A/N

We're getting closer and closer, guys! District 10 has arrived, leaving us with just 2 more reapings (after a full year and a bit…oops.)

Enjoy!

Chase Keldheart POV

"Well, aren't you just oh-so-handsome! Look at you! Rocking that uniform, and that whip and all. You look so badass!"

The peacekeeper who's name escapes me (as they all do) simply stares at me, irritation written all over his face.

"Chase, don't you have a reaping to prepare for?

I smirk, mental images of the upcoming reaping flashing through my mind.

"Yup. But I've got it under control. Trust me, I have a big surprise planned."

The peacekeepers harmless scowl quickly morphs into a fierce glare.

"Mr. Keldheart, if you do anything close to the shitstorm you caused last year you will get three times the punishment! Do I make myself clear?"

I simply chuckle, the flashbacks taking over. It was my second to last reaping, and I had humiliated two of the peacekeepers by tripping them as they followed the poor 13-year-old boy who had been reaped to the stage. I'd gotten thirty lashes for that one.

Three times the punishment, he says? Well, that would make 90 lashes. Huh. I've never gotten that many.

Ask me if that scares me? Not in the slightest. I've gotten whipped so many times, it almost feels like a feather stroking my back now.

"Bring it on, sir! I think I could use some actual pain for once in my life. See you soon, bro! I'm looking forward to it."

With that, I turn and walk away before he could react any further. There are sure to be other peacekeepers around I can mess with.

I'm not entirely sure when this hobby of mine began, but I guess it started when I was around thirteen. I was finally getting old enough to fully realize just how much bullshit our so-called country is run on. I'd always known the Capitol was selfish and violent, but never just exactly how corrupt they are. I knew the peacekeepers were harsh and strict, but never that they were trained in District 2 (my personal most-hated district) and that their job had little to do with keeping peace at all.

So, for lack of better explanation, I became a rebel. I took any opportunity I could to openly mock the Capitol, the peacekeepers, and everything they stood for. I got whipped every single day, sometimes more than once. I'm honestly surprised I've never received worse, with all the things I've said in the past.

The first few times were tough. For about a year I could not stay conscious throughout the punishment, and I'd wake up either in my house or alone in the square. As my body slowly got used to the sensation, it hurt me less and less. These days? I continue to mock the peacekeeper as he whips me. I no longer feel a thing.

When I was fifteen, my parents disowned me. They were so afraid, afraid of how they might be punished for the things I've said. They packed up my things while I was at school and told me to leave. Simple as that. And so I did.

I made a recently abandoned house my home, and I've lived alone there ever since, basically relying solely on tesserae to survive. I don't care in the slightest how many times my name is in that ball. If I get reaped, it simply means I get to ridicule the Capitol right to their face.

For the moment, however, I am headed to a slightly more decent house. That of my parents, which was once also mine. They don't want much to do with me, but I make a point to talk to them as often as I can. After all, they did give me life as well as everything I could possibly ever need for those first fifteen years of my life.

I simply walk right into the house; they're used to it by now. My mother comes slowly down the stairs, looking completely unsurprised to see me. I've visited them every reaping morning for the past three that I haven't lived with them. They were likely expecting me. .

"Hey Ma, how you doing on this fine morning?" I ask lightly, trying desperately to put a smile on her face. I haven't seen one from her in years.

Unfortunately, her face remains completely serious, her posture frigid and uptight. Still afraid of the son that went so out of control, the only son she's ever had. Sometimes I feel bad for my actions.

Sometimes.

"Well." She responds, not quite looking me in the eye, "And yourself?"

I resist the urge to roll my eyes. I'm her son, not some kind of business associate. Why so formal?

"Better than ever."

The room falls awkwardly silent, the way it always does when I'm with my parents. Not much to talk about when you hardly see each other. Or when your son has nothing better to do then defy authority. In our case, it's both.

My father comes into the room then, looking like he'd rather be in a Capitol prison than in this place at this time.

"Chase." He greets coldly, with a halfhearted nod in my direction.

I nod back wordlessly. At least my mother sort of makes an effort.

"So Chase," my mother begins, her voice overly bright and almost slaphappy in her attempt to lighten the mood, "This is your last reaping it seems?"

