7/23/2020: In editing these chapters, I'm basically combining some of the chapters together. I'll be adding a lot more information, of course, and changing around some of the characters.

Enjoy. :)

~Meghan

Chapter XV

A Mentor

- District 7 -

I look at my clothing in the mirror.

It's simple brown material, but sleek enough that Gallus won't disapprove when I arrive in the Capitol. He sent me a selection of choices once I told him I was going to be mentoring, and this jumpsuit was the only outfit that didn't have rhinestones. He also called me to say that he'd received orders for me to wear the gold ax necklace from President Snow. I keep it shoved under my bed, but begrudgingly pulled it out for today.

With a sigh, I turn to head out of my room. My eyes snag on the small teddy bear sitting on my dresser, the one that the little girl gave me when I first got home almost a year ago. The teddy bear's black button eyes stare back at me from across the room.

"Wish me luck, Seven," I say.

Downstairs, Mama is pulling at Pine's messy, brown curls with a wooden comb, but it's no use, and he swats at her hands. Mama's eyes catch mine as I reach the bottom of the staircase. "You look lovely, sweetheart," she tells me. "That one was my favorite from the set they sent. Not quite so flashy as the others. It brings out your eyes."

"Do you like my shirt?" Pine asks me. He adjusts his green collar. "I added the new buttons last night."

I make myself smile for him. "You look very handsome."

A whistle blows outside, making the back of my neck break out in goosebumps. Time to go. I move towards the door, but Pine dashes away from Mama and back up to his room. My brother comes back down the steps, his hazel eyes bright as he lifts up the leather bracelet I gave him a month ago for his birthday.

"Almost forgot it," he tells me, catching his breath. He slips the bracelet onto his wrist and gives me a solemn look. "I figured I should bring something this year. Just in case I need a token."

I'm silent for a beat. A lump lodges itself in my throat, making responding difficult, but I swallow it down and brush a flyaway curl behind Pine's ear. "You won't need it."

We walk together to the Justice Building. The sun is out, but a cool breeze provides from some relief from the heat. Mama puts her arm around me as we walk. I try to concentrate on my footsteps and not on the reaping. It was only last year that I walked out of our old home, hand-in-hand with Pine to the Justice Building. I had been so much more carefree then. I hadn't ever expected my name to get pulled, but then again, who does? I had left home that day thinking I would go back to have lunch with Mama and Pine, another Hunger Games passing us.

Now I'm headed back to the Capitol.

Even though I'm going to be put into the arena this time myself, I might as well be. Whatever tribute is chosen today, their life is going to be in my hands.

We arrive with the crowd at the Justice Building and join in with the flow. Kids line up at the tables to sign in while parents stand in the roped-off area to the back. Peacekeepers watch over us all, walking around the space with black guns at the ready. I look over the crowd on my tip-toes, looking at the stage where some of my fellow victors are already sitting.

"You better go," Mama tells me. She gives me a quick smile. "Go on."

I turn to Pine and give him a tight hug. "You're going to be fine," I tell him, looking him in his eyes, trying to convince myself as much as my baby brother.

Pine smiles nervously to me and nods. Then he steps into the line to get his finger pricked and the blood scanned.

I head around the crowd, not wanting to walk up through the middle like last year. The Peacekeepers don't stop me as I hurry up the old oak stairs and onto the stone of the Justice Building. Two glass orbs sit on their podiums, a sea of names in them. Mine isn't there anymore, but Pine's still is. Two slips penned Pine Redwood among thousands of other boys. I try to shake the thought from my head as I take the free seat between Striker and Blight.

"How are you feeling?" I ask Striker.

He smiles playfully at me, patting his heart with a fist. "I'm fine, Fern, I keep telling you. Don't worry about me. I'm tough as nails."

None of the others ask me how I am, but they don't need to. We all know the answer. Blight gives me a sympathetic smile and Stiker squeezes my shoulder once. Down the row, Axel's jaw is tensed as he gazes out at the growing rows of district kids. The memory of all his cousins floods my mind. I can hear Jill's laughter and see Amate's smile. Amate must be in the crowd somewhere.

