It is time for the daunting time of training. Will Jonathan and Katie survive through the rigorous gauntlet? Who is the mysterious District 6 boy that District 12 has seemed to anger?

Katie and I collapsed the minute we walked through the door, our feet and legs exhausted after having been on them for so long. I registered my face hitting something soft on the ground, and then my district partner plopping unceremoniously on top of me after that. Her extra weight was quite unnecessary if my pained groan had been anything to go by. She apologized immediately, rolling off of me to where she faced the sky. A rush of blood to the head still lingered around somewhat, after hearing all the noise. The people of Panem - well, the Capitol, at least, and I believe that is where it matters the most - loved us, and it was ironic how all Katie and I had to do was stand out there and look somewhat like we were having a decent time. Everything has been outlandish and all, but nothing of a negative experience in the two days since being reaped. A positive spin, which I liked.

Georgia sneered at us after watching our discombobulated collapse to the floor, stepping over us, her high heels missing Katie's temple by a only an inch or so. Had she been inclined to - which I didn't exactly what to bet about - feel particularly ticked off and end my district partner's life, she could've sent her heel down, down into Katie's skull. My chest rose and fell with each labored breath, accounting one of the two members in charge of our little group. Where was the man of honor?

As if I called him out of thin air, Henry appeared! His hair was a glossy brown from sweat, having been stuck in a cramped box with all of the other mentors to watch their tributes be darling and show-offish. He seemed more fatigued than Katie and I, which I found odd, but I figured it was due to probably being around these ingrates for more than two seconds. It didn't seem to change his attitude however! Good ole cheeky Henry Kraving to the rescue! He muttered something about wanting a drink, hobbling over to the immediate counter that held the closest alcoholic beverage. I watched him sluggishly pour a drink - scotch perhaps - into a glass, where he rose it to his lips. He didn't get far in that endeavor, ended short when Georgia slapped it out of his hands. He glared at her with the force of a thousand suns, and in my mind I found it impossible to think that this young adult glaring at the Capitol adult used to be a timid, scared fourteen year-old who couldn't even raise a knife to kill someone.

Giving up on the idea of getting drunk, Henry sighed, walking over to us. He held out his hand for Katie, and then I.

Katie and I made our way to our feet.

"You two should change," he said, his face wising up. "There's a lot Rose and Rev wish to discuss with you."

Neither one of us were hard pressed to argue, simply nodding our heads. Though I don't think it mattered which bedroom her or I picked, we both seemed to gravitate towards one of them at opposite ends of the hall just centered away from the dining room table and kitchen. She shut her door, and I shut mine. Turning back around, I stayed pressed up against the door, taking it all in for a moment. I couldn't get the District 6 male's face out of my mind, with the fire burning in his eyes, or the way he advanced on us as if he was going to kill us right then and there. His sister didn't seem to be in that much better of a mood, but she nonetheless kept her temper down, something I wasn't against happening. I am no psychic, but I predict here and now that they're pissed, and it looks like Katie and I might be their targets. Great.

Just great.

I peeled off the suit, letting the sweaty and sticky fabric fall to the floor. My crown was placed on a shelf above the bed, which caused me to snort as I put it there. You could practically see it now, in the headlines, Jonathan Crimson, District 12 male tribute killed in the middle of the evening by forced trauma to the head. A crown of gold for a king killing him on the spot. What a shitty way that'd be to die... not even getting a chance to fight in an arena and prove my nonexistent worth.

Opening one of the closets on the far wall - did there need to be four separate closets? - I picked the first outfit I saw, not particularly caring what it was, and threw it on. Looking down, as I didn't want to walk out technically naked for a group pow-wow, I was satisfied by the selection; a simple velvety, see through shirt. Looking back longingly at the bed, I wanted nothing more than to fall asleep into its depths and be swept away forever and ever under its protective covering. Opening my door, I joined Katie and the others back in the dining room.

