Author's Notes: Whoa... It's been almost two years! Basically, I went through a rough patch in my life and stopped writing. Also, I'm trying to figure out how the hell i'm supposed to pay for college since I'm graduating high school this year... WELP.

Bitch, I be cray doe. I be cray. We bout to get our twerk on with mah home gurl Miley. We gonna get KFC, den we gonna get some kool-aid all up in this bitch.

Sorry I got carried away.

Have fun. I hope this satisfies your sexual needs for Peeta the sexy, blonde... boy... *drools*. Okay, enjoy.

Part 1: The Tributes

Chapter 6: The Cheeseburger

Once, before my mom turned into a witch, our family went to a lake for summer vacation. My older brothers, being the brothers that they were, dunked me underneath the water until I can feel my lungs shrivel up. I thrashed for air until they finally released me from their grip. I escaped the water's grasp on my lungs and my body gave me no choice other than to take successive breaths of the fruitful air.

That is how it feels to regain consciousness.

Erratically, I open my eyes on the couchat my tribute floor. Haymitch is standing in front of me, and Summer is sitting to the right of my legs.

"Oh, good, you're awake," she says.

Pain instantly ambushes my neck as I turn to face Summer. "Ow! Aw, I feel like crap," I complain while stretching my arms as I yawn. "How did I get up here?"

"Summer saw you unconscious with a bloody neck at the combat station, so she rushed to me immediately. It looks like you lost, but it shows me you're a fighter. You got guts, kid. I like that. Anyway, I delivered you up here and slathered some medicine on your bleeding throat," Haymitch answers.
He's must be sober at the moment because he's not being a douche. My mentor kind of reminds me of my dad. It's probably because he's showing his fatherly side.

I miss my dad. So much. I hope he's getting better.

My left hand ghosts over my neck to feel the warm, slippery concoction. I tilt my head to crack my neck only to be assaulted by pain once more.

"Ow!" I hiss at my mentor. "How come my neck still hurts even with medicine?"

"That medicine stops the bleeding, not the bruises or scars," he says. "I've sent Effie to get some pain killers, so until she comes back, it's best that you just lie down for now."

Without debating, I simply agree and sigh through the pain.

Summer invades my personal bubble by scooting herself closer to my face. It doesn't make me uncomfortable though. "Mind telling us what happened down there?" she asks with wide eyes, putting her bony hands on my forearm.

I gulp down the bile building at the back of my mouth. It hurts to swallow. No pun intended. "The boy from 2 happened," I say with a shameful tone in my voice.

Her fingers grip around my forearm in an act of surprise. "He did this to you?" she asks although she doesn't need an answer. "I thought you were just verbally defending that boy from 9. I didn't know… Oh that son of a…" Summer trails off as she angrily exhales through her nose and tightens her grip on my forearm.

"Give us details, Peeta. What exactly happened down there?" Haymitch asks and walks closer to me.

It took roughly ten minutes for me to vividly explain to them the events that took place before I fell out of consciousness. I mean, I was still there. Sort of.

Shortly, Effie rushes through the door with a white bottle gripped firmly in her gloved hand. "Peeta, dear, I've brought you some pain medication. Don't worry, you'll be in tip top shape in no time, darling!" she says with prep as she struts towards me and hands over two blue pills from the bottle.

"Thanks," I give Effie a weak smile as an avox gives me a glass of water. I forcefully swallow the extra large pills, and boy, did that hurt.

Concluding my explanation to Haymitch and Summer, I open my mouth. "Oh yeah, he said that that fight is the final test on whether I was worth being a career."

"So, no more chance on being a career now, huh?" Haymitch asks.

"No," I reply. "Looks like I screwed up, big time."

Despite my injury, all Haymitch thought about was strategy. I can tell just by looking at the expression of his face that he is currently in deep thoughts.

"Haymitch, you're zoning out… What's up?"

Our mentor looks at me startled. "Oh, uh…" he sighs. "Honestly, I don't know how else you guys can win the Games."