My eyes snag on Pine's. He's barely visible in the second-to-last row. He stands there, next to a few of his friends from class with the other thirteen-year-olds. Maple stands on the opposite side of the path, holding hands with another girl, her blonde hair up in a ponytail with its usual ribbons. I think about nodding at her, but hold back. I know the cameras will be watching me at some point. Instead I try to find Vidar and Joan in the roped-off section at the back with the adults. If there's one thing I can be grateful for this year, it's that I don't have to worry about my friends. They're finally free of the reaping.

Before I can find them, Mayor Fourdriner gets up. He reads off the usual spiel at every Reaping Day, all about the Dark Days, and follows it up with the traditional reading of the victor's names. It's surreal as he finishes, "Fern Redwood, victor of the Seventy-third Hunger Games."

Someone out of the corner of my eye hands a paper stub to someone else in the crowd. Betting. There's always some who bet at the reaping, about which age each tribute will be, whether they'll break down into sobs on stage, about this and that. How many of them were betting on someone like me? How many of them made money off of betting on what they thought was a death sentence?

"Welcome to the start of a new year's new Hunger Games!" Ilis says in the microphone.

I blink, surprised to see him up there, decked out in a opalescent suit complete with a crystal collar. I hadn't even registered him getting up from his chair. But there our escort is, walking towards the glass ball holding thousands upon thousands of girls' names. There are just over 25,000 people in District 7. I can't help wondering how many of them are holding their breath in fear right now.

Ilis' gloved hand reaches into the bowl. He gives it a swirl, twisting the knife.

I tighten my fists around the arms of my chair as he walks to the microphone, holding up the unlucky slip of paper.

This is going to be my tribute, I think. Her life is about to be in my hands.

I'm barely breathing as Ilis opens the slip, his back to me, and leans towards the microphone. I can hear the smile in his voice when he reads "Lauren Cambium."

A blonde, tanned girl emerges slowly from the section of sixteen-year-olds. She's very small, even shorter than Pine, probably not over five feet tall. But she's built solidly. There's wiry muscle coming from her pink dress sleeves, the kind of strength that comes from working at the lumber yards. Her eyes sweep the audience, as if expecting someone to say she heard the wrong name. Then she walks towards us.

As Lauren climbs the steps of the stage, I wonder what the victors sitting around me thought as I first walked up. What were they thinking when Pine yelled from the audience, horror on his face?

Striker's hand reaches over and squeezes mine.

"Any volunteers?" Ilis asks, laying a an arm around Lauren's shoulders.

No one does, of course. Ilis quickly moves over to the bowl full of boys names and finds a slip.

I almost don't think my heart is beating as he carries the slip of paper to the microphone, taking forever to open it. Please not Pine.

He reads the name "Bole Heartwood" and I sink into my chair, relief washing over me. The fear that had been keeping me from breathing disappears. Pine is safe for another year.

Everyone searches the crowd for the unlucky boy. He's the complete opposite of Lauren with his olive skin and short, dark hair, and a bit more height. Bole doesn't hesitate like Lauren did as he walks towards the stage, not even when a woman cries at the edge of the crowd. A lock of Bole's dark hair comes loose from how he had it slicked back. But he doesn't look back.

On stage, Lauren gazes sadly at him. Upon Ilis' direction, they shake hands.

"Let's have a hand for our District Seven tributes in the Seventy-fourth Hunger Games," Ilis announces.

A low murmur of half-hearted claps ring out though the crowd like always, frowns painted on everyone's faces. The only joy in today is for those who didn't have a loved one chosen in the reaping. For this year, they're safe. Parcel Day is over, and now we have two new tributes to potentially mourn in the arena.

Peacekeepers lead Lauren and Bole into the Justice Building, and the crowd starts to disperse. Parents embrace their children and friends find each other in the movement.

Then they come for me and Axel. The other victors give us reassuring pats on the shoulder, and Johanna shoves me lightly. She opens her mouth as if to say something, but finally just squeezes my arm lightly and follows Rasp down the stairs. I barely have time to find Pine in the crowd, hugging Mama, before I have to follow the Peacekeepers from the square.

We're taken in a private car to the train, and told that, in twenty minutes, we'll depart. We'll be in the Capitol by morning.

Axel sighs, raking a hand through his dark hair. The joking, quiet smile he wears when all the victors are together is gone, but I can still see the visible relief he has from none of his cousins being chosen. This year, at least.

"Was Striker your mentor?" I ask curiously, breaking the silence.