"Yup. One more and then I'm free from at least one of the many bullshit systems this country runs."

My mother flinches at the comment, immediately looking left and right to make sure no peacekeepers are flooding in to arrest us. My dad simply sets his jaw, looking away from me as if that might make me disappear from his sight. It's probably best I go now.

"Well, I need to get ready. See you guys at the reaping!"

I leave the house immediately, not bothering to listen for a response I know I won't receive.

Aria Herd POV

"That's it, Thistle. Eat it all up, good boy!"

I stroke my horse's head as he gobbles down the carrots I have fed him, sighing silently under my breath as I try to fight the nervousness. Reaping day has always sort of freaked me out, despite the fact that I've never once needed to apply for tesserae in my life.

My family is fairly well-off compared to most in District 10. We live on a big ranch – the second biggest in the District – and we have everything we could possibly need, including countless animals that I consider almost like my siblings. They never answer back, but that doesn't change how much talking to them brings me joy and comfort.

I give Thistle one last pat before moving on to his female counterpart, Lydia, feeding her and speaking softly to her just as I did with Thistle. The little, almost baby, horse beside her was fed first. He was named Foxy, courtesy of my two twin best friends Dakota and Eve, who knew the name would make me cringe every time I heard it. I'd change the name myself, but I promised them they could name the next animal we brought in. Alas, a promise is a promise, and so I have to keep the name.

"Why couldn't we just name you Cecil or something?" I ask the horse, running my fingers through his mane thoughtfully.

"Because that'd be stupid. Foxy is a gorgeous name!"

I whirl around in surprise at the sudden familiar voice. Dakota and Eve are walking towards me in matching yellow dresses, the smirk on Dakota's face clearly informing me of who had spoken.

"Come on, don't pretend you don't love that name more than Cecil." She says, spitting the name out as of it's some sort of poison.

"Did it really have to be a name like Foxy? Sounds like the potential name of one of those girls who goes to "entertain" the Head Peacekeeper for money." I point out, grinning at their horror-struck reactions.

"Okay, that was an image I did not need!" Eve cries.

I laugh at her while storing away the carrots, leading the twins into the house and up to my bedroom.

"Yeah, try getting that image every time you have to call your horse."

I flick on the light in my room, opening up my huge closet to find the perfect outfit while the twins make themselves comfortable on my bed.

"Sundress or skirt? Choose one now." I demand the twins. I never have been able to choose my outfits. There's just so many options!

"Dress!"

"Skirt!"

Almost comically, the sisters glare at each other the instant they realize what happened and immediately start bickering.

"She wore a skirt last year!" Dakota whines.

"Yeah, and it looked gorgeous!" Eve shoots back, "Why not do it again?"

"Because it would be nice to do something different, Eve!"

I tune out their arguing, knowing all too well that it will stop in no more than five minutes. Just as I turn away from the girls, a simple blue sundress catches my eye. I remember buying it last year, just days after the reaping. Ironically enough, Eve had been the one to deem it "a perfect reaping outfit".

"I think," I claim, catching the twins' attention immediately, "I'm going to go with a dress."

Dakota cheers, throwing her hands up in the air triumphantly while Eve stares at me in mock-horror.

"Why would you betray me like this?!" she exclaims dramatically.

"Because I've decided to wear, as you excitedly put it last year, 'the perfect reaping outfit for next year!'".

I pull the sundress out of the closet to show her, and Eve grins in recognition.

By all means, wear that gorgeous thing!" she exclaims blissfully.

I chuckle at this, swiftly slipping the dress on and putting on my sandals to match.

"So, we all ready to go or what?"

"Yup." The twins reply in unison as they get up off of the bed.

We head down the stairs just in time to run into my parents, who are both looking prim and proper for the reaping,

"Hey Evota!" my dad greets the twins with a grin, using that stupid nickname he had come up with for them back when we were twelve.

They both giggle and greet him back with enthusiasm while I playfully roll my eyes at my father's antics.

"Are we all ready to go?" my mother inquires, "I really should get back to work.."

"Cortni, the reaping will start and end when it wants regardless of what time we get there" my father assures her with an amused glint in his green eyes.

My mother simply gives a small smile and turns away, her blue eyes filled with worry. She worries too much over her work.

