Welcome to District One! The first of twelve Reapings is here. I'm going to try to post these every Friday, but they may come sooner or later depending on my schedule each week.

Hope everyone is doing well! There are still FOUR tribute slots open! Currently, the D2F, D4F, and both D8 slots are open. So there are options for Careers and outer district tributes. If you want to submit to the D8 slots, please consider submitting ages other than 18 and 15, as these are the majority of the ages I've received. I don't' have a single 16 year old! I don't want to be nitpicky; I just want to let people know what's going on since I haven't made the tribute list public yet. (If you're submitting to the D2F or D4F though, you should know that I do prefer 18 year old Careers).

There's also a website for this story! It includes info on the tributes and mentors. It will be rolled out incrementally, so today we posted he info for D1. It's not much, but you can see the faceclaims for the tributes! The link is on my profile.

That's all for the PSA. I hope you enjoy the chapter!

Special thanks to my beta reader, website creator, and collaborate Oldflowers! More on that in the A/N after the chapter.

Magic Hollyfield (18)- D1M

"Cosmos has continued to live his life in service of his values, honesty, integrity, and loyalty, making sure that Panem will never forget the victor of the 40th Hunger Games."

I snap the book shut with flourish and stand, giving a bow to my attentive audience. A few people clap and a woman sitting on a couch near me even cheers. The home is dimly lit by the sunlight streaming in through the windows, betraying the setting sun. We'll need to turn on the lamps soon to give the patients some light.

"A great book, Magic. You always choose the best ones," a woman with deep smile lines and white hair says.

I beam and hand her the book I was reading.

"Make sure to keep reading while I'm gone, Sonja."

"Where are you going?" a man in the back pipes up, peering at me from his wheelchair.

"I'm volunteering tomorrow, remember?" I say patiently. Several of the elders here have dementia or Alzheimers, so I'm used to having to repeat myself. I just hope Mama will be able to keep them from panicking without me.

"Oh, right…"

"You know, I remember when Cosmos Brieson won the Hunger Games," Gertrude interrupts, one gnarled hand reaching for her cane to stand up. I help her get to her feet while I listen. "Nobody had ever thought we could make a stand against District Two, but he showed them all differently."

"That he did," I agree. Cosmos wasn't our first victor by any means, but he was our first trained victor. The first Career from One to ever enter the Games and come out the other side. He gave District Two a run for their money and showed all of Panem that hard work and determination could make a victor no matter their origin.

Alfred snorts from the back of the room. "I'll raise you one better, Gertrude. I remember the very first Hunger Games, back when I was only—" he holds up six fingers, looking at me pointedly.

Gertrude chuckles a bit. "You're not alone in that, Alfie. I remember too."

I'm always fascinated by the fact that several of the people here remember a world without the Hunger Games. A world torn apart by war, insurgence, starvation, and death, and brought together by the love of sport.

After I say my goodbyes to all of the patients, I stop by Mama's office to kiss her goodbye. Not an official goodbye like the others though; I'll be seeing her again tonight. Mama's office is on the second floor of the huge old building. The second floor is unbearably hot during the summer, given that the building is one of the oldest in One, predating the Dark Days.

Mama had to work hard to become the director of this nursing home. It's one of the nicer ones in the district, and she runs it so well that she's been offered higher positions in medical centers around One, but she always refuses. Helping people here is just more important. One may be one of the wealthier districts, but not everyone has the means to support their elderly relatives. We help them out and make sure they get all the medical attention they need as well as a supportive community.

When I open the door to the office, Mama is sitting in her chair, head swallowed by her massive afro. She doesn't turn when the door opens, but as I approach with a broad smile, she must see me in the reflection of her computer screen. She turns and returns the smile.

"Storytime is finished?"

"Gertrude doesn't like it when you call it storytime," I remind her. "They're not kids."

"Alright, alright."

"I'll see you tonight," I say, leaning over to kiss her on the cheek.

"Don't stay out too late." Her stern tone of voice would scare anyone else, but I know that it's just her way of showing love.

"Of course not," I chirp, bouncing on my heels. "I need to get my beauty sleep for the cameras tomorrow."

Mama nods, looking torn between seriousness and exasperation at my playfulness. It's a look I know well. "Don't get too drunk either."

I gasp, eyes widening in shock. "I would never! I've never had a sip of alcohol!"

