Hi, it's been a while... I'm so sorry, I haven't given up, I've just been really ill and couldn't look at a scream for long, so writing this took a while. I'm not entirely sure what happened when I was writing Flynt, I might have been high on flu medicine... but it took a turn. Regardless, it gave me a really good idea for a sub-plot revolving around him, that I thing could add a good dimension to the story. I really like the way I've written Florence's reaping, and I think that that whole section is one of my favourites that I've done for this story so far. I promise that more regular updates will resume soon, and I hope you enjoy this!

Flynt

"I don't know why you're scared." Alder fell into step with Flynt, the sound of their footsteps creating a happy rhythm. That was how the two of them worked, almost as if they were in their own little bubble. They knew each other so deeply, and Flynt knew he could trust his best friend with anything. "You would beat any of them. They should be scared of being in the area with you." Alder nudged the taller man next to him, stumbling backwards as Flynt responded with a light punch to his arm. Except, light wasn't the perfect way to describe it. Whilst Alder loved almost everything about the man who he had spent most of his life next to, he was just so completely unaware of his own strength, that he often found himself hurting others without meaning to. By Flynt was sensitive, and special, and gentle, and Alder had no doubt that he would never intentionally hurt someone. He felt the luckiest man alive to know that someone like Flynt had chosen him as a companion.

Flynt was thankful for Alder attempting to calm his nerves, but he simply just didn't get it. Their lives were so different, Alder had no family left, when for Flynt, his sister and mum were everything to him. The fear he felt wasn't over the fact that he might die in the games, it was that someone he cared about more would. It was the thought of losing his mother, and being left without any parents, it was the thought of his younger sister growing up having only him for family, it was the thought that if he was reaped, he would have to leave everything behind. But he couldn't explain that to Alder, he would have no idea what a fear like that felt, all he had was Flynt, and no matter how close they were, it would never compare to the way Flynt felt about his family.

"I know." He eventually spoke, not believing it. Flynt may have been fit and trained in basic combat, but when it came down to it, he didn't know if he was capable of ending someone else's life. "And think about it," They turned the corner to the square, as people started to gather. "There is at least triple the people here, the chances of either of us being reaped is unlikely."

After a few minutes of just standing and staring as people got their fingers pricked and settled into lines, Flynt walked over to his family, Alder following close behind.

Just as the group began to hug, the Capitol anthem began to blare out, forcing their attention to the stage.

The District Seven escort strolled out, her face stern and emotionless, despite the somber mood that dominated the crowd in front. It was almost as if the Capitol were raising robots, people who could condemn citizens to a lifetime of torture in just a few weeks, and not lose a second of sleep over it.

"What an exciting day!" The escort cried, showing, for the first time, something over than a stone faced boredom. "We already have half our tributes, all eager and ready to get started, so let's find out who will be joining them." The entire crowd seemed to take a breath, leaning forward to try and read the name on the paper before it was announced. "And your male tribute is, Flynt Eaton."

He felt his mother grab at his hand, he felt Alder grip his shoulder. He couldn't look at either of them, the possibility that he would just break down was far too strong. He took a shaky breath, shaking off the hands of his loved ones, commiting the short walk up to the stage.

It felt like the reaping dragged on for ever, Flynt on the verge of tears the whole time. All he wanted was to go inside and be alone, step away and take a breath, and pretend that for a little while things would be okay.

But when it was over, he wasn't ready, he forgot that tributes were housed in the Justice Building before it was time to leave, and he was by no means ready to face that.

Flynt had only been inside the Justice Building only once before, on the worst day of his life, and he had wanted nothing more than to forget about it's whole existence, but here he was, once again, the memories of that day, and the uncertainties of what was to come for him playing forever on his mind.

He walked over to the fire place against the centre of the back wall, running his hands over the plaster, flicking off the dust that had gathered on his fingers. Flynt remembered performing the exact same action almost five years ago to the day, only this time, his father wasn't lying in a coffin seven feet away. The reality of where he was going and what was to come for him hadn't fully sunk in, all he could think about was his father, the way his family had fallen apart, his sister growing up without ever knowing her father. His breath hitched in his throat, thinking about the day his whole world ended, and Flynt forced himself to focus on counting the wooden floorboards to stop himself from crying.