I decide it's time for us to leave now.

"Well? Let's go! Let's get our fourth reaping over with."

Chase Keldheart POV

I slump against my front door, relieved to finally be in my own house. The awkwardness in my parents' house got to me more than it usually does this morning, much to my annoyance. It's so much easier to just not care.

I head over to my bedroom which is literally just at the corner of this room – yup, a one-room house is my palace – to decide on what to wear.

Every year I do something "crazy", something that will upset the peacekeepers, the mayor, the escort or lord knows all three. This is the last one, and it needs to be really special.

I spend minute after minute searching through my clothes mixing and matching them this way and that before I finally freeze, catching my own reflection in the dirty, abandoned mirror in front of me.

My green eyes are wild, black hair messy and tousled, covering my eyes with their length.

And my scars are extremely visible.

Each one tells a story. Some are from those harsh, pre-numbness whippings that rendered me unconscious and vulnerable on the ground. Others are more recent, created on my skin as I mocked and cursed the peacekeeper to oblivion. There are some fresh ones from yesterday, exceptionally red and angry-looking next to the older ones.

With a smirk, I finally decide what I'm going to wear.

I leave the house in my underwear, leaving the scars exposed for all to see, ignoring the stares until I've reached the square.

The line to check-in is definitely long, but I've seen longer. We're late enough that the crowd has cleared some, but early enough that we're not among the last to arrive.

I go to stand in line behind two blond twins and a red-head who are laughing hysterically about god knows what. They don't seem to notice my scars, which is good I guess. As long as the Capitol gets a good look at it, see the harm they cause in the districts…

"Next!"

I look up to find the three girls who were in front of me all occupying separate booths, the one free Capitolite gawking not-so-subtly at my bare, scarred torso.

I walk over to him with a smirk, flexing my biceps to slightly intimidate him. He simply clears his throat, but I can practically see the nervous sweat dripping down his face.

"Your name, sir?"

Sir. I stifle a laugh and extend my arm over for him to prick, making sure to hold it at just the right angle where the muscle looks best.

"Keldheart. Chase Keldheart. Please, no need to applaud."

The Capitol man swiftly pricks my finger, checking off my name once his fancy machine has proven that my DNA does in fact belong to me.

"Thank you, you may go." He informs me shakily, "Next!"

"Thank you, my dashing friend!"

I walk off without so much as another glance in his direction, ignoring the one glare I've felt on me for the past five minutes. The peacekeeper from this morning.

The impulse hits me as I walk past him, and I can't help myself. I grin to myself and, for old time's sake, stick my leg out and whip it behind his knees. He naturally keels over, his legs buckling beneath him. I pick up my pace, but his voice still can be heard over my cackling.

"Fifteen lashes the minute this reaping ends, Mr. Keldheart! Do you hear me?!"

Yeah, I hear you old man. Doesn't dampen my mood one bit.

I make my way smoothly into the eighteen section, some boys in the front praising me for the stunt I just pulled. I simply chuckle and fist-bump them as I walk past.

The escort slowly makes her way onto the stage then, sporting an outfit which is just as beautiful as last year's. And the year before that. And the year before that. And so on…

I turn to the boy next to me.

"Damn, girl. Never thought I'd be attracted to a woman with green skin, yellow eyes and purple hair…"

The boy guffaws, muttering something about the stupidity of Capitol fashion. I recognize him from school. Rubus something-or-other. Nice guy, fairly quiet. Always laughs at my jokes, which is always a plus.

"Greetings to all of District Ten!" the escort yells into her microphone.

Oh, boy. This is going to be long.

Aria Herd POV

"I would like to thank each and every one of you for showing up to today's reaping, it really is an honor to see all your lovely faces again this year!"

As if we had a choice. I glance over at the twins who are both rolling their green eyes, which are sparkling in the sunlight like they always do. I smirk at them before turning my attention back to the escort, who is still talking about how District 10 has always been her favorite. How she requested to stay here when offered an upgrade to District 7. How the people are so lovely and civilized and how the district is beautiful despite being so "smelly". Well I guess when you're not used to cow manure…

"I will always be your escort till the day I die, District 10! Don't you fret about that. Anyway, on to the reaping we go! Let's see which lovely children I will have the pleasure of meeting this year!"

