-Edgard, D11M-

I don't want to wake up the next morning. The bed is just too comfortable and warm.

Delicia, our escort, throws the door open and the lights on. "Time to get up!" she says, her voice shrill. "Come on now! Up up up!" I hear her heels clicking away as she goes to retrieve my District partner. Martina and I haven't really been talking. She's solitary, I don't believe she wants to have allies. I won't push her.

I get up and rub my eyes. It's time for another day of training. When I glance at the clock, I realize that Delicia has chosen to awaken us earlier, probably in hopes that we can avoid the elevator jam that happened yesterday. I wish she hadn't forced us to get on. I got pretty up close and personal with that kid from Seven. He smelled good though. I've lingered on it pretty much all day after that. Anyways, I should definitely stop lingering on it now. It's one of those things that you have to focus on not thinking about, which, of course, makes you keep on thinking about it.

I go to the bathroom and wash my face, surprised at my reflection in the mirror. I still look like a Capitolite. If I wasn't going into a fight to the death, I know that Mich and Kayla would die of laughter. I envy the tributes that wore contacts instead of getting whatever the heck weird injection they gave us. It seems that not a lot of people got the contacts, though. I spent a lot of time with the scythes yesterday, trying to impress the co-Head Gamemakers while they're still fresh. If they're impressed by me now, they'll want to pay more attention to me later, when it matters most.

Today, though, I need to kick it into high gear and find myself an alliance and get on these survival stations. That will definitely be today's focus.

I get dressed in the uniform of training, and suddenly get hit right in the chest with frustration that I don't have a token. It's times like this that I'd like to remember where I came from, what I have to fight for. Of course I can remember, I love my friends and family, but not having the physical representation? That stings at the most random times.

I walk out to the kitchen, where Delicia sits fondly at the table. Chaff sits across from her, pouring some drink into his glass that may or may not be alcoholic. He says stuff about training and Martina listens eagerly, feasting off of every word.

"Oh, Edgard, good morning! Please, have a seat." I slide into a seat, thanking an Avox quietly when she delivers me a plate. Delicia clears her throat pointedly. "Don't thank Avoxes, young man! Honestly, if you even have any hope- which you don't- you have to learn how Capitol society works." I don't particularly care to do that, but I nod obediently. If there's anything the Capitolite Peacekeepers that frequent my family's bar like, it's being agreed with. And served alcohol. Especially both.

They set a plate in front of me with a huge waffle, covered in powdered sugar and whipped cream. I cut it up and put some syrup on it, still slightly awkward with the process because I've never eaten so politely.

Delicia is about to talk to me, adjusting her lemon headpiece, but thankfully my mentor Donavan Osten enters just then. He takes a seat at the table and takes a waffle. We sit in silence. I hear Chaff talking silently to Martina, and together they go to another car. I guess they're taking advantage of the time we're taking to eat. Delicia gushes and follows them, seeming impressed at how dedicated they are.

I glance up at my mentor, but feel far too awkward to try and start any kind of conversation. What can I say? Compared to Martina, I have absolutely no chance. She's strong, feisty, charismatic, and independent. I can't match up to her.

"So…" Donavan pushes a piece of waffle around with his fork. "Your second day of training."

"Yeah."

"You said you spent most of your time with weapons yesterday?"

"Scythe, yeah." I put some more waffles in my mouth.

"Hm. Survival today, of course."

"And allies." I say while I swallow the waffles. He tenses.

"Allies," he repeats.

"I'm going to need a couple, no?" I look up. What if I'm wrong about this?

"Edgard, my boy… How many are you thinking here?"

"At least one or two. Why?"

"Allies are something to be used with caution." His voice has gone ice cold and lowered in tone and volume. "I tell you the harsh truth because I want you to succeed. But the truth of the matter is that you're still just kids. No matter how you look at it. You are going to form a connection with any allies you make, any tributes you take the time to learn the story of. You're going to have a bond with them, you're going to root for them while still rooting for yourself. Then, you either lose them or you die." He isn't looking at me anymore. He's staring at his waffles and pushing them around. "And if you lose your ally, my boy, you will either have the motivation to win it all, or you'll lose your head. Or, in some drastic cases, both."

I blink at him, not sure what to say. He glances at his hands, as if there's something disgusting on them he wants to wash off.