Gee thanks for keeping our hopes up, I mentally tell him. Summer's probably saying the same thing in her head.

"Well, if you guys can make an alliance like I did during my Hunger Games, then you might still have a chance of winning," he suggests.

"But, Haymitch, other than the careers, alliances hasn't worked since your Hunger Games," Effie interrupts. "Plus, a different alliance outside of the careers is difficult to make."

"Effie, this time around, they have the time to make an alliance. What, thirty-nine days is it?" he asks us tributes.

We nod in unison.

"I have a hunch," the old man starts, "that the only reason the Game Makers are delaying the Hunger Games, is to force you kids to interact and make close friends that you will later have to kill."

Summer and I look at each other with saddened expressions. That small fact adds more pain to me than Haymitch puts out. Just the thought of killing my best friend… No. I can't think like that. I'm here to protect her. And that's exactly what I'm going to do.

No matter what happens.

"Yeah, that's it!" he states excitedly. His face is lightening up at his theory. "After seventy-three years of the Hunger Games, the Capitol citizens must be getting bored of the same thing over and over. Maybe this will make it more entertaining for them to watch with all the violence and drama."

"Now that I think about it, I think you're right!" Effie agrees.

Not long after, we hear a knock at the door.

"Avox, could you get that?" our mentor asks and continues on about how probable his theory is.

The avox answers the door and returns with a neatly folded piece of paper pinched between her fingers. She hands it to Effie to read.

She unfolds the paper the same way she unfolded the slip that had Summer's name on it during the Reaping.

"What's that?" I ask.

"It's a letter from the Game Makers," she answers with her Capitol accent. "We don't usually get letters from them, so this is… odd."

Once, she read the note, her face looks like it has been stunned, and Summer quickly snatches the note from her gloved hand.

By the looks of it, she skims it over then reads the note aloud. She stumbles upon a few words because of District 12's horrible education system, but regardless, she continues.

To Mentors and Escorts,
Please send your tributes to the new Food Court that we have recently built in honor of the Hunger Games. It is located just one floor below the training center, and we even installed an extra button in the elevator for your convenience. There, the tributes will enjoy a freshly cooked meal with all the other tributes in an act of fellowship. Therefore, from now on until the Hunger Games, it is mandatory for all tributes to meet at the Food Court during lunch hour at 1 PM.
-Sincerely, Seneca Crane, The Lead Game Maker

"Haymitch," Summer starts, "I think you're right." She hands him the note to read as well.

His eyes zigzag through the letter, and he shakes his head in disappointment. "I knew it," he says as he crumples the letter into a ball and makes a messy shot for the trash bin.

"So this 'Food Court' is just a way to force you children to interact…" Effie states in deep thought.

"…And make friends…" Summer continues.

"…That we'll later have to kill," I finish. My gut is telling me that Haymitch's theory is true, and that letter is the first evidence to support it.

Before long, Haymitch starts talking to us about more strategy as I lay on the couch with Summer right by my side. The old man advises us to socialize and make our conversations as personal as possible. "Make them feel like they're your friend or like someone you can align with," he says. "But I'm warning you, don't develop feelings for anyone. It's only going to make it harder for you to kill them."

x x

The clock strikes one, and lunch hour begins.

My bruises are still in that bluish-purple stage, but the pain killers are working enough for me to make my way down to the Food Court without any major neck complications.

With our training uniform still on, Summer and I enter the elevator and we notice a new button labeled with a simple loaf-of-bread shaped picture. I forcefully press it with my thumb as the loaf of bread glows green.

I feel the weightless side-effect of the elevator for a few seconds as it goes down. Then, it comes to a slow stop. The doors slide open in opposite directions revealing the Food Court. We are greeted by the vibrancy of orange and lime green walls and the aroma of hot food waiting to be in our stomach. The Food Court has a friendly feel to it. That is, until I see four Peace Keepers at every corner with a gun readied and, most likely, loaded right by their sides.

A few other tributes are already in line to grab their meals while a couple others are already sitting at a table eating their lunch. I stand in the short line behind Summer as I let my eyes wander, scouting for the brute that damaged my throat.

