"Ladies and Gentlemen," Caesar Flickerman cries, "Here are your 74th Annual Hunger Games victors!"

And within an instant the crowd goes wild. Children bound in the air, trying to get a better look at us, adults scream and cheer, and even Caesar Flickerman, himself, is clapping and laughing. Once the noise has died down, Effie and Haymitch leave us and join in with the crowd.

"C'mon," Caesar waves us over. This year his hair has been dyed neon orange, making him look almost like the fruit itself. "We don't bite!" And he swings his hand in his direction, motioning for us to come over.

The ironic thing is, He won't bite, but I'm not so sure about some of the tributes behind him. Peeta and I avoid their faces as we slip right past them and join Caesar at the front of the stage.

Caesar sniffles a bit of a fake cry of sympathy. "It's great to have you two back in the Capitol." He says with a small puppy face. "Are you glad you're back, Katniss?"

I hesitate when he pushes the microphone to me. "I…"

And then I find a familiar face smiling at me in the crowd. His young features stick out to me like they did the first time we had met. He's possibly the most normal looking one out there, gold eyeliner being his only form of Capitol fashion. Cinna. And my heart almost flips, he's really here.

I see his lips moving, but I'm a little too astounded to figure out what he wants me to say.

"I… have never been happier, Caesar." I lie in the microphone, still staring at Cinna who now gives me thumbs up.

The audience hoots for us, but behind me I can clearly hear a loud groan. I can only ignore it.

Caesar laughs. "And what about you, Peeta?"

I notice Peeta doesn't have a problem speaking. He's always had that certain charm. "I couldn't wait to get here." Another lie.

"Super," Caesar says with a grin. "Are you aware of your friends being here?" He asks, waving over the line of tributes that glare at us, obviously knowing not one of our friends from 12 is out there in the audience. And preferring the tributes as our friends is not a very accurate way of telling them not to kill us.

"Yes," Peeta says quickly, pretending to not have doubts against our victory. "We know."

In the crowd Cinna makes an ark in the air. Smile. As much as I find it hard to do so, I manage it.

"How has it been like?" Caesar asks, noticing that we weren't in the mood to talk about our fellow tributes. "After the rebellion and all, anything special going?"

Peeta smiles, "Only that we're seeing our competitors again." Well, that is special. And it also earns him a snort from one of the tributes, but I don't care enough to find out whom.

Caesar and Peeta exchange with one another about how different it's been since our last trip down here until I finally drift off into my thoughts. I can still see Cinna among the audience, but there's something different about him, almost as if he's not quiet here. I can't make out what's different, but I know something is wrong. About this whole thing.

"Katniss," Caesar says in a clear voice. He must have asked a question by his tone…

"Hmm?" I ask, snapping back in order to show that he has my attention.

"I asked about your opinion," He says sweetly. "On the set. Do you not think it's wonderful?" He stops and turns his head in Cinna's direction, squinting his eyes and scanning the rows like a tiger would for its prey. "Is there a young man out there? Someone caught your eye?" Even Peeta plays along, looking in the crowd, but I know he's spotted Cinna by now.

Caesar beams, "I bet someone in your family is out there." Yeah, like there's anyone else left. "Is it Ms. Everdeen? Ms. Hawthorne? Gale?"

My face burns at the mention of Gale. His dark hair and olive skin run through my mind. His cold gray eyes and strong body. The way his snares were always perfect. What if he's watching right now?

Stop, I tell myself. Don't think about him.

On the grand screen I see it's clear that my face is red and I wait for a tribute or two to snicker, but it never comes. "No," I say, "I'm just curious to see who's out there tonight."

Caesar smiles pleasantly. "Are you looking forward to going back into the arena?" Why would he even ask that? "It's not every day you become victors, live past the Arena for a second time, and still get another chance."

My choices are: Sit here and lie in front of those who will most likely kill me, or tell the truth and pay the consequences later. I glance back at Cinna, but all he does is smile. "…No."

Caesar exaggerates his gasp, but the audience is dead silent. "Why not? You have a good chance," He turns around, facing the other tributes, and Peeta does the same, but no matter what I still refuse to look back. "You all do!" He adds, and turns my body around himself. "Isn't that right, Katniss?"

My eyes connect almost immediately with Rue's. She doesn't show much emotion, but she smiles. But it's not a soft, kind smile that I've seen since Prim. It's forlorn. Lost. On her right is Thresh, who just stares at me blankly, and on her left is the boy from 10, the one with the bad leg. Way on the other side sits Cato and Clove, and next to them are the tributes from 3 who are sinking down in their chairs, most likely feeling extremely insecure. I couldn't blame them; it would be uncomfortable if I had to sit next to the children who individually hate me.

"Yes," I say, grabbing Peeta's hand, "We all have a pretty good chance." And I think long and hard before adding. "Again."

"Well," Caesar says, appointed to the audience. "I think we're finished for tonight! We'll see you all in a few days when we interview all of our tributes for the second time." He turns back to us, ignoring the applause and cheers from the crowd. "Feel free to talk to your friends for a bit." He whispers to Peeta and me. Then he winks, and joins in with the crowd.

The word friends pound in my mind. How could you consider someone your friend if they'll be just as quick as turn on you as a murderer would? That they won't feel the slightest sympathy when you fall to the ground, dead? But no, some tributes aren't that way, like Rue and Peeta for certain. But maybe the Careers will, but I can't say for sure since they might actually care for at least someone.

I don't bother to move from my current spot, and neither does Peeta. We just wait until everyone in the audience exits through the side doors and stand quietly afterward. Most of the tributes just ignore us, and leave without a word. But Cato stops by Peeta, whispers to him and stomps off... I can see the girl from District 6, on the edge of going down into tears, and her district ally is trying to comfort her with no achievement. The girl from 8 is glancing at Peeta numerous of times, but I don't see what use that would do for her since we're in the Capitol. Peeta couldn't, and certainly wouldn't, hurt her. The District 10 boy shuffles around in his seat, trying not to make eye contact with me, personally.

But finally, Rue stands.

She hasn't stopped smiling. It's a sympathetic smile, like you would have if someone was hurt or if you were sorry for something in the future. Of course, I'm sure, we all are sorry for being placed back into the arena, but it being Rue; I can't help but wonder if it means something else. Her big brown eyes familiarize me, and her dark hair and skin shine under the bright lighting.

"Katniss," She says.

But I'm too dazed to say anything. What do you say to someone that you have believed to be dead for two years? Hey, I'm happy you're not dead, but it's too bad it's not much of a reunion since we're both about to die in the arena anyway. Or: It's nice to know you're not in the grave. I can't tell that to anyone, especially not Rue. Seeing her in pain from the spear was bad enough, but some way, somehow, I'll have to watch her die again. Along with the rest of the tributes. And maybe even along with Peeta.

"Rue," I cope.

Short Chapter. R & R, or whatever you do best...

~Sallen