Mama rolls her eyes, but I can see that same smile pulling at the corners of her lips. "Get on, then. I have work to do."

I wave as I leave, bounding down the stairs and back into the air conditioning. I lean into the common area to yell, "Don't forget about me!" to the residents. As their answers reach my ears, a resounding "Never!" and "We won't!", I just know that this will be a moment I will remember for the rest of my life.

…

"Surprise!"

"Holy hell," I laugh. Yahya's arm wraps around my shoulder as the rest of the team surrounds me with infectious grins on their faces. "How did you have time for this?"
"There's always time for our favorite captain." Yahya winks. It looks more like a regular blink since he only has one eye, but it's the thought that counts.

Everyone forms a huddle around me, all slamming their hands on my back just like we do after winning a match. I feel myself laughing uncontrollably, so glad to be here and to have such a supportive team.

"You guys are the best," I say with a grin.

"One of us is surely the best, right?" one of the most beautiful voices in the world asks languidly.

I turn around just as the group of people parts like the sea to reveal Nephrite and Iris holding a cake that reads, 'Good luck, Magic!' Nephrite is smirking with an eyebrow raised, holding the cake out to me.

Iris shoves his shoulder with hers, nearly causing the cake to topple to the ground. "That would be me," she declares with that confidence that I've always loved.

Nephrite's blue eyes turn from her to me inquisitively.

"You're both the best." I say emphatically. "Now set this cake down before we ruin my uncle's clean carpet."

The rest of the night goes by in a blur, like time always does when I'm with my friends and my partners. I love the old folks' home, and I wouldn't trade my time working there for the world, but I love this even more. Just spending time with my people.

"So be honest, did you know about the party or not?" Nephrite asks, limply laying on my lap as I sit on the couch, his head hanging over the side.

"He didn't!" Iris quickly says, glancing over to where Yahya is chatting with one of the girls, obviously trying to make a move.

I put a hand on her shoulder and raise an eyebrow. "Relax. Yahya threw this party more for himself. He's not going to care that you told me about the surprise."

Nephrite sits up with a gasp, making me grunt as his butt digs into my crotch. "You told him?!" he says indignantly.

Iris sighs, then simply shrugs. "That's why I'm the best."

I have enough alcohol in my system that I decide to let the two of them battle it out for my own amusement while I sip on my drink. It's a mojito. Or maybe it's tequila. I'm not sure at this point.

My attention is drawn to the sound of the front door creaking open, and I sigh heavily when I see who's on the other side.

"Oh, uh… hey, Taverly," Yahya says, hurrying to intercept her at the door. "What, uh — what are you doing here?"

"I heard there was a party." Taverly examines the room with her nose in the air, just like she does with everything. What she sees can't be up to her rich girl standards. Cups strewn everywhere, loud music booming through the speakers that Iris lugged here from her dance studio, people sitting on the floor munching on chips and candy.

"Well — it's more of a water polo thing," Yahya says. I have to admire his determination, but he has to know that nothing will stop Taverly if she wants to come in. And I have a feeling I know who she's here to speak to.

"I just want to say goodbye to Magic. I probably won't get to see him tomorrow."

"Well, he's uh—"

"It's alright, Yahya!" I call, motioning for him to let her in. Iris and Nephrite, who have been silent during this exchange, both immediately get up and walk over to the drink table. I don't blame them.

"Thank you." Taverly pushes past Yahya and walks through the living room to take Iris' seat beside me on the couch. Her skin is so pale that up this close, I can see the blue veins underneath her eyes.

"Hit me," I say. I put both my arms on the back of the couch, making myself comfortable.

Taverly, in contrast, sits prim and stiff. "I just wanted to give you my congratulations. You've always been the strongest at the Academy. Of course, your uncle sees to that. All the one-on-one training he must give you! Anyway, that's all I wanted to say. Oh, by the way, now that you'll be in the Hunger Games and all, your uncle will have some free time in his training schedule right? Do you think he could take me on for some sessions?"

She says all of this in one breath, almost like a monologue she was nervous to deliver.

I hum thoughtfully. "I think Uncle Orion will be busy watching me on TV."

"Of course! But before you actually enter the arena, I just thought… there's a few days there with nothing happening. Of course you'll be doing a lot! Training and everything in the Capitol. But there won't be much for us to watch—"

"I'll ask about it," I cut her off. "And thanks for the congrats."

