Updated as of June 11th, 2021.

Hey evera body :D It'sa been a while! Sorry about that.

I won't bore you guys with any chitter-chatter right now. So, without further adieu...

ONTO THE STORY!

Disclaimer: I don't own The Hunger Games. Or it's characters. Only the people who are obviously not from the book. Yup.

FLASHBACK TO LAST CHAPTER

Our chariots took off again, and we broke eye-contact. Nobody seemed to have noticed the smile or the wave, and it was like it had never happened. We were heading to the Training Center, and a wave of nervousness suddenly washed over me at the prospect of training under the watchful eyes of the Career Tributes. When the horses began slowing as we entered the building, I finally noticed something that seemed to have slipped my mind as I got wrapped up in the lights and the crowd and the other tributes.

Emery never let go of my hand.

We stepped off of the chariot carefully, and as soon as our feet hit the ground our entire team appeared from thin air and started spraying us down to put out the fire. It was only at that point did Emery release my hand, seeing as we were being ushered around by different people. Haymitch materialized beside me, his eyes shifting around warily as he muttered to me under his breath.

"You did alright out there, kid, but it seems you've attracted the attention of the wrong crowd, from what I saw." He rubbed his jaw and casually pointed to our left, to the higher districts. Glancing out of the corner of my eye, I saw the male tributes from District's 2 and 4 looking our way. The one from 4 was laughing and interacting with the people around him, but his eyes were focused on me. The one from 2, however, was flashing his eyes between our little entourage and his own.

"But I didn't do anything!" I said, turning to look him in the eye. He shrugged, tipping back his bottle of strange liquid as his eyes kept watching our surroundings.

"You didn't have to," he said mysteriously, causing my brow to furrow in confusion.

"Listen, I want you to stick around Emery for a while, okay? I'm not exactly sure what they're planning, but knowing how Career Tributes usually are, it won't be good," he said quietly, meeting my gaze for a brief moment before flitting away again. "I'm sure you're quite capable at defending yourself, but it might be wise to stick near him since he's, well, you know…"

"A man?" I said, an eyebrow raised in annoyance. He shook his head, either oblivious to my irritated reaction or indifferent.

"No. Because he's taller, stronger, and more muscular. So, do you agree?"

"It's not like I have much of a choice on the matter, since you're my mentor and all, and I'm supposed to listen to you," I said, adding a bit of a sarcastic bite to my words. He raised his brow, meeting my gaze for longer than a second this time.

"Glad you know your role. Now that that's settled, we should hurry along before Effie starts throwing a fit about how slow we're moving. God knows how much more I can take from that woman…" He sighed, rubbing his face.

The elevator ride up was quiet, everyone lost in their own thoughts. Even Effie, who usually had to fill the void with talk of varying importance, kept to herself. The floor numbers flew by, reminding me once again how swift things moved in the Capitol compared to home.

We were on the 12th floor of the Training Center, and I could hardly believe the size of our living quarters. My room alone dwarfed the sized of our house in the Seam. All the gizmos and gadgets from the train were there, only much more complex. It was like they decided to adding fifty more buttons to everything made things easier. The panel on the shower had over two hundred buttons alone. It didn't have enough space to include pictures this time, so I had to guess-and-check my way through it.

It had that fancy blow-dryer-mat thing like on the train as well, so I didn't have to deal with all the tangles that I, undoubtedly, had hiding in the jungle that was my hair. Walking up to the mirror, I appraised myself. All the dark, dramatic makeup had melted off with the help of an odd soap option, leaving my tanned skin feeling light and clean. How could people wear that stuff all the time?

I rubbed a hand over my neck, feeling the jagged ridges of an old scar and remembering darker times of a past best forgotten. It was a wonder it hadn't been rubbed smooth when my prep team scrubbed my skin raw. My stomach churned at the memories of the times before I met Katniss. It was a wonder Portia hadn't said anything when she prepared me earlier, or the prep team for that matter. I was definitely glad that my bodysuit had kept it covered during the Parade.

My room's closet held more options than the train's could dream of. The amount of choices made it hard to find anything that I felt comfortable wearing, but in the end I was able to find a solid-colored dress. Narrowing it down to one item of clothing rather than two made the task much less overwhelming. Amazing how with the press of the button I could have a dress in my hand, and for the people of the Capitol it was just an average task of the day.

