Disclaimer: I don't own The Hunger Games, or any original characters.

A/N: I'd just like to say a big thank you to everyone who's submitted tributes and who has reviewed this story anyway :) it means a lot. I'm finding it interesting having to switch from points of view but because of vital character development I'm going to limit my main tributes to four. So far it's obviously Bron, Pacha and maybe - just maybe - Lio. You'll have to find out. If you have any ideas for the arena of twists in the story line I would love to hear them. Anyway, here's the next chapter...

Chapter 2 -

Figments of Reality

Pacha Lawson's POV

We were on a shuttle train out of the city, heading towards the first district. We'd been told last night at the makeshift Justice Building (which was really an old town house) that we would be touring around the districts for the next fortnight before we were actually let loose in the arena. Apparently it would give the viewers a better feel for us all.

"This is pointless!" the lone red head exclaimed as the train rocked, hurtling along the tracks. She hadn't really shut up since we had left. "I mean, if it's not enough that they're doing this but they want to parade us in front of their stupid people too? It's on outrage. My father will never let them-"

She was cut off by the blonde girl I had stood next to on the stage, "Your father has no say now, so shut up already. None of us can do anything."

That last comment led them into a heated argument - which I generally ignored. I was in one of the back rows of seating, pointedly away from my fellow tributes. I didn't want to talk to them, didn't want to hear their panic as well as see it. I just wanted to be in the arena already so I could shut them up. I mean, couldn't the girls see that we were all nervous about the situation? That we all knew only one person on this shuttle, aside from the guards, would be alive this time next year?

I looked down at my violet palms. The colour had faded slightly. At least my hair was still breathtakingly bright though, which was a plus. The only plus at the moment.

The red head's voice raised another octave and I could no longer take it. "Will you be QUIET?" I shouted, half-surprised and half-pleased by how harsh my tone had come across.

She looked at me with round eyes and said, "Why? Why should I be quiet?"

"Because otherwise I'm going to knock you out," I told her. She didn't take well to this information.

"I'm killing you first, Grape Boy."

I smirked at her in response and gave a short, bitter laugh, "Oh, I'm just dying to see you try."

One of the guards coughed, disrupting the argument.

That was when we noticed the youngest of us, a boy called Tiddo Murdoch, had started sobbing again. I almost, almost felt sorry for the kid, and if I had felt a little less sorry for myself I might've even told him so. It seemed my comfort was needed though. The pretty-looking blonde boy had already got up and planted himself next to Tiddo.

"It'll be OK," I heard him say and I fought back a snort.

He was actually offering the poor kid hope. What an absolute ass-hole.

I rolled my eyes, focus drifting from the scene. That was when I realized I hadn't been the only one watching them. The girl that had been Selected second-to-last was watching them intently, almost as if she could benefit from their conversation. She looked scared out of her wits, too.

The train jolted again and I swore under my breath, having to grab at the upholstery of the seat in order to steady myself. At least I didn't feel sick any more, considering the fact that I'd practically thrown up my guts and a whole lot else yesterday. I had barely slept all night. I was too angry at myself for being ill in front of a live audience; none of the past tributes had ever sunk that low.

Tiddo let out a wave of new sobs and even the guard's glare was softening now. Couldn't they see he was only a kid? Couldn't they see that I too was only a kid? Obviously the Districts were all totally blind.

I tried to focus my attention on the tinted windows. We were rolling through the mountains now, heading even further away from the Capitol. Once upon a time I would've seen thought of the scenery as pretty but back then I'd never had any reason to leave home. Mom and Dad were always so adamant that their was no reason to leave the Capitol and no reason to give anywhere else, or anywhere else much thought. I wish we'd gone travelling in retrospect.

My family had always lived in the centre of the city, in a nice, trendy town house. Nothing like the one they'd sent us inside to say our goodbyes. "We're smack in the middle, so that means everything revolves around us," is what my Grandfather had always said. For much of my life I had thought he'd been right. Until I had been old enough to watch and enjoy the Games, I'd never even reckoned there was anything else but the Capitol.

It amused me slightly to think of how wrong my upbringing had been. If I'd been born in a District then I most likely wouldn't have been in this position now. Or, maybe I still would have.

"Are you OK?" the scared-looking girl had perched herself on the seat opposite me and I hadn't even noticed. She was watching me with big blue eyes.

I replied, "I'm just peachy, thank you for asking."

"Do you have a thing about fruit?" She asked, the corners of her lips rising slightly.

The train rocked again, and I inadvertently flinched.

"What are you talking about?"

She grinned at me, a notably pretty action. "You feel peachy and you look like a plum."

Oh. "I think I look more like a grape actually," I told her. "I'm Pacha."

"My name's Bron. D-do you think you'll win?" I blinked at her.

"I don't know... I mean, I hope I will. I can't wait to kill that Flint girl either way," I said and Bron's smile faltered slightly. She didn't seem like the murderous type, I judged. "You?"