I reach out to shake her hand, which she immediately grabs. A fleeting smile crosses her face, but she seems to understand that this is her cue to leave. As she gets up with a flourish and leaves without a word to anyone else, I sigh. It's always the same with Taverly, but it's not just her. Almost all the trainees at the Academy are either jealous that my uncle is such a famous trainer, or they despise me, thinking that I was only chosen as a volunteer because of it. While I can't deny that having Orion help me develop as a Career over the years has helped my chances, it's not the only reason. I'm the most dedicated to the sport out of all the trainees, and that's clear to see. My hard work alone gave me that volunteer spot.

"Thank Snow she's gone," Iris says, returning to the couch lay on top of me before Nephrite can. Her long black hair spills over my legs, still dyed blue at the ends just like the day I met her.

"I don't know how you can be so polite with her after all these years," Nephrite says with a roll of his eyes, collapsing beside us.

"C'mon, there's no reason not to be polite."

"Other than the fact that she constantly tries to use you to get next year's volunteer spot."

"She's just a nuisance. After next year, she won't be a problem anymore."

"Yeah, cuz if she gets chosen, she won't be making it out," Iris says, sounding way too pleased at the thought.

I nudge her with my knee. "C'mon, don't say that." Even though it's the truth, it's not exactly pleasant to talk about.

"Sorry."

Silence falls over the three of us, the mood suddenly tense. We sit and listen to the party happening around us, watching people eat cake and laugh together, sharing stories about the water polo championships we've won and all the good times we've had. Iris and Nephrite don't want to mention the obvious fact that hangs over us like a curse: I could also not make it back in one piece.

"At least Lia hasn't shown up," Nephrite pipes up, trying to break the silence.

"She would never," Iris perks up, jumping at the opportunity to talk about something else. "She's too weird."

"She's just… focused," I say. Although my district partner in the upcoming Games can be boring, I wouldn't say that she doesn't deserve her spot.

"She's more than focused and weird," Nephrite complains. "You don't think it's fucked up what she did?"

"She didn't do anything on purpose…"

I was there the day Lia Geddes convinced her younger brother, also a trainee at the Academy, to practice with real swords. We were fifteen at the time and he was only thirteen. He was too young to be doing something like that, but the Geddes family always pushed themselves. Servilla, her mother, is one of the toughest trainers at the Academy. If anything, what happened was Servilla's fault for being too tough on her children. It was inevitable.

"I can't even imagine her at a party like this," Iris says.

"She's probably still at the Training Center right now," Nephrite agrees.

I sigh while rolling my eyes, channeling my inner Passion Mavros, who we all watched last year with mixed reactions of derision and admiration. "Let's stop talking about her and focus on me, please? This is my goodbye party after all."

They both erupt into laughter, immediately understanding the reference, and I grin to myself.

Lia Geddes (18)- D1F

I spin around to land one last solid kick to the dummy's abdomen, sending it flying off its podium and into the wall a few feet away. I bend over and hold my knees with my hands, breathing heavily. Although I'm staring at the floor, the only thing that fills my vision is my foot flying through the air, landing kick after kick after kick. I've been spinning around so many times that I feel almost dizzy.

"Stand with your arms over your head. The oxygen will reach your lungs faster."

I glance up at the viewing deck where my mother is sitting, half-shrouded in darkness. I can still sense her disapproving scowl, however, so I immediately straighten out and place my hands on the crown of my head.

I close my eyes as she walks down the staircase to the main training floor. I've heard her footsteps on those stairs so many times, I can count the number of steps it takes for her to arrive.

Twenty-one, twenty-two, twenty-three…

"What will you do if someone brings a weapon to the Reaping?" she asks as she descends, her voice echoing throughout the dark Academy. No one is ever here this late. Usually not even us — only when there's a big exam coming up. Or the Reaping itself.

"Then I'll show the Capitol that I can take on an armed opponent with only my fists," I respond, my eyes still closed.

Servilla harrumphs. "Still a better idea to bring something along. I'll give you a knife to keep up your sleeve."

My eyes peek open at the mention of edged weapons, but I don't make a sound. It doesn't matter what occasion arises at the Reaping; I won't need a weapon and I won't use one. Especially not one that reminds me of…

'Lia! Help! LIA!'

I wince.

It doesn't help to think about that right now.

"We need to be prepared for anything. There could be another team that plans on stealing the Reaping just like last year."

