Hi, guys! I know what you're thinking: Gasp! Is it…Myrtle? No way! I thought that this SYOT died after she didn't update since July!

Ummm…yeah. Sorry about that. The thing is, my laptop, (which is what I write all my stories on) broke and finally died after being in the process of doing so for many years now. We have a main computer at home, but I feel really self-concious whenever I write my stories using the main computer because everyone's asking me what I'm writing and stuff and I'm one of those people who doesn't feel very comfortable sharing their work with others face to face. (Wow, that was a run-on.) But my point is made. Also, I was in a bit of a rut because although the D6 tributes will have a GREAT story later on, (SPOILERS: you'll cry. Maybe.) neither of their personalities can be really showcased in the reapings. However, I finally tackled Miles' personality and got him down here. Plus, I'm home sick today, which gives me an opportunity to write without people looking over my shoulder. So, here's Miles Fox, created by Meredith "Rose" Wolf, and Ariana Gomez, by tomoyoforever.

District 6: Miles Fox

I wake up. Honestly, I suppose that's a redundant thing to say: it's the morning, duh I'm going to wake up. Except that one time when I slept through the entire day-that was nice. I got to skip school, not like my parents are checking or anything anyway. That's beside the point, though. Today's reaping day, and I have to wake up fairly early to get ready. I have to look my best for the ladies in the Capitol just in case, right?

I run my fingers through my hair so that it has at least some semblance of style. Even if I didn't even try to fix it, it'd look hot anyway, so there isn't really a point except to make it look a different kind of hot.

The reaping's not until eleven, though, and judging by the dusty old analog clock on my wall, I have just enough time to screw around with my friends, sneak back here, and change into my reaping outfit before getting back to the town square. I dress in a tight T-shirt that shows off my muscles and slacks, then warily open the door of my bedroom.

Immediately, the stench overwhelms me and I nearly gag. Mom's crashed on the couch, a bottle still in her hand. A puddle of vomit stews next to her on the couch, and I hold my breath as I pick through the living room. Bits of her puke tangles her long black hair, the same shade as mine. It's disgusting, how helpless she lets herself become…but I got over that a long time ago.

As I tiptoe-run past her, her eyes flutter open, and she looks at me vaguely, like she can't quite place who I am. "Oh, hey…" she slurs, fumbling through her memory for my name, "uh…Frankie?" she questions, with a proud little grin.

Frank's my younger brother, and he hasn't gone by that name since he was five.

I steadfastly ignore her and run out the door. No point in trying to be quiet now, she's awake.

Just as I close the door, I catch a glimpse of my mother's face, red and confused. "No, don't go!" she cries, like a child. She starts to whimper.

I jog off the front step. Honestly, she can be a real pain. It's embarrassing when girls come over.

I'm heading to Phoenix's house. I have a fair amount of admirers at school, but not really any friends. Not any but Phoenix.

When I reach his house, he's milling around the front of his house, people-watching and flirting with the occasional girl that passes by. He sees me, and breaks into a grin.

"Man, where've you been? I've been waiting here for ages, but I knew you'd show up!"

I smirk. "'Course I'd show up. It's a holiday, do you expect I'd stay home?"

We both howl with laughter before taking to the streets.

"So," he asks casually. "What's the word with the ladies?"

"Aw, them?" I roll my eyes. "Shawna was a real bore, not nearly as fun as I thought. Too easy to pick up. I just had to waltz right up to her and ask, and she said yes! No fuss at all. We hung around, then I dumped her a couple days ago."

He nodded sympathetically. "Don't I know it. Though, there is that chick Riley. She looks like she'd be a hard one to get."

"Yeah, but not nearly hot enough."

We go back and forth, discussing girls and school and bits of gossip we picked up, and flirting with the girls we run into, most of whom either shoot us dirty looks or giggle like idiots.

I much prefer the first type, but I'll take who I can get.

After about an hour, Phoenix checks his watch. "I gotta get back, reaping's are gonna start soon."

I shrug. "See ya there, Phoenix!"

"Catch you later, Fox!"