"I won't get-"

"You say you won't. But you will. Please, my boy, I've seen this happen far too many times before. If you lose your head and become something you hate… You will never forgive yourself." The hurt in his eyes is fresh, even though he won the Games 45 years ago. "You never forget them."

Since we don't have many Victors, his Games are still fresh in memory. He was one of District 11's rare volunteers, in fact, one of four in the whole history of the District. He allied with the boy from District… Shit, I forget. Anyways, he allied with this kid, from… 3? 5? 6? Something like that. Together, they had a big plan to blow up the Careers. They took the kid and butchered him, gutting him like a fish. It was graphic, and brutal, and the teachers wouldn't let anyone look away, spewing Capitol propaganda the whole time it was happening. I wasn't in the Games, and I would never forget watching it. Anyways, the boy shouted at Donovan to run, and he did. Later, he got his revenge: bloody, bloody revenge. It was brutal and horrifying to watch. I remember it so vividly.

No wonder he's telling me this.

"Allies can be a big help. They can be your motivation to win. They can be the fire under your ass. When you lose them, you could also lose your head." He sips a glass of orange juice, and I think the word "Lev" forms on his lips. "They can also be your downfall, if you become dependent on them. Having an ally is a risk. Having two is an even bigger one. You could end up losing sanity over it, going around and pretending to see ghosts just to have them back. Or rely on drugs to get rid of them. Or-"

"I understand," I say quickly. He's really freaking me out.

"Oh yes, of course. I'm sorry, I got off topic. I just think-"

"Come on, boys!" calls Delicia irritably, calling the elevator. "It's time to go!"

"I'll be careful," I say. He still seems concerned, but lets it go as we go to meet the others.

The elevator opens, and the District 12 crew is on.

"Hey, Osten!" Haymitch gives a wave, and Donavan gets on the elevator, the rest of us following. The boy from 12 has his gray eyes back, making me jealous. He must've worn the contacts. The girl is keeping her head up.

"Morning Abernathy," Donovan says, seeming much more chipper than he was when he was giving me that dad-talk not too long ago.

"Another day, eh?"

"Certainly is."

"I'll drink to that," says Chaff, causing the three men to laugh. You know, it doesn't surprise me that these three are close, in hindsight.

"One more day of survival, of fostering our tributes to face the Games," Haymitch sighs.

"Well, I've got a winner here," Chaff says.

"I've got two stubborn ones," says Haymitch, smirking. The 12 tributes exchange a look, seeming slightly uncomfortable.

I sink, not expecting my mentor to say anything about me. I mean, I haven't done very much exceptional or strong-willed to earn his respect. "Mine here is very dedicated, don't count him out."

The conversation is cut off when the elevator stops at the 8th floor, and the eyes of two tributes, their mentors, and escort stare at us.

I do a double-take at the escort. She looks like some creepily pretty porcelain doll. Her skin is even pale, almost powder-white. She nudges the tributes forward, but Felicity stomps her foot.

"I'm not getting on that crowded thing!" she shrieks, throwing her arms up. Her eyes are hazel and wide, so she must've been lucky enough to get the contacts as well.

"Me neither," says the boy, crossing his arms, his lips in a snarl.

The escort sighs.

"Have a good day!" offers Jute Silk, Victor of the 67th Games. He gives a weak, friendly smile. Beside him, the oldest mentor to be around this year according to the documentary on TV, Carissa Kempton. She won 9 years before Donavan. We stand there, as the elevator insists on waiting for the others to get in, no matter how much Leo mashes the door close button. Finally, after what seems like forever of awkward staring at each other, the doors close.

"Anyways, you're both from outer Districts," snips Delicia, "Compared to the upper District tributes, no one of you has any chance at all."

"I believe District 12 is due for another Victor," says their escort, wearing a powdered wig and is very pink. "And this year may just be it."

"I have no faith," Delicia sighs, "I could have been transferred to a District that actually has a chance, but that immature and arrogant Diesel Bundren had to put his friends there. How incredibly rude and unfair!" She adjusts her lemony headpiece, scowling.

"You just have to keep a smile on," says the 12 escort, trying not to give a distasteful look to Haymitch.

"It's hard when your tributes are-" she's cut off (thank God) by the elevator doors opening and letting us all out.