Axel glances over at me as if remembering I'm here. "No," he finally says. "Blight. I'm the only tribute he's ever brought back."

I look down at the glossy mahogany table. It seems like so long ago that I sat there, Timber in the seat next to me, Johanna and Rasp across from us. I didn't know at the time if I was going to ever be on the train again, coming home to Mama and Pine. Most of me was convinced I was going into the arena to die. But I knew I had to get back. Then again, maybe my older sister was thinking the same thing when she left District 7 and never came home.

The thought makes me dizzy, so I sit down in one of the cushioned sitting chairs around the television.

"You'll be fine," Axel says gently.

I don't bother looking at him. Instead, I watch dust motes floating through a shaft of afternoon sunlight shining in through the windows. "It's not me I worried about."

When Ilis leads Lauren and Bole onto the train, he's chattering on and on about all the amenities of the train. How fast it is, how they can have whatever food they want, how comfortable the beds are. Then he's already babbling on about the "grandeur" of the Capitol with its skyscrapers and, by the way, have either of them ever seen pictures of skyscrapers? They stare at him as he waves it away, dismissing his own question. He starts babbling about how we'll all watch the Reaping together soon but, until then, they can eat and get to know their mentors.

I try to smile for Lauren as she looks at me for the first time.

Up close, I can see her more clearly than on stage at the reaping. Her face is covered in freckles, and her eyes as a warm brown, the exact shade of maple tree bark. They're rimmed in red, not doubt from goodbyes just said at the Justice Building.

My smile falters. It seems wrong to smile now, looking at her red-rimmed eyes. "I'm sorry," I end up saying. "I wish we were meeting under different circumstances."

Lauren peers at me for a moment, her bark-brown eyes narrowing in curiosity. She cocks her head. "You talk like you're Capitol."

I bite my tongue. She's not wrong, I realize, thinking over how I worded myself. It was so formal. Stiff. It sounded like something that Gallus would say, skirting around the actual situation and giving a flowery, cordial sentence instead. It's not how we speak to each other in District 7.

"I'm sorry your name got chosen," I say. "I'm sorry you're going into the arena."

Lauren flinches, but when she looks up at me again, there's a new respect in her eyes. There's some level of trust that Lauren didn't look at Ilis with, just the kind reserved for someone from home who knows what it's like to go through this.

I finally get up and turn on the TV to watch the reaping recap while the others slowly join me. The whole time Caesar Flickerman is speaking, Ilis is flicking through news websites on his tablet.

"Onto District One!" I finally hear Caesar say and my head snaps to the screen.

Both volunteers, as usual. Blondes like most of District 1. This year, District 2 has a young girl with cunning eyes volunteer. In District 5, a girl with hair the same color as mine is chosen, but she has more clever air about her.

I'm watching the way her brown eyes dart to the crowd from the stage when their district escort calls the boy's name.

"Vis Lumen!"

I frown. Why is that name familiar?

A boy emerges from the crowd, his face shocked as he looks up at the stage.

My stomach drops. Vis. Suddenly I'm back in 5 all those months ago, standing on a balcony as the mayor's son points to a windmill farm. I can see him across from me in the hallway as his little brother searches for a pin. I can still see how he looked at me shyly as he talked about swimming in their hydroelectric dams. How he looked uncomfortable in his suit and took off his tie at dinner like he couldn't be bothered to keep wearing it.

Vis walks up to the stage, his knees wobbling just barely enough for the camera to see. He avoids the gaze of Mayor Lumen, who is still sitting in his chair with the District 5 victors, frozen to his seat in alarm. A murmur runs through the crowd. It isn't every year that a mayor's child is in the running. The shifty-looking redheaded girl gives Vis a curious glance. Somewhere in the crowd must be Manus, watching his older brother stand on the stage.

Then the feed cuts to District 6. I'm numb as the reaping goes on, but I notice Axel watching me out of the corner of my eye. I look down at my shoes. No one can know that I'm familiar with another tribute aside from my own. Lauren is my priority.

District 7 passes by, and Lauren tightens her clasped hands together, watching with a stony expression. 8, 9, 10 are shown. In District 11, a massive boy is chosen, practically as big as the Careers. It looks strange seeing him stand on the stage next to a tiny twelve-year-old who barely looks ten. Another twelve-year-old girl is chosen in 12, which makes Ilis sigh.