Last year's Reaping was an all-around disaster for District One. Passion Mavros and Callum Koche pulled off something that hadn't been done in decades, at least not here. The two of them had plotted to volunteer before the chosen volunteers had a chance, and District One suffered for it. Not to mention that the trainees who were actually meant to volunteer didn't have another chance. They had trained their whole lives for nothing.

Everyone at the Academy has been on edge, wondering if something similar will happen this year. The Head Trainer, Orion Hollyfield, even gave a speech (some would call it a warning) about what would happen if someone volunteered out of turn. He urged anyone who heard about any such plans to report them to the trainers immediately.

I haven't heard anything about trainees planning on stealing the glory for themselves, but it's not out of the realm of possibility. If another girl tries to steal my spot, I won't go down without a fight. We'll duel it out just like the Careers used to do before the Academy was well-established. Whoever makes it to that microphone first is the winner.

"That should be enough for tonight," Servilla says after some thought.

I'm a bit surprised. I assumed we would be here for the better part of the night, preparing for every scenario. I turn to grab the dummy and set it back into place, but my mother grabs my arm before I can move. I glance over at her, my stomach dropping at the hard look on her face. That familiar expression. Not just stern or calloused or even disappointed, but actually hateful.

"Remember, Lia. You owe your brother this. Desmond deserves at least this."

The sound of his name cuts through my heart just like the sword that cut his throat. I can still see him lying in my arms, gurgling as blood pours from his body. Your fault, your fault, your fault.

"I know."

…

I don't sleep. I knew that I wouldn't be able to, and Servilla probably knew it too. But she's sequestered in her bedroom with dad, keeping the two of us apart. I wish I could ask him for advice on what to say during the Reaping, but now it's too late.

Instead of laying awake all night in my bed, I creep downstairs past my parents' bedroom, past Desmond's bedroom kept shut and untouched, past Dad's office where he keeps his jewelry collections waiting to be sold to the highest bidder in the Capitol. I grab a granola bar from the kitchen to quell my rumbling stomach, then set out on a run. Using my body has always been the best answer to any stress. It won't let me down now.

I run laps around the neighborhood until I'm too exhausted to go on, but instead of going back home, I sit on the curb, staring down the empty street. Sweat sticks to my clothes and cools my skin. Stray hairs float in front of my eyes, loose from my ponytails. It's a moonless night, making it darker than usual. Only the flickering streetlights and distant stars give me any light.

'Lia!'

"Lia? Lia!"

I turn to see Dio's window open on the second floor of his house, his head sticking out as he calls to me in a false-whisper. I just stare at him in return. Most people don't know what to make of my expressionless looks, but Dio knows me better than perhaps anyone.

He scrambles out of his window and onto the roof, making the smallest of smiles appear on my face before it disappears. Dio scales the rest of the house and then runs towards me across his yard. He's in his pajamas, brown hair askew, a worried look on his face. He's much less put together than he likes to be. If anyone other than me saw him right now, he would freak out.

"What are you doing here, looking for a late-night booty call?" Dio asks sarcastically as he sits beside me on the curb.

I grunt noncommittally, and he chuckles, gazing up at the sky. "Let me guess, training didn't go the best?"
"Training is fine."

I know I don't have to say much with Dio. He always ends up doing most of the talking, and he always understands what I mean.

We sit in silence for a few more minutes, or perhaps longer. Time stretches out like this when I have no one to answer to, no training to complete, no memories nagging at me. Just me, my best friend, and the darkness of night.

"Nervous for the ceremony?"

I don't respond, but I give him a look. He laughs a bit. "Of course not. How could Lia Geddes ever be nervous for anything? Anyway, I'm sure Hollyfield will do enough talking for both of you, so you'll have nothing to worry about."

He's right. Magic Hollyfield, my partner in the Games, will hopefully take the spotlight off of me. Until we get into the arena, that is. Then I can show the Capitol where I shine. Everyone in the Capitol will be focused on Magic and his relation to THE Orion Hollyfield, the famed best friend of Augustus Braun.

"Everyone will think he's the new Cavalier Career," I say abruptly.

Dio sighs. "Probably. But he isn't. He's just a spoiled rich kid."

