A/N: I will probably update on Sunday next week, because it's my birthday next Friday. What did you readers think of The Hunger Games movie? I thought it was fantastic! The acting was phenomenal. Oh, and if you have a Tumblr, then you should send me your url in a PM or something, or recommend some blogs to me. I would appreciate that. I don't know when I will check them out, but I will, and there's a good chance I will follow. So, yeah, and thanks for reading! =)

CATO'S POV

When I wake up, the memories of the previous night fill my head. The interviews, the talk, the kiss. At least one of them fit into my plan, but the other two should not have occurred. They were interferences in my plan, setbacks. What was I thinking, though? I can't show Clove anymore affection. She has to believe my performance without any doubt. That is the most vital thing, because if she doesn't believe it, then it won't work, and if it doesn't work, then...no, I don't want to think about that. It has to work. At least there's Glimmer to help make it work, but she can't know either. She also has to be convinced. Everyone has to be convinced.

CLOVE'S POV

Once the tracker is placed inside my arm, I am no longer frozen by the ladder. I'm in a hovercraft on my way to the Launch Room. What I've been working towards my whole life is almost here. Bittersweet. Once I step inside the arena, Cato's and my fate are sealed. Only one of us can live. Will live. My stylist, Yeven, is brought up into the hovercraft and we are escorted to a room of food. My last meal before the Games.

When my tribute outfit arrives, Yeven gives me my tribute token. The necklace my father gave me. Three throwing knives in front of the District 2 seal. "I was told this was your token."

I take the token out of Yeven's hand. I have to win the Games. For my father. For my district. For me.

"Since the knives are dull, it passed through inspection fairly easily. One tribute lost her token and another almost lost hers."

Hmph. Idiots. "Which moronic tributes were they?"

"Glimmer and Katniss." Go figure. The slut and the whore. "Glimmer's ring had a poison spike hidden in it. So, it was classified as a weapon, not a token," says Yeven. He gives me my arena outfit, "Do you want me to help you, or do you have this?"

"I can take care of myself," I say with a sharp edge to my voice.

"Don't be too arrogant, you may need some help in the arena," advises Yeven.

"Please. I can take everyone. Easily."

"A little help doesn't hurt. Plus, I'm sure you are going to need it." What does he think I am? A helpless child? The District 11 girl?

"I have a fucking alliance. Okay?" I don't need my alliance, and I as sure as hell could take care of myself if I needed to.

"Watch your back in the arena, you never know when someone will turn."

"I know what I'm fucking doing. I was born and raised for the Games. I'm meant for this shit."

"I knew that. I just wanted to get you riled up before the Games started," smirks Yeven.

"You did a fucking good job, then," I snap.

"You should get into your arena gear now," suggests Yeven.

"You can get the fuck out of here then. I don't need you watching me." I don't do free shows. If you want one, see the Glimmer-Slut.

"Let me know when you're ready," says Yeven exiting the room.

I put on my outfit, which consists of cargo pants, a maroon shirt, boots, and a jacket. "Done!" I yell.

"Fantastic!" says Yeven, waltzing back into the room. "How does it feel? Pratice as if you were throwing knives."

I pretend to throw a few knives, aiming right at Yeven. Head. Neck. Heart. "It'll do."

"Judging by the material, I would say the days will be hot and the nights cold." No shit.

A voice belonging to a female announces that it is launch time.

I step into the glass cylinder, and hear Yeven say, "At least try to make it out of the bloodbath."

Try to make it out of the bloodbath? Oh, I'll make it out of the bloodbath. I'll make it out of the whole fucking Games. Just you wait. Just you Fucking wait.

Once the glass cylinder raises me into the arena, I hear the voice of Claudius Templesmith, "Ladies and gentlemen, let the Seventy-fourth Hunger Games begin!"

There's sixty seconds before the Games truly begin. There's a pile of knives near the Cornucopia's mouth. Fire Bitch is about six platforms away. You're going to be dead soon, Fire Bitch. You're all going to be fucking dead soon. Count on it. I locate my alliance members. From what I can tell, we're spread out pretty good.