"Poor little things," he says. He goes back to his tablet.

Bole shoots our escort a glare he doesn't notice.

"Prim!"

We all turn back to the screen as a black-haired girl in a blue dress stumbles her way out of the crowd. And then she's screaming that she volunteers, rushing to the stage to the place of the young blonde girl whose name was chosen. The district escort with the crooked wig asks if that was her sister she volunteered for. It was, the black-haired girl answers, and says her name is Katniss Everdeen.

Lauren finally looks away from the screen to turn to me. "A volunteer from an outlying district?"

She doesn't have to finish her thought. I know what she means. Katniss Everdeen just volunteered to die in the arena.

- The Train -

"I would like to thank the people of District Four. I would also-"

My voice goes silent.

The angry expressions on the faces of those in District 4 melt into skulls before my eyes. The closest ones blink with fire in their dark eye sockets, smiles cut through the bone, ivory teeth grinding together as they reach their skeletal fingers towards me. I scream, the bone closing on my sea-colored dress. I have no chance of escaping these monster as I crash to the stage of the Justice Building. Blood soaks through my dress, staining the blue.

The Peacekeepers are gone. Now the skeletons are crawling up the stage like spiders, contorted shapes all hissing my name as the picture of Tide laughs, his skin sloughing away to reveal a charred skull. I scream and kick but their bone fingers are sharp, cutting my skin, their jaws laughing as they crawl towards me.

I scream as they start to rip away my skin, revealing the bones underneath.

"Fern!"

I gasp, ripping away from the person sitting next to me.

"It's just me, it's just me," the person says gently, holding up their hands to show they don't have a weapon. It takes me another second to recognize Axel, his gray eyes peering at me in the dim light, still wearing his pajamas. "You're on the train, Fern. You're not in District Four."

I breathe heavily, my chest heaving. Whipping my head around, I almost don't trust him, but my eyes take in the dark room slowly filling with rays of gray morning light. Then I turn towards the open doorway. Lauren and Bole stand there, Bole in a robe and Lauren in a nightgown, staring at me with alarm etched on their faces. I blink, not entirely sure they're real for a moment. When my brain starts to register the soft blanket crushed in my fingers, I remember yesterday.

The reaping. We're almost in the Capitol. Lauren just saw her mentor have a breakdown.

Embarrassment makes my face burn, and I'm grateful for the dark so that none of them see.

"Come get breakfast when you're ready," Axel says softly. "We'll be at the station in a couple hours." He waits until I nod, and then gets up.

Lauren gives Bole a gentle shove, and they vanish out of the doorway, following by Axel.

I breathe out through my nose, trying to calm my racing heartbeat. My fingers curl around the warm blankets, but I shiver, cold sweat covering my skin. I almost want to sleep until we get to the Capitol, but I'm half terrified I'll feel the sharp skeleton fingers cutting my skin open again. I force myself out of bed, shaking, and get in the shower without looking in the mirror. After I've scrubbed away the nightmare from my memory as best I can, I put on a green silk sundress.

When I find them in the dining car, breakfast is just finishing up.

Lauren has her plate piled high with food, eating with such voracity that Ilis shoots her looks over the top of his coffee mug now and then. If Lauren notices, she doesn't seem to care. She's her own her person, I realize. I cared so much what people thought of me when I was on my way to the Capitol. It's refreshing that Lauren doesn't seem to care.

Everyone looks up as I sit down.

"Good morning, Fern," Ilis chirps. "Late start today, young lady."

I bite back a sigh for Lauren and Bole's sake. "Bad dreams. Won't happen again, Ilis."

Our escort sets his mug down, reaching up to fix his curls, now dyed blue instead of their usual bubblegum. "We should be at the Capitol in ten minutes. Long day ahead."

"It's the parade," Lauren says softly. She turns to me for confirmation. "Right?"

I nod. "You both will be taken to the Remake Center to get ready."

Bole pauses, running his thumb over the silver fork in his hand nervously. "Remake Center? What... what are they gonna' do?"

"Hair, body, nails - basically anything you can think of," Axel says simply. He finally cracks a smile. "You'll be fine. We'll see you both again after the parade."

