Hi guys, this is going to be the last update for a few days- I have some exams and I'm going to London over the weekend to see some shows yay! Regular updates should resume on Monday though! I just wanted to say thank you for all the reviews and follows and favourites, every notification makes my small heart smile! Hope you enjoy this, and see you all next week.

Salome

A whistle rang through the streets and Salome snapped her head round instinctively. It wasn't a sound foreign to the girl, she should be used to it by now, but that didn't stop the pang of anger and hatred that spread through her body like venom. She raised her middle finger, saluting the group of boys that had the audacity to catcall her walking home. On a day like today as well, Salome thought to herself, shaking her head at the state of the world, the nerves she felt for the impending reaping clearly didn't translate to the rest of the district.

A smile spread across her face thinking about the way her mother would react to her act of defiance towards the boys, it was hardly inline with the ladylike manner her mother had her heart set on Salome adopting. But it shut them up, and it made her proud and for Salome, that was always a positive.

"Shoulders, Salome." The girl barely had time to open the door before her mother began barking out complaints. "We have been through this enough times. I don't pay all that money to have you walking around the streets like a slob. Shoulders back, spine straight." Her hand made contact with her daughters back, pushing it in, forcing Salome to stand up straighter. She winced at the ache that spread through her body, cursing her mother for being so set in her ways. Salome smiled, despite the sadness she was feeling inside, breaking away from her mother's grip, and turning to face her. "I've laid out an outfit for you in the other room, it's a big day today." Celeste spoke as if her daughter had forgotten what today was.

There was no way Salome could ever let the horrors of the day slip from her mind. Every year the reapings were a fear for her, but this year it was beyond what she had felt before. It wasn't only Salome's name in the bowl, but her family as well, only adding to the anxiety she already felt.

Celeste placed her hand against her daughter's elbow once more, guiding her into the bedroom. Salome let out an audible gasp, and she felt her mother pull away in shock. The outfit that lay across the chair was so contrary to anything Salome would ever have picked for herself. It was short, already a no from her, and it was bright, so unlike anything she would usually where.

"If you don't like it, we can change it, but we really haven't got long." The hurt in Celeste's voice was clear as she glanced at the silver watch on her wrist. Salome followed her gaze, reading the time. 1:00pm. They had an hour to make it to the square. In an hour, their fate would be sealed. In an hour, Salome would only have three more reapings to survive. That thought alone was the only thing getting her through. She was always getting closer to the end of the torment, and she was hoping that it would pass quickly and she would finally be free. But then something like the Quarter Quell would come along, and throw everything every citizen had felt away. Salome supposed that was the point. Atonement and all that, the 'mistakes' the districts made all those years ago still had to be corrected, by everyone, not just the teenagers.

She thought back to the dress and the words her mother had spoken, and whilst Salome knew she was being manipulated by her parent, she couldn't help but feel a bit sorry for the woman. She was trying her best, Salome knew that things had never been easy for Celeste on her own, and she was more than aware of the worry her mother must be feeling over the reaping. Gently, she laid her head on her mother's shoulder, smiling slightly. "It's perfect." She lied, playing with the hem of the outfit. "Now get out so I can make myself look beautiful!" She laughed, pushing her mother towards the door.

Locke

Loneliness had never been a problem for Locke. He had his daughter, Tybalt his best friend, and pretty much the pick of any woman in the district. Until now, Locke had never felt alone. But as he walked towards the Justice Building with no one by his side, he couldn't help but feel sad that he had to face this alone.

He wasn't scared, necessarily, Locke was far from unprepared for this. He'd spent his life training, and his chiseled body was a tribute to that, at one point even ready to put himself forward for the games by his own accord. That wasn't to say that Locke would jump at the chance to be one of the lucky 24. Times had changed, he had a daughter that needed a father, he had a group of young people relying on him for training. The Academy needed him and despite the thrill of the games calling him, he would never want to go for fear of ruining everything he had here. His daughter and his friends and his job meant more to him than any victory ever would, he was by no means ready to chance giving that all up.

Locke had attended almost every reaping since his 12th birthday, if not for himself then for his daughter or in support of students he had trained for the moment. Never did Locke think that he would attend another reaping with his name at risk of being called. As he rounded the final corner, he couldn't deny the anticipation that built within him, desperate to get the ordeal over with.

The square was more packed than Locke had ever seen before, and he didn't know why exactly he was shocked, he should have expected this, and he found himself scanning the crowd for any signs of his daughter, receiving no success. He didn't have time to search again, as the bowls were wheeled out, the events beginning.

