Disclaimer: I don't own Hunger Games.

Song Suggestion: Ratatat—Gettysburg

Update: I changed the summary. I like this one better. It is much shorter.

A Special Thank You: Thank you so much for all your prayers. The surgery went okay. They had to shock my heart twice during the procedure because it started going crazy, which is sort of surreal, and I had a slight reaction to the anesthesia. But other than that, everything went smoothly. They aren't sure if they fixed my heart or not, so I might have to get the procedure done a second time, which is a little discouraging. Your reviews made my bed rest bearable.

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In the Lion's Den

A Few Hours Later

"Take your napkin and flick it like this."

A young lady demonstrated. She must have been in her mid-twenties with dark, midnight hair and coal close-set eyes. When she talked her mouth opened too wide for her face, making it seem fuller than the rest of her body. She wasn't ugly; there was just something off about her appearance. Prim couldn't help but stare to figure out what was wrong. After thirty minutes, she discovered it was her skin. It was perfect, and not in the natural way. It glowed under the lights with the perfect amount of tan and sheen with zero blemishes or scars—an obvious gift from the capitol.

The lady came and stood by Coral to watch her work.

"Not quite dear. Try it again. A little more like this."

She glanced up to watch Prim next with a toxic grimace.

"Absolute awful form, Ms. Everdeen. It thought after that dining performance I would never see anything worse, but I have just been proved wrong."

Prim gritted her teeth. She flicked her napkin again, knowing she did it perfect. The woman just hated her for some unknown reason. Well, maybe not too unknown. She certainly didn't try to hide anything.

A few hours before, Cato had dropped her off with a little slap to the bottom.

"Go on, little bird. Here's your class. I'll pick you up later."

"Is this the one you talked to me about?" The teacher had asked, looking me up and down as if I was some bug that needed to be squished.

Cato winked at me, "The very one."

"I see what you're talking about," she looked me up and down, "she needs a lot of work to be ready for her position."

Prim refused to be offended by such an obvious tart. She was in such a huff, she even ignored the implications of what was being said.

When the woman looked at Cato, she gave a flirty smile, leaning in to whisper something Prim didn't hear and didn't care to.

"Are you sure?" Cato asked, rubbing a hand up her arm, "Is there any other way you'd like me to pay you?"

The woman blushed and giggled, but didn't answer.

"Remember," Cato smirked, "absolute secrecy. We don't want any loose lips." His tone was much more serious.

Gag me, Prim thought, disgusted with both their behaviors. Is this how men and women normally interacted in district 2, or was it only Cato?

Her discomfort didn't end when Cato left.

"Hello, what's your name?" The lady leaned over towards Coral, holding out her hand to shake it.

Prim's swelled with pride when Coral buried her head into her legs and refused to look at or answer the woman. Good girl, she thought.

The woman couldn't hold back a frown and sneered at Prim, retracting her hand.

"Right, follow me."

They entered a room with ten or so little girls all in dresses. The chalkboard had the title MANNERS CLASS for LITTLE LADIES scrawled across in large letters. Prim automatically felt large and out of place, something the woman capitalized on.

"With your, um, size," the woman gave her a look of pure loathing, "You should sit in the back."

Prim glanced at her name tag. It read Mrs. Manniola. So she was married! With how she was acting towards Cato… Prim shook her head and decided she already didn't like the woman.

Prim did what she said and sat down.

Three hours later and she wanted to beat her head against the wall. They had already gone over dining skills, proper leg placement, how to giggle, and now, napkin flicking.

What was Cato trying to teach her? She always enjoyed school and excelled at whatever her old teachers set before her. But this was ridiculous. Flicking a napkin? What use would she ever find for the skill?

Cato obviously found some worth in what she was teaching her or else he wouldn't be bothering. She just had to figure out what.

Mrs. Manniola caught on to her derision. About the time they got to sneezing "delicately", Prim couldn't help but snort under her breath. The teacher let it go with a warning glare. But then they practiced fluttering their lashes, and Prim couldn't hold back anymore.

She burst out laughing.

"What is the problem?"

But that just set her off more. She tried to close her mouth, but her chest heaved up and down up and down until she could contain it no longer. Her breath bust through her nose and out of mouth, almost spewing. Her giggles eventually subsided, and she dabbed at her eyes.

Cato can shove his damn training, Prim thought.

"Ms. Everdeen—" Her voice, high-pitched and whiny, set her off into the giggles again.

She clutched her sides, enjoying the pain. It had been so long since she last laughed. She almost couldn't remember. Since Katniss, it was as if there was a cloud or a weight trying to press her back into the earth. In this brief moment, she felt free.

"Pointless."

"Excuse me?"

"I said pointless. This class and you."

It felt good to say what was on her mind.