"Never in a million years," she said, her voice almost too quiet to hear.

"Then shouldn't you be sitting with Blondey - over there?" I gestured to the boy next to Tiddo and realized I couldn't even remember his name. I watched as Bron looked him up and down, a strange remorse in her eyes. Did she know him? I wondered.

"He doesn't seem to like me very much," she said. "He doesn't seem to like anything."

"He likes Tiddo," I noted. "Maybe he's just... That way inclined?"

We both laughed and, for a minuscule second, everything seemed alright and the Hunger Games were just some far away figment of reality.

"I hope I die first," she said suddenly, breaking the good atmosphere into a thousand little shards that I'd probably never be able to piece back together. A few other tributes had glanced in our direction because of what she'd said, curiosity plain on their features. Thanks a bunch, I snapped at her mentally. "I don't want to stick around long enough to see how everyone here dies."

"You're like a ray of sunshine, aren't you?" I shot back, causing her to flush.

Bron didn't reply, instead just returning to her other seat. It didn't matter that I felt kind of bad. She wouldn't have made a good ally anyway, considering all she had as an advantage was a death wish. The most I could've used her for was bait.

The train shuddered on the tracks and I glanced out the window again, noting that we were out of the mountains now. In the distance, I could just about make out the dots of civilisation. I realized we were only a few dozen miles from District 1. We'd be in the train for another hour (give or take) and I'd made the majority of my companions hate me.

Nice work, Pacha.

Maybe Bron wasn't the only one with a potential death wish.

Lio Kerim's POV

The guards weren't exactly kind to us as we were dispersed off of the shuttle train.

A crowd had even gathered outside the station, the majority of them joining in with jeering and shouting. A lump of fear rose in my throat but I pushed it back, tightening my grip on Tiddo's shoulder. If things got even worse then I had to make sure he'd be OK. I'd promised after all.

See, Tiddo and I had lived in the same neighbourhood of the Capitol growing up. Our parents had been friends and for years he was the vassal for my hand-me-downs. Life back then had been incredibly simple and the most I was asked to protect him from were bullies at school. "If the worst comes to be... Please make sure he survives," is what his mother had asked me two days before the Reaping. Sadly, it had and now my goal wasn't to even survive; I had to make sure he did instead.

The lump in my throat seemed to explode as something hit the back of my head with a crack. I spun round instantly, furious. The broken, oozing shell of an egg lay a few feet behind me and very quickly it was joined by others.

Some of the girls even screamed as we were covered in the contents of these eggs, however I just simply glared out at the crowd. They had to remember that we'd never treated their people like this in the Games, hadn't they? As another egg hit my shirt, I knew that it wouldn't have matter anyway. These people had decades of vendettas against us - and what we namely stood for. The Capitol.

I looked around as we were hurried through the streets and towards the town square, desperate to see some sort of escape.

"C'mon," Tiddo tugged at me and I stumbled after him. The guards were more or less pushing us now, their hands much too rough.

The buildings of District 1 weren't too similar from our own. They didn't even look that destroyed or ruined by the rebellion, instead they actually looked... Fresh. We were led to the freshest-looking one of all, a large sandstone building in front of the town square.

"This should be interesting," one of the other male tributes, a guy I had known from school called Oliva Blackfoot, muttered to no one in particular. "How much worse can things get?"

I shot him a look and he returned it with a half-hearted smirk. He knew as well as I did just how much worse things could potentially get.

There was a soft buzzing of white noise as someone climbed down the steps of the sandstone building. He was short, aged man with a mess of gray hair, and if it hadn't been for the authority he seemed to possess over the people from District 1, then I doubt I would've even noticed him. It was as if everyone had fallen quiet.

He smiled now into the microphone and began to talk. "We welcome you to our District, tributes. I apologize for any unruly behaviour suggested by our populace. You are to be shown into my home, cleaned up and interviewed. You may even stay to dine but we understand the fast-paced schedule you all now face leading up to the Games. Again, welcome."

I decided I didn't like him. He was so fake it was unbelievable. Fake words, fake smile, and what I was sure was a fake toupee. I wondered if we were really even welcome.

We were quickly led into the sandstone building - a place I had guessed was this man's home. He was in front of us, whispering to one of his consorts about something. I half wanted to know what the topic of their conversation was but then, it wouldn't be important to me either way. Just victory babble, I suppose.

Tiddo frowned up at me and I followed his gaze to the office at the end of the hallway. It was completely empty and that was where we were headed. I gave him a reassuring shrug and glanced behind me at the rest of tributes.

Vanessa was complaining to any one who would listen, a boy called Rico and a handful of others were hanging back with pensive scowls, and Bron - the girl who'd mistakenly grabbed my hand before the Reaping - was looking down at her feet as we trudged onwards.

No one else had seemed to notice yet that the room was a dead end. Perhaps Oliva had been right about things getting interesting.