The main room was in the same posh condition as the Capitol train, with glass windows that let you see all the way out into the Capitol skyline, bright lights and neon colors dancing together in a frenzied movement in the sky. As I sat down, Henry ordered water from the avoxes in the room and each did so silently. Though I hadn't personally ever met an Avox, I knew what they were. Generally one was a Capitol traitor of some kind who had their tongue cut for disobedience of some such law or other... they couldn't speak, laugh, smile... I suppose many things couldn't be achieved anymore because of disobeying the Capitol. Rose ordered something called a martini - I am learning new words every day it seems - while Rev wanted a beer. I have heard of a beer before, which is what the miners would take to them for work and then their wives would wonder exactly how they'd be die from a mining accident once intoxicated. When Rose got her drink, she swirled the straw around for a bit, plucked off the olive, and drank it in seconds. Talk about a drinking problem. Sheesh.

Rev received his beer, and Henry gave us the two waters he ordered. Katie seized hers immediately, her arm crossing over my body to take it. Our mentor got a third water after we got ours, sipping it some. I pushed the glass around on the table between my hands, the coldness of the glass and the condensation sending chills down my spine. Henry sipped his water some more before sitting up, folding his hands together. The four adults at the table looked at each other in the eyes, nodding. Rev started the procession by burping, blushing, and shifting in his seat.

"Rose and I though of a way, though it is nothing more than an idea, to add more sponsors."

Katie and I shared a glance. "Go on," I said softly.

"Have you ever heard of Katniss and Peeta from District 12?" Rev asked.

I wished I could somehow have a photograph of what happened next. Henry spewed water - perhaps out of surprise, as I suppose this must've been the first time he was hearing this idea - over Georgia, who shrieked and comically fell out of her chair and onto the dining room tile. A few of the avoxes helped her up, all the while Katie and I simply nodded. "Yeah, so?" she asked.

Rose clasped her hands. "As you know, Katniss and Peeta were killed in the 75th Hunger Games for blowing up the arena. Haymitch, the old District 12 victor was killed in an uprising in the now re-destroyed District 13. They were quite significant to the old era of the Games, and they used to bring a lot of attention."

"We know that," Katie interrupted. "They tell us every year when we learn about the Hunger Games. Katniss and Peeta originally had some love angle called the Star-Crossed Lovers, both won after a bullshit rule, got picked again, and they both died in the arena. Katniss died to a concussion from Johanna Mason of District 7, and Peeta lost it, so Finnick Odair had to kill him..." she recited. "Finnick was tortured, and then the plot of the 75th Hunger Games turned into a potential success into a down spiraling nightmare which got Haymitch killed... leaving District 12 victor less."

"Such a shame," Henry clucked his tongue. "I could potentially have someone helping me throughout this whole ordeal. Screw the Capitol."

"Why do Katniss and Peeta matter to us now?" I asked, looking between the stylists.

Rev shared a glance with Rose. "We were hoping that you guys could pretend to be in love. Return to the old roots..."

I buried my hands in my face. I was sort of thinking that would be their line of thought, from the moment they mentioned them. Part of me thought it dealt with tracker jackers, or nightlock, or something other than their potential love angle. To make matters worse, my tie with Katie is that she has a tie with Bailey, and I'm not quite so sure where I nor my heart stand with her. "That would only work for the cameras though," I protested once I removed my hands from my face. "Only one person can live, and the Capitol isn't stupid enough to try and repeat past mistakes."

"There's always a catch," Rose pointed out, taking an ice cube in her hand. "Nowadays, with Lee as our president, he always finds loopholes to insert somewhere."

"And they've all ended in disaster, mind you," Henry rolled his eyes. "Last year, when that Jasmine girl won, there had been talk of her and her Career partner winning as some sort of power couple, the silent but deadly type. Then she accidentally killed him and there was that."

Katie frowned. "You can't ask me to do that. Either I like the person I'm with or I hate the person I'm with," she rubbed the back of her neck. "I couldn't hate Jonathan, let alone kill him."