Effie knocked sharply at my door, chirping in her saccharine voice that the food was ready. My stomach rumbled loudly, eager to begin eating as soon as possible. Making my way out the door, I adjusted my hair to its usual place to cover myself, not expecting Effie to still be there when I looked up. She beamed at me and turned on her heel, leading the way.

Haymitch, Emery, Portia and Cinna were all waiting for us at the dining table, conversation ceasing as soon as I stepped through the doorway. I raised an eyebrow at them and turned to Effie, as if she had a clue to what was going on. She pretended she didn't notice me and walked forward to her seat, leaving me suspicious and confused.

I sat down in my seat slowly, eyeing my fellow diners silently, the same way they were doing to me. Well, actually it was only Haymitch and Effie who were looking at me in this way, but it felt like everyone was. My patience was wearing thin, the tense silence only putting me further on edge. Just as I was about to snap, and maybe drop a dish to make some sort of noise, Portia struck up a conversation with Effie, asking what she thought of our Parade outfits. Cinna chimed in with something about our upcoming interview outfits, but it quickly became too much for me to focus on.

Toying with the fork set in front of me, I trailed my eyes upward until I was looking at Emery. His eyes focused on nothing in particular, his thumb rubbing his forefinger over and over. Penny for your thoughts? I mentally asked, chuckling at the thought of actually speaking up. I doubt I wanted to know. Probably starting to strategize for the Games. A sobering thought. Glancing at his face again, I realized the swelling around his eye had gone down to almost nothing. His prep team must have done something to speed up the healing process. I touched my lip, noticing with wonder that it had healed too.

Turning my attention further down the table, I noticed with surprise that Haymitch had cleaned up. Not that he looked like a complete trainwreck most of the time, but seeing him in a suit, stubble-free and with his hair slicked back was quite an improvement. Perhaps Cinna or Portia had gotten their hands on him.

Our servers brought out our meal, which to a normal Capitol person, such as Effie, would seem simple, plain even, which is exactly what Effie proceeded to call it. But to a Seam kid like me, who only ever ate what she happened to kill that day, it was heaven. Roasted pheasant smothered in a peach glaze, mashed potatoes swimming with white gravy, and small pieces of warm bread topped with cheese and strawberries. Emery and I dug in quickly, unable to stand looking at it any longer.

After I had eaten every last morsel on my plate, I set it aside and wiped my mouth with my arm, momentarily forgetting I was no longer at home and that people here didn't do things this way. Effie pursed her lips at me, her eyes filled with a sense of admonishment at my lack of manners. I ducked my head, a little embarrassed at myself. Emery tapped on the table, and when I looked up to see what he was doing, he sent me a wink. Then, he picked up his plate and held it up to his face, licking it clean. After he was done with that, he let out a burp and wiped his mouth with the back of his hand, drawing Effie's attention away from me and onto him.

"It's a good thing you have Cinna and Portia as your stylists. Without them, the world would see you as the slobs you are!" Effie said, making a point to dab the corners of her mouth with her napkin. "If you'll excuse me, I will be waiting in the sitting room." She pushed away from the table, leaving the room in a huff.

"What's up her ass?" Emery muttered, raising an eyebrow as he set down his plate. I pressed my lips together firmly to prevent myself from laughing. Portia discretely covered her mouth with her hand, hiding her smile.

"I don't know, but it's been there for a long time," Haymitch said, rolling his eyes as he sipped from his drink. Everyone burst out laughing, tears springing in some of our eyes from laughing so hard. It was a wonder she hadn't heard us.

"Well, even though Miss Trinket isn't here to join us, I think we should be able to still enjoy this while it's here," Cinna said as soon as he could speak again.

He snapped his fingers, getting the attention of a nearby server and forcing them forward. The server set down a three-tiered cake and promptly lit it on fire. The flames whirled around it, cycling through colors in rapid succession before slowly fizzling out. Portia clapped giddily and motioned for the server to cut everyone a slice. He silently obliged and began cutting the cake.