"You won't be with us at the Remake Center?" Bole asks. He knits his brows, glancing over at Lauren.

She shrugs at him.

Axel launches into an explanation of all the stylists and prep teams will do, and I add in details about leg waxing, which makes Lauren blanch. I'm not sure if the debrief calms them, but Bole doesn't interrupt as his mentor goes over everything. I almost wish I could thank Axel here and now for not bringing up my nightmares. Lauren and Bole seem so enamored in the details about the prep teams that they don't bother to give me curious looks either.

Our train glides into a tunnel, silencing our conversation. When we emerge from the darkness, light beams into our train car, searing my eyes for a moment. As they adjust, the shining Capitol glimmers across from a blue lake. Skyscrapers of every color rise up into the clouds, some so tall I can't even see the roofs today.

Lauren and Bole crane their necks around, their plates forgotten on the table.

"Go ahead and look," Ilis says happily. "The most beautiful place in all of Panem."

Lauren glances over at Ilis, and then turns to me, but doesn't ask permission before getting up and walking up to the large train windows. Bole isn't far behind, stepping up a bit more hesitantly towards the windows. They marvel as we glide into the glass train station, and the platform outside swarms with cheering Capitol citizens.

"There's so many of them," Bole says to Lauren. "I think they like us."

Lauren glances over at him. "They're cheering for us to go into the arena, remember?"

I stand up as Ilis hurries to sort everything out on the platform. "Don't let them intimidate you," I say to Lauren.

She looks at me and lifts her chin. "Don't worry. I won't."

- Training Center, Floor 7 -

I smooth my dress as I walk into the main area of our floor. "How do I look?"

Axel looks up from straightening his cuff. He scans my dress with the kind of scrutinizing look that someone must get after years spent in the Capitol. His own outfit is sleek, a dark olive suit jacket with black velvet detailing and matching pants. His stylist, Decima, has tried to tame some of his curls but must have given up and left them. Axel finally nods. "Gallus really likes to put you in blue, doesn't he?"

"He says it's my signature color," I laugh. I have to admit, I really like this outfit. It's a beautiful gown with a skirt full of layers, leading up to a what Gallus calls a 'sweetheart neckline.' It's simple. Even better, he didn't make me wear that stupid ax necklace from President Snow. My makeup is minimal, though Gallus made my prep team add dangling diamond earrings. Overall, it's not flashy, not something to draw attention. It's something I almost feel like myself in.

Ilis appears in a floral suit, a plum hat balanced precariously on his head. "Let's get a move on! The stylists are already down at the chariots!"

Axel hits the button on the elevator. "Calm down, Ilis, the Capitol isn't going anywhere." He gives half a smile at our escort.

"Good impressions are a frame of mind, Axel," Ilis sighs.

- City Circle -

"Fern, this is Luster Decaden and Lyme Maclarke."

The two blonde Career mentors peer me up and down.

Lyme from 2 is immediately recognizable, at least just her face. She has a striking expression with dark blue eyes, her blonde hair cut cropped. Lyme is unforgettable even though she won her Games over twenty years ago. It's impossible not to notice her, tall at six feet even, muscular even though it's been decades since she's seen the arena.

The other is just as unforgettable. Luster had been viewed as the more airheaded one of the Career Pack, and then surprised all of Panem by brutally slaying the pair from 4 as tributes dwindled down before she hunted down the rest of her competitors. It's been five years, but I can still see her covered in the other tributes' blood, mace in hand, pumping her fist into the air over the body of the boy from District 6. It won her the 69th Hunger Games and sealed her reputation as a Capitol favorite.

It's a stark difference from the stunning woman flipping her blonde curls over her shoulder and smiling at me.

"It's so good to meet you, dear!" Luster says, leaning over and pulling me into a flowery-perfume scented hug. "I adore your hair! Such a pretty look."

I smile back. "Thank you." Knowing I'm meant to return the compliment, I motion to her outfit. "I like your dress."

"It's something else, huh?" she laughs. Luster sweeps a hand to her legs that seem to go on for miles. The dress is a shimmery gold, tightly wrapped around her, reminding me too much of the dress Snow put me in for my victory party. "Our stylist is a vixen." Luster giggles, winking an emerald eye. She turns towards Axel, giving a gasp. "Axel, darling, look at you!"