The second day of training commences, and I walk to the fire-building station. I see some tributes working on it, but can't find the courage to start a conversation with any of them. When I think about it, the words are on my tongue, and I just can't force them out. I sit at the station, rubbing some sticks together.

"How're you doing?" I look over, confused, before I realize that the girl from 10 is talking to me.

"Oh… Hey." Her hair wasn't this copper brown color at her reaping. The black hair suits her much better. Her eyes are brown, but they're a much darker, deeper brown, so I'm guessing there was work involved with that.

"Eleven, huh?"

I glance awkwardly at the number on my shirt and nod. "Uh, yeah."

"Nice. I'm from the hell called District 10. My name's Rachel."

"Edgard."

"Nice to meet you, Edgard."

"You too." I try to focus on talking to her without sounding stupid and making a fire at the same time, but that doesn't go very well for me.

"So, hun, how's that fire going?"

"I'm trying."

"Ah, yeah. It's damn hard, but you'll get a grasp of it, I'm sure." There's an awkward pause. "I know I didn't look like a fucking Capitolite at the reaping, but I volunteered."

Yeah, I remember. How could I forget? Volunteers aren't exactly common. I nod, trying to make enough friction to produce a fire.

"I'm looking for some allies, though."

"Oh."

"Y'know, Doll, two brains are better than one." She taps her temple.

I nod, focused on the fire. I concentrate, and when I finally start to see some smoke, she's gone.

After I make a fire, I go to the edible berries test. I stare at the screen, giving a brief glance to the boy beside me, Rachel's District partner. He's messing with something, some kind of coil or something, I'm not sure. I'm jealous that he has a token. I run through the test once before I finally have the courage to say something to him.

"What's that?"

He looks up from where he'd just gotten severe diarrhea from eating some questionable berries.

"Around your finger?"

"This? Oh, this is my token."

"Well duh, I can see that." Shoot, I hope he doesn't think I'm being mean. Just teasingly sarcastic, that's all. "But what is it?"

"A string. That goes to my fiddle." His fingers twitch, itching for the instrument to be back in them. I wonder what it must be like to love something so passionately.

"Raoul," he says. I remember that he tripped up the steps at his reaping, and think that maybe he's more in my league to ally with than Rachel.

"Nice to meet you. I'm Edgard."

"Nice to meet you too."

"Do you play a lot of music?"

"All the time," he says. His eyes, synthetically the color of rust, look longing, upset. "It's kind of my life-force." His hands twitch, as if he wants to start playing an air fiddle, just for the longing of having a real instrument in his hand.

"Ah. I… I don't really have anything like that." I wish I did. I wish I had a purpose. I wish I had something I could do, something I could provide for other people. I wish.

"Hm."

We go back to the test. My hand hovers above the SAFE setting, and Raoul nudges my arm.

"Not safe," he says. "You'll die instantly."

"Oh. Thanks. You just saved my life there." I offer a light-hearted smile and select the NOT SAFE option.

"Sure thing." He gives a small smile back.

"I think I have the hang of the test, so I'm going to go try some other things to clear my mind and see how much I remember. Maybe we'll meet again though."

"Yeah. I'd like that." He goes off.

I keep on training until lunch. I get food and look around for somewhere to sit. I don't see Raoul sitting, so I slide into a seat. I tense up when I notice Diesel Bundren and Santana Villanueva walking around, though. I accidentally make eye-contact with Mr. Bundren, whose ice blue eyes lock on me and come over to sit across from me.

"Edgard from 11," he says, his voice thickly laced with his accent.

I feel weird eating while he's watching me, so I push my food around with my fork.

"How's training gone for you so far?"

"Er, it's gone well," I say, trying to plan out my responses, my heart beating hard. If I say something wrong, I'll never hear the end of it.

"Ah, very good." He smiles at me. I shift nervously.

Suddenly, a figure comes and sits next to me. It's nobody I've really talked to, though. It's the boy from District 7. His glance is confidently on the Capitolite.

"Ah, yes. Kendal from 7."

"That's me." Could he have really seen that I was uncomfortable?

"Ally-searching, are we?" Mr. Bundren asks, clicking his pen on his clipboard and watching us intently, studying us.

"Of course. I'm surveying my options." I don't know if his confidence is real or faked.

"I would hope so. Especially after you lost your mentor. What exactly happened there, eh?"