"Flynt? Are you in here?" He recognised Alder's voice immediately, his head swiveling away from the fireplace, gravitating towards the man leaning against the door frame. "They told me you were in here, but I couldn't find you." Alder knew he had to tread carefully, he knew all the memories that this room held for Flynt, the time he had spent in here probably staying on his mind forever. He walked over to his friend, and Alder could feel his pace slowing as he edged closer and closer. He had so many things on his mind, things we wanted to stay and avoid, and confess, but none of them he was ready to face.

"God I'm so glad you're here, I'm going crazy here alone, you keep me sane." Flynt smiled, closing the gap between them and pulling Alder into a hug. Things felt okay when he was around, and although Flynt had a countless collection of things he had to deal with, Alder made it all just a little bit clearer.

"They said I only have two minutes, your mother is out there." Reluctantly, Alder pulled away from the hug, more than aware that it would be perhaps the last they had together. "I just wanted you to know, that whatever happens I'm going to be there. If you come back, or don't, I will never stop caring about you, and wanting you in my life. You're so special, thank you for giving me everything, and making my life the best it could possibly be." He could feel the tears welling in the corner of his eyes, desperate not to lose his best friend to a game that existed only to destroy lives. The Hunger Games seemed so incredibly pointless to Alder now. He only resented the Capitol more as a result, hated the whole institution for taking away one of the most precious people in his life, and he knew it was the case for so many people across Panem.

"Alder, you're the best friend I could ever have wished for. You don't have to worry about me coming back, the thought of not seeing you again will make me fight." Flynt smiled, taking a step back as a peacekeeper entered the room. He hated himself for being so soppy and open, but Alder had given him so much, it was only right that he showed that appreciation back.

Alder turned to leave, but regret was already building inside him, if this was the last time he saw Flynt, he needed to make sure he had his feelings hurt.

"I love you Flynt." He paused for a second, taking the man's hand. "I'm in love with you. I have been for years, and I wasn't going to tell you, but this isn't exactly normal circumstances." Alder lent in, placing his lips against his best friends, something he neer thought he would have the confidence to do.

Flynt stood frozen. He thought the reaping would be the most surprising thing to happen to him today, but he had no idea what was to come. He placed his hands flat against Alder's chest, pushing him backwards, and forcing the man to stumble backwards. "You need to leave Alder, now."

Florence

The cold bit at Florence as she stepped out of the house, forcing her to pull the thin shawl that covered her shoulders tighter around her. She knew she should be staying inside, it was just after midnight and the day that followed was sure to be a chaotic one, the last thing she needed was to spend her night in the woods or catch a chill. But there was nothing Florence could do, no matter how tired working had made her, she simply couldn't sleep. So she went to the only place that made her feel safe: the fields. Florence spent a majority of her life outside, working in the forest, she was surprised she wasn't tired of it, but there was something about feeling the fresh air against her skin that made her feel so alive, the way the branches scratched against her skin as she scrambled towards the clearing made her head feel just a little bit clearer.

The reaping didn't usually play on Florence's mind as much as it currently was. She was used to the fear of the Games by now, they were a part of her life, and a part she knew would never change, but there was something about this year that was putting her more on edge. She knew it was probably just the fact that it was a Quell, that the dynamics would be different to any other time, but still remained the thought that for the first time, her family might not escape it untouched. And so, no matter what she tried, or what she thought about, there was no escape, she simply couldn't sleep, and there was no point her lying there, being tormented by her thoughts.

She walked the familiar route through the town, her footsteps loud along a street that was so scarcely empty. Florence was thankful for the sound of her feet making contact, it grounded her, and droned out the pounding of her racing heart. Eventually she reached the place that felt more like home than any building ever would- a field, her field, her escape and place to run away to at moments where staying just felt impossible. Moments like this, where Florence was sure that if she spent one more second in that house she would explode. She could scream here, or cry, or laugh, or simply sit and stare at the sky, and no one would ever know. She could be anyone, or do anything and there would be no one there to tell her that she was wrong, or it wasn't who she was supposed to be. There was no reaping here, no Hunger Games, no Districts or Capitol, just silence and freedom, and the harsh spring breeze swirling around, the only reminder for Florence that she was alive.