He laughs as she reaches over to straighten his already-pristine blazer. "Thanks, Luss."

I raise my eyebrows at him. Luss? But he doesn't seem to notice.

Luster giggles, leaning towards him. "It's been too long, Axel. Why haven't you called me lately?"

They start a conversation, and I awkwardly stand to the side, suddenly feeling like a third wheel. Thankfully, Lyme seems to notice and gives me a gentle smile. It's something I feel like is rare coming from her. So I turn to the tall Career and do my best to smile back.

"She's decent once you get to know her," Lyme tells me.

Luster giggles again at something Axel said, swatting at his chest playfully.

All I can picture is her swinging her spiked mace down on some screaming tribute's head. It was a particularly gruesome Games. That was the year they only put maces into the arena. Luster was lucky that it seemed to be her weapon of choice. And now she's standing next to me, laughing and flirting like the girls back in school.

Lyme tilts her head knowingly as if guessing my thoughts. "Why don't you come meet some of the others?"

I smile and follow her as we move through the Victor's Box. It's a sectioned-off area in the stands of the Capitol crowd, surrounded by low stone walls and filled with plush seats. Half the victors seem to be here already, more arriving every minutes or so. Lyme heads towards a man and woman conversing with another, heads bent, moving their hands fast and animatedly. The man looks up as he notices us approaching. He pushes his glasses up the bridge of his nose, smiling widely. He's familiar with his ashen skin, black hair, and twitchy kind of movements. He looks a bit older than Lyme, though.

"Might I introduce Beetee Latier," Lyme says, "Beetee, meet Fern Redwood."

"Pleased to meet you," Beetee says. The woman to his side pokes him and he jumps as if shocked. "Ah, yes, so sorry, forgotten the customary-" he sticks his hand out, "there we are."

I shake his hand and then the woman turns to me as Lyme starts to introduce her. My eyes light up as I see her face clearly. Her right cheek has two large red scars down it, cutting through her pale skin, going down her neck and disappearing into her dress sleeve.

"It's such an honor to meet you, Capalla," I suddenly gush.

Capalla laughs softly, tugging on one of her black curls. "Really?"

I blush, realizing how silly that may have sounded. But it's still true. She won the 66th Hunger Games back when I was ten. She was a longshot tribute, one of the ones that had the least Capitol expectancy to survive. I can still remember the moment she fought off a mountain lion by cleverly using a torch, but not before it got a swipe in across her face and right side. But she lived. If memory serves right, Capalla is District 3's only victor in the past twenty years. She ended up being my favorite tribute during her Games, the one who I cheered for.

"Well, consider me flattered," Capalla says. She beams at me and Lyme. "I'm glad to meet you too, Fern. And you too, Lyma-bean."

Lyme scoffs, rolling her eyes. "Here we go." But then she almost smiles again.

"How was your commute from Seven?" Beetee asks me.

I shrug. "Not bad. I miss seeing the snow in the mountains from the Victory Tour."

"Ah, I hate the snow," Capalla laughs. "But then again you must get even more than us back in Seven."

Beetee gazes happily up at me from his seat. "I do love District Seven. We've actually been working on a new process to streamline log stripping. It's all using lasers with this handheld machine. Very efficient."

"It's one of the best," Capalla says with an energetic nod.

Beetee pushes his sliding glasses back up. "Some of the most brilliant minds are involved."

"Talking about me again, Beetee?" a smooth voice behind us teases.

We all turn to see Finnick Odair guiding an elderly woman using a cane, her hand in the crook of his bent arm. I can feel the red creeping across my face instantly. I think anyone in Panem would agree that Finnick Odair is... well, very good-looking to say the least. His bronze hair is tousled in a very this-is-meant-to-look-casual-but-it-probably-took-my-stylist-an-hour kind of way. He's been put into a sleek navy jacket over a puffy white shirt with a few buttons undone. With his sun-kissed skin, it looks like he's stepped right off the District 4 beaches.

Finnick stops a few feet from us and his famous sea-green eyes move towards me. "You must be the new girl. Fern, is it? You look much better in person, the television never does any of us justice, does it?"

I flounder for words, feeling stupid. Joan is going to lose her mind when I tell her I met Finnick Odair.

"Stop teasing, Odair," Lyme scolds him jokingly, folding her arms.