She walks over to the female ball and the words immediately begin to run through my mind. The same words I tell myself at every reaping when the escort has her clean, manicured hand swishing around inside that ball, unnecessarily dragging out the process just as she does with every part of the reaping.

Please don't let it be me. Not me. Please. I've only lived fifteen years. Please. Not Dakota. Not Eve. They don't deserve this either…no one does…

I can feel my eyes slowly tearing up with fear and anticipation as the escort finally rips a slip of paper out of the ball, walking ever so slowly across the stage to her microphone. Dakota grabs my hand, along with her sister's on the other side of her, and I can feel it shaking. Please.

"Alright, District 10. Here is our female tribute of the year! I wonder what she will be like. Quiet or loud? Tall or short? Thin or fat? Blonde or brunette?"

The last thing she says relieves me in the silliest of ways. I'm not blonde or brunette. I'm a redhead.

But Dakota and Eve are.

"Enough anticipation!" she suddenly shouts with glee, "Let's read the lovely name!"

She unfolds the slip painfully slowly, despite her claim that there had been enough anticipation. She looks up at the crowd with the tiniest of smiles.

"A lovely name indeed."

Please, please, please…

"Aria Herd!"

Every fifteen-year old immediately makes a path for me, thousands of eyes suddenly focused on me.
Eve has her face buried into Dakota's shoulder, soaking it with her tears, while Dakota stares at me emotionlessly, determined to not cry.

I need to fake this. I cannot let my fear show. Just like that time Gregory Middleton, one of the cutest boys in school and my long-time crush, rejected me two years ago. I had faked being my usual bubbly, fun-loving self the entire day before finally breaking down with the twins in the comfort of my home.
This situation may be a thousand – no, a million – times worse, but I will handle it the exact same way.

Truth be told, I waste no time leaving my section. Not a tear is shed. I have a huge, genuine smile on my face as I pass the fourteen, thirteen and twelve year olds on my way to the stage. I wave to the crowd like one of those Capitol actresses once I get to the stage and beam back at the escort looking just as happy as she is.

Little do they all know, I'm slowly breaking down.

Chase Keldheart POV

After what felt like about a thousand years, a girl is finally reaped. I watch her as she walks to the stage, a huge grin plastered on her face no doubt to conceal her inner turmoil. I'd seen her around the district before, one of the wealthier girls; her wavy red hair has always been striking, unique in this district. She waves to the crowd like she's the happiest girl on Earth while the escort beams at her.

"Tell us your name again, darling."

Of course. Make the process twice as long.

"Aria Herd."

Her voice shakes slightly – so slightly that none of the Capitol people or maybe even the younger kids at the reaping probably didn't notice. The escort simply grins.

"Lovely name, my dear! Now it's time for our handsome young man!"

She walks ever so slowly to the male ball, triggering sighs all around me. It's like the Capitol people will do absolutely anything to prolong our torture.

An idea suddenly sparks through my mind. I've got it! I know exactly how to make my last reaping memorable. Not by showing up in my underwear, or tripping the peacekeepers.

By volunteering.

Her hand is in the ball mixing and stirring the tiny slips of paper, each one marked with the name of some unlucky boy whose luck will suddenly be ignited because of me. You're welcome, kid.

The longer I think about it the more I know I need to do it. This could be my chance. My chance to make fun of the Capitol publicly, for all of Panem to see. To finally expose our nation for what it is and get people talking.

Maybe continue what Katniss Everdeen started in the Mockingjay Rebellion that came so close to succeeding.

The escort finally has a name. She drags her name to the microphone and, after her usual speculation of what the tribute might look like, unfolds the slip and reads the name for all to hear.

"Wesley Higgins!"

A boy from the seventeen section, almost as tall as me, steps out of his section, his face free of all emotion. He might actually be able to make it.

Lucky for him, he won't have to test that.

"I volunteer!"

I nearly shock myself with the certainty in my voice; I've certainly shocked those around me.

I step up to the stage swiftly, without even a glance in Wesley's direction.

"Let's cut to the chase," I say before the escort can speak, "Chase Keldheart is the name. And might I say, you are looking gorgeous today!"