I walk back to my house, slightly afraid to find it in the state that I left it in. However, when I enter, even though the liquor stench is still overpowering, it slightly diminished. My mother is up and stumbling around, and judging by the new stain but lack of puke on the couch, clumsily cleaned up her mess. My brother's sitting at the kitchen table, playing with a bit of sausage still on his plate.

"Miles!" my mother exclaims. She knows my name now, that's a good sign. "When did you leave? Were you out all night again?"

She didn't remember me leaving; I'm not surprised. I don't answer and simply walk into my room. I change into my reaping outfit, a sharp-looking tux, and walk back out the door.

I don't need my parents.

Kids are flowing out of their houses. It's interesting to watch them: some, especially the younger ones, are afraid and trembling. Most try to look casual, but their eyes betray them and their fears are broadcast to the world. A sparse few look like they honestly don't care, or are joking around with friends as they walk to town square.

I wonder what I look like briefly, but then smirk as I answer the question. I look stunning.

The Peacekeepers monitoring the town square prick my finger as I enter, and even though it hurts, I don't flinch. And if I did, I did very briefly.

I shove my way through until I'm standing next to Phoenix. His reddish-brown hair and his height makes him easy to spot in crowds.

"Hey hey," he greets me. "Back again, my bad penny. Did you see that girl over the 16 year old's section? She was totally checking you out."

He points her out to me, and sure enough, she's staring right at me. I shoot her a saucy wink and she blushes.

"Maybe I'll go track her down after the reapings, huh?" I say, and we both laugh.

I briefly glance back and see my parents and brother coming in. Frank checks in at the fourteen year old section, and my mother and father take their places in the back. Sunlight glints off something shiny in my mother's purse, and I know that she's brought her liquor.

The mayor comes onstage, and the crowd shushes. Even though she's the mayor and I'm sure I've had to remember her name for countless stupid tests, I still don't know it, and I still don't get how knowing her name will benefit me in any way whatsoever.

She starts to read the Treaty of Treason, another thing I don't care about. And because of that District revolt a couple years back, it's even longer. I remember the revolt: it was…seven years ago? Yeah, that's right. I was ten, then. Everyone was hiding in their houses, afraid of being bombed. My mother was going through serious withdrawal and was annoying the heck out of everyone, so my dad clubbed her to shut her up.

Not the best memories, and what do we get as a result of it? A longer, extra-boring Treaty of Treason.

After what seems like an eternity, the mayor finishes and steps down from the stage. Our escort comes up, looking perky like all of those rainbow-dyed Capitolians do.

Interestingly enough, our escort, despite being a male, is dyed in a rainbow pattern. His face is red, and his short sleeves display his arms, blocked off in segments of orange, yellow, green, and so forth. To top it off, he's wearing bright violet shoes and long violet socks.

I can't decide whether to be disgusted or amused.

"Hello, District 6!" he greets us in a strangely deep voice that sends the crowd into hysterics. He pouts and continues, "My name is Obi Warn, and I'm your district escort this year!"

"No duh," Phoenix whispers to me, and I snicker.

Oblivious, he continues. "Now, let's go traditional and go ladies first, all right?" he walks over to the girl's glass bowl, and delicately plucks a name from the middle. "Ariana Gomez is our female tribute this year! Yeah!" he does an odd little dance onstage. Phoenix mimes him, and I have to smother my laughter.

A girl slowly emerges from the fourteen year old's section, trembling. When she finally gets onstage and faces the crowd, I vaguely recognize her. I tried to place it, but then I remembered: her little brother was killed by some Peacekeepers in the rebellion.

But lots of people died in the rebellion. Either way, she's pretty hot: a bit skinny for my tastes, but has beautiful blue eyes and long black hair. Not as gorgeous as some of the chicks I've picked up in my day, but for being picked at random, they sure picked a good one.

"And now, the boys!" he prances over to the reaping bowl, and despite myself, I'm nervous.

He pulls out a slip. Realizing that he didn't really play up the drama last time, he slowly unfolds it before reading.

"Miles Fox!"

Sucker. Off to the Games with him—wait.

"Miles Fox?" he calls again.

That's me.

I get over my initial shock pretty quickly and shoot a smoking smile to the nearby camera. I step out of the crowd and jog up to the stage. I grab the microphone from the escort and wink to the crowd, drawing attention to my stunning green eyes.

