Can I just say, that the romance in this story- no matter how many couples I might imply- is minimal as hell. These are hormonal teenagers right here, some of whom are completely mentally unbalanced. People have been PMing me to ask to ship their characters with people such as Exotica, Aela and Nickel, and I'm thinking that'll be difficult. I sort of ship one of the characters with Nickel already (as you'll see in this chapter), but it's not really romantic. He's not capable of romantic feelings. Basically, he's an overgrown baby.

*IMPORTANT*

I did the maths, and I'm going to have to add in more Capitol chapters in order to get a POV in for everyone. So-o-o, here is After Hours No. 1. After the Training Assessments and Scores(next chapter), it'll be Interviews, After Hours No. 2, then the Bloodbath. If that doesn't add up, I'll sort it out... Probably...

REEL AUTIN, DISTRICT 9

"I'm going out." Was all that Reel Autin said, when he emerged from the darkened room that he normally inhabited. Hiroko Ren, his district partner, flinched at his sudden appearance; she had been sprawled out on the sofa, her eyes glued to the city-scape outside the large window, seemingly deep in thought.

Their mentors and district escort had retired to their rooms long ago, and the moon was high in the sky. The stars twinkled dubiously, and the fluorescent lights of the city down below were blinding, and far too bright. Although it could have been called beautiful, it felt warped to Reel. Wrong. The moon was too white, too full, too perfect.

It's like we're in some kind of enclosed space... Weird...

"You're going out? Hiroko asked, her tone somewhat intrigued. He paused for a second, before shrugging in her direction. Reel didn't really mind Hiroko, but he hated the fact that she used to give the Peacekeepers such a hard time. They're only doing their jobs... Personally, he liked her. But he didn't appreciate her lack of respect for authority. Which seemed somewhat hypocritical- to him at least- since he was satisfying his wanderlust by going on a late night stroll. "Can I come?"

Reel shot an apologetic smile in her direction. "I want to be on my own," he replied, as he hitched a soft, red hooded jacket over his shoulders, pulling the hood up over his short brown hair. "I want to reflect, you know? It feels stuffy in here. I want to think about what I'm doing in the Games, maybe talk to myself a little, you know?"

"You shouldn't. It'll make you feel worse."

"Won't make a difference, really." Reel shrugged. He let out a little chuckle. "Unless, the Careers go on a midnight stroll and find me, in which case I'm in for a world of pain. I'll look half deranged talking to myself."

Hiroko giggled, covering her mouth with both hands- a habit she could not seem to get rid of, despite the amount she was mocked for it- and relaxed back against the sofa, her silky dark hair splayed out over it. "I might go for a walk myself, if I wasn't so tired."

"Maybe I'll go again tomorrow. Come with me then? I like you." The words came out a little oddly, and Reel almost clapped a hand over his mouth. At the look on his face, Hiroko giggled again, and Reel shook his head. "Not like that. We're in a death tournament, and I'm not so sappy. You aren't my type at all."

Hiroko hovered for a second, seemingly unsure whether to be insulted or amused. She grinned wryly. "Sure, sure. Have fun wandering around and talking to yourself, rebel."

Reel walked towards the door to the elevator, and opened it. He clenched his teeth as he pulled the handle down, in fear that an alarm of some kind might go off, but nothing happened. His bare feet padding against the thickly carpeted ground, Reel walked into the elevator, and shut the door behind him. Compared to the low, soothing lights of the apartment, the elevator lights were stark.

He punched in the training floor code, before moving his hand away as if burned, and sidling over to the other side. Reel leaned against the wall as the elevator went into motion, tapping his foot against the ground as he watched bright lights appear in front of him as he went down, passing the other floors.

Is anyone else out? What if I really do run into any Careers? Will they hurt me?

Despite himself, Reel felt his heart begin to pump a little harder. Involuntarily, his whole body went into a quick, strange spasm of fear. He quickly pulled himself out of it- Omri told him it was merely someone "walking over his grave"- and continued staring at the flashing lights on the wall, his jaw clenched and firm. Even if I do run into any Careers, he thought, tapping his foot restlessly against the ground. I'll get 'em. I'm taller than most of them, anyway, and bigger than some. Maybe they're better with weapons than us, but some of us in the outer districts have a chance... The boy from District 8 looks tough, real tough. And the girl from District 7, if you look at her properly. Maybe we actually have a chance this year?