I set my gaze on my knives. This is it. This is what I've trained for. This is what I live for. This is what my whole life is about. This is what I was born to do. And I'm not going to disappoint. I'm going to show them all just how fucking Strong I am. I look over at the Bitch On Fire and follow her gaze, but I can't tell what it is she is looking at. There are too many items. It's got to be a weapon. But which one? I have no fucking idea.

I put my gaze back on my knives. Compose yourself Clove. You got this. Remember what you're here for. To Win. Anyone standing in your way, what do you do? Kill them. Cato is in your way, so kill Cato. Simple. Don't you dare forget it. The next voice in my head isn't mine, its Cato's. I don't want to kill you either. No. Get out of my head. I'm Strong. Not Weak. I will kill you. I will. Compose yourself. I am here to Kill. I'm here to Win. To show I'm better than them all. That I am Strong.

When the gong sounds, I don't waste anytime to rush as fast as I can to the knives. I pick them up and immediately start rushing towards the Fire Whore, or who I at least think is the Bitch On Fire. I throw a knife at the tribute fighting with the presumed Fire Bitch over a backpack. The tribute is blocking my view from telling exactly who the person is, but when my knife strikes his back and he falls to the ground, I see that it is indeed Twelve Bitch. As she runs for the forest, I throw a knife, aimed right for the unprotected back of her neck. "Fuck," I say when she pulls the backpack up, and the knifes hits it instead. I hesitate for second, considering on following her, but figure I will get her later.

Back at the Cornucopia, there are already a few corpses. Looks like I missed some of the fun. Two tributes are trying to fight Cato. Though, I am sure he has them, I toss a knife at the female's head. As she slumps to the ground, Cato beheads the male. "Clove, watch it!" yells Marvel. I turn and see his spear whizzing towards me. Instinctively, I roll out of the way, and hear the sweet sound of spear against flesh. Death.

"You almost killed me Jackass!" I yell back at Marvel. I do a quick look-over of the area on this side of the Cornucopia. Besides Cato, Marvel, and me, they're all dead.

I hear a screech of "Rush!" from Morgan, and the three of us sprint to the Cornucopia's other side. Glimmer and Morgan are surrounded by four tributes, and a lifeless Rush lies on the ground next to them. They both have short swords. What the hell is their problem? They're careers, they should be able to kill these tributes with ease. Where the fuck is Bread Boy? I throw a knife at the back of a guy's head, and Marvel throws a spear, while Cato continues to sprint to the group. Both of our weapons connect with the flesh of our victims. Sensing they are outnumbered, the other tributes try to make a run for it. They don't get too far. Cato hacks off one of their heads, and Morgan makes herself of some use by throwing her sword, and actually hitting the fleeing tribute.

"Thanks," says Glimmer in her typical slut-like way, "I could have died right there, and you're so good with your sword." She runs her hand along Cato's body. Oh no you don't. Bitch.

Before I snap at Bimbo-Glimmer and do something that will get me killed, Marvel says, "Where's Lover Boy?"

"Yeah, where the fuck is Lover Boy," says Cato. He looks at Glimmer, "You let him in this alliance, so where the fuck is he?"

"I'm right here," says Lover Boy, who is holding a spear, and walking from the other side of the Cornucopia.

"What were you accomplishing over there?" says Marvel.

"I was getting help, but I was a little late." explains Lover Boy.

"So, you just stayed over there being a complete waste of space that whole time?" I ask.

"I made sure the bodies were all dead," says Bread Boy.

"Of course they were dead. We killed them," I snap. Does he really think we're that sloppy?

"If you're that much of an expert, then tell me. Were they dead?" interrogates Cato.

"They were."

"Now that we got that out of that way. Let's gather up all the weapons." commands Marvel.

Cato shoots back at Marvel immediately, "What do you think you're doing?"

"I'm leading this pack." Bullshit. I'm running this joint.

"I think not. If anyone is, it's me," says Cato.

