Last round of tribute introductions!

SHELBY LEONE, DISTRICT FOUR FEMALE

I awake to the sound of yelling in the street. Where am I? What's going on?

I throw off the covers and look at the commotion, but a chilly draft hits my body. My unclothed body.

Ah. My memories from last night make an abrupt comeback. At least I don't have a horrid hangover.

I slip carefully out of the unfamiliar bed and scan the floor for my clothes. Oversized shirt, not mine. Definitely a guy's. A short skirt, also not mine. I definitely wore maroon last night, not blue. Ah- there. I grab my skirt and put it back on. I don't care enough to find my underwear from last night, I don't need it that badly. Where's my blouse?

I spot the sheen of the black fabric peeking out from the corner of the room. Fantastic! I tiptoe over to grab it, but I remember as I pick it up that it ripped last night.

"Ugh," I mutter to myself. There's no way that this will be wearable, even for me. Not a chance. I snatch up the men's shirt from the ground and give it a sniff. Not too bad, mostly smells of cologne. That'll do. I slip it on and tie it at my waist, tucking the extra fabric up so it isn't quite so baggy. I check the room for a mirror, but there isn't one. All right, definitely a straight boy's room then.

Another bout of raised voices outside draws my attention to the window, and I push aside the curtain to check it out. A Peacekeeper stands on the street below, trying to speak to an older man who's struggling to keep himself upright. The man is yelling at the Peacekeeper as he staggers, and I roll my eyes. A familiar sight to those of us acquainted with the District Four bar scene- the morning patrols to get all the drunks out of the way. None of my business today!

I turn around to meet the gaze of one of my new friends from last night. A redheaded girls stares at me sleepily from the bed, and I nod politely to her. A small blush blossoms on her cheeks and she smiles back. She moves to get out of bed, but stops when she realizes her lack of clothes.

"Is this yours?" I pick up the blue skirt and show it to her.

"Yes, thanks," she whispers, and I toss it over to her. My throw isn't perfect, and it lands on the sleeping dude in the middle of the bed. The other girl giggles, and I laugh with her.

"Wha…?" The groggy owner of the bedroom half awakes and looks around. His atrocious bedhead makes him look like a shaggy dog, and Redhead and I both start laughing louder. She starts putting her clothes on, and the boy tries to rub the sleep out of his eyes. Spencer. Right, that's his name. Got it. I've definitely talked to him a few times before. I feel a little bad about not knowing the girl's name, but that's life!

I find my shoes near the door and start putting them on to leave.

"Leaving so soon?" Spencer asks, trying to sound cool even though he's still in bed and I'm dressed and ready to leave.

"Afraid so." I shrug and turn to go.

"Wait!"

I look at him. What now?

"I… had a good time last night… with both of you."

I try not to roll my eyes. "Thanks! Unfortunately, I can't say the same about you!"

The redhead girl gives me a hurt look. "Excuse me?"

"Oh no, not you, babes, you're fine." Pleased with my response, she grins at me.

Spencer jumps out of bed. "What do you mean?"

"You're just not that great, or we're not that compatible. No offense. No regrets either, to be fair. It just wasn't amazing."

He pouts. "Shelby, I really care about you. I thought we had something."

Great, another one who caught feelings. Exactly what I need. "You'd say that with two girls standing in your room at the same time? Hate to break it to you, it was just fun, nothing else. Again, no offense, but I gotta go."

I flee the scene without giving him a chance to respond. When I reach the street, the Peacekeeper and the old man are gone and I'm left to navigate my way home. Or not… I think I know where I am. It's not hard to figure out for someone who's explored most of this area of Four.

I wave jauntily towards Spencer's window, just in case he or- Maris! That's her name!- are looking out of it, and then stroll down the street. A right turn, walk a block or so, another right turn… no, left. Wait.

There! Darya's house. I knock on the door and thankfully she answers rather than her parents.

"What the hell are you wearing, Shelby?"

I giggle and step inside. "I had to borrow the nearest shirt I could find this morning, mine got ruined!"

"Come upstairs, I'll lend you something of mine for the Reaping ceremony." We rush up the stairs to Darya's room, where Kendra is asleep in a chair.