There was a loud, piercing ding as the elevator hit the ground floor, and spat Reel out into what he presumed was some kind of administration office. The lights were still on, and were far brighter than he might have liked- and although the place was completely empty, he felt a strange foreboding as he took a step further into the room.

It was a reasonably large room, and seemed to serve as a lobby, too. All of the walls were made of glass, and they were carefully shaped into what seemed like a dome, mixed with an oversized beehive. There were several corridors leading off it, as well as two staircases, presumably leading to more long, winding corridors. In one corner of the room, there was a closed café, with the peppermint red and white stools screwed to the ground in front of a bar. There was a long desk that took up the other side of the room, separated by clear glass into what seemed like cubicles. Dozens of comfortable looking chairs were scattered around the room.

"Hey!"

Reel almost leapt out of his skin at the sound and turned, wide-eyed, in the direction where it had come from; it was over towards the café. On three of the red and white stools- how could I have overlooked them?!- sat the girl from District 10, the boy from District 12, and the boy from District 7. The girl had some kind of odd, seemingly carbonated drink in front of her, and was sipping it though a pink plastic straw, and the boys were drinkless.

"Hey, you're from District 9, right?"

The boy from District 12 was talking to him, and Reel was still frozen in fear. The shock of being confronted by other tributes, people that he would be pitted against in a competition of life and death, was terrifying. And these people, were they allies? Would they join together in a fight against him?

"I d-don't want any trouble," Reel said, and was surprised to find that he was stuttering, his voice higher pitched than usual. He coughed awkwardly, and tried again. "I don't want any trouble."

They were all smiling at him, for some reason. Not overly friendly, more cautiously than anything else, but at least they didn't seem aggressive.

The boy from 7 was the one to speak next. "Neither do we. We ain't looking for trouble. Just for some likeminded folk. You want to join?"

Reel didn't quite know how to reply. And when he did, he was so quiet that he had to repeat himself, which was extremely rare for him. "Sure. I guess."

NICKEL PEPPERSMITH, DISTRICT 11

Nickel Peppersmith leant against the smooth metal railings, staring out over the Capitol. Even from where he stood, high up on top of a building, he could hear the wild nightlife. Despite the distance, the flashing lights left blurry imprints on his vision. The blotches of colour moving around there seemed like ants to him, small and equally squishable. Reaching out his left arm, he scissored his fingers childishly, and pretended that he was killing the Capitolites. Squishing them, banging their heads together...

Is their blood colourful too? Blue, and red, and yellow, and green, and all the colours of the rainbow?

But, to Nickel's confusion, he didn't seem to gain any satisfaction out of it. His long, thin fingers seemed babyish hanging in mid-air as he played make-believe, and his eyes suddenly glazed over.

Corpse's eyes.

Do I want to kill people? It's not the right thing, is it? It's bad. Ba-a-ad. Because people feel pain... For some reason, Nickel felt a flash of jealousy. Pain was something, was it not? Something that he could feel. It wasn't like he was invincible, or anything. He could feel pain, couldn't he? Using his right hand, he pinched the skin of his left forearm, just to prove it to himself. He winced. Ouch. That was stupid. Touch isn't all good, that's what everyone says.

"Uhm..." The voice that came from behind him was feminine, and took him by surprise. Nickel barely contained himself, and clenched both fists, digging his nails into his cold palms in order to stop himself reacting. He should have been feeling fear and, although his heart sped up and a sheen of sweat appeared on his pale forehead, his thoughts flatlined.

He turned around and, to his surprise, found himself face to face with the girl from District 2. Her dark brown hair was pulled up into a ponytail, and her freckled face seemed a little anxious, although she wore a stony mask. She crossed her arms, leaning slightly towards him. It would have been intimidating, if she wasn't half his size.

"What are you doing up here, District 11?" District 2 asked, and Nickel realised that he couldn't remember her name. What was it, Jemima? He mentally cursed himself for not paying attention during the Reapings.