I feel my eyes widen slightly, glancing at them in surprise. But it appears as if Diesel's completely forgotten about me, holding Kendal's stare, neither of them budging. Ice blue against the synthetic moss green of Kendal's.

"Adler was disrespecting Cobra's pronouns," he says, his voice not even shaking and laced with a sort of defiance. "I refused to be mentored by someone who blatantly chooses to bully and disrespect another human being. No matter what kind of person they are. They deserve respect."

"Ballsy of you indeed," muses Mr. Bundren.

"Not ballsy. Just necessary."

"Seems to be a sensitive issue?"

"It's just a matter of decency and respect," says Kendal irritably.

"Interesting. You certainly are headstrong."

"About matters like that, of course I am."

"So," Mr. Bundren breaks the intense stare-off by glancing back at me. "You're considering teaming up with Edgard here?"

"It's a definite possibility." He speaks as if we'd had a proper conversation before. We haven't, and I know by the look on the Capitolite's face that he knows it, but I feel extremely grateful that Kendal jumped in the conversation for me. I quickly nod in agreement.

"Interesting," Mr. Bundren says, putting his pen in his mouth. "You must've seen him training with his scythe, no?"

"I've been plenty observant," he says, flipping some of the dark, green-streaked hair out of his eyes.

"Of course you have. Well, I wish you both the best of luck in your training and look forward to talking to you again."

"Thanks for your time," I say. I don't know where it comes from, I guess I've always just been taught to be polite. There's no good reason on earth I should be thanking him, he's designed the Arena that could very well be my place of death! I kick myself for saying it, but Mr. Bundren just cracks a smile.

"May the odds be ever in your favor, my dear boy." He walks away to talk to some other tributes.

I turn to Kendal. "Hey, th-thanks for jumping in there. You're a life saver."

"No problem," he says. "I noticed you looked kind of distressed."

"I hate having them breathe down our throats," I say.

"Me too," he sighs.

"Is that true? About you losing your mentor?"

"Yes. It's true. Anyways, I'll leave you to eat." He picks up his tray.

"You can stay here, if you like!" I offer. I might be getting myself into trouble here, chatting with him and promising to see Raoul later, but I can't just let him go eat alone.

"Oh. Thank you." He smiles at me, and my heart thumps. He has a cute smile.

I quickly get to eating, knowing that it's going to be a long afternoon and evening.

~.~.

-Kade, D9M-

I sit awake, though there are about two hours until I formally have to get out of bed. I sit in my bed, knowing I'm not going to get back to sleep. I turn the TV on to distract me, and watch the reruns of the 36th Games that they play, featuring the homeless boy from District 3 who eventually becomes the Victor and suddenly has everything.

If he can do it, so can I, I tell myself. I watch the happenings on the TV as some kind of way to distract myself from the fact that I'm going to have to live this eventually. For now, I just have to survive the week with James and the mentors squaring off.

Lately, things in the District 9 compartment have been kind of… Tense.

James, our escort, has refused to associate with us when either of the mentors are away, and neither Karima nor I would really like to be alone with James.

I know I shouldn't, but I can't help but keep an eye on Karima. She's young, and she's afraid. I know she's doing her best. The thought of an innocent, young girl alone in a room with a monster like James is a scary one. I have to make sure she doesn't have to go through that. She's already going to be thrown into a fight to the death, after all.

I shouldn't be so protective, maybe, but it's not like I'm going to ally with the girl. I'm looking for allies that are more capable than that. But… She's just a little girl, forced to deal with so many emotions at once. Maybe 15 is too young, but to me it is. Especially with her. She seems to be slightly OCD, throwing a bit of a fit when Sunnoria unknowingly set the volume to 33. She's just a kid that deserved so much better than this. She still carries around a bunny stuffed animal, for heaven's sakes! What kind of person would be rooting for this girl to die!?

I sigh and run a hand through my hair, the bangs now beige and gross. I still can't get used to seeing those bright, practically glowing orange eyes in the mirror. Almost reminds me of James's red ones. Now that's a scary thought. Ending up like James.

We all eat breakfast together, James on the other side of the room. I keep glancing at Karima, who silently brings food up to her mouth and doesn't talk. I feel the eyes of my mentor, Gabriel, on me, and go back to eating the waffle and bacon and toast and eggs they've piled my plate with.