"Out!" The teacher pointed towards the door. A section of her hair separated from the perfect curls, sticking almost straight up into the air. Her face was red and flustered. The thought that Prim made Mrs. Manniola less than perfect was oddly satisfying. "Get out of the classroom."

Prim stood, still breathing heavy, an odd giggle still escaping. A smile plastered to her face.

"With pleasure," she curtsied, making sure her leg stayed in the position she taught her. She fluttered her eyes for the last insult before kicking off her horrid heels, slamming the door, and walking into the lobby sans-shoes.

It took a few moments of delirious, almost-high strutting before the reality crashed into her. What did she just do? It was completely unlike her. Back in district 12 she was known as the quiet and shy girl, even before Katniss died. She was the girl that helped heal never harmed.

But something about district 2 brought the worst out in her. Something about Cato. Something about Mrs. Manniola. The culture breed violence and cruelty, and it triggered something deep inside Prim, the part of herself she shared with her sister. She wouldn't stand for it, not against herself or anybody else.

But what she did was foolish, even if it did feel amazing and freeing at the time.

What would Cato do?

Prim didn't want to wait and brood to find out. Get it over fast and quick. She was going to search him out. Besides, after getting kicked out, she wasn't sure where else to go. Maybe if she plead her case, Cato would bring them back home.

She didn't feel fear like she should have.

She strutted down the hall, still riding the feeling of being impenetrable and high.

Twenty Minutes Later

Though the outside of the building was shaped like a box, many of the corridors curved in a circle. There were hundreds of doors lining the path. She heard raised voices in some and passed a few people traveling in a hurry. They gave her odd glances, but kept going. One boy, probably about seventeen or eighteen, dressed in the same uniform as Cato, stopped in his tracks and stared at her. The attention would usually embarrass her, but in her odd mood, it invigorated her.

"Are you looking for something?" The boy asked. His voice sounded younger than her guess, and his face did too. His cheeks still rounded out with fat like a baby's, smooth, without hair. Prim looked closer. Maybe he was fifteen... or fourteen.

What did they feed the boys here to make them grow so big!

"Actually," Prim said, using this to her advantage, "I am a little lost. Can a gentleman lead a lady to her destination?"

Prim doubted he was a gentleman. Who knows what awful things he'd already done? But the boy nearly tripped over himself. She wondered what he would do if he found out she was just a slum rat from district 12.

"Sure. Where'd you like to go?"

"Are you sure you won't be late to wherever you're going?"

The boy rubbed the back of his neck.

"Well—no." He seemed to talk himself into it. "I think I'll be okay? It shouldn't take long, right?"

"I'm not sure. Is the training room far?"

Prim wasn't sure if that was what the boys called it, but she must have not been too far off the mark.

"Training room?" He looked down at her shoe-less feet and her dress in confusion, "What would a Manato girl want with the training room?"

There it goes with the Manato Code again, Prim thought. She had to figure out what it meant.

"Oh, nothing. Just curious. Some of the girls dared me to take a peek."

He eyed her warily, but conceded.

"It's right this way." He walked the opposite way she was going.

Five minutes later they arrived at a large two way metal door with a device sticking out from the side.

"It's a good thing you asked me. Not just anybody can get in; you need to scan your prints. Actually, now that I think about it... I'm not sure."

"Oh, please," Prim placed a hand on his muscled arm. "Just a peek?"

He gulped visibly, staring at the hand on his bicep. Prim felt odd doing this. She had seen other girls use their charm many times in school to get what they wanted. It came easier than she thought it would. It only took him a second to think before he placed his hand on the pad. The metal doors swooshed open.

"Just a peek, and then you need to come back. What's your name, by the way? I might have to keep you in mind for the future. "

Prim smiled at him. He smiled back. And then she ducked her head under his arm and sprinted in.

He raced after her, his fingers trying to tug on her dress but missing it by inches.

"Stop!"

The room came into full view. A cacophony of noise met her. The sound of clanging swords, shouts, grunts. A man in one corner lifted a gigantic metal contraption in the corner. The room measured about an acre in length with different sections: hand-to-hand combat, knife throwing, archery. There were other several random sections where she wasn't sure what the purpose was. But the biggest, and most important area, was swordplay. It was in the center.

That was where she saw Cato.

He stared at two fighters with a side-ways expression. After a second, he stopped them, pulling one of them aside. He grabbed the boy's sword, slicing it through the air as if it was an extension of his arm. He did it one more time, slowly, to show the boy again how to use it.

The boy that brought her inside placed a hand on her shoulder.

"You should go back. We don't want anybody to notice..." he trailed off.

Too late. Nearly every eye was on them. Prim glanced back towards the center of the room.

Cato, sword in hand, marched towards them.