Nickel leaned his back against the railings, leaning dangerously far over the edge. The girl from District 2's breath seemed to hitch, and she took a step forward, but stopped herself at the last minute. She sniffed haughtily. "So, then?"

"Can't sleep." Nickel shrugged, not really bothered with her. It was true; he couldn't sleep. He'd always had difficulty sleeping, when he was hungry for human touch. Physical contact, which was one of the only things he could feel, aside from pain. And he didn't like pain, so it was certainly a last straw. Touching Rose-Mary was disgusting on too many levels, considering he was eighteen years old: a man. Most of these people were children.

"It's the Training Assessment tomorrow," The girl from District 2 murmured, more to herself than to him. Nickel didn't bother looking in her direction, jumping up onto the railings, and resting his rear on the sharp metal. The tips were rather painful, digging into his behind, but he almost relished the pressing pain. It didn't hurt like ripping did, or cutting, or pulling. "If you want to get a good score, you sleep, District 11."

"Right."

They both remained silent. The girl from District 2 seemed to be fidgeting, as if both wanting to leave, and say something more. She walked over to the railings, as far away from him as she could get, and tapped her fingernails against the sharp tips. "I'm Korina Mawer." She said all of a sudden, breaking the uncomfortable silence. Her tone was brash, her voice gravelly; Nickel was no great judge of character, but he was almost certain she was putting it on. There was something about her somewhat meek appearance, and the low, hoarse voice that went with it.

Nickel paused for a second, unsure if he wanted to reply. He swung his legs back and forth, hanging his head back over the seemingly endless abyss. His blonde hair hung back, his eyes huge and mesmerised by the bright stars, his mouth hanging a little open. "Nickel." He replied, and swung back completely, his torso disappearing, his legs still gripping onto the metal.

When he came back up, his hair was messy and tangled over his forehead, and there was a wide, wolfish grin on his face. Adrenaline. I can feel adrenaline. I can feel adrenaline! His heart was still pounding from the experience of hanging over the Capitol, only his legs holding him in place. His heels digging into the railings, Nickel hopped down, and rolled his shoulders back. "I like that." Nickel said, his childish grin widening ever further, stretching his face out like a Jack O' Lantern. "It's a rushing feeling. I've never felt it before."

Korina stared at him. She looked a little confused, noticeably anxious, and also slightly as if she might burst out laughing. Slamming both hands over her mouth, she tried to choke down the inevitable laughter. As she laughed, Nickel's smile faded, and became a small frown. He crossed his arms and observed her carefully, narrowing his eyes. When people laughed at other people, the proper reaction was for the person being laughed at to become irritable.

Eventually, when Korina stopped giggling, Nickel dropped the expression off his face, and went back to his usual blank look. He observed her momentarily. Then, he said, "Why are you here?"

This question seemed to take her by surprise. She blustered for a few seconds, apparently unsure of what to say, and blew out a long breath. "N-no reason, I..." Korina stopped herself. She looked down at the ground, and her expression suddenly became more sombre. It seemed like she was having an internal battle with herself, although Nickel didn't recognise this. After a little while, she let out a shaky breath, as if making a huge choice. Then, she said, in a voice so quiet that Nickel could scarcely hear her, "My district partner scares me. He's... I don't know... I-I don't want to be in the same apartment as him anymore, Nickel. I heard things about him. Bad things, in m-my..."

All of a sudden, Korina shook her head, and her expression visibly hardened. She jutted her chin out imperiously, and tossed her thick ponytail back. In a matter of seconds, she went from a frightened little girl to a Career. A merciless, bloodthirsty Career.

Of course, Nickel did not understand this. Her sudden change in emotion was odd. He didn't like it.

"You won't tell anyone about this," Korina said, all of a sudden. She was hard once more; a cold, hard pillar. A selfish bitch. She took a deep breath, trying to maintain eye-contact. "This never happened. Mention it to anyone, and I-I'll..."

"Okay." Nickel said, and forced a wide, unpleasant grin onto his own face, much to Korina's bemusement.

"Right."