"Is she okay?" I ask.

Darya rolls her eyes as she digs through her closet to find an adequate shirt for me to wear. "Yeah, she's fine, just had a little too much to drink last night so I brought her back here."

I wrinkle my nose. "Ugh, been there. I'm so glad I didn't drink a lot last night, since today's the ceremony and all."

"Yeah, our last one, finally! And what do you mean, you didn't have a lot? You went home with Spencer AND Maris!"

"I wanted to have fun, they seemed like my best bet," I shrug, "but that kind of flopped, not gonna lie. And I'm thinking of volunteering today, what do you think?"

Darya sputters, but Kendra jumps into the conversation. "Did I really just wake up to you saying you might volunteer? Shelby, what?"

"Yeah," I say defensively, "What else am I gonna do with my life, hooking up with random people and going out every night? There's not exactly a lot to do around here. I'm already bored."

"So you'd go into the Hunger Games? You could die."

"I've trained! It's a risk I'm willing to take in order to actually accomplish something! And besides… think of everything there is to experience in the Capitol!"

Darya rolls her eyes, clearly not believing me. "Well, if you're seriously considering this- out of nowhere, may I add- you'll at least need to wear pants. There's no way you'd make it to the stage in that skirt."

ANDROS VALIER, DISTRICT ONE MALE

"Andros, can I come in?"

My little sister Ishan stands tentatively in the doorway of my room. I set down my weights and motion for her to enter. "What's up?"

"Are you really going to volunteer today?" she asks, eyes wide.

I nod. "I'm contractually obliged to, you know that. Besides, trainers from the whole district chose me out of anyone else, and I accepted."

Ishan sits on the tiny folding chair in the corner of my room, and I pick up my dumbbells and resume my morning workout. "And if you didn't agree, would they really make you repay all of the scholarship money?" I nod, but don't stop my exercise. "That's kind of dumb. Like, it's your life, they shouldn't have control over it like that."

I briefly weigh the benefits of stopping my workout- the gain of regular training versus a heavily emotional moment with Ishan- before setting down my weights for good. "This has always been the deal, from the day I got my scholarship to the Platinum Academy. Besides, it's fair. They've given so much to me and our whole family over the years, it's time for me to give back."

"By volunteering? I don't want you to die in the Games."

Ah. That's why she's here. She's scared for me.

I manage a chuckle. "Don't worry, Ishan. I'd rather take a risk in the Games than spend the rest of my life in the gem quarries. Those can be just as dangerous over time. Besides, the odds of me coming home are pretty good, if I do say so myself."

"I know you're really good at training, but even so, there are two volunteers from One-"

"Ishan. I can't promise I'll come home, because that's not a fair promise to make, but I can guarantee that I am the best chance District One has of getting a victor this year."

"Are you saying that just to reassure me?"

I laugh again. My little sister is clever, but I'm always honest about the facts with her. "I'm saying it because it's true. I've been training in combat and strategy for six years now, ever since I got the scholarship. Eliana Schaefer has only been in the top-level training courses for the last year. I am stronger and more prepared than she is." Privately, I remind myself that Eliana, my district-partner-to-be, is controlled solely by her emotions. At least I know I'm not a loose cannon like she is, and therefore more likely to make smarter decisions in the Games.

"That's good to know." Ishan is quiet for a moment, and I almost restart my routine before I remember to check her face for emotion. She's fidgety and looking nervously between me and the floor. "Are you still worried?"

"Of course I am! I don't want to lose you. I love Mom and Dad and Magnus and my friends, obviously, but that doesn't mean I want to see you go into the Games!"

"I understand." I think I do. I wouldn't want to see any of the family injured, not after all they've done for me. "It's hard, I know. But think of it like a transaction. If I accomplish this, it's like winning the lottery for us. None of the family would ever have to take a dangerous job again. We'd be safe." I'd be providing my family something that truly signifies love. How much more could I do?

"Is that how you think of it? Like a transaction?"

"Yes. I think it's the smartest way." Ishan takes a deep breath and I watch as she steels herself to the idea of me volunteering.

"I love you, Andros."

I return the hug in equal measure. "I love you too." At least, I hope I do. I hope that's what all of my actions and care amount to. I hope that's what love means. I can't exactly be sure.