My best friend turns around to see me being a nervous wreck. "Cheesecake, calm down," she orders, treating the situation so neutrally. "Just think of it like it's school, except that they actually serve food here."

"Okay," I say taking deep breaths in an attempt to calm myself. Luckily, Cato is nowhere in sight.

I have conflicting feelings for this boy. It's like I feel this attraction to him, but at the same time it is fear as well. Sexiness, confusion, and disgust are just some minor side-feels.

Once we reach the end of the line, we are offered a wide variety of food which their names are unknown to me. I choose a meal that consisted of brown meat, cheese, lettuce, and tomato sandwiched between steamy buns. To the side are some fried, rectangular, chopped up potatoes. And my drink is an orange tangy beverage; again, the label of this foreign meal is unknown to me.

"Excuse me," I say to try to get the attention of the lady behind the counter, "what is this?" I point to my meal.

"That is called a cheeseburger, fries, and some orange juice," she replies slowly and loudly as if I don't speak English.

Orange juice? It's probably named after the color. Simply, I nod and catch up to Summer.

We take our tray full of food to a table occupied by both the tributes from 11. Summer taps the glass, picnic-styled table with her bony finger and asks, "Is it okay if we sit here?"

The little girl gives us puppy dog eyes and timidly nods while the more beefy tribute boy across form her gives us a deep and firm "Sure".

My district partner sits next to the little girl as I sit next to the muscular boy.

"So what are you guys' names?" Summer asks before taking a bite of her meal.

"I'm Thresh," says the large boy taking another bite of his so called cheeseburger.

"I'm Rue," the little girl shyly responds sipping on her drink.

So that's her name. The girl who's the main source of why Cato got upset, and why I wanted to defend that boy from 9 only to get beaten to a pulp. I can't stay upset with her though. She just seems so pure and angelic, regardless of her dark skin.

"Hi! I'm Summer and this is Chees-."

"Peeta! My name's Peeta," I abruptly interrupt her to save myself from embarrassment.

"Sorry about your neck, Peeta," the little girl says with her honest eyes.

She's so young; so innocent. "It's okay. It wasn't you're fault."

"I watched the whole thing from up there, so I saw everything he did to you," she adds. "I'm really sorry."

Rue reminds me of Summer's little sister, June. She's only a year younger than Rue, and they are both different races, but the resemblance is there.

"No, don't blame yourself," I tell her. "I chose to do what I did. Don't worry about it."

Rue nods shyly and returns to her food. I do the same as I take my first bite of this foreign meal. What's it called again? A Cheeseburger? My teeth tears through the meat, the cheese, and the vegetables all sandwiched into one as my eyes dilate at the delicacy caressing my taste buds.

"It's good, huh?" Thresh states in an effort to start a conversation.

"Mhhmmm," I moan continuously as I chew on the salty deliciousness. Then, I realize the sex noises I've been making and blush in embarrassment.

Everyone gives a large grin while they laugh through their noses. Rue is the exception. She's probably still too young to know what sex is.

"Sorry," I apologize with my mouth full. Just like Haymitch advised, I try to make them feel like my friend, so I start telling them about my life. "Back in my district, we didn't have food like this."

"Is that why you volunteered?" Thresh asks with a surprised tone of voice and a raised eyebrow.

"Yeah, that's why I volunteered. Because of the food." I respond sarcastically.

I manage to get a small giggle out of Rue which lightens my mood a bit.

"I'm kidding," I reassure Thresh. "I volunteered because… well, Summer's my best friend, and I want to protect her. Ya know?"

"I understand. Rue's my cousin, but neither of us volunteered. We don't have food like this back in our district either," he says. "That's why we're enjoying ourselves as much as we can before the Hunger Games."

Soon, we all got into a conversation about how our districts work, what we usually do back home, and our family. I learn that Thresh is eighteen years old and an only child, but he works hard every day to support his parents and his many cousins such as Rue. Rue, on the other hand, is the oldest of five children even though she's only twelve. I tell them about the bakery, and how my friendship with Summer began there. Then, Summer tells them about the one and only soccer ball that all the neighborhood kids played with every now and then.

