Train Rides.

Their threats come at me, their voices are loud.
All to condemn me, my face is still proud.

Castellan Isenya, 18
District One Male

"This was never supposed to happen."

Beside me, Marcie shifts uncomfortably as the train slowly pulls away from the station. She shoots me a snappish look. "It's fun, isn't it?" she sneers. "Years of giving back to our community and this is how they repay us."

On the bench in front of us, Heidi is curling into herself, obviously more affected than Marcie or I let on. Her cheeks are slick, soaked with tears; crystalline droplets waver tentatively on the tips of her eyelashes. If I were a better person, I'd shoot her a calming smile. But I am Castellan Isenya, and frankly, she needs to pull her shit together if she wants to stand a chance.

The door on the opposite side of the room slides open to reveal our past two victors: Brielle Lavenge and Carrigan Rey. Though they might as well be celebrities, none of us give them more than a glance. To pair, neither of the women appear particularly pleased coming near us, as is evident when both of them heave a heavy sigh and exchange a look as soon as we come into their peripheral.

Ever the one for entertainment and verve, Marcie sets aside her bitching and comes to her feet with a wide smile. "Mentors!" she says brightly. "Pleased to meet you. I'm Marcie Astrup, and this is Castellan Isenya, Heidi, dear, would you be a dear and introduce yourself."

Heidi's head pops up, still sniveling. "I'm Heid-"

"Oh, we know who you are," Carrigan murmurs with the amount of charm as a dead snake. "Save your happy introductions like this is a fresh start. We know what you've done."

Marcie flips a piece of hair over her shoulder, obviously discontent. She always does that hair flip when she's unhappy. It's one of the many things I've picked up from semi-living in this bitch's shadow. "Then what are you here for if not to insult us on our way to the graveyard?"

"Because we are your mentors." Brielle shoots Carrigan a pointed look. "At the end of the day, it's ideal to bring one of you back."

"Or not," Carrigan mumbles.

Marcie claps her hands. "You seem like a happy duo," she saps, her tone still sharp with discomfiture. She tilts her head, layering a syrupy smile on top of her evident disgust. "With that being said, I feel as if we'd work better as separate entities. I don't think we'll be in much need of mentoring… or whatever it is you call this shake-down."

I rise to my own feet, never reluctant to back Marcie up. "It's true," I drawl, folding my arms over my chest. "It's clear already our minds are on two different planes of existence. We might just work better off without you."

They exchange yet another look. "Fine by me," Carrigan mutters.

"No," Brielle says, forcefully. She seems to pierce me with her eyes; for once, I turn my head down. "We are all District One, no matter how you perceive us. And we are the ones who have watched kids go into these Games year after year. They can take our advice or not. Doesn't affect us. But you know what the trend is for those who choose to turn their backs on us? You might think you've got a chance, but without us, you're fodder for the bloodbath in an instant."

Heidi squirms.

Marcie simmers.

I hold up a hand, shooting down a warning glance to my two friends. "We'll work with you," I sigh. "You've made some good points. But there's animosity. I think we need to work out a schedule for personal time versus mentoring time."

"Even better." That's Carrigan.

"Fine," Marcie huffs. She narrows her eyes into little slits of blue. "But I want my personal time now."

Carrigan and Brielle disperse rather quickly into a neighboring train car; once again, it's just me and the bitches, left in our own stew of stress and self-pity.

"That went well," I gruff, settling gingerly into a pile of throw pillows. "What's up your ass, Marcie? Someone decided that this just was the Tuesday to throw the perfect bitch fit, huh?"

She folds her arms. "I don't like them."

"Either of them," Heidi choruses behind her.

"So we're on the same page. I think they both need to go straight to hell. Neat." I flicker my eyes heavenwards for a split second. Just kidding! "I know that for the past few years Marcie has been matriarch over whatever sort of fucked up family replacement we all have going on here, but things need to be different considering the circumstances." Marcie hurls me a sour look. "Bitch, you can't tell me you're not volatile."

"And you can't tell me you're not an ass-sucking little coward most of the time," she shoots back.