"Come on, dear," Sunnoria says, when Karima's done eating, "Let's get downstairs."

I get up but Gabriel doesn't.

"Go on, we'll catch up with you," he says. Sunnoria nods gravely, gently patting Karima's back as they get on the elevator. James gets up and goes to the elevator as well, throwing a glare behind his shoulder that gives me chills. He's still mad at Gabriel for sassing him on the train.

"Uh, am I-"

"Kade, have a seat." I swallow hard and nod, obediently taking a seat. Am I in trouble or something?

"I notice you're keeping an eye on young Karima."

I nod a bit. "Of course. She's my District partner."

"You must be careful about that," warns the 61st Victor.

"I'm not going to put myself in danger for her sake," I say, thinking about Sophia. She's really all I have left, but I'm also all she has left. Without me, she doesn't have anyone to fall back on. She needs me and you bet your ass I'm going to fight to get back to her. The riches and luxuries are nothing compared to getting back home, to where I belong.

Gabriel snaps me out of my daydream. "You are going to become attached to this girl."

"I guess it's an older brother instinct-"

"No," he says gravely.

"Excuse me?"

"No." He sighs and puts his fork down. "Kade, you have to understand something about the nature of the Games. The Games are not the place for that. They are not the place for emotions, for these older brother instincts of which you speak. People are going to have to die. She is going to have to die. They are all going to have to die if you want to see your home, your family, your friends again." I bite my tongue, resisting the urge to inform him that I don't have a family anymore. He continues. "Once you get in there, you can't be human any more, not if you want to get out. People become monsters the moment the glass falls away and to survive, you've got be willing to be a monster too."

"No." I refuse to believe it. "You can win the Games without being a monster, it's happened before."

"When?" he fires back.

"Er… The rerun of the 36th Games played, he wasn't a monster."

"He wasn't. Then he left that girl to die brutally and did nothing to help her. Becoming a monster is inevitable. It's when that varies."

I swallow a lump in my throat. I try to deny it, but something tells me I should trust my mentor. He calls the elevator, and we both step on. We travel up, probably to pick up someone else before going back down.

"I hope you consider this in your interactions with these people. You either become the monster or the victim, Kade. And I believe you to be a young man with a lot of potential. I would hate to see you become a victim."

We stop at the 10th floor. The escort there has sweet brown eyes and brings her group on, pulling her high ponytail of brown tighter.

"Good morning," she says politely.

"Morning," says Gabriel, the graveness out of his tone. Both mentors stand to the side. Zander Smith glares at the escort in distaste, seeming pretty gruff. The girl seems to me to be pretty cold herself. Neither of them radiate the supposed likable hospitality of the livestock District.

The boy fidgets nervously, but Rachel seems confident.

"Top of the morning to you Kade," she says politely.

"Hey Rachel."

Gabriel bumps me. I shake him off, knowing that I may need an ally and it's better to be on a volunteer's good side than her bad. I feel Aleah Meyers's eyes on me, though. Rachel's mentor. Maybe sizing me up. Probably. That's a mentor's job, after all.

"Ready for another day back at it training?" she asks me.

"Yeah, I suppose. I'm still kind of tuckered out from yesterday, though," I say, somehow trying to be tense and relaxed at the same time.

"Me too," she says. "It's damn harder than it looks. I've done some training myself," she says, brushing imaginary dust off her shoulders. "But it was fucking nothing like this."

"I tried to train too," I say. Gabriel bumps me harder, and Aleah gives Rachel and me both a glare. The elevator doors open and Raoul is the first to quickly escape, Gabriel following, giving me a stern look behind his shoulder that roughly translates to "You dense piece of shit, don't you remember what we literally just talked about?!" I shrug at him.

Rachel walks across the training center with her mentor, but gives me a look over her shoulder that roughly translates to "Talk to me later." Or at least I hope it does.

I spent a lot of time on survival yesterday, so today I hope to even it out by learning some combat. I go over to the fighting station first, confident that I'll be able to learn quickly after spending so much time learning from and training with Sophia. I spend some time learning proper technique from a trainer before putting it into practice.

I fight hard and put a lot of effort in, knowing that at any second I could have any number of Capitolite eyes on me, and I need them to know that I mean business and I'm not going to accept anything less than victory. Not only for my living friend, Sophia, but also for my family, for my sister Lydia, who was wronged in the Games… I notice Iridesce by her magenta hair and glare her way. It was her mentor that took my sister's life.