Ishan, satisfied with our conversation, leaves my room to get ready for Reaping Day. I resume my weight training, making a mental list of things I need to do before making my way to the town square. Somehow I have to take this training equipment back to the Academy, because I won't have any need for it after today. Silve was gracious enough to let me borrow it so I could stick to my personal schedule even though the training rooms are closed for Reaping Day, but she told me it had to be returned by the time I volunteered.

I sigh and finally give up on my training for the day. I'll get enough of a workout just taking these back to the Academy.

Would it really be that bad if I didn't take this back? What would the trainers do, punish me? Either I'll return a victor and they won't care about the equipment any more, or I'll die in the arena and it won't be my problem.

The thought of dying is strangely distant in my mind. A statistical possibility, yes, but it feels alien to me. More alien than most things, anyway. I try not to take my training for granted, but I know my strength and I know that, in the arena, my mind will benefit me. There is no logical reason why I wouldn't be able to win.

No. I need to take it back. That's the end of it. I made a promise and I'll stick to that. There's no reason to break my word now.

I gaze reluctantly at my borrowed weights. They can at least wait until I shower and prepare for the ceremony.

Today is my day, after all.

LOREN ASOU, DISTRICT FIVE FEMALE

"Loren, ready to go?" My twin older brothers Beckett and Cai say simultaneously.

"Jinx!" Cai beats Beckett to the punch, and Beck sighs dramatically.

I laugh at them. "Yeah, ready as I'll ever be."

Mom leans out the door as we exit. "See you all in the town square shortly! Be safe!" The three of us wave and begin the walk to the Reaping ceremony.

My stomach knots up at the thought of the Reaping. I'm only fifteen, and today marks the halfway point of my eligibility. I can't believe I have to anxiously stand through four more ceremonies… and even if I survive them, some poor girl is going to have to take her place in the Games every year. Every year! It never ends.

"What's wrong?" Beckett asks.

"Yeah, you look like you're about to be sick," Cal adds.

I wave off their concerns. "Just the Reaping, like always. Nerves. Nothing else, no need to worry."

Beckett nods sagely. "Me too. I'm terrified right now, knowing that this year my name is in that bowl more times than ever before. And Cai has the same number as me, which, you know. Doesn't help much." Cai murmurs his agreement.

"I wish we didn't have to do this." I grumble.

"Don't we all?" Cai jokes dryly. I try to smile, but the stress makes it hard to find jokes funny right now. The Games have been around since before the three of us were born, and I can't imagine a world without them. I try, but it's hard to feel what life would be like without the looming annual pressure. Or without the relief of turning nineteen and knowing you won't ever be eligible again. My older sister's nineteenth birthday party a few weeks ago was the biggest celebration I've ever seen, second only to the parties when Romany Argent won the Games last year. I wasn't allowed to go to any of the really big ones, though.

I trail my brothers through the streets of Five, and we join a steadily growing stream of teenagers headed to the center of town.

"Loren!" squeals my best friend from somewhere behind me. Cai and Beckett whip around at the sound of my name as well, just in time to see me get tackle-hugged by Bea. I laugh for real as she squeezes me, her energy palpable. "My parents gave me a little pocket money this morning! Will you come with me to the bakery? The one near the square should still be open today! We can get pastries to eat!"

"I'd love to!" I glance between Bea and my brothers. "But… I promised Cai and Beckett I'd go with them this morning." Bea's face falls. "But I want to go with you!"

Cai rolls his eyes at me. "Go with Bea, Loren. We'll see you later. You know how the check in works and all."

"Thank you!" I give my brothers a quick hug and then turn towards Bea. She grins, bouncing up and down wildly.

"Are you ready? What kind of pastry do you want, I'll pay for it! I'm trying to decide if I should get a morning bun or a cinnamon roll or a piece of crumble cake or a cheesy puff!"

I laugh. Crumble cake does sound good to me, but I don't know what all this bakery will have available. "I'll decide when we get there! You get what you want, and then I'll use what's leftover. It's your money, anyway."

