"Oh, how lovely it is to finally meet you two!"

As soon as we got to the platform of the train, trying hard to avoid Demetrius's gaze and trying not to look back at the District I finally decided to accept as home, Cornelia Right embraced both of us in a bear hug. She strangled us, and I was amazed by this woman's strength as she even lifted us both. She took a step back and surveyed us.

"Well, Lillianne, I can tell you that you have a very gorgeous face." She said, stroking my cheek. I flinched at its touch, feeling the her tinted light pink hand on me. "And those eyes!" She added, scampering back. Then she looked at Demetrius. "Brown hair…green eyes….but that bone structure! You two certainly are quite the lookers this year!" She squeals, and just as she is to add something else, the train roars to life, telling us its time to go. I sigh, looking down, then look up at Demetrius as he shoves me, his face nodding. I shake my head and follow behind a very spastic Cornelia.

We enter the train, one similar to the one I rode on the way to live here, and Demetrius gasps. I look up as well, but am not phased as the memories from my trip here when I was young flourish in my mind. The train is covered in velvet wall and carpet, with chandeliers in the main dining room and living area. The kitchen, a few feet away from us, is open, and we see about ten wait staff there cooking up a storm. We look over to another living area, much smaller than the official one, and see who we rule out as our mentors: Cashmere and Gloss.

The brother-sister duo look up at us, acknowledging us. Cashmere gives me a wink as I stare at how similar we are dressed. Cornelia speaks again as I feel the doors behind me shut.

"These are your mentors, Cashmere and Gloss Posen," She says, leading us to their area, "And they have requested having a word with you. Alone."

At this, Cornelia curtsies and bounces away to the kitchen, grumbling to herself about how she hasn't eaten since seven in the morning. Demetrius and I stand side by side, and our two mentors stand.

"So," Gloss begins, his voice surprisingly young. "We have only one question for you two."

"Together…." Cashmere adds, "Or separate."

I understand fast. Quickly, I am forced to make a choice. I can choose to be a team with this boy, this boy I clearly despise. I could team up with him, and win, together. But I could team up with him, and he'd kill me.

Or, I can do this on my own. And I can show others what I'm made of.

You will show everyone what you're made of, and you will show them the great mistake in the odds, and how you beat them.

"Together."

"Alone."

Demetrius and I looked at each other in shock. We repeated ourselves, this time, not clashing our words.

"Together," Demetrius says, elongating each syllable.

"Alone." I say firmly, telling him with a glare that this deal was off.

Gloss coughs to break it up between us. "Alrighty," He sighs, "Undecided. Next order of business."

"The girl, with me." Cashmere briskly declared.

"And the boy with me," Gloss calmly ends. He gestures Demetrius to join him on a chair beside him, and I am led to the back of the train by Cashmere. While I don't see her as she walks in front of me, I can see how she won her games. She was tall, with long and shaped legs and a curvy frame. Her hair was the color of my sister's, only more pure and the color of pure gold. I looked down at my pale blonde hair sitting on my shoulder, scrunching up my nose.

We're brought to a stop, and it seems to be the end of the train. Cashmere turns to me, winks again, then presses some buttons on the right side of us. A door appears, and she leads me in. My eyes widen in wonder.

It's a room made of 75 percent glass, allowing us to see the our surroundings from every angle- except the door, of course. The floor was made of steel, covered in lush carpet, and had an outdoorsy living area with two wicker couches and two wicker love-seats. On the far end was a small table, almost like the one Juniper and my mom had outside to drink tea, with two metal chairs. Cashmere sat in one of those metal chairs, and gestured me to sit in the other. I obliged, smoothing out my skirt.

"So," She says, putting her elbow on the table, "Where do we start?"

I look up at her sheepishly, shrugging. She smiles. "Well, I'm Cashmere Posen."

I nod. "You and your brother were victors back to back."

She raises an eyebrow. "So we're not as ignorant as we look? Wow." She sing songs, and the dig stings. I give her an impassive look.

"Tell me about yourself. Your name?"

"Lillianne Snow."

She freezes, and her eyes widen. "Snow?" She asks, leaning forward.

I nod. "Yes. It's the Snow you're thinking about."

She leans back, taking interest. "The President's granddaughter…. huh." She looks at me with a mischievous glance. "Then we better get you home alive, right?"

"That's the plan," I grumble, crossing my arms. She nods, considering her choices.

"For starters, what's the background with you and the boy?" Cashmere nonchalantly begins again, playing with a strand of her own hair. I scrunch up my nose.

"Not good, is it?" She interrupts before I can say anything. I say nothing.

"Let's not lie to each other, Lillianne." She cuts again, this time watching me. I meet her stare, and she pushes me to speak.

"Alright," I mumble, shuffling in my seat, "Demetrius and I are not on the greatest terms."

She stares at me to continue. I sigh. "He wanted to pull a Katniss/Peeta on me."

She nods, taking this in. She smiles mockingly and chuckles. "It wouldn't have gone far, trust me." She replied. I smiled a bit.

"I guess not."

"Very well, a romance isn't going to get you to win these Games." She presses a button on the table, and a tray with a plate and a drink appears. On the plate was a small steak, and the drink was something fizzy. Three knives and a fork pop up as well. I cock my head to the side.

