[4] - August

I feel a lurch as the train pulls away from the District One station. I'm sitting alone in my personal room, as my father instructed me to do before I was Reaped. It's vital that I watch the Reapings in the other Districts to scout out my competition.

I'm startled by a sharp knock on my door. "August," I hear Princess call. "We should watch it together. Making strategies will be easier that way."

"Not right now," I call back. "I need to focus, Princess. We can talk later."

Princess doesn't respond; she's probably upset, but I can't find it in me to care. The Capitol seal on the screen in front of me fades and is replaced with the faces of this year's Hosts. The Hosts this year are Valentina Remington and Venia Sharpe, the famous stars of some popular show in the Capitol. The two of them are never seen apart and abide by a strict dress code; Valentina only wears red, and Venia only wears green. The two of them are dressed in their typical colors today, and it looks like they're directing the Capitol broadcast covering this year's Reapings.

"Welcome back to Wrapped with Valentina and Venia!" Valentina cheers. "The Reapings for this year's Hunger Games have just concluded moments ago, and our twenty-four competitors have been selected."

"This year's field of tributes is certainly exciting," Venia adds. "For any of you who missed the Reapings live today, let's begin with a short recap."

The recap is in order of District, so Princess and I are first. Venia comments on Princess' father - he's pretty well-known in the Capitol.

"And that's August Vassault on the left there," Valentina observes. "I can just tell that he's here to win, can't you, Venia? For any betters out there, he'll definitely be one to watch."

District Two is next in the recap. I watch as a giant, muscular boy named Pollux volunteers. Next to him is a girl named Zinnia; she doesn't look particularly threatening, but she holds a confident air that seems to demand respect from everyone around her.

After District Two is District Three, where two scrawny tributes are Reaped. I'm relieved to see how young they are - sometimes, District Three has wickedly clever tributes that are impossible to outmatch, but neither of these tributes look confident in their own abilities whatsoever.

Next up is District Four. Just like in District Three, neither tribute looks like competition to me, but they at least look more physically capable than the others, so I'll have to watch out for that.

The rest of the Districts pass quickly - nobody cares much about the outlying Districts. The tributes from District Six look on the brink of death already, and the pair from Seven have glazed looks of helplessness on their faces that make it apparent that they won't go far.

In District Eight, an eighteen-year-old boy is Reaped. He's quite tall, but there's hardly any muscle on him. A small, younger-looking girl is Reaped alongside him, but unlike the other girls before her, she has a determined look on her face that catches my eye. I've been studying the Games long enough to know that the only thing someone needs to win them is determination. Even though I didn't catch the girl's name, I make a mental note of her in my mind.

Just like the Districts before them, the rest of the outlying Districts have weak-looking tributes, with the exception of the boy from Eleven named Damon. Damon isn't particularly tall or massive in stature, but he's strongly built and has a murderous glint in his eyes that I can see even through the screen. The broadcast ends with District 12, as decrepit and depressing as ever. The two tributes look even younger than twelve years old, but I guess that's what malnourishment will do to kids like that.

Another all-too-familiar knock at my door signals that Princess has returned. "They're assigning our mentors, August," she calls through the door. "Come out here."

I let out a small groan as I stand and open the door to see Princess. She's changed into a simple outfit, and her blonde hair is pulled back into a braid. She takes my arm in hers and leads me into the next train car.

"Who do you think you're gonna get?" Princess asks as we walk. "I really hope I get Decimus... I know he's younger and all, but we both saw him last year. He clearly knows what he's doing."

"Right," I quietly agree. "Me too."

In reality, I'm hoping more than anything that I don't get assigned to Decimus Ilyrian. He may have been great in last year's Games, but he's absolutely terrifying. Not to mention that he's only fifteen years old this year. After all my years of Training, I wouldn't want to place my life in the hands of a child. The other mentor this year is Velvet Hughes, one of my idols; he has decades of experience, including mentoring Decimus in last year's Games, so he clearly knows what he's doing.

The door to the train car opens, and I step through after Princess. Decimus and Velvet are seated at a long table holding a feast for our dinner. At the head of the table sits Minetta Vanderbilt, who's as peppy as ever.

"Welcome, you two!" She cheers. "Please have a seat across from your mentors and dig in. I'm sure you both want to talk strategy as soon as possible."

I quickly scan the table in front of me, and my heart sinks as I spot my name on a placard opposite Decimus. Princess offers me a disappointed look as she moves to sit across from Velvet.

"Nice to meet you, sir," I say, shaking Decimus' hand before sitting across from him. All of this is so weird - Decimus is three years younger than me, and I have to constantly remind myself that he's not an adult.

"We both know how unpredictable the Games can be," Decimus muses quietly, "but I will say, I am... excited to see what you will do."

"Thank you," I say as Decimus starts loading food onto his plate. "I've been preparing for years now. I won't let you down."

"Good," Decimus says frankly. "But how are you feeling about the Games right now? You've seen the Reapings now. How do you feel about your chances?"

"I'm... excited," I say, hesitating for a moment. "Most of them look weak."

Decimus stares at me for a moment before sighing and shaking his head. "While we're working together, August, your life will be constantly on the line. It would be in your best interest to never lie to me again. I need to know the truth at all times, even to trivial questions. So tell me, how are you feeling?"

I stare down at my empty plate, embarrassed. "Sorry, sir," I respond. "I'm feeling nervous. I've been preparing for so long, and now I don't know if I have what it takes to win."

"Good," Decimus says again with a nod. "It's natural to be nervous. Let me ask you this, though... are you willing to kill to win the Hunger Games?"

Decimus looks me in my eyes, and I can tell that he's dead serious. "Yes," I tell him, because I am. I've never killed anyone before, but I'm willing to do what it takes to win.

"Then you shouldn't be nervous," Decimus says, leaning back in his chair. "Almost nobody else will be willing to kill when it comes down to it. It's against our human nature to kill. But if you don't kill your competition, who's going to do it for you?"

I just nod, but I'm not sure how much I trust Decimus' advice. He is infamously bloodthirsty, and there have been Victors who've won in the past by simply surviving to the end.

"How do you feel about the twist this year?" I ask Decimus, changing the subject. "Somehow, I have a feeling that it's going to screw me over."

"I couldn't care less what it is," Decimus says, stuffing a forkful of food into his mouth. "If you have what it takes to win the Games, you should be able to win no matter what the twist is. And if you can't, then you don't deserve to win. It's as simple as that."

If you can't, then you don't deserve to win. I try not to let my discomfort show as I serve myself some food. With Decimus in control of my fate, my life could depend on proving myself to him, and he's not going to be easy to impress.