Sometimes, embarrassing shit happens. It's just a part of life. Everyone goes through it at some point.

I was just hoping my embarrassing moment wouldn't have a repeat button.

When I woke up after my little 'relapse' as Gran likes to call it, I was upstairs in my old room. And when I say 'woke up' I don't mean 'and my eyes fluttered open as I looked around in confusion.' I mean 'the room finally came into focus and I realized I wasn't in Wonderland.'

I didn't actually fall asleep. Does that make sense?

It's been getting harder and harder to sleep. Sometimes the nightmares don't come right away, but I'll jolt awake out of habit. And then I'll feel guilty for being able to fall asleep without having a nightmare. So then of course I won't go back to bed, and then I'm like a walking corpse the next day, anyway.

I don't know what I prefer; the nightmares or the all-nighters.

I know I don't like either of them at all.

That's a start. I think.

I spent the rest of that day sitting in the corner I had found myself in with my arms wrapped aroud my knees which in turn were pressed tight enough into my chest that breathing was a miracle. At one point the thought crossed my mind thag maybe I was okay with not breathing. That maybe if I stopped- stopped breathing, stopped sleeping, stopped living- everything would be okay.

I mean, of course it would be okay for me. I'd be dead. Unless, of course, Heaven and Hell and God and the Devil are real. Then I'm screwed beyond the nightmares.

No, I don't want to stop.

Gran brought up some stew around six and set it next to me on the floor. I'm pretty sure she said something to me, but I had retreated into my head just oast that line of 'functioning in the real world.'

I didn't touch the stew.

I didn't sleep that night, either.

You know what happens after the Victory Tour?

The next Hunger Games.

PPOV

I propped my chin on my hand. It was almost closing time, and the bakery was dead empty. The only sounds were the humming of the ovens I would have to shut down before I left, and my breathing. My nose wasn't broken, thank goodness, but it sure did hurt like it. My whole face was black and blue already. My right eye ached something awful, and every now and then it would start wattering.

The look on my mother's face when I had walked back in had been... The normal, I suppose. The anger and satisfaction something I had seen almost everyday of my life. 'Serves you right.' She had said angrily. 'For running off like that in the middle of your shift.'

Explaining to her that I had run off to help Aces had only slightly brightened her mood.

I wasn't sure anymore if I should still talk to Aces after my shift. My plan this morning was to head to the butchers as soon as I was done turning off the ovens, to hopefully get some advice on how to even speak to Katniss. But after her meltdown, I wasn't sure that was a good idea. Meltdown. Is that the right word?

Thinking about that had brought me right back to thinking about Katniss. Shocker. I felt a little guilty sometimes, a little creepy, because of how often I thought of her. Her hair, her eyes, her voice.

It had been Katniss who had gotten Aces to calm down. I couldn't even believe that her or Hawthorne would step in. But if they hadn't, who knew what would have happened. My grip on her arms had already been slipping, and Lord knows Abernathy wouldn't have been able to stop her from grabbing that cleaver. And then what? Was she so far away from the moment that she would have turned on us?

I kicked the thought out violently. Aces was kind. She would have stopped.

I hope.

And, as it usually goes, my thoughts went to the looming Games. If I survive this next reaping... I'll tell her. No matter if I get Aces help or whether or not it helps.

Because I'm in love with Katniss Everdeen, and that's the only thing I know will never change.

GPOV

The first thing I did when I got home was fond Posy. I told her I didn't want her to be going over and talking to Smith anymore. Or talking to her at all. Or even going near her. She was confused, of course, but I didn't give her a reason why. I didn't want to scare Posy, and she didn't need to know the reason to be able to follow my rules.

Smith was crazy. Like, actual crazy. Her first meltdown hadn't been that bad, I've seen plenty of people pass out at the sight of blood. And plenty of people have been funny when given too much pain medicine.

But today... That had been an actual malfunction. She was messed up, from the games or whatever, and she wasn't safe. So I told Posy to stay away. I didn't want my sister getting hurt.

Tiny bruises rimmed my forearms and there were small knicks that I rinsed out from earlier. At least Katniss hadn't gotten hurt.

How had she done that? How had she calmed down Smith? Everytime I thought I knew all there was to Katniss, something new always popped up. It was unsettling. And slightly annoying. When would she stop changing? And when would the world stop trying to set me up with Smith?

KPOV

Today had not been what I expected. At all. I'm not sure yet if that's a bad thing.

Sooooo, the 74th Hunger Games are fast approaching. It will probably be mostly Aces POV, some Gale I'm sure, and a few Peeta. There may be one or two Katniss, but since we've already read the books, we know what was going on with her. So it will pretty much be a very similar story like. But now, since Aces has also become a victor, there are two female victors that could be tributes again from District Tweleve. Comment and give me your oppinion on what you would like to happen for the Quarter Quell. If you still want Katniss to go in, if her name should be called but Aces volunteers, if Aces name is called but Katniss volunteers... I'm open to suggestions!