"He's not," I say sharply, giving Dio another look. That's enough for him to stop talking and continue gazing up at the stars. Magic may be rich and probably receives special training from Augustus Braun himself, but that alone doesn't make a polished Career. No one is chosen as a volunteer without hard work and determination. I know that more than anyone else. Everyone assumes that my mother convinced the rest of the trainers to choose me this year, but that couldn't be further from the truth. I'm actually under more scrutiny than the other trainees, and my mother always graded me more stringently during exams. Magic and I have always faced the same challenges in the Academy, and I know how hard he's worked to get where to he's at.

And I know that he's likely to be among my biggest competition.

"You should get some sleep," Dio finally says. "We can't sit on this curb forever."

I stand without a word, still staring up at the sky. A street light flickers above us as Dio follows suit. I wish it could always be like this. Just the two of us, without all the needless noise and nonsense that usually pervades District One.

Dio claps me on the back and we share a look, and I can tell by his expression that he understands what I'm thinking. Then we nod to each other and go our separate ways.

…

My dress is a mute brown, a similar color to my hair, which is straightened and flows down my back like silk. I'm dressed extremely simply compared to the rest of the girls here at the Square, but in a way, it makes me stand out more. I don't react as a Peacekeeper pricks my finger and smears my blood in the index of One residents. The Square is already filling up even though the Reaping doesn't begin for another hour or so. I'm only here to scope out possible threats as they arrive. I immediately see a group of my fellow trainees in the 18-year old section, giggling in their pink dresses and blonde curls.

When the Peacekeeper lets me into the Square, I find a spot to stand alone near the middle aisle, keeping an eye on everyone else as they flow in. The knife that my mother gave me weighs heavy in my sleeve. It reminds of the final two girls last year, who each had the same weapon in the same disguised place. If I pull it out to defend my spot as a victor, everyone will immediately think of Leto and the victory she earned by the skin of her teeth. There's no way I will use it.

If someone tries to steal my spot on that stage, they'll know the fury of my bare fists.

As people slowly pour into the Square, dressed in their best and excited for the Reaping, I glance up at the stage and realize that the victors are starting to arrive as well. There are so many that they barely fit in their respective gender corrals. The Rosewood siblings look nearly identical with their blonde hair and green eyes. If Cashmere cut her hair short and wore a suit instead of a dress, it would be hard to tell them apart. The Cavalier Career, Augustus Braun, stands straighter than the rest, gazing out over the sea of children. I wonder if he's looking for Magic, his best friend's nephew, and this year, his mentee. Like I told Dio, everyone will see Magic as the new Augustus. They'll be so beside themselves that they'll underestimate me, which is perfectly fine by me.

The rest of the victors seem somewhat bored, including my own mentor, Lavish. Her blonde hair is done in elaborate curls, her silver jewelry glinting under the bright lights. Cosmos is smiling broadly at the crowd, nodding to anyone who shouts his name. Finally, the escort comes out of the Justice Building and the crowd dies down. As the propaganda video starts, I take an opportunity to sweep my eyes over the crowd, singling out potential threats. Everyone seems entirely focused on the video or completely bored. Nobody seems anxious or on edge. I catch Dio's eye in the boys' section and he gives me an exaggerated wave.

Perhaps this actually will go as smoothly as it should.

"Welcome, welcome, everyone!" the escort booms into the mic. I don't bother retaining the names of such people, and I find myself zoning out as he continues with his speech about how happy he is to be here. I wish we could just get this over with.

"Now, now, ladies first!"

I stand up straighter and stare at the bowl of slips, hoping that it isn't mine. The odds are incredibly slim, but still it has happened. Tiger from two years ago was the assigned volunteer, and he ended up being Reaped. Of course, back then, people respected the Academy's decision. Anything could happen now.

"Luxie Golden!"

The fourteen year old who is Reaped seems almost pleased, strutting up to the stage with a broad grin, clearly loving the cameras' attention.

"Now, if there's anyone who would like to volunt—"

"I volunteer!"
"I volunt—"
"No, I volunteer!"
At least half a dozen girls—not all of them eighteen—scramble up toward the stage. I get flashbacks to watching old Reapings, back when the Academy was still new.

Still, I leave my knife in my sleeve as I sprint toward the stage. One girl reaches the stairs first, but with a flying kick, she's sent to the ground with a grunt.

I run up the stairs to the microphone and am met with another girl, this one familiar. It's Taverly, the girl who's constantly hanging around Magic and trying to win his favor.

