Sorry for the general blah-ness (and shortness) of this chapter, guys. I was feeling uninspired. Emotionally stable characters are much harder to write.

Fun Fact of the Chapter: Marius's father is a Peacekeeper. So I guess that means sometime in 117 years the peacekeeper rules about not getting married or having children have changed... hmm... Good thing this is an AU fic.

...

Marius Sheer, District Two

"You know, you're gonna make one fine tribute, boy."

I look up from my breakfast—cold cereal and eggs, not that it matters—to see Dad standing there, crossing his arms with a gruff sort of pride. "Mm," I mutter in reply, digging my fork into an egg.

"You're more level-headed than half the others out there, and much stronger," he continues. "Yeah, you'll dominate the competition."

"Sure, Dad." I give him a more vocal response, standing up.

"You boys ready?" Mom stands at the bottom of the stairs, Maria bouncing down the stairs behind her in her new Reaping dress. I nod in assent, and apparently Dad does too, because we're off.

I don't say much on the way there, mostly listen to Maria. "Why do you wanna go into the games, Marius?" she asks, half-serious. "I mean, you see what they go through in that arena. But I suppose the money and fame is worth it. And you're certainly ready. But what do you think the other tributes will be like? Your district partner, who do you think it'll be?"

I tune her out with my own thoughts. Why do I want to go into the Hunger Games in the first place? Why should I, of all people, win?

Well, for one, I'm ready. I'm prepared. This is what I've been training for practically all my life.

Two, to give Maria and the rest of my family a better life. I mean, we're not poor or anything, but Maria has no interest in training for the games or being a peacekeeper, and I'd rather not have her go into the mines, thank you very much. I guess she could take over my mother's job, running the mines, but still... A privileged life in the Victor's Village would be better for everyone concerned.

Three, of course, for Armen. Armen Block, the District Two male tribute last year, my best friend. Who died. 2nd place, while the girl from Eleven went free. So I've gotta get into that arena. To avenge him, you know.

We sign in, go off to our respective sections, wait as the mayor reads a bunch of documents on the history of Panem that we've all heard before. The escort is introduced (Wilder Cain, same old guy as usual), the girls' name picked. An obviously unprepared 14-year-old volunteers, a girl named Emerald. And then comes my moment.

"Cargo Montgomery!"

"I volunteer as the tribute of District Two," I follow on his heels.

I'm slightly taken aback by how powerful my own voice sounds. I walk up to the stage, feeling every eye in District Two trained on me.

Because I am going to the Hunger Games. I am going to be a tribute. I am heading off to the Capitol. I am entering the arena. Maybe I'll even win.

Is this how Armen felt? I can't help thinking. Surely he was just as excited. And I remember seeing the joy in his face, and yet that focused intensity that got him so far...

My district partner, Emerald, gives me an odd look, and I realize that I must be glaring again. It seems to be my default mode. Or maybe I'm just angry about Armen. Whatever it is, she seems like she's about to burst into laughter about it. I furrow my brow. She cocks an eyebrow, and then looks me up and down, assessing her competition.

Wait a minute... she no longer looks as innocent as before. More calculating. Young or not, this is a tribute I've got to be careful not to underestimate.

As if sensing that I've broken through her facade, a foolish grin bursts across her face and she waves friendlily at me. But I'm not fooled. I glare at her even more.

Montague, the mayor of Two, and my mentor for this year, gets up and reads the Treaty of Treason as Emerald and I shake hands. Then we're whisked off to the Justice Building for our final goodbyes.

My family comes in first, of course, with all the usual fuss about how I'm going to be a great tribute and how I should remember my wits and never hesitate to kill, because that means I'm one step closer to coming home. After a while I tune them out, mostly because I heard it all this morning, and eventually they leave, to be replaced by Callia Whip.

Callia. I'm not exactly sure what to say about her. She's my... friend. I would say girlfriend, except we're not technically going out. I'm sure she knows that I like her and she's hinted that she likes me back, but... yeah. She was Armen's girlfriend before he went off to the games, so. Yeah. Awkward situation...

She sits there, staring at me for a moment, before saying quietly, "I can't believe it."

"What?"

"You." She inhales. "Marius, you saw what happened to Armen when he went into that arena. And now you're going off..."

"I'm doing it for him," I say after a pause. "You do realize that, right?"

She nods. "It's very... brave of you," she comments. "But—why? What good would it do?"

That's a question I've only glanced at, never lingering on, because I don't really know the answer. I just know that it's the right thing to do. "I have to try," I tell her, shrugging. "It just seems... right. It's what I have to do. It's a... thing... this is Two. We'll think of any reason to justify getting into the games."

I'm mildly shocked to hear these words coming out of my mouth, but I guess there's no going back. Callia takes in a few breaths and makes what sounds suspiciously like a sob. I'm puzzling over what to do next when the Peacekeeper in charge announces that it's Callia's time to leave.

"Wait," she tells him, and then pulls something out of her pocket. I almost flinch as I recognize it. A silver chain necklace. A gift from last year's tribute.

She places it into my palm. "The family gave it to me when he died. None of them found any use for it. Wear it in the arena, will you?" I nod. "Something to remember him by, in order to keep your goals in sight."

And then she kisses me lightly on the cheek. "Come home, Marius." And with that, she's out.

Callia Whip just kissed me on the cheek.

Callia Whip, Armen's former girlfriend, has kissed me.

Oh, God.

All the way to the train, I'm lost in some daze of confusion. Masked by focused glares, of course. I really don't know what else to do.

Callia Whip has just given me another reason to win. So win I will.