I froze, all my previous humor gone, and stared at the server-boy's face. No. No, that wouldn't be right. Why would a servant in the Capitol look familiar to me? He served a slice to Portia, facing me head-on and causing something to click in my brain. My heart rate began speeding up as flashes of memories came to me of cold nights long ago, tears and bruises and blood spattering skin.

It couldn't be him. There was no way he could be standing here, cutting away at a celebratory cake miles and miles away from home. He peered at me from the corner of his eye, somehow able to still cut the cake in perfect slices despite no longer watching what he was doing. He didn't look surprised in the least that I recognized him. I opened my mouth to ask him something, but he slightly shook his head to silence me.

Not here, his eyes said, shifting away to focus on finishing up his task.

Emery glanced between us warily, his mouth set in a thin line. I avoided his gaze, concentrating on eating the slice of cake the boy had put on my plate. My eyes closed entirely on their own as the sweet flavor exploded in my mouth, sending warm shivers down my spine at the pleasure of it. We had never been able to afford cakes back home, and this was the first time in my life I had ever actually tasted a piece. Emery was having a similar reaction from his side of the table, his eyes fluttering as the taste overwhelmed him. I found myself smiling a little bit at him and stopped. He was the competition. When we got in the Arena, I might have to kill him. I had to keep that in mind if I wanted to win.

After everyone was done with their dessert, we shifted over to the sitting room, where Effie had been patiently waiting. The servant-boy followed us at Portia's request, standing dutifully at the corner of the room as he awaited his orders. I couldn't help myself from sneaking one last look at him before turning to the television screen.

The broadcast had just started with Caesar and Claudius cracking jokes at some of the tributes' outfits and the stylists who made them. I thought it was actually quite rude of them to do this, but Effie seemed to be having a heyday with it, Portia joining in at some points to add her expertise. Cinna remained quiet, sitting up straighter as he analyzed each outfit with care.

If I were to be honest, District 1 just looked plain ridiculous out there. Somehow the blonde girl managed to pull off the pink, fluffy, feathery-slash-furry look their stylists seemed to be going for, but the male just looked miserable. They certainly exuded luxury, but I wasn't sure I would ever understand fashion if that was what passed for it.

District 2's stylists seemed to know what they were doing with the whole 'Golden Gladiator' look they gave their tributes. At least, it worked for the male, Cato. The female tribute was so small that it looked like the armor she wore was weighing down on her, and her legs could barely keep herself from falling over. This didn't stop the crowd from cheering aggressively for the duo.

District 4 was about the same as District 2 as far as who wore it better. They had basically draped the tributes with blue tarps and tied them off to reveal choice parts of their bodies. The girl's was so it showed off most of her legs and part of her chest, while Finnick's was placed so that his muscular chest and abdomen were shown off for the aroused women of the Capitol to devour with their eyes. Sex sold, but that didn't make it any less horrifying that these grown women were objectifying children. A flash of white flew from the stands, nearly hitting their chariot and causing me to gasp.

"They were panties!" I said, earning a couple incredulous looks from the people around me. Sinking back into my seat, I opted for silence as I watched the rest of the Parade.

Most of the other districts weren't really worth mentioning, and neither Caesar nor Claudius commented on them. The girl from District 3 looked lost next to her partner, almost like she was uncomfortable with all the noise and the lighting. The siblings from District 7 stood stiffly away from each other, the boy looking like he was about to cry every time he glanced at his sister and the girl looking like she was about to murder her brother every time she glanced his way. The girl from District 9 looked absolutely terrified in her silver studded outfit, her male counterpart doing all he could not to start crying.

The little boy from District 11 held his head high as he stood on his chariot, something that had to require some sort of courage for him to do. The older girl just scowled at everyone and everything as she stared straight ahead, not even bothering to acknowledge the crowd. Their stylists had taken the easy way out and just put both tributes in stereotypical overalls, putting grey wheat-wreaths on their heads to call it their own design. Portia tore it apart, Effie hanging off every word.

And then there we were. The cameras shifted briefly to us and back away, anticipating nothing worthwhile to be coming from the District 12 rats. That's how they treated our district every year. Our flames must have caught a camera operator's eye, because they whipped the camera back and zoomed in, putting us front and center on the screen. Then came the lull in the crowd as they stared in awe at the shimmering flames wrapped around our bodies. Caesar and Claudius burst into applause.

