She saw his shaven head peeking through the crowd, as he opened his way to her. Then, his green eyes filled with anger as he pushed in to the line of peacekeepers, hopelessly trying to get across.

MAX! – Cossette screamed from the top of her lungs – Get out of here, NOW!– and instinctively tried to reach for him, getting off the stage, just to be pinned down by a group of sturdy peacekeepers that dragged back on again. The crowd was getting restless, with people pushing, shoving, screaming and peeking at the action. The chaos distracted Max's peacekeepers and he rushed through the square, running like a lunatic. It was hopeless though. A nearby peacekeeper tased him to the ground, and dragged him of the square, with the shouts of the disapproval from the mob. The cameras were sure to film the scene, which was being broadcasted live to all the nation, reinforcing 8's reputation as a rebellious district. Then it was when, a group of clearly unhappy people, charged at the peacekeepers, and someone ripped half of Muffin Man's moustache, that heavy artillery was brought. With the first shoots at the sky, the commotion eased, giving Johns time to try and pin back his mutilated facial hair back in to place – which he failed. He wove his arms up and down, trying to settle the crowd

- Now that's a party my good people! – he gave a dry laugh - Panem knows there is no show like in 8, am I right?

There was a moment of silence, until someone screamed:

- MUFFIN MAN! – another anonymous person was dragged away from the square, leaving the crowd shamelessly laughing.

The time that took Johns to finally shut up and discipline the crowd, was enough for Cosette to dry her tears, but not enough for the redness on her eyes to vanish. It was clear that she had been sobbing like a baby, and the cameras were too distracted with the attempted riot to pay any attention to her. After all she was just a sacrifice. And, as reality started to sink in, she felt glad that her tears weren't caught on camera. I decide the way I want to go. I am the master of my own death. I might go down screaming, but definitely not crying. I'm not a little bitch. She kept that last one as a personal mantra. I'm not a little bitch. I'm not a little bitch. Jonhs walked up to her, wrapped his arm around her, and asked:

- What's the matter sugar puff?

What's the matter with you? Are you retarded? That's why you are a muffin that will never grow up to be a cake! – Cosette thought, removing the surprised expression on her face – the result of such an insultuously stupid remark; I'm going to die fatso! – and replaced it with a determined one. With a swift move, she grabbed the microphone from his hands, and facing the cameras straight up, declared:

- I'm just too honored to be a part in the glorious tradition that are the Hunger Games.

He patted her shoulder, and walked away to the cylinder:

- Now, let's see who gets to join you – using your words – in this glorious endeavor… - again, it took him an unnecessarily long amount of time, and a lot of bravado to finally pull off the second name – Oh, now that's unfortunate – he took another pause to sigh and lift his eyes over the paper – DORIAN BABBS!

The crowd open once more, to reveal the figure of a clearly mentally disabled boy. Tesarae rules do not specify the conditions in which someone is eligible to apply. So, his family might took the risk of just signing him, over and over again, sparing is healthy siblings - whom are obviously, the ones who bring food to the table. The boy was not aware of his surroundings, let alone that he had just been sentenced to die.

- Can some one…you know, bring him up here? – Nobody responded to Muffin Man's appeal – Swetheart, can you understand me? I. Am. Jonhs. Can. You. Understand?

The broadcast had taken a turn to the depressive, as some peacekeepers tried to bring a distressed screaming boy on stage. The crowd had just beginning to buzz again, as a little hand stood up. All heads turned when young Alphose Williams declared:

- I'll go. I volunteer to go on his turn.

As the citizens of 8 watched mesmerized, as this brave soul walked across them. Silently, respectfully. Their silence was just broken by the sound banging wood. Cosette had just fallen in to her knees, muffling the screams that tried to escape her mouth with both hands.