Slowly, Florence made her way over to the centre of the field, pausing for a second, and spinning on the spot, letting out a long breath, feeling thankful that in a world filled with destruction, she had her own place of perfection. A place where she could feel anything she wanted and not feel guilty, or like a burden.

She lowered herself to the ground, gasping as she shook off the shawl, her bare arms embraced by the cold air. Florence laid backwards, the harsh grass cutting into her arms, stinging but making her feel so alive.

"I've failed you, I know." The male voice broke Florence out of her bubble, the brief protection and sanity she had felt being crushed by the sudden return of reality. "And you know how I can tell that?" Her father pressed, taking a seat on the grass, forcing Florence to sit up and face the conversation. Charles lent back on his hands, his eyes tracing the outline of his daughter against the darkness of the sky behind them.

She shook her head, torn between wanting to go back to her silence and thinking, and being thankful that someone had noticed that she wasn't okay. Mostly though, she wanted to be a child again, she wanted to go back to the time where everything could be fixed by being wrapped in the arms of her father.

"I know I've failed because you felt like you couldn't come and talk to me, and instead you run off to a field. I know I've failed because you should always be able to come to me. I know I've failed because I don't know why you've run off to this field, or what's bothering you. And I hate it." Florence had never known her father to admit his faults in such a way, to be so open and emotional, especially with her. It felt good, to know that such a sensitive side existed, but Florence wasn't sure she was completely ready to have this conversation, especially on the night before the reaping.

Or perhaps this was the best time. Who knew what tomorrow held, this might be their last chance, or even better, it might settle some of the uncontrollable nerves she was feeling.

"You haven't failed." Florence lied. It wasn't exactly true, he hadn't always been there for her, or their family, he hadn't exactly provided for them as they would have hoped, but he hadn't left, he had done everything he could, and she would be forever thankful for it. "You've always been there, we couldn't ask for anymore."

Physically, Charles had always been there, but in the things that mattered, he was more absent that Florence dared to think about. He worked, hard, but it was never enough, and Florence and her mother always found themselves working over time to provide for their large family, and whilst they all knew he tried his best, she couldn't help but be at a loss as to why he didn't just start a new career. It wasn't only the money side that Charles had fallen short in, but the emotional side. Conversations like this were few and far between and although Florence would be unlikely to take her father up on the offer, it would have been nice to know that he was there. But she could never tell him that, she knew how much he cared, and how much he loved their family, and how much it would break him if she confessed that it wasn't enough.

"I know you're lying." He sat up straight, pulling his daughter closer to him, forcing Florence to rest her head on his shoulder. "But it's okay. We'll get through tomorrow, like I know we can, and then we'll talk, we'll start working through this mess. Let's just get the reaping over with, and then we'll change everything."

For the first time, the fear that Florence had been feeling about the reaping began to disperse, she felt excited about the future, excited about the prospect of her family coming together, and starting something fresh. A change was coming, Florence could tell, she just hoped it was for the best.

Gamemakers

Mox sat alone in her living room, watching as Florence made her way to the stage, noticing how the girl almost didn't recognise her name at first. She glanced down at her notebook, filled with endless details of the tributes, their history, the way they reacted, she was even beginning to formulate a profile on how to destroy them in the games. After all, it was only a matter of time before Clem fell, and she was more than ready to be the one to mop up the mess.

What struck Mox currently, however, was the fact that Florence's page was completely empty. Of course, in the short moments since the girls name was called she had managed to discover a whole personal history of the girl, but in terms of who the female tribute was, Mox had nothing. Sure, she was nervous, and not entirely jumping for joy at the prospect of the games, but Mox could only think that this wasn't the whole truth. There was something there that the prospect Head Gamemaker couldn't quite read, something mysterious, and almost threatening, and it made her feel impossibly on edge.

This girl was either the key to her success or the instrument of her downfall. Mox was balancing on a knife edge, her future and life on the line. She had a plan to get what she wanted, to make it to the top where she belonged, and it was only a matter of time before the it all became a reality, or all came crashing down.

As always, thank you for all your support, and I hope you enjoyed this and are liking the tributes!

Until next time,

Alice xxx