Trigger warning: Suicidal thoughts in Arkane's POV. If you can't read it I can PM the parts without the thoughts!

Jacob Ezekiel (15) D9M

The Capitol stank. Every single thing about it. From the people to the supplies they gave us, none of it was worth our time or our money. Of course, it wasn't optional. I had to spend my time in the Capitol whether or not I wanted to. I also had to give money and supplies to the Capitol, along with the rest of the District. I was surrounded by blood money, and it was horrible. People had died to give me what I was now able to use until I died, too.

I thought about that while I was in the shower, washing the Parade off of myself. The water was steaming hot, a luxury almost nobody could afford in Nine. It felt amazing, especially when I was all scented up. That was almost worse than knowing I was surrounded by blood. Despite my best efforts, I had to admit that it was nice. I could feel layers of dead skin peel off, dirt and makeup all slipping off with ease. Any little thing my stylist had missed or added was wiped away, leaving me smelling like lavender in a room that was impossibly warm.

Fine, I thought to myself, stuck in a looping train of thought. I kept thinking of my parents, the sacrifices they had to make to give the Capitol the joys I was having. I kept thinking about all of the work I had done to get the Capitol where it was now, giving me a chance to enjoy myself. Fine. If I'm stuck here, I may as well use it. The Capitol is going to regret ever letting me step foot in here.

Naturally, I was going to waste every single thing I could. The Capitol was going to pay Fabric for its mistakes through me - and I knew which things it got from the Districts. But bread? I'd leave that alone. Milk and orange juice? Those I ignored. Gemstones? Crunch crunch. I ordered two hundred pieces of chocolate. Those were Capitol-made; no District had the supplies or means to make such a delicacy. I ordered fruity candy and a random stone chair. I got stained glass brought to my room. Then, as soon as there were no other people in the room, I destroyed it all. I didn't want to hurt an innocent Avox, but I wanted to ruin a lot of things. I destroyed my bed, tearing out the feathers in it. I smashed the glass into smithereens and took a desk to the chair. I threw the chair out the window. Everything I could do to make the Capitol a mess, I did.

By the end, I was exhausted. It turned out that destroying a lifestyle took a lot of work. I hadn't eaten anything yet. I didn't want to accept food from the Capitol, even if it was the best food in the world. I hadn't slept on the bed; I had chosen to sleep on the floor. That hardly worked. The carpet was nicer than my bed. I wanted to ruin that, too, but I'd have to do it later. I collapsed onto the floor and finally relaxed, cringing when I landed on glass. Oh well. The Capitol surely had a way to fix that.

Lumara Hansen (17) D10F

I looked completely average. That was a problem, by all accounts. I had to look insane, crazy, like something that could never come out of the Districts. After all, I wanted to blend in easily with the Capitolites, and they would never associate with someone who looked like a Ten kid. Unless that kid was a tribute, which was exactly what I was trying to avoid being. Tributes weren't allowed to leave the Games Building. Capitolites were.

My disguise wasn't too hard to get. Since I got everything for free, it was easy to dye my hair. I'd just have to cut it off before the Arena. Some brightly colored contacts were easy enough to find, and people swarmed to give me the dresses and jewelry I was after. Before I knew it, I looked nothing like myself. I was wearing a long purple gown, gaudy blue high heels, a pearl necklace, and eight bracelets. My hair was lime green, and my eyes were red. Nothing matched. Nothing "went." Basically, the disguise was perfect.

I walked toward the door of the building calmly, hoping that if I kept a straight face nobody would even question me. A Capitolite walked up to me and asked, "So, how's the hair dye feel? Sometimes it starts to itch after a little bit, but it'll leave in no time. I just wanted to make sure it wasn't itching yet."

Trying my best not to glare, I made my voice high-pitched and spoke. "Oh, it's just fine! I absolutely love this color. I want to see how it compares to the sky!" I kept up conversation with the random man the whole way out of the building, and then I was free. No guards questioned me. Nobody suspected. I stripped out of the dress and pulled off the contacts, then wandered the streets of the Capitol.

It took a long time to find what I was looking for. I wrapped my dress around my arm and reached out to grab the stray cat I had found. She was a big thing, hissing and clawing at me, but she couldn't get through the layers of Capitol fabric. I picked her up and carried her back to the building, wrapped tightly in the dress so no one could see her. Then I was questioned, but I lied. I said I got lost; my dress had been ruined. I had to get back to training as soon as possible. For some reason, they let me. So I went back to the poison station, pulling out the cat and picking up a syringe.

Arkane Erransaw (16) D11M

My eyes brimmed up with tears. I could barely contain myself, clenching and unclenching my fist and biting my lips. Only one hand was free. The other was tightly gripping the cause of my tears, ready to throw it. He looked up at the rope, trying to consider what to do with himself. He could easily walk away. Or he could end all of his problems once and for all, the much easier solution. Only a couple people would care. But were they worth it?

I couldn't stand it. For the first time in my life, I was reading a book. It was absolutely beautifully written. This Adam guy, he was human. He mattered as much as I did. He lived an even harder life than I did, and yet he wasn't unrealistic. No, he was perfectly real, and I wanted to save him. I wanted to help him. I hadn't known the written word could pack so much emotion, but seeing the boy I had just met in a book... It was breaking me. It was leaving me questioning my life and wondering whether I would ever be good enough to write something like that.