Rev chuckled for some reason, though I didn't know why. None of this sat in my stomach the right way, feeling slightly uneasy at every sudden movement. Why was my escort team deciding to pull up past wrongs of Panem and try to spin them around to make them work? I hadn't really the faintest idea, but I figured that we might as well go along.

"I don't think we should do it," I said honestly. "Whatever it is, I don't think Katie and I would feel comfortable lying. I'd rather kill." Those words sounded extremely foreign to me, even though I'd kill in the wooded areas outside my district like it was no problem.

"Don't want you following in them in their footsteps." Georgia sniffed. "I could see why you wouldn't be comfortable with that."

"What would you rather have us do?" Katie asked.

Henry rubbed his chin thoughtfully. "I didn't have a mentor when going this personal hell. You two are lucky. I decided not to do anything, really," he admitted. "Being scared and shitting my pants was the only thing I knew how to do, when thinking about it back then," Henry shrugged his shoulders. "It's the stupidest thing I could say, but I believe it'd be best for you two to do whatever you want. After all, only one can win."

"Only one can win."

I felt my arms get cold, not wanting to sit at the table any longer. "Isn't it getting late? Should we be heading to bed?"

Georgia turned around to look at a clock on the wall, a slight gasp coming from her lips when she realized what time it was. "Henry, my god! If they don't get some sleep now, they'll be a beat behind everyone else tomorrow!"

Rev leaned into Rose's ear space. "And the queen for the most daring dramatics go to..."

Henry clapped the table, downing the rest of his water. "Off you two," he said, regarding Katie and I. "Before this one blows a gasket. Get a good night's rest. You have a lot of work tomorrow."

Katie and I nodded solemnly and trudged off to bed. I whispered good night to Katie and fell asleep in my room, the eyes of the forever loyal avoxes boring into the wall. I fell asleep and began to dream. I dreamed I was back in District 12, strolling the streets with Bailey. It seemed to be a normal day, our game bags thrown over our shoulders, the clouds in the sky bright, fluffy, and the day feeling no different than any other. Sounds filled the air, a deadly vacuum deserted to be immediately rushed where the noise built, built, and built. Capitol guards came from the sky and fired at us; a decadent shower of slate, steel, blood, and agony. I moved as if I had been invisible, dodging bullets left and right. Though I have never been shot or shot at - amen to the Peacekeepers being craven beasts with nothing other than dreariness to fill their time - I have heard stories of what these bullets could do. Bailey wouldn't be that lucky; bullets ripping her to shreds. I would launch myself at the President, who was standing a few feet away ordering our deaths. I would shoot an arrow at his heart and the President would grab me by the throat. Usually the face would be Lucas, much older and much more evil looking but, now it was the boy from six. I would kick in anger and it would be futile, he would choke me to death. Some invisible force would drop me from the President and then they would vanish. Bailey would be on the ground, the life draining out of her. I would scream her name, and nothing would happen. Bailey would be on her back, her eyes glassy. I would stand helpless, watching the crimson river flow over my hands.

I woke with a start, the avox near me jumping up startled. "Sorry, I had a nightmare."

The avox nodded sternly. Suddenly, there was a loud rasp on the door. "GET UP!" Henry screamed behind the door. Oh, it is almost as if I had forgotten where I ended up, stuck in this hell of a place with nothing better to do than have nightmares of best friends and presumable love interests die.

"Coming!" I moaned, swinging my legs over the bed. I was in pain, and from what my arm felt like, I had been sleeping on it. Explaining that to Lucas had been one of the most stressful days in my life, I was ten, he six and he woke the entire house up, screaming, always screaming. "My arm! My arm! What's happened to my arm?"

I swung the door open, to then close it with a slam and noticed that Katie hadn't fared that well either. She stood in the gap of her door, looking at the mirror next to the left wall. When we locked eyes, her gaze fell from mine first, fixing herself into the training uniform given to us by the Capitol. A nice, sleek gray jumper with our number written in bold red on the back as if anyone would ever forget who we were. Katie made her way towards me. "I heard you screaming," she whispered as we reached in the center of the hallway.