MIM FUZE, DISTRICT 5

Mim Fuze narrowed her eyes at her district partner, tilting her head to one side with a vaguely suspicious look. Although Lukas had told her his plan the previous night, and had come up with a rather good story to go with it, she wasn't quite sure if she liked it. She had spent the entire day in training mulling over the possibilities of her possible imminent betrayal, and had ended up tripping over on the Gauntlet, kneeing herself in the face, and humiliating herself in front of everyone. The boy from District 8 and the girl from District 4 had been laughing hardest, and Mim had ended up having to be patched up. She now had a large, unsightly bruise on the left side of her face.

They were sat in her room; Mim was leaning against the colourful headboard of her bed, and Lukas was sat in a comfortable armchair, situated a couple of metres or so away from her. A lit cigarette illuminated his face, sending smoke spiralling up towards the ceiling. "We'd make a good team. Get some people together, and take out the Careers as a group. Knock off the bigger ones, and take our chances from there."

"You make it sound as if it's something simple to kill somebody," Mim replied quietly. It was the first thing she'd said in quite a while, which was surprising for her; usually, she would be full of smart remarks, that he would rebuff goodnaturedly, and continue on his ambitious rants. She tilted her head back, and narrowed her eyes at him. "You used to be part of a gang. So you killed people. Right?"

Lukas thought for a second. He took the cigarette out of his mouth, and brought it down to his side, blowing several smoke rings out of his lips. His face remained completely stoic. "Never actually killed a person. I beat people up for money, for Mr. Arsenio. Never any need to kill... But I'm sure it'll be fine. My dad was a murderer."

He said this casually, as if it was completely normal, and Mim let out a low giggle. He brought the cigarette up to his lips again, illuminating his face; there was a smile attempting to fight its way onto his face, and he was barely concealing it. "What?" Lukas asked, recognising the fact that she was laughing. "It's a very serious business."

I can't tell how much you're making up, Mr. Bright, Mim thought to herself, stifling another laugh. She kept a faux serious look on her face, and her mind began to spin as she thought to herself. Tapping her fingers on her thighs, she drummed out a little rhythm. He's not trustworthy. I think he's manipulative, and he's a thug. But he's strong. Is it worth the risk?

I'll have to think about this a little more.

Mim battled with her own thoughts, whilst pretending to listen to Lukas talk in short sentences about his plans. Some of them were intelligent, others were completely foolish; sometimes, Mim wondered if he understood that some of them were completely impossible, or if he was just messing with her head. Playing mind games.

With this boy, nothing would really surprise her.

Suddenly, Mim realised that her eyelids were drooping. It was too late for this sort of thing- past midnight, certainly- and she didn't like the fact that Lukas was keeping her awake with his ranting. She let out a yawn, and rubbed her eyes with the back of her arm, wincing as her arm hit the bruise on the side of her face.

"Lukas, I'm really tired. Can we continue this in the morning?" She said, letting out another yawn.

For a moment, Lukas looked like he was going to refuse. He took his cigarette out of his mouth, and observed her calmly. Then, he got up from the chair, walked over to her bedside table, and stubbed it out on her empty mug, which had once contained hot cocoa, that he himself had brought her. Now, it contained cigarette ash.

"Don't let the bed-bugs bite." He said shortly, nodding at her, as he made his way towards the door. Mim watched him leave drowsily, reaching down to her soft blankets, and pulling them up to her chin. He was still hovering by the door, searching through his pockets. For a second, it seemed like he'd never leave. But then, Lukas found what he was searching for, tipped his head back, and popped it into his mouth, swallowing after he was done.

"Night, night." Lukas murmured- for some reason, he sounded a lot drowsier than before- and walked out of the room, shutting the door behind him gently. Mim heard him shambling down the corridor, his feet dragging on the carpet, before there was the sound of a door opening and shutting.

What did he just do? What is he doing?

Immediately, her heart began to pound faster, almost hurting her ribcage. She wiped her eyes with her hand, rubbing the dust out of them, and felt sleepier than ever. However, when she attempted to close her eyes, it seemed that she couldn't quite keep them shut. They kept fluttering, until she eventually chose to keep them open, staring up at the ceiling.

Shit! What's going on?!

After this chapter, Mim and Lukas both get increasingly badass. I think you're going to like what I have planned for those two, and their "associates". So yeah, I'm up at 2:30am. Pretty intense insomnia.