His hand lingered over the rope, not quite touching it. Why not turn toward the door? It wouldn't be hard to keep going. Mom would bake cookies as soon as he was home. They'd be gross, but she was always so happy when he came back. She always knew he was in danger. I wanted to scream. I wanted to tell him that no pain was worth taking your own life over. Hadn't I considered it? Growing up unloved, my parents not touching me, the thought ran through my head more than once. But things turned better. My parents did love me, they just didn't show it. Adam's life would get better if he could just make himself wait.

He turned, looking toward the door. Five feet away, no more. An abandoned building, nobody was going to find it. His parents would never know he was dead. His dad would just miss his paycheck. The rope laid heavy in his hand, and he reached up to the rafters, tying it to them. One knot, two knots, three, his hands took over, knotting the rope until there was no slack left. I let out a gasp as I turned the final page. The book just ended there? What kind of author did that?

I got up and ran to the shelves, getting help in finding the rest of the series. There were eleven books, eleven novels outlining Adam's pain. That was overwhelming. I needed to know that he would be okay. There was a chance I wouldn't make it back to Eleven to find out, and that was a chance I wasn't going to take. Instead, I started reading every novel I could, spending way too much time holed up in my room.

Amelia Gomez (17) D11F

"Do you wanna be my ally?" Arkane asked me, surprisingly casually. I had shrugged at the time, knowing that finding an ally was always a good idea. After all, he was my District partner. The Capitol loved things like that, so we'd likely get allies.

"Why?" I asked, knowing it was awfully blunt. Most people tried to gauge whether the ally would be good for them. Most people would try to flaunt their strengths to make sure the ally didn't leave. I wanted to know why he thought I was an ally that was worth his time. He'd never admit it if he just wanted a body bag, but I'd be able to pick up on it.

"Jake's making a mega-alliance. We're almost big enough to take on the Careers, and we want every kid we can get. You seem pretty strong, and, to be honest, I think we could be an alliance inside of it. After all, we're going to need someone to turn to when we break up." I appreciated Arkane's honesty. He was as blunt as I was, getting straight to the point and not pretending to mean something he didn't. It would be good to have a big alliance. It would be good to have an alliance inside the alliance. So I nodded, holding out my hand for him to shake. It seemed like the right thing to do.

"All right. We're allies now. Who else is in the group?" I asked, wanting to know what he meant when he said "almost big enough to take on the Careers."

"Let's see... Me, you, Jake, Lumara, and Nyle," Arkane said, obviously trying to remember their names. It sure took him a while, but that made sense. They were new people, people he was likely hoping not to get attached to.

"Nyle?" I asked, not bothering to hide my surprise. "He volunteered. He's an idiot. Are you sure we want him in the group?" No Twelve in his right mind volunteered. That meant Nyle probably just wasn't in his right mind. He could make so many bad decisions, from burning our supplies to attacking the Careers. He was definitely risky business.

"We need all the people we can get. And we outnumber him. So we can roll with it," Arkane replied, lowering his voice. I nodded. I didn't like trying to trick people. Honestly was the best policy. But I could do it for long enough to make sure I made it back home safely. So I had an alliance inside my alliance, waiting for the larger one to fall apart.

Nyle van Buren (17) D12M

I had a strong alliance. That was a good thing. Careers won not because they were strong on their own, but because they worked well together. If they didn't, a Career didn't win. That was the trend that had popped up in the Games over and over again. I was trained, but I still needed an alliance. One kid against twenty-three wasn't good odds. So I had a strong alliance, one I was ready to slip into the background of. I didn't need to be leader. I didn't need to be in a spot where I would be the one to blame if something went wrong. I just wanted someone watching my back if I got into a fight.

Despite my strong alliance, though, the Careers were intimidating. I saw them working with their weapons, knowing exactly what to do to get a killing blow. It was amazing to watch, but I was worried. I wasn't that good. Even though I had training. So all of my untrained allies wouldn't be as good as they were. We wouldn't be predictable, for sure, but it was still not promising to know that someone so strong was going to be in the Arena with us, constantly hunting for their next kill.

Holding my weapon, I practiced. I hit the dummy over and over, trying to figure out the best hits, the ones that were easiest for me. I didn't want to think about the best overall, the best for the average person. I had to pinpoint my skills, hone them to perfection. It was my only chance at winning. It was my only chance at getting back home, reminding my parents about me. They couldn't forget about me. They couldn't pretend their son didn't exist. I wouldn't allow it, dragging myself back to them over and over again. I was a reminder of their mistakes. But being gay wasn't one of them.

Slash! Slash! Slash! My sword hit the dummy over and over again, leaving long, trailing marks. I didn't like where it hit, though. I tried to flick my wrist each hit, guessing at where I'd land. Rarely did a killing blow happen. If I got into a fight with a Career, I had to get in a killing blow right away. Otherwise, there was a great chance that they'd beat me to it.

That'd be permanent. A little bit of the thought clicked in my mind. If I died in the Arena, it was permanent. It wasn't some game I could change my mind about. Of course, I had known that all along. It just hadn't fully processed, the reality of the sentence never quite settling in my mind. I could die. I could die for good, forever. Just like that, I'd blip out of existence, never to be seen again. I didn't want that at all. For a quick second, maybe the first time in my life, I just wanted Chevron.