"Whatever flaws we may have..." I tighten my lips into a smile. "We need to figure our shit out before everyone else. We have an advantage here. You think the outcasts and criminals from the other districts have any sort of connection like this?"

"We don't deserve to be here with that lot." Heidi sniffs.

Marcie snorts. "They're lowlives."

"Villains."

"Racketeers!"

"We are the fucking racketeers." It takes everything within me to not shove her off the bench into a cold, hard reality check. I clench my hands together properly. "And we have dug our own grave, Heidi. If anything, we should've been preparing for this since the day they announced the Quell."

What were we doing the day of the Quell? I wasn't selling, I remember that much. Probably roped into some stupid scheme that Marcie cooked up and Heidi was too lazy or high to speak out against. And I probably went along because, hell, what else am I gonna do, make better friends?

I've lived my entire life of One on a sort of cusp; the cusp of being genuinely liked by my peers, the cusp of edging Marcie out on her role of godfather, the cusp of Heidi liking me more than she liked Marcie, the cusp of being in the true golden inner circle of One's richest families. Always the cusp – never quite the cascade.

Maybe this is it, I realize as the train chugs along and my friends look tiredly out the windows. Maybe this is the cascade I've been waiting for, the time to finally prove myself as more than a sidekick. Maybe this is the way I break out and finally be the best– be the person at the top of the food chain, not hovering awkwardly somewhere below.

Maybe this is a reckoning.

Nahla Ono, 17
District Three Female

The fading lights of District Three finally halt to a darkness as our train pulls into the tunnel. Yearning for just one more glimpse at the twinkling bits of glitter against the navy sky, I press my nose up to the glass. My eyes flicker about, but the sad truth is confirmed: I've seen the last of my district. I sink back against the luxurious seat, feeling all too much and all too little at once.

On one hand, what a blessing – to get away from my father, to live a week without the rigid restrictions I've been surrounded by my entire life was a dream I never could have imagined unless he was dead and buried. It seemed unattainable and far away, just like a childhood memory you've all but forgotten. But as reality settles in by the minute with each lonely ache that overtakes me, it becomes apparent that the dream was all too real this entire time.

It was attainable in the form of a deathbed.

Venec Alquist, my random partner, slides into the caboose bearing two white mugs that steam at the top. I watch warily in the dim lighting as he settles into a seat across from me, eyes nervous.

"Good evening," he says, tense. "You didn't come out for dinner, so I brought some tea in case you were feeling sick."

The thought is nice. The company is not.

I draw in a long sip from the mug, savoring the earthy mint flavor on my tongue in an attempt to calm myself further. Reminds me of home. It's not like I was ever deprived of the nicer things in life, but my parents preferred the most simplistic routines known to man. Black coffee in the morning, three portioned-out meals a day, tea with a spot of milk at bedtime to help the mind drift off. Kiss your mother good-morning, scrub the floors before your father gets home at night. Work, work, work. Train, train, train.

"Are you? Uh, feeling sick?"

My train of thought is once again interrupted by the gangly boy seated in front of me. He's barely a boy, really, moreso an oversized puppy seeking my approval. His big grey eyes meet mine briefly. Clearly feeling awkward, he resorts to taking a quick sip of tea. He promptly scalds his tongue, hissing and grasping for his napkin all at once. The sudden commotion causes his hand to flail out, which proceeds to send his mug sliding across the table, which in turn forces said mugs to collide with a loud, metallic CLANK!

I blink. Slowly, I reach out and slide my mug away from his.

"Oh my God," Venec says, a bit faintly as he fans his face. "Maybe I'm feeling a bit sick."

"It's okay," I mumble out, my voice groggy from lack of recent use. "I'm not feeling the greatest, either."

"I just still can't believe it," he murmurs, gazing down mournfully at the puddle of tea in front of him. "I mean, I never even knew I was in the drawing. I didn't think so many people knew who I was. And I still don't know what I did to deserve it…"

Tensely, I scratch the back of my head. That same unsavory memory I had from before, when his name was first called at the Reaping, threatens to make an appearance. But I shove it back down, banish it somewhere deep in the depths of my mind.