The escort blushes, her green cheeks turning the strangest color, and giggles into her microphone.

"My, my, charming isn't he! I love him already! Shake hands, lovelies!"

Aria locks her dark blue eyes with mine as she shakes my hand, looking somehow both annoyed and amused by my behavior.

The escort loves me already, and the Capitol probably does too. Oh, if only they knew what I have in store for them….

Aria Herd POV

I finally allow myself to shed tears in the tribute room. Not very many, but enough to get the shock and fear out of my system.

Now, all I need to do is take this situation one step at a time. No time to worry about the future.

The door opens, making me jump in my seat. In come my parents, my father looking completely different from his usual self while my mother looks like her usual self simply amplified. Reserved and quiet – not because she is working but because her fifteen-year-old daughter is about to enter a competition in which the price of losing is death. My father simply looks devastated, all trace of the humor from this morning gone from his eyes.

"Aria, honey, you need to be very brave over the next few weeks. Don't let the fear get to you." My mother warns shakily.

I nod my head, "I know. I won't."

She smiles tearily before handing something to my father, whispering for him to give it to me.

He walks towards me, kneeling down to my seated level and places the most beautiful necklace in my hand. It has an expensive-looking charm on it, shaped like the exact type of horses we own at our ranch. I fall in love with it immediately.

"My token?" I ask, tears slowly forming in my eyes.

"Yes. But not only that, your birthday gift as well. You were supposed to receive it on the actual day, but…" he trails off, surely not wanting to mention the fact that I may not even live to fully see my sixteenth birthday, which would fall on the very first day of the Games. The bloodbath. I shudder just thinking about it.

The peacekeepers are coming. I could hear their footprints down the hall, making their way towards the room. My parents can hear them too and they each wrap their arms around me with words of encouragement, my father even cracking a half-hearted joke before the peacekeepers roughly escort them from the room.

Stuck in my own head once again. Not for very long, tough – Dakota and Eve burst into the room just seconds after the room falls silent again.

They look almost more awful than I feel. Both girls look pale and shocked, their eyes red and puffy with recently shed tears. We stare at each other in complete and utter silence, none of us knowing what to say. Seconds pass, nearly a whole painful minute, until Dakota finally speaks.

"Aria, do you remember that time when we were nine? The first time we all got together to watch the Games – really watch them, not just sit at the couch with our parents while daydreaming – and we finally saw what the Hunger Games really were for the first time?"

I nod my head, remembering the scene perfectly. We had been at the twins' house, munching on some candy bought from the square. Watching horror-struck as the two remaining girls of the 96th Games – an eighteen-year-old from Two and a sixteen-year-old from Seven – hacked away at each other on the screen. Both girls had been bleeding and broken and Eve had been certain they would both die, leaving no victor for the first time in Hunger Games history. The girl from Seven had won against all odds, passing out immediately after the cannon of her rival boomed and barely surviving.

"Remember what we all agreed on that day? That if any of us was ever reaped, we would do everything we could to come back for each other? Even if it meant fighting all the way to the end, like that poor girl from Seven, till you have nothing left to give?"

I nod again, practically hearing our little nine-year-old voices making those deep promises. I remember.

"I'll do it," I promise, "even if I come back with a missing limb, or thousands of scars, I won't let my body give up until I'm absolutely certain it's safe to. When the Capitol people in the hovercraft – the Victor one – can save me."

Dakota nods, satisfied. The room goes quiet again for a moment, until Eve finally speaks.

"That necklace, it's gorgeous! You weren't wearing it this morning…"

"An early birthday gift. From my parents." I explain.

The twins nod, their eyes widening at their realization of the unfortunate placement of my birthday this year.

"Do us a favor, Aria," Eve says gravely, "Give yourself the best birthday present ever, and make it through the bloodbath. And every day after that."

I nod my head, now feeling more determined than afraid.

"I will."

The peacekeepers come, ripping my two best friends away the second they release me from their little group hug, leaving me alone again.

The longer I sit there, the more my determination replaces my fear. Because now I have motivation, something to strive for.

I will fight till the last possible millisecond, and I will not go down easily. Just watch me.