"Who's teasing?" Finnick says, his voice low. He smiles at me and I force myself not to look away. Lyme is right. This isn't the kind of flirting that happened when Vis talked to me in the hallway. This is something else, like he's testing me to see how I'll reply.

So I stand up a bit straighter. "It's nice to meet you." I stick out my hand like Beetee had a minute ago.

A hint of surprise flickers across Finnick's face for a moment before it settles back into a charming smile. "You too, Miss Fern." He shakes my hand before motioning to the gray-haired woman beside him. "This is Mags, the one and only."

The woman gives him a look but smiles. She reaches out a gnarled, aged hand to touch my arm once. She says something, but it's so garbled that I struggle to discern her words.

"Yes, Fern does look lovely," Finnick offers quickly.

I smile at Mags, grateful for Finnick's deft translation. "Thank you. Your necklace is beautiful."

She pats the shell on the woven string around her neck. When she speaks again, I manage to pick up the word "home."

"I loved District Four," I tell her. It's almost true, when I just think about the beautiful ocean rather than my nightmare from this morning.

"Welcome to the Seventy-fourth Hunger Games chariot parade!" Caesar Flickerman's voice calls. The crowd erupts into cheers as he and Claudius Templesmith applaud on the television screens dotting the long street leading to City Circle. Caesar has ditched the red theme from last year, and his hair is now a powder-blue. "Let the ceremony begin!"

Lyme sits down, inviting me to sit next to her. I follow, and the pair from 3 take the seats next to me. I half expect Axel to sit there, but instead he barely looks back at me, sitting down in the front row next to Luster. Haymitch Abernathy, who sits down behind me, and the victor from 11 bet on whether or not a tribute will get sick during the chariot ride.

I bite my lip as the massive wooden doors at the end of the street begin to creak open. The crowd's cheering rises.

District 1 emerges to plenty of cheers, but that's no surprise. They're always crowd favorites for the Capitol, and they always look fabulous with their jeweled outfits. This year they're silver with shiny tunics. District 2 is close behind with golden armor and crowns.

"They look stunning," I tell Lyme.

She smiles tightly. "Yes, our stylist has an eye for unforgettable costumes."

Districts 3 and 4 pass by. And then the chariot for District 5 appears, drawn by two charcoal-gray horses. My stomach tightens as Caesar Flickerman and Cladius Templesmith begin discussing their glittering silver outfits. I can barely focus on the commentary. My eyes practically glue themselves to the chariot as Vis Lumen appears on the television screens. He waves to the passing crowd, not quite smiling.

It's bizarre, seeing him in person again. The boy who I saw on my victory tour is now standing in a chariot, a tribute.

I don't have time to process the thoughts as District 6 emerges, and then 7.

My hands tighten around the fabric of my dress as the television screens take in Lauren and Bole. They're dressed up as trees, but that's no surprise. Decima has been doing it for forty years and she clearly doesn't feel like stopping. Still, Lauren manages to wave and smile at the crowd, the branches on her headdress fluttering around. Bole glances over at her occasionally and manages to catch a flower someone tosses down.

Overall, they look good. As good as anyone can look dressed as a tree.

"Oh! Trees again! What a surprise," Finnick says, giving Axel a joking smirk.

Axel points at the District 4 tributes. "Oh! Seaweed again!"

Mags cracks up laughing. Luster even laughs from beside Axel. I manage a smile, shaking my head. More and more, I'm seeing how the victors interact with each other. It's not the closed-off attitude tributes have between districts during the Games. Instead, they're like a collection of friends. Some I've seen on television interacting with the victors from 7, but even the ones I don't know are beginning to seem familiar.

The rest of the chariots continue on, moving from 8 to 9, and then 10.

District 11 rolls past us with the small girl and giant boy. The boy stares ahead, a scowl painted across his brow until a crown of leaves. The girl peers shyly around at the crowd, but giggles as she waves a tiny hand. Strength and grace.

I blink and suddenly it's not the two tributes from 11 in the passing chariot. It's Hendrix and Lexi. The wind ruffles Lexi's blonde hair as she turns to look me, her face breaking into a smile and as she reaches over to hold Hendrix's hand.

The breath gets knocked out of me. I squeeze my eyes shut, and when I open them again it's back to District 11. I'm still trying to catch my breath when the crowd starts to gasp and crane their necks.