Bea seems oblivious to the stress of the upcoming ceremony as we continue on the walk to the square. The crowds are getting thicker, and Bea pulls me close to the inner edge of the sidewalk to keep out of the way.

"Will they let us bring food to the Reaping? I don't think I've ever seen anyone eating during the ceremony before. At least not in the teenage sections. Should we wait until after to go to the bakery?"

"No, silly," Bea scoffs, "Everyone will go to the bakery afterwards, it'll be too crowded! If we get our food now, we can eat it before we check in. There's still plenty of time, we don't have to go to the fifteens section as soon as we arrive."

I nod. Good point. We duck into the bakery and I'm greeted with the mouthwatering scents of fresh baked bread and cake icing. The baker is putting out baskets of rolls in the display windows, and I can see her husband decorating an elaborate cake in the back room.

"Hello, ladies, how can I help you today?"

I take a second to look at the pastry display as Bea makes her requests. My eyes land on a delicious looking iced bun.

"Can I have that, please?" I ask. Bea hands over the spending money her parents gave her.

The baker frowns at the bills in her palm. "I'm sorry, this isn't enough for both of those orders."

Oh. Bea looks at me helplessly, and I gaze longingly at my would-be breakfast. I can't rightly spend my friend's money, and I don't have any of my own. "I'm sorry, I won't take that one then."

"Wait." The baker gives us a long hard look and purses her lips. "You know what, honey? Take it. Keep your money, too. It's Reaping Day, you kids deserve a treat."

Bea lights up and snatches back the money and the slice of cake she asked for. The baker laughs at her eagerness. "Pass on a bit of kindness, won't you? It's a hard enough day in the districts anyway."

I gingerly take my pastry. "Thank you, ma'am. It's very nice of you."

"No problem, honey. Today's a good day for business. And may the odds be ever in your favor."

I nervously smile and follow Bea out of the shop, taking a bite of my iced bun. It's just as delicious as it looked.

Perhaps, since I got lucky enough to get a free dessert this morning, my luck will continue in the Reaping?

VALERIE WANG, DISTRICT TEN FEMALE

It's like I can feel everyone's eyes on me- especially my father's, who gazes out from his seat onstage next to the Mayor. I notice that he isn't talking to any of the other District officials, which is out of place for the normally jovial Deputy Mayor.

It's all because of me. I know it.

I maneuver around the clumps of teenagers waiting for the Reaping to start in the town square and make my way to the eighteens section. As I move past some of the other girls, they pull away from me and huddle a little closer together. Are they whispering about me? Is that what their urgent conversation has turned to?

Please let them be nervous about the Reaping instead. I'm so tired of everyone's hushed talk being about me.

Across the section, I spot Marie standing next to Preston and Margot. It's good to see that they still speak to her. As I gaze at Marie, she makes eye contact with me and tries to motion for me to come over and join her and the others. I snap my eyes back forward. I can't. Not here, in public. I can't risk someone coming up to us or saying something cruel or spitting out threats. Marie is too kind offering to still see me. I can't put her at risk like that. I'll only manage to get her hurt even more. And the talk it would cause… Val and Marie got a little too close at the Reaping ceremony… it would be miserable. Everyone else would only get worse. She shouldn't have to be seen with me.

Our Capitol escort, an elderly man named Alpha Omega, comes on the stage to begin the Reaping ceremony, and I'm almost glad for the distraction. My father leans over to whisper something to the Mayor, who nods and steps up to the podium.

The Treaty of Treason is painful to sit through, but it's calming to be invisible in the crowd. Everyone's attention is focused on the ceremony, either in careful focus or nervous energy.

The Capitol escort waggles his cane at the audience. He's got a lot of flair for an old man, honestly. "Welcome, District Ten, to the Reaping Ceremony for the Twenty First Annual Hunger Games!"

He is met with stony silence from the crowd.

"All right, then, we'll step right to it. First up, the ladies." He shuffles to the first bowl full of names. "Marie Sharpe!"

No. No no no no NO. It can't be. Not Marie. Hot tears well up in my eyes and my heart leaps into my throat as her name rings out through the crowd. My Marie.

I can't even imagine her in the Games. She's already been through enough. I've already put her through enough. I know it's not my fault she was chosen but it feels like it, it feels like the universe has found another way to hurt us, it feels like something else has been ruined.