Except for Lover Boy and Morgan, the whole alliance breaks out into a dispute on who should lead the pack. Glimmer says that Cato should. Marvel thinks he should. But obviously I should. Because I could kick all their asses. Easily.

"Everyone just calm the fuck down!" yells Cato eventually.

"Says you, Mr. Half-insane," I quip.

"You're just as sane as I am," retorts Cato.

"I've never hospitalized someone unintentionally. You lose yourself. I don't."

"So, you intentionally broke Mace's nose? Huh? I guess that's not surprising since you're a psychobitch."

Marvel asks, "Anyone have popcorn?" No. No one has any fucking popcorn.

"I'm the psychobitch? Then what are you? The psychodick? You're just as bloodthristy as me!"

"Psychodick? That's real creative of you. What are you going to call me next? Huh? What about-"

Lover Boy interjects, saying, "Can we stop fighting?"

Marvel jeers back at him with "Shut it Dough Boy. This is starting to get good."

"Keep out of this Lover Boy," shouts Cato.

"No. We can be more civilized about this. Why don't we take a vote?" puts in Wonder Bread.

"Fine. We'll take a vote," complies Cato. "What idiots think Marvel should the squad captain?" Besides Marvel, who claims no one voting for him is an idiot, there is no one who shows anything indicating they want him to lead. "The psychobitch?"

"I'm not the psychobitch. I'm Clove." No one besides me seems to want my guidance. Fucking Idiots. No wonder I'm going to win.

"No, you're the psychobitch. What about Lover Boy over there. Anyone want to get killed because of his stupidity? How about Glimmer? Morgan? Me and all my glory?" Glimmer, Lover Boy, and Morgan all indicate in some way, whether it be saying "Me" or raising a hand, to show they want Cato as squad captain. Morons.

"You don't have any glory," I spit at Cato, "None whatsoever."

"Oh look, someone's jealous." mocks Cato.

"Of you? Please."

Lover Boy asks, "Can we just get to gathering the weapons now?" before Cato and I break into another argument.

We gather the weapons from all the dead tributes first before picking up the uncollected ones around the Cornucopia. They are all placed in a nice pile.

"Let's set up camp near the lake." states Cato, so we move all of the supplies down by the lake.

By this time the cannons are going off. Eleven. The same as Bitch On Fire's training score. Once we finish moving all the supplies down by the lake the hovercraft come to pick up all the cadavers.

I pick out some food to eat, which is an apple, jerky, and some bar thing. I sit with my back leaning against a tree and watch the others while I eat. I could kill them all right now if I wanted to, but that would be foolish of me. Cato is comparing three different swords before deciding which one he wants to carry with him. Marvel and Morgan are eating and talking. Glimmer is doing what she does best: Being a Slut. But as she flirts with Cato, I can't tell if he is flirting back or not. The sight angers me, and when I finish my food, I jump to my feet. What is up with Cato? Last night he kissed me and told me he didn't want to kill me, but now he's flirting with Glimmer. I pick up my pile of throwing knives and walk towards over to the supplies. I grab the vest that I found in the Cornucopia's mouth, and try it on. It fits. Perfectly. I sit down by Lover Boy and cautiously line the inside of the vest with my knives.

I hold up the smallest knife, which has a nice curve to it, and ask Lover Boy with a brutal smile, "This one would be nice for facial reconstruction. What do you think?"

Instead of answering my question, Lover Boy asks me "Did you know Cato back in District 2?"

"Why do you care?" Seriously. I'm not going to tell you all about my life. Bread Boy.

"I was just wondering. When you two were arguing it sounded like you did." I carefully put a blade into my vest before grabbing another blade and insert it in a one of the vest's modified pocket sheaths.

"Let me tell you something about life. You're born. You're raised. You fight. You win. You're revered." Why am I wasting my time talking to him.

"What if you don't fight?"

"Then you don't win," I respond.

"Is that what it's all about then? Winning?" No shit. You don't fight, you don't win. You don't win, you're not revered. It's not that hard.

I finish putting the last knife in my vest, and stand up. "No one wants to lose, do they?"