"Thank you all for gathering here." Bella Derosa took to the stage, standing with a confidence that Locke found almost sickening. No matter how much he had ever wanted to participate or how many people he trained, there was no denying that the whole charade was disgusting, and Locke could never understand how the escorts got enjoyment out of condemning teenagers to their deaths. "We know how…" Bella cleared her throat contemplating what word to follow with as she took in the herds of people in front of her. "Anxious you are to find out this years tributes, so we'll cut straight to it. Your female tribute is….. Salome Leveau."

Locke felt the colour drain from his face, his heart beating faster than he had ever felt before. The last name he had ever expected to hear was his daughter's, his worst nightmare finally becoming a reality. His knees began to shake as he watched the most precious thing in his life walk up onto the stage, biting down hard on his tongue to stop himself calling out. He watched how she walked, with such confidence and elegance, and he was sure that Celeste would be proud. She was faking it though, Locke could see the fear that was present in her eyes, but he couldn't help the pride that washed over him seeing his daughter so collected and brave.

"And for your male tribute," Locke had almost forgotten that there was more tortue to come, Bella's voice snapping him out of his trance-like state. "Oh my god. Locke Leveau." She was shocked. The whole square was shocked, the chances of this happening was beyond one in a million. But here they were.

Locke couldn't quite put his finger on the feeling he felt as he walked on to the stage, but as he embraced his daughter it came to him. Relief. He was relieved, that not only he would be there to protect his daughter, but at the fact that she wouldn't be facing this hell hole alone.

"Your tributes, District Two!" Bella exited the stage, looking almost pleased at the tributes she had picked. Locke supposed he would be too, it would certainly add an edge to the game that no one had ever seen before.

Bella was getting a pay rise for sure.

Gamemakers

"Congratulations, Sir." Mox Seawood entered the room, looking down on the Head Gamemaker who sat, fixated on the screen. "A father and daughter duo. This has got to be better than you ever could have imagined." She placed a hand tenderly on the male's shoulder, squeezing it gently.

"This sure is shaping up to be an interesting year." Clem Heavenway looked up for the first time since his colleague had entered the room, meeting her eye. He pushed back in his chair, letting out a low hum as he surveyed the screen in front of him. "Very interesting." He repeated, quieter this time. Clem's head was spinning with a thousand ideas and question, ways to make this Quell the most interesting it could ever be.

Last years games had been a test for Clem, as one of the senior gamemakers he had been entrusted with making sure the final days of the games were as explosive as possible. And he had delivered, doing things that he was not proud of. The images still played in his mind every night, the pictures of children burning as they called out for their parents and siblings and friends to no avail. The way the fire licked at their heels as they ran for cover, the flames twisting at their ankles, swallowing them in an instant. Clem slammed his palms against the table, making Mox jump backwards.

This promotion to Head Gamemaker had been a blessing and a curse. He was loaded, to say the least, living in the best house in the Capitol with more food and women and alcohol than he could ever want. And he was powerful, beyond anything that he could have ever imagined, and he couldn't deny that it felt fabulous. People looked at him with fear and admiration and it made him feel prouder and happier than he ever had. But he knew now that he would have to be crueler than before. The Capitol were expecting more, they had seen what he had done last year, and Clem knew that anything less was disappointing. His eyes scanned the screen in front of him, looking over the four tributes that had already been picked. An elderly man, a woman who only wanted to see her brothers again and a father and daughter. He felt guilty, an emotion that should be nowhere near a Head Gamemaker. There was no way this was going to be an easy task, and although Clem had known this when he took the job, he had no idea just how impossible it would be.

Clem was snapped out of his thoughts, as he felt Mox's arm snake from his shoulder down his chest, a light breath tickling his neck as she lent in and began kissing long lines. "Very interesting." She purred against his skin, before their lips gravitated towards one another.

He had thought the kiss with mox would make things better, it usually did. But this time, the pit in Clem's stomach was even deeper. This job wasn't for him, he knew that as soon as he saw the face of Salome on this screen. It wasn't fair, this world that lived in, and Clem had known that for some time, only now he realised that he had to do something about it. He had the power to do something about it. He was Head Gamemaker, he could do whatever he wanted to these games. And he already had some ideas.

"Is something wrong?" Clem was jolted from the plans he was formulating, having almost forgotten that Mox was in the room. "You look troubled." The woman took a step back, grasping Clem's hand in her own.

"I'm scared, Mox." He confided, not totally sure why he was opening his heart to her. "I don't think I can do it. I can't watch a girl fight her own father." His heart was racing. Gamemakers were not supposed to be weak and if they were, they certainly didn't share it.

Mox smiled, kissing the man's hand gently before letting it go. "Its okay to be scared, Clem." She blinked slowly, walking towards the door. "It's a big change and it is only your second day, you'll grow into it." She exited the office, shielding Clem from the frown that had developed on her face.

She pulled a walkie talkie from her belt as she rounded the corner, connecting her straight to the Capitol central government. "I think we might have a problem. A problem with Clem."