It's not even incriminating, I murmur to myself. So what if his last name was in your dad's files –it's a coincidence. It's not like your father has the power. The capacity. The brutality. He wouldn't…

"Bet I have an idea for why I was voted in." I hear myself talking robotically, as if someone else is inside of me, flipping switches and turning cogs to coddle and comfort this random boy. It's not like me. I'm not one to comfort, it's foreign to me – but I'd rather venture into unfamiliar territory than mull over the same thing I've been picking apart for the last two hours. "But I also bet you've never had a run-in with a Peacekeeper, ever."

Venec lifts up the corner of his mouth. It's almost a smile. "You'd be right."

My heart flutters. "Then I'll assume you've never met my dad," I say, in a rush. "Probably a good thing." Fuck! Why did I say dad? "O-Or my mom. They're both on the squad…"

But if I thought he were catching onto any connections with the Ono name, I'm wrong. His mouth is upturned into a real smile now, small as it may be, and this time he's trying to make me feel better by chuckling. "I don't know a single Peacekeeper," he says. "But I'm sure enough people do. I'm sorry that's the reason you were voted in, Nahla, that you couldn't control it."

Somewhere within me, the nervous heartbeat slows into a comfortable thudding.

"I mean, it's okay…" I shrug. "What's done is done and now we're here. The only thing I can do now is prepare for the future."

Venec smiles again, a bit too wide. "That's a good way to look at it," he chuckles.

The pregnant silence hangs heavy between us. His big eyes flutter up to meet mine, then cast themselves back to the mess of tea on the table. It dawns on me that this is one of the most normal interactions I'll have in the upcoming week. Is this when alliances are formed? How are people supposed to make friends that you'd trust with your life off a stupid conversation about saving face and nerves?

"Well," he drawls reluctantly, directing a quick glance to the blurry sky outside, "I think it's getting a bit late. I should probably try to get any sort of rest before tomorrow."

It can't be more than seven in the evening, but my bones are weary as well. Yet I don't get up with him; something keeps me rooted to my chair. "That's a good idea. I might stay awake for a bit longer, finish my tea." I don't meet his eyes.

I feel his presence linger beside me a moment longer, as if inviting me with, but all too soon do I acknowledge the absence by my side. I'm alone once again – just me, my unwelcome thoughts, and the cooling mug of tea sitting before me.

You don't know him or who he is, I remind myself. You don't owe him anything. Nothing ever happened between you...

Yet the longer I sit, the more I think of Venec, the less steam comes off my mug of tea, and the deeper the pit in my stomach grows.

Alpheus Baker, 17
District Eleven Male

There's not a soul stirring in the train car, not even a mouse.

The quiet is welcome, actually, after a frenzied few months of parties, alcohol, and celebrations. It's easy to forget how calming the simple sound of rain pattering on a roof is when you've grown so accustomed to the refreshing tinkling of a new drink being poured, the cheering and screaming of friends around you as someone grows another year older.

The solace has provided me not only with time to think about how I've gotten here, but also about how loud the groaning in my stomach has become.

I swing my legs off the bed, grasping the window ledge for effort. I'm still not used to the unfamiliar swaying of the train car as it shuttles us off to the Capitol, but I suppose the faster it goes, the faster we can get there, and I can make the world my absolute bitch. Time is money!

The kitchen car – probably my favorite place on this train – is easy to find, and already illuminated. They must've known I was comin'! Licking my lips with excitement, I fling open the doors of the refrigerator to find an assortment of appetizers that we feasted upon earlier. Not daring to take longer than I need to, I carefully finger through the food to find my favorites: the cranberry-brie pastries, camembert stuffed olives, the cheese toasts…

Why stop there? My eye falls upon a half-empty bottle of white wine in the corner. I mean, if it's my last night without a rigid Capitol schedule, I may as well have a bit of a fun sedative. Good thing white's my favorite.

I'm so caught up in my snacking that I almost don't hear the telltale footsteps from the car beyond. I turn just in time to catch a face full of Luena Glacelle, rubbing the sleep from her eyes quite aggressively.

"What is the meaning of this?" she complains. She takes in the bottle clutched in my hand. "Two in the morning and you're drinking… alone?"