I widened my eyes. "I was that loud?" my voice sounding aghast. I haven't had that particular nightmare in months, truth be told, and it must be the gaiety of the occasion to bring me back to the roots of terrified shouts in desolate hallways. "I- I'm sorry."

She chewed on the bottom of her lip. "I wanted to wake you up, but I didn't know if it would be inappropriate..."

"I'm sorry if I woke you up."

"Only a few times. I couldn't sleep either," she said. At my feigned expression, she added further onto the sentence. "It didn't bother me, Jonathan, honestly! You're allowed to feel... scared?"

"I appreciate that, I really do."

My district partner made a face, and I mentally slapped myself across the face. My sarcastic tone was going to kill me one of these days, I swear. "Were you having a nightmare?" she asked me, and by this point her and I had sat down at the table. Georgia seemed to be nowhere that I could see her at the least, and I could hear Henry muttering to himself in the kitchen; it sounded like humming actually, but here, I couldn't deem what was fright or joy.

"Yeah..." I drew out the word, my fingernails digging into the edges of the table.

"What about?" Katie's voice piqued with curiosity, and when I looked back at her, her emerald eyes are innocent of all deviousness, a silent wonder, and it racks in my brain what could she possibly be interested about with my nightmares.

"I'd- I'd rather not say," I stuttered, grabbing an apple from the basket in the center of the table. Sunlight streamed through the open windows, avoxes bustling about like the machinations they've been curtailed to be.

Katie sucked on the bottom of her lip, turning her head away from me, and it felt like the conversation took a nose-dive right then and there.

A jar slammed onto the table, causing us both to jump. Of course it wouldn't be anyone other than Henry, the idiotic git ass that he is. My mind snapped back at me, that this eighteen year-old that I cannot seem to stand is a victor, meaning he survived the Hunger Games not too long ago, and I really need to take his word as the gospel. "Okay you two," he began, sitting down, holding a biscuit in one hand, a butter knife in the other, "Training starts in about fifteen minutes. I figured you'd want my lasting advice," ending the sentence with a grin as he chomped down on the biscuit.

"We're glad you're concerned," Katie started.

"Oh no, I'm not concerned," he cut her off, mouth full of dough. "It is part of my job to act like I care, and it's been a pretty terrible track record so far, so we'll see how this goes, shall we?" He set the knife down, and I can see that Katie's eyes are following them with every second, every miniscule second, as if she'd grab it and slit our mentor's throat with it. "Granted, you two have given quite the entrance, following in others' footsteps...?"

"And is that supposed to mean something?"

"Whatever you want it to mean, sweetheart," Henry licked his lips, sitting up. "Any special skills? Generally I get two frightened Seam kids who have lost both their parents, or merchant children that have never toiled anything more than a knapsack in their life. It seems like what you two may lack in strength is made up in spades by star quality."

I decided to take a gambit and go first, though sometimes I think I can get ahead of myself. "I'm an archer," at which Henry's eyes lit up. "I'd say I'm decent, but no Career, if that's what you're asking. I learned from my father."

"Just like Katniss," Henry noticed. "That's funny, isn't it Jonathan?"

I furrowed my eyebrows together, not quite getting what he meant. "What do you mean?"

"You and your district partner are entirely against trying to fight as the two star-crossed lovers in the arena yet here you are replicating every single step. I wonder why that is," and he moved onto Katie before I could even try and rebuttal that accusation. "You?" he asked her.

Katie shrugged, a blush creeping up at the base of her neck. "I... uh... nothing. I don't fight on a regular basis. No weapons," part of her actually sounded ashamed at this. She perked her head up, then, "Although I am fast. I am the top racer of all the girls in our school."

Henry scowled. "Well, congrats to you." Why do I have a feeling that this man is going to be the complete and total end of us?