"Another big and commanding entrance by our District 12 volunteer tribute, Laurel Dainton!" Caesar said, sharing a look with Claudius.

"The male tribute looks pretty opposing as well, Caesar! And those flames," Claudius gushed, physically pointing out the obvious.

"Amazing, just amazing!" Caesar said. They quieted down and let us get a better look at ourselves, and I had to admit, we did look pretty intimidating.

It wasn't the same as experiencing it in person, but it still shocked me how menacing we looked. I blinked and touched my cheek when I saw the scrape leftover from my encounter with the Shower of Death left untouched by make-up at the Parade. In fact, it looked even worse than before with darker bruising around the edges. Bewildered, I looked over at Portia, who pretended not to notice me as she stared intently at the screen. Why was that left, but my lip treated?

Once the crowd began roaring, I saw how close our past selves were to being halfway through the loop and leaned forward, watching closer. Something clicked in past-me's eyes, and without hesitation she put her hand in Emery's. His brow furrowed, but the next thing we knew the flames touched, engulfing us white fire. The brightness of the flames made it impossible to overlook us. And then we raised our intertwined hands, sending the crowd into a frenzy.

The camera angle switched to include the whole line-up of tributes, zooming in to pan across each district as the commentary driveled on. The camera operator paused on District 4, and my heart dropped when I realized what was coming next. Caesar tapped his chin, a mischievous grin pulling at his lips.

"My, my…Would you look at that? It appears we might have some flirtation between the tributes this year," he said, turning his grin towards Claudius.

A side-by-side viewing of our chariot and District 4's came up on the screen, showing the moment I noticed the one and only Finnick Odair turned around and staring at me. It had been harder to see from the distance we were apart, but now that the cameras were so close, I could see the whites of his knuckles as he gripped the railing on his chariot. A vein ticked in his jaw as his eyes narrowed at us, and I had to fight the urge to cover my face when past-me winked and blew him a kiss.

"You may just be onto something, Caesar." Claudius smirked, rubbing his chin thoughtfully. My whole body stiffened as I felt the weight of every person in the room's eyes on me.

President Snow commandeered the broadcast once his stepped out onto the balcony, but a few more split screens allowed the audience a view of the tributes as we paid him attention. Well, a majority of the tributes did at least. Emery and I's hands were still firmly clasped together, looking almost painfully so, but it didn't appear to bother either of us. Emery's focus never strayed from the President, while mine was everywhere. Finnick was staring shamelessly at me, trying to get my attention without saying anything. The District 2 male looked almost bored as he stared up at President Snow, his attention quickly shifting towards us where it stuck. The look in his eyes was almost predatory as he glared our way. How had I not noticed him with a look like that?

"Caesar, I think this might be a little more than just some flirting," Claudius hinted amusedly, sharing a chuckle with Caesar.

"Well folks, this ends the Opening Ceremonies for this year's Hunger Games! I would have to say it was one of the best we've seen yet! Wouldn't you agree, Claudius?"

"Yes, I do! Now, stayed tuned for-" Haymitch turned off the TV, effectively cutting off Claudius Templesmith mid-sentence.

The tension in the air was thick enough to cut. Haymitch cleared his throat and shifted a little, and I knew he had turned towards me. Emery lurched to his feet and left the room without another word, the sound of a closing door following in his wake. Cinna and Portia shared a look before standing up, telling me how stunning I looked out there and departing for their rooms.

"Well. It's official, brat. You've successfully screwed yourself three weeks before you even step foot in the Arena." Haymitch chuckled, taking a swig from his bottle. Effie actually appeared to be a little pleased by this turn of events. Why, I would probably never know. She got up and smoothed down her skirt before walking over to me.

"You know, if you ever need to release any pent-up stress, the Avox's here work wonders. All you have to do is ask them," she whispered, patting my arm sincerely.

"Uh, thanks, Effie. I'll keep that in mind," I said uneasily, hoping there wasn't a double meaning to her words. She smiled, bidding a goodnight to Haymitch before heading off down the hallway.