"Haymitch, your tributes are... on fire?" one of the victors says behind me says.

The mentor from 12 frowns as if the other victor is joking. "Well, is someone gonna' put them out?"

I turn to the large screens as Caesar Flickerman and Claudius Templesmith disappear. Instead, the image is replaced with the the tributes from 12: the dark-haired girl who volunteered for her sister, and the blonde boy next to her. Flames trail them, blowing and blazing in the night. Their headdresses burn like crowns of flames.

"Katniss Everdeen, the Girl on Fire!" Caesar Flickerman cheers as the crowd begins to scream their names.

Next to me, Lyme sits stunned.

The two teenagers entwine their hands, raising them above the flames streaming from their heads. The Capitol goes berserk, and a rain of flowers fall on the tributes from District 12. The screens only show those two as the chariots continue to roll towards City Circle.

Capalla turns to Beetee and starts waving her hands, whispering urgently.

My heart sinks as the entire Capitol screams for the Girl on Fire.

Fire may be dangerous, but this girl might be even more of a threat.

- Training Center Lobby -

I glance back, expecting to see Axel catching up, but he's talking with Luster once again. This time, a man has joined them, but he has his back turned so I can't his face. I sigh, turning and following the mentor pair from District 3 into the Training Center. The cool air hits me, and goosebumps flash across my skin. The lobby is mostly empty now except for a few straggling tributes. The stylists have already taken up the others it seems.

"It was good to meet you, Fern," Capalla tells me, giving me a quick wave as she and Beetee head towards an elevator.

Beetee suddenly remembers I'm there, turning and waving, managing to trip over his own feet in the process. Capalla helps him up, laughing the whole time, and they get into one of the elevators as an Avox holds the doors open. I shake my head, finally let myself laugh.

When I turn around, Axel is still in the middle of a conversation, now with several more victors having joined. Back in 7 he usually doesn't seem like a social butterfly, but I wouldn't believe it now seeing him.

Oh well. I'll go see Lauren and Bole first, then.

I'm turning towards an elevator when Vis catches my eye, still in his silver costume. He pauses next to one of the elevators before tilting his head towards it ever so slightly. When the doors open, he quickly moves inside, and I don't hesitate to follow him. I can feel my heartbeat speeding up as I turn and hit the button to close the elevator doors. District 5 is the fifth floor, so I barely have any time to speak to him. But it's like we both know we have to say something.

"I'm so sorry, Vis," I finally blurt when I look at him.

He opens his mouth and then closes it, searching for words. Then he tightens his jaw, blinking hard, probably to fight back tears. "Ironic, isn't it?"

I swallow hard. We pass the second floor. "It shouldn't have happened to you."

He shrugs. "I think I could say that for every tribute, huh? I think I finally understand you a bit more. I don't think I really did during your Victory Tour."

"You and your brother were so kind to me," I say, and my voice breaks. "I'm just so..." Sorry? Of course I am, I already said it. But the words don't seem like enough. They aren't enough. I know exactly what he's feeling.

Vis takes a deep breath, steeling himself. "I honestly never thought I'd end up going into the arena. Does anyone, really? Makes me feel like I only have a few more chances to live left."

The words fall out of my mouth as we pass the fourth floor. "You could win."

Vis stares at me for a moment, and I know I've said something I shouldn't as a mentor for District 7. But it feels like I'm talking to a friend. Suddenly districts don't seem to matter as much. Maybe he's realizing it too. Maybe that's why Vis' eyes seem to brighten just a bit.

He leans over and presses his lips to his mine.

I'm stunned, unmoving as I feel his hand drift up to my short red hair. I've never kissed anyone before. I certainly never imagined it happening in the elevator of the Training Center. Not with the son of District 5's mayor. I expected something... normal. But this is Vis, the boy who flirted with a victor in the Justice Building. I don't think there's much normal about him.

The elevator dings, slowing down as we reach the fifth floor.

Vis steps back, his hand falling, and the warmth it brought leaves. "I figured I might not have many more chances to do that," he says and then he gives me a quick smile, somewhere between reckless and sad, and walks through the open elevator doors.

I don't have much time to gather myself as the elevator rises up two floors to mine. When I step out, I can still Vis' warm, gentle hand in my hair.