Shortly, the careers take the table in front of ours. There's Cato, his district partner, and the tributes from 1 and 4.

Summer's right. This is just like school. All the rich, popular kids sitting in one table and the poor kids sit in another.

Cato purposely chooses a seat that is specifically facing towards my direction. It's kinda suspicious if you ask me. Especially since I catch him multiple times stealing glances followed up with his evil smile.

After a while, regardless of the obnoxious noise from the career table, Thresh, Rue, Summer, and I develop a sense of friendship during that lunch hour.

But making more friends is the last thing that we need to be doing right now. This is exactly what the Game Makers want us to do. Like Haymitch said, it would only be harder to kill them. Especially a young, innocent tribute like Rue.

I try my best to push away this feeling of friendship, but it causes me more pain. I learned from being in the closet that pushing away my feelings is not worth it in the long run, so why should I push away this new connection with Rue and Thresh? Plus, I can tell Summer and I are having a good time with them, so why should I let the Games change how I feel? Why should I change the person that I am for the entertainment of people who doesn't even care for me?

Finally, I organize my thoughts. I decide that these two people are new friends, and there's no denying that. I'm tired of my past demons affecting me, so it's time to stop. Besides, they might even be my allies for the Games, but it's too early to jump into conclusions for now.

We finish our lunch and drop of our trays along with the dirty ones. Cato is still stealing glances at me, but I don't care. We head back to the elevator and go up a floor to the training center to follow up with our daily training routine.

"It was nice meeting you guys," Summer says during the elevator ride.

"You both are really nice," Thresh responds.

"Can we sit together again tomorrow?" Rue requests while the elevator doors separate.

I give her an ear to ear smile and nod, "Sure thing, Rue."

I have made friends. And possibly allies. And for a second, I forget that I have to kill them later on.

x x

"Yeah, take it bitch!" the girl from 2 screams as she swings her arms to punch the girl from 5 to the ground. "You're too quiet. I wanna hear you scream!"

But she doesn't make a sound. The fox-faced girl with red hair continues to be silent at the combat station regardless of the beating she takes.

"C'mon!" the girl from two whines. She elbows her chest this time, but the red haired girl isn't fighting back. "Just a small whimper would be fine!"

Her violence continues to go on for about two more minutes. She stands up and starts proudly kicking the other girl on the ground until she gets bored. The fox-faced girl bleeds through her nose and the referee loudly announces first blood.

"Maybe next time," she says getting up from the bruised girl, "I can get a scream out of you."

The brunette from 2, exits the combat station with the same evil grin that Cato has. I wonder if they're just born with that smile, or if they are trained in District 2 to intimidate people with it.

Either way, the fox-faced girl from District 5 remains laying at the combat station bruised and weak and unmoving. When we make eye contact, my heart breaks for her because I've been at her position.

Worried, I go up to her and kneel to get a closer look at the damage she received.

"Hey, are you alright?" I ask genuinely.

With wide and suffering eyes, she nods.

"You don't have to lie to me, you know," I tell her. "I know you're in pain. Here, I'll be right back."

And with that, I run up to the referee and start informing him that the District 5 girl needs help. Although he says that he's just a referee and knows nothing about healing people, he ultimately calls down some Care Takers; two of them to be exact, one man and one woman. Both seem to know what they're doing as they surround the injured girl, and in no time, she is fast asleep.

I watch from a distance as both of them place her on a stretcher and carry her up to her floor to rest. Upset, I walk towards an area with an abundance of throwing knives. An instructor is demonstrating a proper way to hold and throw the blade as it comes in contact with the bull's eye on a practice dummy. "Now, it's your turn," he says to the three of us at the station.

The girl from District 2 is up first. With each throw we hear an intimidating whoosh from her daggers. I'm not surprised when she flawlessly strikes all the bull's eyes with ease. However, she purposely misses a target and aims for one of the dummy's crotch. After she finished, she brushes her hands with pride, and flashes her evil smile towards me and another tribute boy from 7. "See that? Mess with me, and I'll cut off you're dick."