A kitchen knife in hand, Taverly reaches for the mic with the other. I reach out to grab it instead and she slashes at me, a move which I easily duck. Then my well-timed karate chop to her stomach sends her toppling off the stage and onto the ground with an extremely loud thud.

Silence fills the Square. Some sweat beads on my brow from the fight. I glance around the stage to see the escort cowering behind Gloss, who watches me with something between incredulity and fascination. Cosmos is outright laughing, the sound echoing off the stone of the Justice Building.

I step forward to grab the microphone, clearing my throat into it before saying, "My name is Lia Geddes. I volunteer to represent District One."

There's another beat of silence. Then the Square erupts into applause, the sound of cheering and screaming assaulting my ears from every angle. The escort claps his hand on my shoulder, and I turn to see him smiling at me, his blue hair and extremely pale skin reminding me of a clown. I realize I'm still clutching the mic, so I reluctantly drop it and nod once to the crowd, then step back so the escort can continue the ceremony.

The escort gulps loudly into the mic before saying, "Well, that was quite the spectacle! We'll see if our male tribute can beat that, shall we?"
So much for flying under the radar.

Magic Hollyfield (18)- D1M

The escort trots over to the boys' bowl, scoops up a name, and reads it quickly. "Bauble Trillium!" Then he scurries over the victors again as if to take shelter.

There are a few murmurs in the crowd; a few boys in the eighteen year old section who glance at each other shiftily. I grin to myself, realizing that I won't have to fight my way over to the mic. Not that it would be a problem; I would win a fight with any of the other trainees just like I did at the final exam. But this is definitely easier.

"I volunteer!" I call out.

A few kids turn to look at me, most in awe but a few with jealousy. I push past them and feel Yayha's hand patting my shoulder. I turn to give him a smooth smile before continuing forward to the aisle. The crowd parts to let me through and I wave at Iris as I pass the girls' section. She waves back with a cute grin.

I knew that the Reaping wouldn't be a problem, despite Uncle Orion constantly telling me I should be prepared for anything. All the boys at the Academy know that I'm the best fighter, and everyone knows who my uncle is. No one would dare try to take his nephew's spot.

I step up to Taverly, who lays prone on the ground underneath the stage. Her blue eyes are open and she's breathing shakily, staring up at the cloudless sky. One of her legs is twisted at an unnatural angle. No one dares to help her until the Reaping is over. I glance down at her face, trying not to appear too concerned in front of the cameras. I meet her eyes and try to convey my sympathy, but I'm not sure if she understands. As I leave her twitching body behind, I try not to think about how many times I'll have to do this in the future.

I take a deep breath, adjust my blue suit jacket, and step onto the stage. Nephrite always tells me I look good in blue. I hope Panem will think the same.
I leisurely take the microphone from the escort, who has returned to the center of the stage after realizing there won't be another battle for the volunteer spot.

"What's going on, District One? I'm Magic Hollyfield, and I'm your new victor!"

The applause is sparse at first, but then picks up volume when the realization hits. Hollyfield. The name is a curse that's followed me during my entire career at the Academy. Being the nephew of the Head Trainer is bad, but that uncle being publicly recognized as the best friend of Augustus Braun is worse.

I can sense Augustus shifting in place over in the victors' section, but I purposefully ignore him. I've never spoken to him before, nor him to me. I know as much as I need to know about him from Uncle Orion.

"Hollyfield?" the escort questions, seeming much more interested now. "As in, Orion Hollyfield, the best friend of Augustus Braun?"

"The very one," I say with a sigh. "But rest assured, I plan on making a name for myself."

"I'm sure you do!" The escort grins. "Everyone, let's give Mr. Magic Hollyfield another round of applause!"

The crowd obeys, and I feel my smile slipping. I know they're only excited to see me because of my association with Augustus.

I'll show them why the Hollyfield name deserves to stand on its own.

"Now, kids, shake hands!"

I turn to Lia, who still sports the same blank, slightly angry look she always does. I reach out to grasp her hand and clasp it with my other. "Great show, by the way," I say. And I mean it.

…

My mother, myself, and my sister, Jocasta, live in a three-bedroom loft in the center of One. It hasn't always been that way. Back when I was younger, the apartment we lived in had spotty electricity and air conditioning, and the hot water hardly ever worked. Still, Mama never missed a chance to teach us about responsibility. We still had to do our chores in the dark if the lights went out, and we always cleaned up our own messes, did our homework, and made our beds. It was worse in the winter. The heating barely worked, and Mama and Uncle Orion had to do the best they could to keep Jocasta and I from getting frostbite.