As Marie steps out from the crowd of eighteen-year-olds and takes her first wobbly steps towards the stage, I want to run to her. I want to hold her and smooth her hair and look deep into her eyes and tell her everything will be okay. I wish I could protect her. From the Games, from all of it. She should have a chance to repair her life. I should be the one who has to die. It would be easier than living here any longer. I deserve it. I'm the one who ruined everything, the one who took it too far and got us discovered.

If I were gone, she might have a chance to be happy again. But there's no chance of that if she's going into the Games...

She doesn't have to. Someone could volunteer and save her. Marie, beautiful and alone on the stage, wouldn't have to go to the Games.

I could- no. There's no way. I wouldn't stand a chance in the Games.

I could. I should. It's what I deserve.

"And now for the-"

"I volunteer!" My whole body starts shaking as the words escape my lips, but I propel myself forward. "I volunteer. She can go."

Marie gasps as I make my way towards the front of the crowd. "Val, no-"

The old escort overrides her, motioning towards me with his cane. "A volunteer in District Ten! Yes, yes, yes, darling, come on up! Tell us your name!"

"No, don't let her!" Marie pleads, reaching out to grab my hand. Our eyes meet, and the sorrow that passes between us shocks me to my core. Then Peacekeepers are leading her off the stage, our hands part, and I'm left, feeling struck by lightning.

"I'm Valerie Wang. I volunteer. For her."

The district is suddenly abuzz with quiet comments and side conversations, like they've been reminded that they have the ability to make noise. Were they silent before, or did I just not notice the gossip in my adrenaline? Am I getting used to it?

Seated by the Mayor, my father clenches his jaw but does not move or speak. He looks straight ahead, not even acknowledging my actions. I try not to focus on him, and instead watch Marie as she's led back towards the eighteen-year-old section. There are tears running down her face. Are they for me? I want to tell her not to cry, that this will be what's best for me. For her, too. For us, I suppose, if there was still an us.

"An exciting turn of events for everyone, I'm sure, but let's have silence for the next name." Alpha Omega waits for the district's whispers to die down before he moves to the other bowl. "For the boys… Aspen McKinley!"

REDMOND ALDERIDGE, DISTRICT ELEVEN MALE

"And this year's female tribute is… Calandra Belmont!"

My heart drops at the reveal of the name. I know Calandra, at least a little. Our parents work on the same field rotation, and on occasion she's listened to me play songs. That one time I found an old ukulele and carried it around with me for weeks until the strings snapped, she danced along to the music I played when there were a lot of us kids in the fields.

That was a couple years ago, I couldn't have been more than ten. That would have made her… twelve? And she's coming out of the fifteens section now. Even from my spot in the thirteens, I can see her shaking as she walks. From several locations in the crowd, I can hear people crying.

That's the worst part of the Reapings, I decide. Being able to hear people cry for their loved ones. I wish I didn't have to live through five more years of it. More, actually, since I'll still have to attend Reapings when I'm no longer eligible myself.

I'm sure it's easier when you aren't at risk, though.

The sobs in the audience make my eyes water in sympathy, and I wipe away the welling tears. I don't want to cry here standing next to Varro. I don't feel like I know Calandra well enough to cry for her yet.

Onstage, Calandra's own tears start to roll down her face, and I can't stand to watch. All of this sucks, just watching people be picked for the Games. Watching them go off to it. Why do we all just have to stand here and watch? We can't even do anything about it. There's no way to cheer people up or make it easier. I'm totally and completely helpless.

The writhing fear in the pit of my stomach grows stronger as the escort Lucretia steps towards the other bowl.

"And the male tribute is… Redmond Alderidge!"

Before I even have time to register the name, the sound of my family's voices hits me like a truck. "No!" bellows my father, and my mother wails in despair.

Next to me, Varro stares with wide eyes. "Redmond… you…"

I've been Reaped. At age thirteen. Even though everyone told me the odds were in my favor and that I wouldn't have to worry yet.

"Redmond?" Lucretia repeats, and I step forward like I'm in a dream. Her voice fades out, and so do the voices of my family. It's like I'm surrounded in fog.