The three of us sat in a precocious silence, all that time being filled by the sound of Henry eating breakfast. He had an easy day, a day filled with lounging around the Capitol and dreaming of where his next vacation would be. Meanwhile, Katie and I get to fight for our lives and see the cream of the crop of presumable killers down below. I wondered what they'd all be like; everyone but the boy and girl from Six and I think we'd be okay. I began tapping on the table, clucking my tongue. "Shouldn't Katie and I go down now? Get there early so we're not late?" I asked.

Henry nodded, finishing the rest of his biscuit. He stood from the table, wiping at his mouth. "Try not and drag too much attention to yourselves. The hidden enemy is always the best one," and without another word he turned to go back into the kitchen. Katie made a movement to try and follow him, but I stopped her before she could get too far away into some ridiculous idea.

"I'd let him be," I advised. "If we wants to help us, he will, but not before."

She set her jaw, eyes dead set on the floor. "Fine. Are you ready?"

A compliant nod took us on our way, and before the elevator doors closed, Henry rounded the corner, eyes bright and alit as if he had been stopped with another idea. "Hold hands on the way down, make it seem like you love each other!"

His voice dissipated against the blocked doors, the Earth moved, and the elevator lowered. Katie and I glanced elsewhere than at each other, and only when the digital red '4' transitioned to '3' did she open her mouth to speak. "I think they're stupid if the Capitol would fall for another Katniss and Peeta," I nodded, agreeing. "I thought they were joking. I mean, they wouldn't be serious would they?" Katie bickered.

"Who knows what these people are really thinking."

"You holding up alright?" she asked.

"As good as anyone can do, I presume," I said, crossing my arms. Our elevator hit '0' with a DING and the elevator doors slid open.

"Just focus on the task at hand," I whispered.

"And what task would that be?"

"That is to be friendly. How many enemies are we really going to want by the time this thing even begins?" I hissed. We stepped out of the elevator, which closed behind us, and the noise caused the tributes in the room to whirl around and look at us.

Solid stares. Silent stares, mean and vicious gazes that couldn't be crueler even if they all tried. The Career pack assembled in a corner, blonde and dark haired teenagers who are so good at killing, they get a name for themselves. How quaint. Luckily, for the two of us - that being Katie and myself - that guy from District 6 and his sister hadn't arrived yet. Jealousy lingered on a few of the tributes' faces, but moreso directed at the Career pack of this year than anyone else.

Given there had been nothing other than looking around the room at the possible things to do, I found out that looking at the floor is now a remarkable activity to kill the seconds and minutes of life. In a period of another ten minutes or so, the other tributes had arrived, among them the vicious District 6 duo, and the Gamemakers seated above clapped their hands so the doom could begin.

A woman named Atala walked out of one of the sections on the wall, a clipboard in her hand, faced aged slightly, dark hair against the back of her shoulder. Behind her stood a man, vicious and stunning near amaranthine colored eyes flashing out behind an anemic skull. This man was Wyatt Crane, Seneca Crane's thirty year old son who took Plutarch's place when he was killed in the rebellion of District 13, for the second time. After the failed rebellion took place and the old completely died out, it ushered in a new legacy where all the political positions had been filled out by the male children of those previously holding said positions. The apple didn't fall too far from the tree.

Atala clapped her hands together, which I found odd given the whistle hanging around her neck, and it drew our attention up and directly at her. "Welcome to the Training Room tributes, my name is Atala," she began. "I'm your head trainer. In two weeks, twenty three of you will be dead and one will be alive. Who that is depends on what I'm particularly about to what I'm going to say. First, no fighting with the other tributes. Secondly, don't ignore the survival skills. 10% of you will die from starvation. 20% from dehydration and infection. Exposure can kill as easily as a knife."

She dismissed us with that lovely speech, and the tributes fanned out like a virus, people literally running to reach certain fighting stations. By the time chaos had cleared, Katie and I were the only two who hadn't moved, and that had been because everything else became swamped with the excited flesh of teenagers destined to kill.