That was when the man would show up outside the door carrying various packages. Some had warm clothes, and others had blankets, heating pads, and even food on occasion. Whenever he came by, I would hide behind Uncle Orion's leg while they spoke. He was tall, muscular, and had blonde hair and blue eyes like all the rich kids at school. The man never came inside the house. For a long time, I didn't know his name.

Then that man won the Hunger Games. Augustus Braun. Not long after, he and Uncle Orion had a huge argument. I remember hiding in the bathroom to eavesdrop, but I still couldn't hear much. Something about a girl, a lie, and not being friends anymore. He didn't come back after that.

I'm still musing about the past when the door creaks open.

Jocasta's head pops in first, her afro framing her head like a halo. She runs over to me with a huge smile and envelops me in a hug.

"This is definitely going to be in my screenplay," she says immediately as she pulls back. "That was the best Reaping I've ever seen! Lia was great, but you owned that stage."

"Thanks, sis," I say with a knowing smile. Jocasta has been writing a screenplay based on our lives for the past couple of years. It's her masterpiece that she hopes to sell to a Capitolite production company one day. Being the sister of a victor will definitely help in that goal.

"I just hope I'll be able to make it seem realistic."

"Of course you'll be able to," I say encouragingly.

She smiles brightly, stepping back so Uncle Orion can hug me instead. "Thanks, Magic," she says.

"You really made your Mama and I proud," Orion says.

"I still haven't won the damn thing."

"You will," he says firmly, clasping a hand on my shoulder. I recognize the look in his eyes. I've seen it only a few times in my life: once when I had my first ever exam at the Academy at age 12, and again when he told us the truth about Augustus Braun.

I find myself nodding along with him. "I will."

Jocasta nervously reaches for my hand. "Magic, promise to do your best, okay? I, uh—" she laughs nervously. "I don't want your story to end here."

"Of course it won't," I assure her, grabbing her hand with both of mine. "I'll see you again in a few weeks. Make sure to take notes of everything that happens while I'm gone, okay? This is going to be a banger part of your screenplay."

She laughs.

After my family leaves, I'm left alone with my thoughts again, but for once I don't mind it. I'm going to be surrounded by Capitolites for the next few days, and after that, I'll be stuck with my allies for who knows how long. I can welcome some moments of solitude.

Then the door opens again, and Iris and Nephrite pile inside, Iris graceful as always and Nephrite sighing in exasperation as she falls into my arms. "I'm going to miss you, Magic.," says Iris.

"Don't act like that. You'll still have Nephrite while I'm gone! I'm the one who's going to be all alone."

I mean it as a joke, but the words make Iris' face fall, and when I look up at Nephrite, even he looks a bit heartbroken. It's as if they think they're never going to see me again. The possibility is there, but I've never seriously considered it. I didn't think they would either.

"C'mon guys," I say, more gently this time. "I'll be back soon. Keep up with your studies while I'm gone, alright? Don't start slacking."

Nephrite rolls his eyes, leaning down to give me a kiss. "As if."

"The studio has TVs, so I'll be watching in between routines," Iris says, sounding anxious. "Luckily my monthly assessment has been pushed back until the Games are over."

"Don't ever stop working toward your dreams," I tell them, trying to channel Uncle Orion's serious face. "Just like me."

They both nod, then Iris leans up to give me a kiss as well. She's been working to become a Capitol ballerina for as long as I've been in the Academy. Dancing is one of the only ways other than entering the Games to leave District One. That and becoming a Gamemaker, which is what Nephrite has been studying in school for years. They're both so perfect, so sweet, so thoughtful — everything I've ever wanted in a relationship. If I never saw them again, it would be devastating.

"Here, don't forget this," Nephrite says, pulling something out of his pocket. I laugh incredulously. I had forgotten it. It's the tiny platinum medal that my water polo team won five years ago. It's the first award I've ever won. I place the medal around my neck and look up at the two of them.

There's a knock at the door, and we all glance over. "I guess this is goodbye."

"But not forever," Iris reminds me.

"Not forever. I promise you."

Lia Geddes (18)-D1F

I wish that my mother would stay at home, or at least that she would visit me separately from Dad. Instead, they come together, Servilla standing in the corner while Dad embraces me and gives me a kiss on the cheek.