Chase Keldheart POV

Well, one thing's for sure; this room is a lot nicer than my one-room palace. Seriously, why does there even need to be so much luxury and expensiveness in a room that's only ever inhabited for, like, five minutes once a year? Guess it's just another way to taunt us. Like they're saying, "Look at how rich we are, we can spend this much on a tiny barely-ever-used room and you can barely afford your shack of a house". Yup, the Capitol sure is charming.

I don't expect any visitors. As much as I sort of wish my parents would come, I know they won't. Plus I've never really had friends. People don't hate me – well, except the peacekeepers of course – but they don't necessarily like me either. Most just think I'm a funny guy – which I am, I guess.

I reach into my pocket, pulling out the old picture of my parents that I carry around with me every day. I snuck it from their house during a recent and rather unpleasant visit. It's their wedding picture. I love to look at it. They look so happy, my mother smiling and linking arms with my father, who's grinning like the happiest, luckiest man on earth. As much as they'll never understand me, I do love my parents and would never wish any harm upon them.

As I sit in the tribute room, my thoughts slowly begin drifting towards the Games ahead of me. Will I win? Could I win? It's hard to tell. I would say I definitely have a chance under normal circumstances. However, I plan to publicly slam the Capitol any chance I get, which certainly won't make them happy. Will they set up my death through the Gamemakers? Almost undoubtedly.

The thought of dying does somewhat scare me. I just can't picture myself pale, cold and unmoving in a cardboard box. However, I am comforted by the thought of having died trying to defend the truth. Trying to show people that the Panem is a corrupt and toxic nation that must be fixed. People will remember me in the future, hopefully a brighter time than right now. Hopefully after a third, successful rebellion.

I nearly jump out of my seat when the door suddenly swings open.

A woman steps cautiously into my room, her steps just as timid and fearful as she is, biting her lip nervously. My eyes widen in shock at the sight of her. One of the last people I expected to see here.

My mother.

She stares at me for a second, and I could practically see the wheels turning in her mind as she tries to find the right words.

"Your father refused to come. I don't plan to stay very long, I just have one question."

I have no idea what I expected. An accusation, a scolding, maybe a crying session from my mom requiring me to be uncomfortably consoling. But a question?

Her question, it seems, consists of only one word.

"Why?"

Easy question, mother.

"I want to humiliate the Capitol. Publicly. It's that simple."

She shakes her head, lips pursed.

"You know that's not what I'm referring to."

Oh. Why. Not just the Games. But everything.

"Mom, I learned about the Capitol in school. They've been teaching us the same crap for years and years, and as I got older I managed to see through all the bullshit propaganda."

My mother immediately glances around the room nervously, searching for any hidden cameras that may be in the room.

"Mom, there are no cameras. Trust me, I checked. Just…please believe me. The Capitol isn't what they seem to be. Read between the lines, you'll see it."

She keeps her gaze fixated onto the floor, pondering my words carefully.

"I believe you, Chase. I've always suspected everything they've said. I just hated the fact that you were too open about it. And as much as I hate the fact that you've basically just sold your life away doing this, I'm proud of you for standing up when your father and I were too afraid to."

At these words, the strangest feeling comes over me. Almost a calm, serene sense of peace. Because now I finally know that my parents – well, my mother at least – did care. It was fear that led to everything that's happened. And knowing that they accepted and agreed with everything I was about to do would only make the job easier.

Several minutes later I'm outside the room, with the red-haired Aria girl by my side, looking much more determined and ready then before. She nods at me, a friendly gesture, although I don't have any plans to be her ally.

A camera is immediately shoved into my face while another is shoved into Aria's, a reporter with a high-pitched, horrible voice asking how I felt about the days to come.

I don't speak a word. I simply look into the camera, lift my hand towards it and oh-so-kindly flip off every Capitol viewer in Panem.

A/N

So, that's it! I know I said I would be able to update more, but this summer has been absolutely crazy! I'll try my best, but I don't want to give false hope. The good news is, we've only got 2 more reapings before we can finally move on to the train rides and opening ceremonies (I'll probably write a short filler chapter involving the tributes getting to know their district partners on the train and then a longer one about the ceremony/getting "beautified" etc. Not sure yet. If anyone has a preference feel free to let me know!)

Anyway, hope you all like this chapter! District 11 is on its way!

Candy~