are you watching?" A voice calls out from behind him. He turns around to see his district partner Ellie standing behind the couch with her arms crossed, looking at the television.

"What does it look like?" He snorts, turning back to the screen. "You can watch, just don't be annoying and try not to cry too much when they talk about how they already know I'm going to win and how obviously you're going to die in the bloodbath."

"Yeah, they're definitely gonna love your personality. I mean, who couldn't?" She asks.

He nods his head approvingly. "Exactly."

She mutters something to herself that Solaar doesn't bother paying attention to. He tunes her out and cranks the volume up another few levels as she sits on the couch beside him.

They go back and forth on-screen talking about their favorite tributes, and at first, they're just focusing on the Careers. They're both practically squealing while they talk about the District Two pair, but the boy from One named Kian gets plenty of adoration too. After that, they move on to the outliers, and Solaar sits up in his seat.

Well, first of all, we have to talk about all the volunteers, don't we? I mean, wow! So many! This is sure to be an exciting year.

Definitely right on there, Caesar. Although I'm not sure if either of our outlier volunteers are inspiring a lot of confidence from betters, particularly considering I can't recall the last time we saw a volunteer win that wasn't from District 1, 2, or 4.

Aw, well, you know I love rooting for underdogs, so I have to be cheering for little Timorah, but if I were a betting man, I'd be looking a bit further into the outliers for our best shots at a victor. I mean, just look at the pair from District Ten, wow!

And our boys from District Eleven and Twelve, too! Umber and Lucian are certainly no pushovers.

They keep on talking at their same rapid-fire pace after that, but Solaar isn't listening anymore. He shoots up from his seat.

"What the heck?" He exclaims. "Are they idiots? Did they just forget to mention me? How is a wimp from District Twelve supposed to be stronger than me?"

The talking heads are replaced with a chart, and Ellie suddenly bursts out into laughter. The chart reads Current Betting Odds for Victor and at the top of the list are the Careers, followed by the strong big outliers, and all the way halfway down the list is his name: Solaar Pertison, at 1:36. As if that wasn't offensive enough, his stupid district partner who didn't even volunteer is right above him at 1:35!

"It's okay," Ellie says, stifling her laughter. "Just try not to cry when they tell you how obviously you're going to die in the bloodbath, right?"

His eyes light up in rage and his fists tighten. "I'll show you who the bloodbath is gonna be you—"

"Hey!" A voice rings out, freezing him in place as he raises his fist towards Ellie. She looks at him in surprise that quickly turns to anger as she spots the fist that was going to be headed right into her head.

Ember Capala walks across the room, her shoes clicking against the floor as she walks in between the two of them and pushes them both to the side. "You don't get to fight each other before you get in the arena. You're lucky I caught you before you threw that punch, or else the Gamemakers would have given you a whole lot more than just a warning."

"Whatever," he bristles, slapping her hand off of his shoulder. He looks over at Ellie. "Won't have your mentor to save you in the arena. Try not to freeze up next time." He fakes a punch at her and laughs as she flinches.

Ellie bristles and clenches her fist and Ember shoves him away but he's already walking, arms in the air, laughing as he makes his way to the door. "A few more days!" He calls out.

A few more days.

Florian Sawyer, 14

Life continues to seem surreal. Life is already odd enough as it is. Florian could lay in the grass and stare up at the sky thinking about life all day every day and still never scratch the surface of all the questions he has about life. From simple things that probably have an answer, like why the sky is blue most days but then some days is colored pink and purple and red? To the more impossible questions and thoughts, like how wild it was just that the universe existed at all.

But then his mom met Jesmyn and Varys became his step-sister and suddenly life became even stranger. He tried just going on about his life like normal at first, but Varys was persistent, and eventually, she won him over with the stupidest idea in the history of ideas that they both for some reason thought was brilliant.

Fast forward a few months and now they've just stepped off the stage and left the district rioting in their absence. Their mentors had plenty of questions for them about that whole mess, but neither of them particularly felt like answering.

After their third or fourth round of interrogations about the aliens, Varys stormed off to somewhere in the train. Florian awkwardly followed after but lost track of her before long. Now he's been stumbling through the hallways, unsure where he's going or what he's doing.

The reality of the situation should be setting in by now. It's been long enough that the surrealness should fade away and he should start feeling the way he's supposed to feel. Terrified. Horrified. On the ground shaking and crying and praying to wake up from this nightmare.

But he doesn't feel any of that. Life has been so odd that this doesn't even feel out of the ordinary. It almost feels inevitable, like this was always going to happen. It kind of makes sense when he thinks about it that way. He's never been sure what he was going to do with his life, so maybe it makes sense that he's just not going to live much longer.

That's morbid.

He fishes into his pocket, looking for some sort of distraction to shift away from thinking about the Hunger Games and the reaping. Because the more he thinks about that, the shorter it's going to be before the foggy haze clears up and he suddenly realizes what's going on. The reality will set in that he's going to die. That Varys is going to die. That their moms are going to lose both of them.

His hand wraps around something hard and he yanks it out of his pocket, eyeing over the familiar object. It's a locket, a gray circular stone that he pops open to reveal the two pictures inside. On the left is the picture that originally came with the locket. On it is his first family. There's him and mom, both looking the same as they do now even three years ago, but the third figure in the picture already looks like a stranger to him. He looks the same as Florian does, sandy brown messy hair and with a big smile on his face as his hand clasps around Florian's shoulder.

Then on the right is a newer picture, just a few months old. Jesmyn and his mom are both close, hugging each other, but he and Varys look like complete strangers, skirting along the edges of the picture as they awkwardly shove their hands in their pockets and look in other directions.

"Hey, Florian."

The familiar voice snaps him out of his trance and he clasps the locket shut, quickly shoving it into his pocket. He quickly dabs at his eyes with his sleeves and then steps through the door to the room where Varys is sitting.

The whole room is entirely glass aside from the floor, all of the nature that the train is whizzing by is fully visible. The trees are dense and towering, a much brighter green than he can ever remember seeing on the rare occasion a tree could be spotted back home. He likes the feel and sound of the wheat fields, but this is pretty too.

"Hey, Varys," he says, sitting down on the floor next to the couch that she's sprawled out on. He stares up at the ceiling, and it almost feels like they're back in District Nine again, laying in the fields and looking up at a baby blue sky.

"Do you think that maybe we deserve this?" She asks quietly.

"No," Florian responds. "I don't think so."

They both go quiet after that. The only sound is the hum of the train as it beats down the tracks, the world outside flying by so quickly that the trees almost seem to blend together. When he looks all the way up though, it doesn't look like the sky is moving a single inch.

"Florian," she says after a while. "Thanks for being my friend."

He reaches into his pocket, his thumb brushing over the outside of the locket. He nods his head. "Yeah, Varys. You too."

Hi everybody! This is the first of the two train rides chapters! Thank you everybody for reading and for all the warmth and kindness! See you all soon!

-Avery