I could see that the Careers were as intimidating as ever. Looking at everyone else's uniforms, I saw that our names were also etched into the back of the jumper, near our right shoulder blade. The girl from District 1 was named Leeane, her stunning blonde hair dousing out the archery station as she plucked at arrow tips, shooting down the range, the THUMP, THUMP echoing off the walls as her targets landed with deadly precision. The boy from One, though I could not see his name, had gotten on the wrestling mat, fighting with the male from District 4, where the fight ended with a slug being delivered, teeth being sent flying, and scarlet spewing everywhere. Over by the knife station stood the girl from two, body bent over a blade, and the other tributes I could find hadn't been doing much else. I scanned the other tributes and I was amazed at the skill the tributes this year had to provide. The boy from District 3 was shooting darts into targets, doing pretty well for a crippled, but there would be no way he would live past the Cornucopia if he honestly couldn't walk. Both tributes from Six caught my eye, amazing with axes in a spectacular dance of grayscale and cardinal paint, throwing the blades with such precision that I even heard the sound of their impact from where I was standing. The boy from Nine managed to get into the rigging of the Training Center and threw a spear. The accuracy couldn't have been any more better than the Career from District 1, and honestly the boy from 9 was better than him. Katie flinched when the spear landed on the heart section of the dummy, the crowd speechless.

"Um, so what do you want to do?" Katie asked nervously, hands wringing her uniform. It looked like our idea of staying under the radar had been going quite, oh quite swimmingly.

I looked around again. "How about knives? There's only one tribute; it should be fun!"

Katie's mouth turned into a smirk. "Sure. Why not?"

Holding Katie's hand, and ignoring the pointed glares and snickers from the other twenty-two tributes we made our way to the ribald circle of knives. The girl from two looked up, having been the one to occupy the station. "Altha," she said quietly when noticing our presence, and she went back to scrutinizing the blade laid out on the table for her.

I look at the girl in confusion. "What?"

The girl huffed, "My name is Altha, the female Career from District 2. Now please stand back."

Katie gave me a glance. "Why is she even speaking to us?" she whispered.

"Doing the same advice Henry told us?" I shrugged. "Maybe so she can stick a knife in our back later. I dunno, Katie."

We watched as Altha drew back the knife and tossed the blade. With a sickening sound, the knife sliced through the air, impaling the target. Metal hits metal, the sound reverberated, and Katie's eyebrows lift up in an impressed manner. Altha turned around, her face in a wicked grin. "Why don't you give it a try? I've already been told that your district partner here can throw a knife. Apparently she threw one and cut open your mentor's wrist?"

"How would you know about that?" Katie protested.

Altha waved her hand away from the question. "It was on the news. Someone made a blab about in the training session and now everyone in the building knows you can fight," she extended her hand out, holding the handle of the blade to Katie. "Now, throw. Let me see if you are as good as these dumb citizens say you are."

Katie stepped up to the plate and grabbed the knife, dodging Altha's stare. I heard her breathe slowly, in and out her chest expanded, arm poised, arm up, and then she threw. The knife soared through the air, landing well on the target, in the arm where a nicked artery or vein could probably lead to someone bleeding out if they weren't careful. I could hear a pin drop in the place, which I found quite... interesting to say the least. Seeing that everyone's eyes were on us, Altha turned around, her grin still there, a new knife held out to me.

"Your turn, Jonathan."

"No, I am not a-" I opened my mouth to rebuttal.

"Throw. The. Knife," Altha spoke between her gritted teeth, eyes narrowed in a glare.

Not thinking clearly, I sneered, wrenching the weapon out of the girl's hand. I politely waited for Katie to step out of the way, planted my feet, and didn't even hesitate chucking the knife across the range. Not only did my irrationality not get me anything other than disappointment, it riled up embarrassment, as my throw proved I do not have great hand-to-eye coordination as the blade dove, missing the target entirely.

"Hey Jonathan," a voice behind me shouted, and when I turned, I knew exactly who it was. That boy from District 6, the guy whose fire laced stare bore into my soul last night, "Your district partner, a girl," as if that had anything to do with the fact I messed up, "throws better than you!" he shouted. Most of the guys in the training center laughed at that, one resounding sound, one resounding yell to humiliate me. Katie opened her mouth, perhaps to rush to my defense, but it is an availing effort drowned by chuckling and tittering.