"...you should see her when she's drunk. For being so obsessed with manners and having things in the proper place, she can be pretty crude," Haymitch said with a snort, breaking the tension in my body.

"Hard to imagine her like that. Wouldn't think she cared for the stuff."

"Some years are harder than others," he said, shrugging. "There are a lot of ways to cope. Some more destructive than others. Just look at me."

We sat in silence for a moment, the reality of our situation weighing down on me again.

"You clean up well. The suit's a nice touch," I said, trying to lighten the mood again. He looked down at himself, shaking his head with a bitter laugh.

"Well, I figured if I wanted you to follow your role, I better step up to mine." He stood up, raising his bottle like a toast. "Gonna have to work twice as hard to get sponsors for your dumb ass after that stunt."

I wrapped my arms around myself, a hollow feeling settling into my gut. "Did I really screw things up that badly?"

Haymitch shrugged.

"Guess we'll have to wait and see. Get some rest, brat," he said. With that, he left.

He really was a good man, no matter how many times he would deny it. It was a shame people would never be able to see him for who he really was, instead of the character he played.

I hadn't intended on being the last to leave, but there I sat, the only noise in the room being the sound of my own breathing. Until I heard clothing rustling behind me, that is. Jumping to my feet, I turned around, letting out a breath of relief when I saw the Avox boy in the corner of the room. How had I forgotten about him? My lip quivered the longer I stared.

"I thought you were dead," I whispered, feeling tears welling in my eyes. He quickly shook his head and glanced around, as if someone were around to hear us. Someone we couldn't see. Cameras. They could be watching us with cameras, I thought, feeling like and idiot for not realizing sooner.

"I'm sorry, I must have mistaken you for someone else. Silly me," I chuckled, trying as hard as I could to be as convincing as possible. "Could you get me a glass of warm milk? I think I need it after a day like today," I requested, my smile faltering the longer I acted. He nodded and left without another word. Of course, being an Avox and all, there would be no way he could say anything ever again.

My legs gave out and I landed back on the couch, staring up at the ceiling as thoughts raced through my head. Could he really be the person I thought he was? I turned on my side, facing the TV. Was it even possible? I had seen what had happened to him with my own eyes. Was he really able to survive something like that?

He walked into my view and handed me a mug, forcing me to sit up to attempt drinking it. Just as I raised the cup to my lips, I paused, looking up at him curiously.

"Before I drink this, I want you to take a sip," I said, handing him the mug back. His brow furrowed and he looked at me almost sadly, as if I had forgotten what they did to people like him. "That is a command, and aren't you supposed to follow commands?" I asked, raising an eyebrow. His shoulders slumped the slightest bit, and he grudgingly put the cup to his lips, tipping it back so that it trickled into his mouth.

"You should still taste it with the taste buds on the back of your throat, or so I've heard," I covered, watching him expectantly. He blinked and looked down at me, a light going on inside his head.

"Well, now that I'm sure you haven't tried poisoning me, drink the rest of it. I don't want it anymore anyway," I said, waving him away as if it was merely an inconvenience. He nodded, but I saw the way his eyes brightened. "You may go. I will be fine for the night."

With a bow, he exited. Some incomprehensible programming played faintly on the screen in front of me, but it was getting too blurry to see. My eyelids began drooping and I yawned, stretching out before lying back down on the couch. Tomorrow would be the first day of training, and the first day all the tributes would be brought together to show each other how deadly they were with a certain weapon, or more likely, how useless they were at anything to do with survival or fighting.

Only a few more days left until the Games.

A/N: Heya again evera body! I'm terribly sorry that this took so long. Hope it's up to par with the rest of the story so far!

Oh! What do you guys think of this Avox kid? Well, I guess he's not really a kid, but you know what I mean. Any guesses to what happened? Is it obvious? Do you think this Avox is who she thinks it is?

Shout-outs to these cool peeps for reviewing! = The Loved and Unloved, cutegirlems, Lovely Lexie, Whatever1993, and squirmyorchid! Thanks for so much positive feedback :)

Shout-outs to the new Silent Watchers out there! Have a virtual cookie ;) *throws cookies*

Okay.

Peace Out!