The boy from 7 retreats to a different station to distance himself from the District 2 girl. "Pussy!" she exclaims so the entire Training Center can hear.

I, however, am pissed off that she would beat the pale and skinny fox-faced girl for fun. Geez, this tiny brunette is so full of herself it makes me want to punch her in the face. Instead, I step up to the plate with five knives in front of me. The lights around knives glow green on the platform I was standing on signaling for me to start throwing.

I grab a knife the way the instructor demonstrated, and I throw it to one of the dummy's heads. To my surprise it sticks. It's not at the perfect center but, it lands on the dummy's face. Hey, maybe throwing sacks of flour my whole life helps with accuracy.

Anyway, my second knife lands on the target and so does my third. My fourth knife, however, misses the target completely, but lands on the dummy's throat.

For my last knife, I focus. I do a small on-the-spot ritual that gave universal energy to this knife. I slide the edge along the tip of my finger but not enough for it to penetrate my skin. And with that, I ready myself. I center all of my anger and rage to my throw, as the knife rotates in the air. Finally it lands, but the knife misses the target by a mile.

However, I hit the dummy where I was aiming for: its crotch. I smile at my success, and I turn to the girl from 2. "See that?" I tell her. "Mess with me, and I'll cut off you're dick." The instructor chokes on his spit as I walk away with this adrenaline rush that comes with winning. My smile only grows larger which annoys the girl even more.

At a loss for words, she makes a fist at her side and pounds the table that held the knives. "Ugh!" she grunts, and immaturely stomps to her group of careers.

I see Cato pausing from his sword training to stare at me. I stare back until he stabs his sword on a dummy, and starts to walk to my direction. It's only the second day of training, but I feel like the war has already begun. The two sides are the careers and everyone else.

Cato inches closer to me, but Summer turns me around by grabbing my arm hopefully discouraging from coming closer.

"Cheesecake, I didn't know you threw knives," she states.

"I worked in a kitchen my whole life…" I say, hinting that she should just fill in the blanks.

She makes an O shape with her mouth.

"I'm kidding. I honestly don't know how I threw them. I was just really pissed that she would beat up other people for fun. Ya know?"

"Peeta, you're in the Capitol. They watch kids die for fun."

"I know it's just…" Then, I pull her closer to whisper to her ear, "This has to stop." This training, these careers, this 'Hunger Games.' It has to stop.

"Peeta, listen to me. I'm pretty sure others in the past have tried to stop these games," she whispers back. "How are we supposed to do that, huh? We can't go against the capitol by ourselves."

"What if we're not by ourselves?"

"Meaning?"

"Thirty-nine days, Summer. Thirty-nine days to get people on our side."

That is when I felt a finger tap me on the shoulder. Scared for my life, I turn around to see Cato invading my personal bubble. He scares me.

But all he says is, "You, R floor. Midnight tonight."

Author's Notes: Mwhahahhhaha you actually though there'd be a sex scene? Not yet, my child, not yet. Sorry guys. I've honestly stopped shipping these two guys because I found a sexier pair and a pair that actually has potential. *cough* Sterek *cough*

Greenburg! WTF? YOU SUCK!

So yeah I'm obsessing over Stiles and Derek and they're just so sexy and purf and blah. If you don't know this fandom, well, you've been in a dark place, and I'm about to rescue you.

They are from a show called TEEN WOLF and they are purf, and they're sexual tension has enough energy to smash through the twin towers. (too soon?) That was a bad joke i'm sorry. For realz doe, they have amazing chemistry on the show, but I may warn you. This pairing isn't canon just like the PEETO pairing that we all love. Anyway, go fuck yourself :D. jk I love you gurl! I'm gonna bend you over and Fuck you so hard. Then, I'm gonna marry the shit out of you, and then raise the fuck out of our children. ;)

Its 3am. Bye. Don't judge me. JK please judge me and review this. Cantaloupe because I'm hungry.