I'm unable to keep from a smile. "I mean, not yet. And you know, it's not drinking alone if you're here. Care to partake?"

If Luena hesitates, I don't see it. "What am I gonna do…" her eyes twinkle. "Say no?"

I pour two generous glasses out, offer one to Luena, and take a seat at the kitchen island. "It's crazy to actually be here," I sigh, glancing around the luxurious kitchen. I feel as if I can see myself reflected in every single surface. "I never really knew what it would feel like."

"What do you mean?" Luena leans forward, intrigued.

I laugh lightly, gesturing around the room. "Being here. Actually getting to go to the Capitol, to the Hunger Games. You know when you've wanted something for so long, and then you finally get it?" I don't wait for her response. "Because this is it. This is it, baby!"

Luena laughs along. "You make it sound like we're here on vacation. You know this is my dream too, right?"

"Your dream is my dream." I sigh with content, taking a long sip from my glass. "I'm sorry. I'm usually not a sentimental guy, but it's just really something to be here after all that's gotten me to this point."

First the virus turning my district on its head, then my parents dying and leaving me to the claws of the orphanage. I won't say life has been hard, because quite honestly, I'm luckier than most to have my extended family take me in and getting to avoid said orphanage. And to have such a solid support system of Kyra, Ashley, and Tonya – my heart sings a little as I think of my cousins. I wish they were here to see this all with me. Then I wouldn't be the only person pigging out at the fridge.

Yet I almost forget the girl in front of me, my newfound drinking partner. Luena's eyes are distant in her own hazy train of thought.

I like Luena. I think she might be just like me.

"I understand," she says. "And you know I do, too, because we both campaigned to be here. Don't think I didn't see you popping your head out of those roofless cars, passing out fliers, kissing babies. If I didn't know better I would've thought you were running for president of Panem."

I chortle with glee, just happy to be recognized. "If my parents didn't vote me in, I'm sure they would've voted for you!" I counter. "Promising to use your victor powers for good if you win, turning Eleven into a more profitable district than Twelve. It's a very noble cause to take on, I must say."

"And all I have to do is spear a few kids to do it." There's a morbid silence, before she laughs a bit harshly and drowns out the rest with a mouthful of wine. Gutsy. Doesn't care what people think. I like it.

I raise my chin, admittedly struggling to keep the smile on my face as I envision my younger cousins in the arena. "Ah, that is the downside of being cloaked in such luxury, isn't it?"

"Worth it, though, now that we're sleeping in silk and bathing in liquid diamonds." She cackles. "It's weird, I didn't think there was a world more pretentious than Eleven, but here we are. We haven't even stepped foot in the Capitol! I bet it's like being on another planet."

"Until the arena!" I raise an eyebrow. "And then it's… you and me against the world?"

An awkward proposition with anyone else, but with Luena it feels oddly natural and fluid. She purses her lips into a smile, no doubt smug that I'd brought the topic up before her. But if we're being honest, it is two in the morning. I've grown tired.

"Oh, I'm in."

"Lovely to have you on my side, Miss Glacelle." Throwing back the rest of my glass and wiping my mouth, I nod to her courteously. "Now speaking as your ally and not district partner, I highly recommend you treat that as a sedative and get some sleep. We have devious plans to cook up and people to scout out tomorrow."

Her eyes twinkle. "Alph, I just can't wait."

A/N: Nowhere to Run by Stegosaurus Rex.

It's been five months? No it hasn't : )

Anyways. Yes it has and I have no real excuse for me being a full-time college student with two jobs and a social life. So that sucks but at least it's winter break and I've regained some of my motivation. Castellan's POV has been written since August, I opened it back up and hammered out the other two over the course of today. Hopefully I keep this stamina up, I'm having fun!

Nothing else is new in my life. I don't know who really cares but I thought I would tell you all anyways. I know how to make roasted garlic now and I've played about 700 consecutive hours of Among Us… if anyone wants to play with me my favorite map is Polus…

Anyways let me know what you think of Castellan, Nahla, and Alpheus! These three were fun!

Who are you looking forward to seeing next? A peek at the blog for a refresher might be helpful...

Till next time… (hopefully a week instead of half a year this time!)