"Lone, be nice," admonished the girl next to him, this Lone or whatever his name was. I assumed it must've been his sister, given their similarity in hair style and look. "You can be rude to him later; right now he's practicing trying not to suck! Be rude when you kill him in the arena," his district partner chided.

My face reddened. Oh, no, I am not letting that slide. Tell me how much I suck, fine by all things considered, but don't not call me a threat. He'd see soon enough, they'd all see. Ignoring Katie's protests, I stormed over to the bow and arrow station. Pushing the tribute standing there out of the way, I wrenched a bow off the rack, several arrows left for anyone's discretion. The target lay in perfect sight, for me, for everyone to witness, and my modesty is going out the window. I am a good shooter; everyone has told me I am, it must be true. I pulled back on the string, my fingers hesitating. I could... and my thoughts betrayed me. Whirling around, I kept clenching the bow, my arrow now pointed right at Lone's head. The other tributes gasped, and before I could fire and end that miserable son of a bitch's life, Katie leaped in front of the station, blocking me from him. Had I decided to release the grip on the bowstring, my district partner would be dead beyond dead.

"No!" she whispers to me, though her voice is a hushed whisper. The anger receded from me in a second, and before anything else could happen, such as Lone bringing the world down on my head, the adults intervened.

"Lunch!" Atala announced above the clamor, with a whistle. Some tributes scrambled away from me and the rest of those gathered, whereas the Careers and Lone alongside his sister remained.

I throw the bow onto the ground in fury, avoiding Katie as I stormed by her. "You're lucky I was feeling compassionate, or I would have killed you!" I snarled into his face.

Lone laughed, an expression that read 'as if, you fool' and continued making faces to mock me. "Yeah, good luck with that, District 12," he said, pushing past me with a shove, marching up the stairs to go and get lunch.

Katie ran back up to me, face cross "You can't act like that, being one of those loose cannons. You're going to get yourself killed! What were you thinking, Jonathan? He insulted you, that's all!" she said. "What happened to blending in?"

I glared at her. "Why are you taking their side? We are district partners! You're supposed to support me!"

"But the rules-"

"Well, screw the rules, Katie! He thought I wasn't lethal!"

"So? Underdogs are-"

"Had I proved I was a good archer, and that you've got good aim, we could be a power couple!"

"A power couple? Jonathan, do you hear yourself?"

"What do you want me to say? That I'm sorry?"

"Just don't be so stupid next time."

I balled my hands into fists. "For a district partner, Katie, it sounds like you rather I lay down in some ditch and die, wouldn't you?"

Katie tried to object, but I was not having it any more than she was going to try and convince me. She closed her mouth, turning from me, and up the steps her and I went. Lunch was being held on a different veranda than the training center, similar to the level where the Gamemakers sat. The food had been displayed out on a buffet table, where each pair of tributes went two at a time and dished whatever they wanted to eat. Katie went first, grabbing a plate from the rack, making sure she got into the other buffet line opposite mine. If she wanted to be mad at me, by all means, I'd let her. The thought that there is ever only one victor sat on my mind; all of this interactive stuff is futile if only one of us is making out of it alive. I filled my plate with ham and mashed potatoes, the closest looking like meal to what I'd eat at home. I would probably shoot a wild pig for the ham and then the potatoes would maybe take a few squirrels. A jar of sweet liquid was on a table and I quickly filled my glass and took a sip. My nose filled with the scent of rose petals and my mouth filled with the taste of honey. Only when Katie shouted did I break back into reality; her voice jarred against the clash of beauty, harmony, and sweetness.

"Jon!" Katie called. I turned, finding her over near one of the back corners. Great, leave it to my district partner to have us sit in the dejected area of the veranda where everyone knows we're not having fun mingling. "Sit here."

