"She's come to."

My eyes flutter open and my vision clears, seeing my mentor and her brother hovering over me. Cornelia in front, moving a perfume bottle side to side under my nose. I sneeze.

"She's fine!" They all say in relief, moving away from me. I try to sit up, and I notice the television screen is gone.

"What-"

"You fainted," Gloss explains, pouring himself some wine from the coffee table before the couch, "After…your score."

"I- I missed the others?" I asked stupidly. Cashmere answers with edge in her voice.

"I wrote them all down. So you can look over them. You're going to need to."

She slides a notepad over to me with twenty-four names and numbers in red ink. She walks away to the kitchenette, crossing her arms.

Everyone is quiet. Gloss helps me stand up, smoothing out my hair that has fallen from it's bun to a ponytail. Cornelia looks like she wants to cry when she sees me.

After a long while of uncomfortable silence, we hear a slam. We turn to Cashmere who is angrier beyond sarcasm. She hit the counter with her hand full force, and she didn't wince.

"Damn it, Lillianne! What the hell did you do!"

I stare at her, at a loss for words. "I- I did what you told me to do!" I answer brokenly, stuttering. Gloss sighs and walks away to his room, wine bottle in hand. Cashmere is not satisfied with my answer.

"You sure as hell did not do what I told you! Snow, you got a f-"

"Language!" Cornela shouts indignantly over Cashmere. The previous District One victor gives the escort a glare that could kill her on the spot. Cornelia stares back, but her lip trembles.

"Snow, you got a three. A DAMN THREE!" She punches a box of bread nearby, leaving a hole. Cornelia slaps her forehead.

"That's not coming out of my paycheck," She grumbles. Cashmere had had it.

"Shut the hell up, Cornelia!"

Both my escort and I freeze in our tracks eyes wide. It was not a good idea to get a victor angry.

"A three? No one, and I mean no one, from my District has ever gotten a three. Hell, no one has ever gotten under a seven! But you- A FREAKING THREE!"

She's nearing me dangerously. I start to say incoherent things to save myself.

"Maybe, maybe it's because I'm Snow's granddaughter, maybe they wanted it to be fair- I can still show them what I have in the arena, I mean, no one-"

"Snow, there's no time!" She shouts, waving her hands up. "Tomorrow is individual training and interviews. Then you're on your own in the arena!"

"I- I -"

"Cashmere, Enobaria-"

"Shut up, Cornelia! Snow?"

"I- I don't know what-"

"Cashmere-"

"Cornelia, no one wants to hear it!"

"Cashmere! It's Enobaria. Her kids want Lillianne to go up now."

I turn to Cornelia on the phone, holding it to her ear. Then I turn around, looking at my surroundings, finally noticing we're missing a tribute.

"Where's Demetrius?" I ask quietly. Cashmere glares at me.

"He's trying to keep you alive." She spits at me. "Go. The roof. They're all waiting for you."

I gulp. "All?"

"Why yes. Your Career group. Want me to tell you their scores?" Her voice is high in anger. She drills them to me as if she's memorized them.

"Cybele, Nine. Garrett, Ten. Marcel, Seven. Dezidora, Seven."

Nothing lower than a seven. And I had gotten a three? I was starting to fear my meeting in a few minutes. Then I pause.

"And…and Demetrius?"

Cashmere scoffs, like she's laughing but insanely. She slaps something off the counter.

"Demetrius got an Eleven."

My eyes widened. I wavered a bit, but my feet are glued to the ground. That was not good.

"Go ahead, Lillianne." Cashmere says with fake sweetness. "Go talk to your friends. You just went from being the most interesting tribute to being the loser."

When she says 'friends', I gulp again. I turn on my heel towards the elevator and walk silently. I press the button for the roof, but the door does not close fast enough when I hear Cashmere curse loudly and break a glass object.

The elevator slides open silently, and I feel the cool air of outside. I look down and thank the heavens I was wearing a long sleeve shirt. A green, long sleeve shirt and slim khakis keep me warm as I walk forward hesitantly. I'm not sure who'll be here. I'm not even sure if they're here yet. The latter is answered when I hear Cybele shouting.

"To hell with that!" She shouts angrily. I stop in my tracks. It seems this 'meeting' has started without me.

I can barely see Cybele in the darkness, and what with me being behind a bush of some sorts. I can see Garrett. I can also see Demetrius. And by the looks of it, Demetrius and Cybele are in the middle of a heated discussion. Garrett is leaning casually against the small veranda, shaking his head. Cybele goes on.

