The room empties slowly, and when Danny and I are left alone I relax visibly. I hated pretending to like the Careers, sitting at their table, laughing at their cruel jokes. And it is only then when Danny forgives me, I suppose, when he sees that I hate them as much as he does, as I always have. I pull him closer to me and rest my forehead in his hair, it doesn't smell of bread and sunlight like it used to, the scent has been wearing away to leave one of shampoo and sweat. I don't like it, when I run my hands through it no white flour powder sticks to my fingers.

Minutes later his name is called through the speakers and he stands up more steadily than I know he feels. "Knock them dead, boss." I encourage him, and he shoots me a shy smile before he disappears through the doors. I'm left alone to nibble on my nails, which I know will infuriate my prep team in two days when they have to get me ready for the interview. But I don't care.

I hear nothing, and I don't know why I expected to hear something. Maybe a round of cheers to whatever snares Danny is tying would have relaxed me, but nothing but silence surrounds me, that is until my own name is called and I jump startled. I walk to the door and take in the room before me. It has changed little from the last time I trained there, only that now it is empty and there are obvious signs of the people that have shown off their talents before me. Danny's is right there, complicated snares and traps that Gale thought him. Once again the town boy pops into my head the same moment the Seam boy does. I look up to the Gamemakers and realize I only have the attention of a few, maybe less than a quarter of the ones that stand in the observing room, the rest seem to be either drunk or on their way there.

Still I force myself to think I have every single eye on me and walk to the archery station, I stroke the bows and panic slightly, they are so different from the one my father carved. I string it and grab an arrow. I aim and I fail.

I hear some laughter behind me and I stare blankly to the arrow that seems to be mocking me, I cannot remember the last time I failed like that. I convince myself that it is only because of the bow, I am not used to it as I am to the one back at home. I shoot a few arrows to warm up and realize how stupid I was to try and show off by standing in the middle of the room.

Still, I return to the same spot and aim again, this time I shot the dummy right through the heart, but instead of listening to the cheers I turn around to realize I've lost the attention of everyone up there. Something boils inside of me, something similar to the feeling I had last night when I realized how many right Danny and everyone had to be mad at the Gamemakers. I'm raging too.

I don't even notice when I aim up at them, I only see their reactions as my arrow hits the apple in a pork's mouth, sticking it to the wall. I bow at them and mutter. "Thank you for your consideration." Before tossing the bow and arrow away from me and dismissing myself, walking towards the elevator.

For the second time in the week the ride up seems more nauseating than exhilarating.

When I arrive to my floor Danny is making Effie and Haymitch laugh as he retells his own private session, Portia and Cinna are in there too and they smile proudly at Danny. "I killed it Katniss! I did it!" The kid beams at me, and goes on saying that he even had time to show off his knives skill before he was dismissed. But he no longer has Haymitch's attention, his wise grey eyes are fixated on me while Danny keeps chattering excitedly like the kid he is, as if he has forgotten that in two days we will be thrown into an arena to kill each other with the same knives he impressed the Gamemakers with.

"What the hell did you do sweetheart?" Haymitch demands, and I wonder how obvious my expression was. He is angry, and everyone turns to me. I have to resist the urge to run away crying. "I shoot an arrow to the Gamemakers." I reply flatly, knowing there is no use in lying.

Portia gasps and Effie seems on the verge of fainting, the color drains out of Cinna and Danny's faces. "I mean not at them, in their direction I guess... they were not paying attention to me, they were drunk and eating and I got angry and shot an apple in the pork's mouth." I explain, my hands fiddling.

The silence falls heavy around us and I wonder if Danny has lost all hopes in me being capable of saving him, I only now think of the repercussions of my actions. I think of how they will punish me for what I did, will they torture my family back at Twelve? Will they make sure I never get out of that arena alive? Not that I had hopes of that happening though.

To my surprise the silence is shortly after broken by Haymitch, that blurts out laughing like a madman. He laughs so hard he has to sit down in one of the couches and as soon as he does the mood seems to lighten. Cinna and Danny join on his laughter and even Effie has to suppress a smile. "Wh-what were their expressions like?" Haymitch asks amused and I tell him about the shock in everyone's faces. "One of them even stumbled back into the punch bowl. " I say, which starts a new round of laughter.

I relax and join them. What can they do to me? I'm already a few days away from facing my death, they cannot reveal what happened inside the sessions, my family is far away and safe and I'm already in the Gamemaker's hands. Whatever they throw back at me I can handle.

We have dinner and then sit in the living room to watch the scores, the four first tributes all score a nine, which is outstanding. The foxfaced girl from five scores an eight and the mountain boy from Eleven, his name is Thresh, scores a ten. What did he do to outshine the Careers? I don't know, but I also know it doesn't help to my intentions of keeping Danny alive. To the Capitol's surprise the two 12 year olds of this year's Hunger Games -the girl from 12, Rue, and my very own Danny- manage to score an eight. The small gathering in our floor showers Danny with praises and congratulations.

I know there are only two options, either they give me the average score I deserve for my first throw and the rest of my performance, or they give me an extremely low score as a response for my anger-indulged actions. But as an eleven crosses the screen to join my picture my jaw hangs open. In the distance I hear the TV presenter talking excitedly about my score, apparently it is the first eleven in the past five years. My team cheers and I manage to close my mouth into a smile.

"I guess they liked your temper." Cinna offers as they pass around flutes of champagne, but my heart beats too loud for me to hear the rest of the talking. I look down at Danny who is laughing with Portia and I smile.

Maybe it is true I can actually do it. Maybe I can bring him back home.