After what feels like years, I find myself on the stage next to Calandra. Lucretia is still talking, but I don't know what she's saying. Calandra's sniffles break through my fog a little, and by reflex I offer my hand for her to hold. She takes it, but she may as well be holding a stick for all I can feel. It's like I'm floating above my body.

Reaped? Me?

After some time, a Peacekeeper takes me by the shoulder and leads me into the Justice Building. I've never been inside before, and if I could focus on anything I know I'd be in awe of the architecture and wealth. Instead, I'm led into a sitting room and left alone, still in my hazy state of mind.

It's another eternity before the doors burst open and my parents rush in. I snap back into reality and find myself crying, hot tears pouring down my face. My father lifts me up in a bear hug, squeezing me so tight I can barely breathe. My sobs come in hiccups, and I only semi-register my mother's hands on my face wiping away my tears.

"Redmond… Redmond…" is all they can say, but I can feel their love and fear emanating off of them. Father drops to his knees, setting me back on the ground but not letting his grip loosen.

"I wish I could just pick you up and carry you back home before anything bad has a chance to happen-" he starts, but trails off into a strained silence. I wrap my arms around his shoulders and hug him back, trying to let him know that I understand. My mother joins the hug, embracing both of us at once. I try to soak up the feeling of this, try to memorize the way it feels to be close to my family.

"Where's Timothy? Is he here?" I ask, squirming out of the hug and looking for my older brother in a frenzy. Why is he not in here at the same time as my parents?

"It's okay, it's okay," Mother starts, rubbing my shoulders to soothe me, "Timothy is next in line. He wanted to come in by himself. He said that way, you could spend more time with family rather than only have a few minutes with all of us."

I take a deep breath. Okay. Okay. What should I say? "I really love you guys."

"We love you too, son," Father says, still on his knees. I've never seen him look so… broken. "Redmond, always remember. We love you so much."

"Don't say goodbye, okay? Whatever you do, don't say goodbye to me?" I say, suddenly afraid. My father… he's preparing for my death. I can't handle that. I can't hear him say goodbye. I can't let myself start thinking like that.

He nods and opens his mouth to say something else, but the Peacekeeper at the door interrupts. "Your time is up."

My parents wrap me in another embrace, and I squeeze my eyes shut. Maybe I'll wake up at home if I think hard enough…

No. My parents release me, and I see the Peacekeeper has stepped forward to make them leave.

"I love you, Redmond," my mother says on the way out, and I can see the way she's clenching her jaw. Holding herself together.

Timothy hurries into the room as they exit. I'm relieved to see he's not crying too. I don't know how much more I can handle.

"Please don't say goodb-"

"I'm not going to. Redmond, listen to me. Most thirteen year olds would never have a chance in the Games, but you're different. Listen. Do you understand?"

"I- what?" I've never seen my older brother this intense before.

"You're not like the other kids that end up in the Games. You could actually win. All the other tributes will underestimate you because you're little. They won't pay you any mind at first, and that's your advantage. You can sneak under the radar, right?"

"Okay, yes-"

"You're smart," Timothy powers on, and I try to keep up with his thoughts. "You're observant, I know that. You've helped me out plenty of times. Pay attention, just like you do with me, okay?"

I nod. "Thank you."

My brother smiles grimly. "Redmond, to be completely honest, you have a better shot of winning right now than I would have as an eighteen-year-old. Mom and Dad are right, I can be a lazy bum. You're better than that. You deserve to come home. I love you, okay?"

"I love you too."

I sure hope he's right.

And there we have it, all 16 of the POV tributes!

How do Shelby, Andros, Loren, Valerie, and Redmond compare to the tributes from the previous two chapters?

Just from these first POVs, who would you choose as Victor?

Which filler tribute are you most excited to meet?

We're headed to the Capitol! I wanted to use the last POV in this chapter to segue into more of the post-Reaping world, so Redmond was featured in the goodbyes. Next chapter is train rides and chariots, and then we'll be on to training. The how-to-guide sections will start to feature a bit more as we move onward. I'll start to put info about where those bits are in the first A/N in each chapter. Expect a largely satirical interview chapter!

Catch y'all later, drop a review!