I get knocked over in my second of distraction and am reminded of the valuable lesson that in a fight, one second of distraction can cause the tide to turn completely. I can't hate Iridesce because of what her mentor did to Lydia. But I can't help it. After all, I have to be a monster, right? Gabriel'd tell me to let that vengeance be my fuel.

Lydia isn't the only one I'm fighting for, though. My mother, who died soon after Lydia, my sister Gabriella who feel of pneumonia soon after. I have plenty of people to fight for.

When James said we had no chance because of where we were from, I wanted to kill him. I stopped myself, but I wanted to strangle him. That has nothing to do with it. I am strong, District 9 has had its share of Victors, and I'm going to win. I let that spite drive me in the fighting, and the trainer seems impress when I am able to subdue him.

"Good job," he says.

"Thanks." I release him and thank him again for his help before going to try out a weapon. I feel eyes on me and notice Karima looking my way. I want to talk to her, or give her some kind of reassuring look, but Gabriel's words play around in my head, and I turn around, trying to let go of the big brotherly instincts I have.

I pick up a sword and feel a light tap on my shoulder.

"Hey there," Rachel grins at me.

"Hi," I say, adjusting my grip on the sword.

"I saw you fighting over there. I was chatting with the boy from 11, but he didn't care much for me. I'm impressed, though, you fought pretty fucking well."

"Thanks," I say, glancing over at her. "Do you kiss your mother with that mouth?" I tease.

"I would," she says, seeming bitter, "If I had my mother."

"You… You don't."

"You're holding your sword wrong," she says, adjusting my grip.

"Oh, thanks."

"Mhm. Anyways, yeah. My parents were killed in an uprising when I was little."

"Oh. That's a shame. I'm an orphan, too."

"Yeah?" She winks, "Damn, I knew I liked you." I try not to grimace, the Gabriel in my head yelling something about being a monster.

I start focusing on how to use the sword. Rachel does really well with it, probably because she spent some time there yesterday and she said she trained back home… She's kind of like girl me.

"If you're wondering about my guns, doll," she says, gesturing to her arms, "I work at a butcher's. Lost a sis to the fucking Games already, the brother married away."

"I… Lost a sister to the Games too." I kick myself for saying it. It's just so weird that our lives are so… Pareallel. I know I shouldn't get to know her, that I've already gotten to know too much to kill her with a clean conscience, but I can't help it. Gabriel's smart, but I can judge for myself.

"Oh." We stay in silence, both of us swinging swords. I wonder why she volunteered if she lost her sister already. I wonder what prompted her to do it.

Rachel swings her sword, but continues the conversation. "It fucking sucks ass, doesn't it?" she asks, striking a dummy with a surprising amount of force.

"It really fucking sucks ass," I agree, letting my spite guide me as I start to attack the dummy. I can't imagine the dummy being a life, a real life like my sisters', mother's, I can't imagine it. For now, though, I can make the fake dummy bleed and pretend that when it gets down to it I'll actually be able to be a monster like Gabriel said.

Rachel strikes at the dummy, and I do the same until I feel satisfied that I can make it work. After that, I continue to hop stations. Occasionally I lock eyes with Rachel, who winks at me and causes me to roll me eyes, although I don't mind. She's fun and playful, sure, but friendly. Too friendly, probably. I'm too friendly, that's for sure. I'm gonna be roasted by Gabriel tonight in the compartment.

We keep training until lunch. I try to prevent from checking on Karima, but every once in a while I accidentally notice her and then feel relieved that at least she's safe. She seems to be learning, she's been talking to some people I'm pretty sure. I think I see her with that 15-year-old from District 6, and she even talks to a few that are older than her.

Lunch time comes around and I get my food and sit at a table far away from Karima, resisting the temptation to check on her and ask how her training is going. A tray plops down in front of me, and Rachel takes a seat across from me.

"Hey," she says.

"Hey."

"How's your surviving been going there, Hun?"

"Fine," I say, putting some food in my mouth. "You? Try to answer without the use of the word fucking."

She laughs a bit. "Fine. It's going damn well."

I sigh. She smiles sweetly at me. "Technically didn't say fucking."