"I'm Miles Fox, and I'll be the best tribute District 6 ever saw!"

The crowd applauds, and I grin and wave to the crowd.

So far, this isn't this bad!

I shake hands with Ariana and flash her a grin just for kicks, before we're separated in the Justice Building for goodbyes.

Phoenix, predictably, is the first one in. He's clearly upset and glares at the Peacekeeper on the way in.

"This sucks!" he yells, his hands balled up into fists. "Why you? This…" he launches into a spew of curse words.

I roll my eyes. "Chill out, Phoenix. I've got this in the bag. I've got the looks, the strength, and the drive: sponsors'll flock to me just like the girls do."

He shoots me a look. "And what if you don't come back? What then?"

"That won't happen, so no worries."

Phoenix looks torn. "Please, Fox—" he starts before I interrupt him.

"Nothing," I say firmly. "Will happen."

The Peacekeeper opens the door and pokes his head into the room. "Time's up."

Phoenix starts to leave, then stops and turns. "You better come back."

I sit back confidently. "'Course I will!"I shout back.

I wait for a bit, then my next visitor comes in. It's my mom.

She's dead drunk, hiccupping and falling over her own feet. She's sobbing.

I roll my eyes as she starts to talk.

"Miles, Miles…this is so sad! So sad…come back, all right? Promise me?"

This is pathetic. "Yeah, whatever, I promise."

She looks up at me sorrowfully. "Pinky promise?" she asks pitifully.

I stand up in loathing of this helpless creature who calls herself my mother. "No."

"But Miles…" she whines.

"No."

"Pleasepleasepleaseplease…." she trails off and I realize that she's fallen asleep.

I call the Peacekeeper in, and he drags my wreck of a mother out of the room.

My brother's next. "So," he asks casually. "How'd Mom do?"

I snort. "Fell asleep after asking me to pinky promise that I'll come back."

"Wow," he comments. "I saw her swigging after your name got called, but that was fast."

"Nah, it was just left over from last night, she was smashed when I woke up."

Frank tsks in annoyance. "So, the Games. Think you'll see any nice girls?"

I grin. "Aren't there always some hot Career chicks?"

"Always," he agrees. "Or at least that's how their rep goes, huh? I don't think I've ever seen one before, except for tapes in history."

"Well, I'll get to see 'em face to face!"

"Just make sure they don't stab you to death before you get in a kiss," Frank teases.

I playfully shove him. "Nah, they'll be too entranced to notice their knives."

The Peacekeeper again calls time, and Frank doffs an imaginary cap to him.

"Mister Peacekeeper," he says formally, backing out of the door. He shoots me a funny face behind the Peacekeeper's back, and I howl with laughter, leaving the Peacekeeper confused.

No one else visits me, and I'm a little disappointed. No girls? I thought that this would go better, a couple of admirers at least. Whatever, I don't need them.

My dad didn't show up either…but I don't need him either. And he doesn't need me.

After awhile, Rainbow Dude comes and gets me and leads me out to the train.

Again, I smile and wave to the cameras.

Smile and wave, Miles. Smile and wave.

It'll get you through.

Hopefully.

Told you that I'd do it! Anyway, there's also a couple questions about past reapings that I thought I'd answer:

D4: The relationship between Shadow and Christie will be explained, given time. I am also aware that it's a bit Peeta-esque as someone else pointed out, but this story won't end up like THG at all, trust me.

D5: I am aware that when you have DID, your alters don't actually talk to you. Demigodgirl1000 helpfully explained this in her review: Dekk doesn't actually communicate, he's just talking to himself and basing the people he's talking to (his alters) off of what people have told him his alters are like. He feels more comfortable imagining them than just waiting for them to take over. For more info, read the rest of her comment, it's very helpful.

Random thing I noticed: all of my chapters have been five pages, this one's six but that's only because of the really long A/N at the beginning, but D4 was ten pages. I guess I just had a lot to say with that one. ;)

I promise, I'll update with D7 soon! It won't take me another 10 months.

See ya around! Leave a comment, pretty please? It makes me write so much faster…:D

~Myrtle