"That girl is going to get us killed! Well, no, but- but she's going to set us back. We're stronger. Faster. Just plain better!" She pushes Demetrius unnecessarily. "Why do we need a weakling like her?"

"Think about it," Demetrius shrieks, "She's President Snow's granddaughter. Imagine the gifts, the sponsors- the feast! May I remind you how filthy rich her grandfather is! He'll probably send her some amazing and expensive gift that will blow Finnick Odair's trident out of the water!"

"And what will she do with that gift! Surely she'll try to win it for her grandpapa." She sarcastically spits. Demetrius sighs.

"We'll kill her anyway. We can just take her stuff."

I tense up everywhere. My body feels like it weighs tons, but I can fall back any second. I was that disposable?

"I thought you liked her, One." Garrett speaks up.

I get a knot in my chest. But before Demetrius can answer, I make my way to the veranda. They can see me now and they can begin this meeting.

"Well, well, well," Cybele remarks in a high voice and pushes Demetrius out of the way, "If it isn't our three-scoring ally, Lillianne."

I don't answer. I see Cybele go to Garrett and lean against the veranda like him. She crosses her arms.

"So, anything to say for yourself?" She says.

Again, I have nothing to say. Cybele scoffs.

"Wow…"

"Cybele," Demetrius says as a warning. She puts up her hands in defense.

"No, no," She replies, "I just wanna know how Princess here is holding up knowing she got the lowest score in the bunch."

My eyes flit up to the girl with black hair covering her forehead. Instead of it being in it's strict ponytail, the black strands went down her back and shoulders, up to her chest. She wore a tight black shirt made of stretchy material and slim jeans. This makes her look a little intimidating, at least to me. I clench my teeth.

"Since when are scores judgment on tributes?" I say accusingly. "What about Johanna Mason from Seven? What if I wanted to get that three? What if I meant to do it, huh?"

I'm a little surprised at my audacity, but I realize what I've said means I can't take it back. I play along with my new excuse. Cybele's eyes get wider.

"So you're hiding things?" She puts her arms beside her, holding her body up. "I thought allies had to build some sort of trust."

"Oh, Cybele," I chuckle, again a surprise, "We're Careers. Since when do we have trust? Once we all get to the final days, its every tribute for himself."

Garrett laughs breathily. "She's right."

Cybele shoots him a dirty look. Garrett shrugs. Demetrius clears his throat.

"So you see? Lillianne is a key player to the games. She's got…stuff up her sleeve."

He puts his arm around me and I almost shake him off, but I remember our facade- we 'like' each other or whatever. I nod encouragingly.

Cybele doesn't look like she's buying it, but she sighs. "Well, Lilly, I can't wait to see what surprises you have in store for us."

She gets up and slaps Garrett and he laughs at the action, following her like a lost puppy. They leave us swiftly. I'm about to leave too when Demetrius grabs my shoulder.

"Wait, Lillianne-"

"I have scores to go over," I say quickly, turning away. He doesn't leave me alone.

"No, look, Lillianne, I want to talk-"

"I. Have. Scores." I reply, yanking away from him. "Besides, Cashmere is furious with me. I have to make peace my mentor if I want to train tomorrow-"

"Lilly!" He pulls me harshly and makes me face him. I'm so close to him I can hear his jagged breathing. Then I know what he's going to do.

"No. Don't."

I push myself away from him before he can even pull me in. His eyes soften in confusion. I rub my elbow.

"Just…please." I plead quietly, "I can't."

He looks down and nods in understandment. I push some stray hair out of his forehead and his brown eyes meet mine in this simple gesture.

"Tomorrow are the interviews." I remark absently. I put my hand down to my side as he nods.

"We need to do well," He says. I chuckle.

"I need to do well," I reply. pushing him playfully. He laughs as well.

"Well, you'll already look gorgeous," He says. Then he blushes and takes it back. "I mean, Cinna's going to make something awesome, I know it."

I give him a grateful smile. "Well, I really do have to check the scores and talk to Cashmere."

He sighs but lets me go. But before I do-

"Wait."

I turn back and he grabs my wrist. He leans over and I freeze as I feel his lips on my cheek. Gently, he pulls away and looks down.

"Good luck tomorrow." He mumbles.

I nod absently. "You too."

I walk away to the elevator, and I look forward to tomorrow, the final day before we get shipped to our death.

So I had to make it count if I wanted to live.

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