"Yeah yeah." I wave a hand dismissively, cracking a smile. I shouldn't be letting her make me smile like this, and I know it damn well. I shouldn't be letting her in like this. She shouldn't be my friend, because in less than a week, we'll be pit against each other in a fight to the death. I can't let my guard down.

"So, are we gonna ally or what, Doll?" she picks at the acrylic nails they put on her.

"Oh." Gotta give her credit for being forward with it. "Sure. I'd like that."

"Nice." She grins at me, and I return the smile. The Gabriel in the back of my head is less than satisfied, but I honestly think that having a partner in survival for a while will do me good.

"Mhm."

We eat, in silence. Santana Villanueva spots us and comes over, sitting by us.

"So, Kade and Rachel. Nine and Ten." She flips a couple of papers on her clipboard.

"That's right," I say. Rachel nods.

"You've both found your niche areas, haven't you?" she flips her scrunched black ponytail over her shoulder.

Both of us nod. "I've had kind of a rough upbringing. I can deal with rough," Rachel says.

"Me too," I say.

"So I've heard. You're going to ally, then?" she asks. I put some more food in my mouth.

"That's right," I say.

"Just made it official," Rachel nods.

"Interesting." She looks slightly as if she doubts how long it will last. "You've found you have many similarities, then, I assume?"

We exchange a look. These guys must do their research.

"Yeah," Rachel says, swallowing food at the same time. Not exactly polite, but Ms. Villanueva doesn't seem to mind.

"It was very interesting to us as well. I think they will either prove your biggest strength or your ultimate downfall as a team."

"It'll be a strength," Rachel says, "I just know it."

"For your sakes, I do hope it is. For the sake of the show, though… I must say I hope not." She stands up. "Thank you for your time, then. May the odds be ever in your favor." She walks away.

"Well, she's just a fucking joy, ain't she?"

I nod a bit, trying not to doubt my decision. I can't get attached to Rachel, we can't be friends. We have to stay curt and at least somewhat of a mystery to each other. I have to keep remembering that.

"We should divide and conquer, learn as much as humanly possible."

"Right." I nod. We get up to put our trays away. I look at the Career pack. Iridesce sits with Callum and Maggie, and Nautica from 8, and Briella from 7. They finish soon after and put their trays back, and we're back at training.

"You have to be a monster," says the Gabriel inside my head. "You're making a mistake!"

"I'll figure it out," I mutter to myself desperately, "I need an ally to survive with for a while, that's all we are." For some reason it's easier to believe when I say it out loud. Maybe that's because it feels less like making hopeless excuses that way. "I'm not making a mistake. I'll figure it out. I have to figure it out."

I think about Sophia. I have to get back home to Sophia. I still have to avenge my sister. Then again, how am I going to kill Iridesce alone when she has her Careers? Alliances have their pros and cons, but I'm determined to have more pros than cons with this one.

I have to be a monster, I have to fight, I have to kill. But I'm not going to be able to do most of that alone. I'll need a partner in crime, if only for a bit.

I just have to make sure that I don't entangle myself with Rachel too much. We just need to stay curt, though trusting.

I can do it. I know what I'm doing. This isn't a mistake.

Maybe it's inevitable that I become a monster.

But I do have the power to put it off as long as possible. And I intend to use that power to its fullest.

~.~.

A/N: Guess who's sick AGAIN and stayed up past 11 to finish this chapter? This bitch. Guess who also has no regrets about that? THIS BITCH.

I hope you're liking the characters more now that they're less backstory reapings and more plot. Also, I hope you're enjoying the views of the mentors. If there's any specific characters/interactions/scenes you'd like to see or see more of, tell me! Either through reviews or PMs, let me know and I'll do my best to throw it in!

Okay so how much do you guys ship Rachel/Kade? This isn't the CQ but if you wanna answer you can XD I'm sorry, I didn't mean for them to be that shippy. It just kind of happened. Maybe it's just late and I'm seeing things. But let me know what you think!

Chapter Question: Who should Edgar choose to ally with: Kendal or Raoul?

Please let me know how you liked the chapter and any ships, friendships, alliances, fights, animosities, plotlines, etc. that you want to see! I'd love to hear your input!

Also, I'm updating the blog with updates about me and my writing and random stupid shit, and I'm still open for questions for this story if you have anything you want to ask the tributes! Don't be afraid to jump in and participate!

Thanks for reading! See you next time!