"What?" She says, flabbergasted, "I haven't eaten since this morning!"

I nod understandingly, and my stomach growls. Cashmere grins. "You hungry?"

I shrug. She presses the button again and the same thing appears before me. I get a whiff of the meat, and close my eyes. Never had I smelled meat this good. Cashmere laughs.

"So, what's your weapon?" She casually asks, cutting the meat with her fork and knife.

I look up at her, confused. "I…what?"

"You know," She continues, food in her mouth, "Your weapon. Sword. Rock. Slingshot. Bow and arrow. I could go on and on."

My weapon? This woman clearly doesn't understand the concept of President Snow's granddaughter.

"I've…I'm not trained…very well." I stutter. She stops chewing, staring.

''But- you're District One. You should have training." She says as-a-matter-of-factly. I shake my head.

"I've only had training in my first and second year of school." I reply, looking down. She puts her utensils down.

"Primary is all you got to?" She accused, "And how long have you been living in District One?"

"I- I moved from the Capitol at three," I stumbled out.

She sighs. "Very well then. But you should at least have picked a preference in second year," She mused aloud. I nod absently, knowing to what she is referring to. My mind wanders off, and I remember what Cashmere is mumbling about on the spot.

It was a cold morning. All of the other kids stood in line with their heads held high, excited for today. I shivered, looking at my uniform: Crimson shorts with a silver stripe on the sides, and a silver tank top with red piping at the neck and sleeves. It seemed like I was the only one freezing.

Our trainer, Second Year Trainer Maerna, walked in front of us, checking us before going into the big kids' gym. She shook her head as she saw me tremble in my spot, but moved on. When she reached the front of the line, she cleared her throat.

"Today is a very important day. As you get older, the Hunger Games will become available to you, and our District is highly honored for having more victors than other Districts. To keep the legacy alive, we train every generation beginning at year one so that when you qualify for the Hunger Games, you will come successful.

"So today," She continues, "Is the day you pick your partner."

Kids around me looked at people next to them, already buddying up. But that's not what Maerna meant. "Not that kind of partner." She pulled out a knife from the pocket of her track pants, twirling it around her fingers. "This kind of partner." With that, she threw the knife at a trunk of a tree behind us. It hit and stuck at the center. Everyone claps.

I was amazed. So in awe, that I was the only one who didn't clap. The way she simply twirled the knife in her hand and threw it right after was amazing in my eyes. I wanted to know. I wanted to know how to do that.

She released us, and the children before me ran into the gym. I followed, seeing the array of weapons before us on a table.

Slingshots, bows and arrows, crossbows, bats, spears, swords, rocks- Everything was there for us to pick.

"Pick a weapon, any weapon," Maerna says behind the awestruck class, "But choose wisely. This will be the weapon you master for the rest of your training."

Everyone lunged to the obvious ones: Swords and bows. Many kids already had an idea what they were going to pick, being that their older siblings already owned weapons. I was lost, standing alone in the back.

My eyes wander from the main table to a smaller table, where only two kids of my class of forty were standing. They were handling short swords, similar to Maerna's, and then it catches my eye.

A silver-blade knife.

I walk slowly to it, in a trance, and pick it up carefully, feeling the leather of the grip and the cool silver blade on my fingers. The blade is dull, because I am not cut when I touch the tip. Again, I am curious.

Looking around me to see if anyone is watching first, I look for a target close enough in range. When I see no one is watching, I try to mimic Maerna's hand movement, but fail, having it fall on the ground. I turn back to see if anyone saw, but everyone was occupied in fighting for their weapons. Maerna was over there as well, breaking up a sword fight.

I picked up the knife, gripping it in my hands, and staring at a target. I wondered if I could make it hit like Maerna's.

Slowly and with one eye closed, I pulled back, aiming at the nearest target. I aimed towards the read circle, and with a grunt, I released.

I blinked, getting out of my trance as I noticed Cashmere's eyes on me. I looked up at her, shaking my head.

"I'm sorry," I mumbled. She looks down at the knives, and then back at me.

"Why were you staring so hard at that knife?" She asked, pointing at the carving knife on her tray. I raise an eyebrow and shake my head. "No I wasn't."

She stares at me for a long while, then smiles. "Well then, you wouldn't mind showing me what you can do with that knife, would you?"

My brow furrows. "But-but I-"

"What did I say about not lying to each other?" She sing singed, pushing the knife towards me. "Besides, if you can't do it, we'll move on."

I stare at the carving knife, unsure of what to do. Cashmere watches me, smiling, but after a while, she sighs and looks away.

"Okay then, let's move-"

Before she can finish that sentence, I grab the knife by it's chrome handle, twirl it in my fingers the way I couldn't do when I was a Second Year, and threw it with such accuracy, I hit the Capitol Seal on the door straight in the center. The knife makes a smacking sound as it reaches the door, and it sticks to it.

Cashmere looks at the knife that was just in my hands land on the seal, and then moves back towards me, eyes wide. I slump back in my seat, crossing my legs. She grins.

"Surprise, surprise. Snow has some fire in there." She wipes her mouth with a handkerchief, then sets it back down.

"You have my full attention now, Miss Snow." She says, leaning back. "Now tell me, can you run?"