I walked over and clunked my tray on the table, sitting down only to then notice that we weren't alone. Katie had some company with her, however, and then I realized that she had sat down next to everyone, so yep, she picked the dejected tribute. I stopped when I saw the tributes, half stuck between sitting down and remaining standing up.. The tributes from Districts 3, 5, 7, and 11 were sitting with us, or rather us with them.

"Oh... hello," I said blushing. I hadn't quite expected being in the whole 'party' circle for lunch.

Katie stood, apparently having met the rest of this hearty gang while I had taken my sweet merry little time enjoying the honey tasting liquids. "Jonathan, this is Colby from District 3," Colby smiled weakly, shifting his crutch. So that was his name, the crippled male from District 3 with dart prowess. "And this is Felice from District 5," Felice waved her hand, her red hair flowing in the air conditioner breeze, eyes downcast at the plate as she nibbled on a loaf of bread. "They are District 7, Leema and Lyon," Katie continued, going to the pair next to Felice. Both tributes had tanner skin than anything Katie nor I have ever dreamed of. On the prompt, Leema blushed, saying to me that she was only twelve, while Lyon held her protectively. He gave me a glance, obviously deciding whether I would kill him or not. His facial expressions gave it away. "And finally Madison and Ramon from District 11, brother and sister."

Huh. Another sibling pair, the odds being...?

Ramon stood up rounding his introduction, broad shouldered, deep voiced. He must have been eighteen, perhaps seventeen, but nothing young, and definitely not weak whereas Madison had been the twelve year-old I noticed getting reaped. "Katie had joined up at the time the rest of us came up with the idea that we should all be allies."

I choked on my ham. "All eight of us?" Then, in my head, "Only one of us is allowed to live. We'd have to all kill each other in the end? How... how could we possibly...?"

Leema nodded enthusiastically. "That's why we want to be allies. You'll find out soon enough."

I stood, infuriated. "Do you know all of these secrets but me?" This had been the third time someone mentioned a rule dealing with allies, unspoken information passed around everyone else that I couldn't figure out; why did the world feel like it has been playing the cruelest joke on me?

Katie held my arm, as my excited state had mashed potatoes flinging around everywhere off my work. "Jon, you need to stop! You're making a scene..."

I glanced back, she was right; Katie Wenshaw is known for being someone that is right. The Careers had their own table, like the usual, but there was Lone and his friends, or tributes I assumed who were friends, as a collection they were snickering. "Alright..." I said, biting down on my lip. Here I am, met with these random strangers that I know absolutely nothing about, and we're about to... I'm about to... oh hell. I am going to hate myself for what I'm about to say, I can tell. "We can be allies..."

Madison cheered. "Thanks, Jonathan!"

I broke a smile at her enthusiasm. We continued our meal, but I stayed silent, and Katie followed my rationale while the other six tributes chattered away. The gears in my head spun, spun and spun and spun.

We were all going to die because of this. I was going to die. Katie was making a rash decision with terrible consequences. Madison, Leema, Colby, and Felice would probably get killed in the Cornucopia. I would kill Lyon and Ramon if it came to protecting Katie or vice versa for them protecting Leema or Madison. If that somehow did not happen and we had all survived the Cornucopia, then the Careers or Lone would probably kill us as well, so I couldn't rule it out. When lunch ended, Katie and I returned to our floor, exhausted by the training regiment. Henry and Georgia pestered us when Katie and I walked in, but I wasn't ready to talk to them, nor we were going to give them the time of day. Before either of them could object I walked into my room and slammed the door. I fell asleep on my bed, collapsing into the sheets, just to dream again.

To dream of these new six tributes I've signed my life to, where my life is in their hands. To dream of their deaths, as scarlet coated my fingertips, and to dream of a future where the Hunger Games didn't exist.

Training couldn't be beat.

Jonathan and Katie have allies! The tributes are their own set of crazy, and this alliance that everyone is hinting at will play a big role, but speculation to keep in mind: Jonathan seems to be a lone wolf, so don't put it past yourselves where his actions may get himself and everyone else killed. Thanks for reading!

~ Paradigm