"That was amazing, Lia," Dad says with a sweet smile, sitting beside me on the plush couch. "Remember to keep up that energy in the Capitol. You may not have to fight people with your fists, but you still can intimidate them with your words."

"I don't use that many words."

Dad chuckles. "I know. You don't need to use a ton to make people scared of you."

Servilla sighs from behind him. "We have more important things to talk about, Marshall." She walks over with her arms crossed and stands in front of me. Her foot taps impatiently on the floor. "You didn't use the knife."

"No," I say simply.

She scoffs. "You're going to get yourself killed if you don't listen to my advice, Lia. You could have gotten a kill already if you had just stabbed her! She was wide open."

I remain silent.

"Servilla," Dad tries to interrupt, but she only shushes him, her brow furrowed. "You need to get a good head on your shoulders, Lia. I won't be there to help you in the arena."

I still don't say a word, but I think to myself that figuring things out in the arena might be easier without my mother breathing down my neck. If there's anyone whose advice I'll miss, it's dad's. He's always been the one to give me guidance when I don't know what to do.

Besides, I know the real reason Servilla doesn't trust me. It has nothing to do with my fighting or my training. It has everything to do with my brother.

"Remember why you're here," she hisses at me. Then she walks right out of the room, her heels clicking on the wooden floor.

Dad turns to me, sorrow evident in his eyes. "I don't blame you, Lia," he says softly. "I love you."

He embraces me again, and I slowly wrap my arms around him in return. The well of grief deep in my heart almost overflows, but I keep it locked in tight like I always do.

"Des would be proud of you."

We stay like that until the Peacekeepers come to take him away. As the door closes, I know it may be the last time I will ever see him.

Dio's visit is more upbeat. He tells me not to worry about him while I'm gone, and to only focus on winning. As if Dio ever needs anybody worrying about him.

"That reminds me," he says after going on about how he can't wait to see my parade outfit, "what are you bringing into the arena with you? Because I thought–"
"Nothing," I say.

He just shrugs. "Suit yourself. I thought maybe you'd like a photo or something."

"I'll remember what you look like."

He seems a bit offended at the thought, but he'll get over it. What I don't tell him is that the only thing I need in the arena is my memories. One in particular: Desmond bleeding to death in my arms. The guilt weighing me down. The knowledge that because of me, my little brother will never laugh, or spend time with his friends, or sit on a curb under a moonless sky ever again. It's the only thing that's pushed me forward these past five years.

"Come back, Lia!" Dio yells through the door once he's taken away.

Then I'm mercifully alone again, just for a few minutes before Peacekeepers come to escort me out of the Justice Building. We meet up with Magic and the escort outside, where we're driven to the train station. Magic is as jovial as ever, smiling and waving at the cameras that follow the car. Then once we're out of sight, he turns to me with a warm smile.

"You put on a great performance, you know."

"You already told me."

"Well, I liked it so much I'm telling you again."

I turn to give him an appraising look, something that most people tend to think is a glare, but he meets my gaze head on.

"Thank you."

There we go!

Thanks to Oldflowers, my wonderful beta, for submitting Magic. And of course JayNautics for submitting Lia! They're both great and layered Career tributes and I can't wait to write more of them. But before we get to that, we have eleven more districts to visit.

Unlike my previous stories, the Reapings will not be chronological. Part of the reason for this is because I don't have the tribute list finalized, but also just to keep things interesting. Which district do you predict we'll visit next? (Spoiler alert: It's not District Two).

Also- as I alluded to in the above A/N, my beta Oldflowers and I are starting a collaborative story set in this SYOT verse. It will include extra scenes from the POVs of the victors and mentors. Some chapters will be written by her, others by me. Oldflowers has already contributed so much to the worldbuilding and characterization of the canon victors in this verse, such as Gloss, Augustus, Cashmere, and more. The story is not published yet, bu tit will be probably by the time the next Reaping comes out. The story will be called Much Ado!

If you already want to read more from Oldflowers, I encourage everyone to read her story Fantasy. This story was the jump-off point for Much Ado and also my characterization of Gloss, Augustus, and more characters in my verse. Fantasy in canon in my verse, and it's a great piece of writing so I highly recommend everyone check it out. And tell her in a review to finish it! (Keep in mind that Fantasy is rated 18+).

I'll see you in the next one, guys. Have a great week~