A/N: Yay, on-time update! God only knows how much I hated writing this. Stupid reaping recaps. Twenty-six districts and the Capitol. This chapter's prize is... Well, it's actually written into the chapter... Anyway, I'll shut up now and let you read the chapter. Enjoy!

Chapter 13: Rivals

Prim and Dillon don't cry until the Justice Building is out of sight, which takes around five minutes, at most. But, boy do they cry. It starts for both of them as quiet, relatively steady sobs, but eventually they evolve to unstoppable bawling, while Peeta and I console them. Meanwhile, Finnick distracts himself in his room. I think there's a handheld portable version of the GameCube in his room to play with. Prim and Dillon cry for what seems like forever. I can't blame them; the Hunger Games leave people traumatised, Annie Cresta for example.

*"^"*

Once the crying subsides to sniffling and somewhat ragged deep breaths, we discuss strategies.

"Well, I'm pretty sure that you'll ally in the arena." I state. Prim and Dillon nod, and I continue. "So, present yourselves as childhood friends. Act like the cute kids you're expected to be. But don't trick them and into thinking you're weak."

"Yeah, don't pull a Johanna Mason." Peeta agrees. Two tributes tried it last year, and both died in the bloodbath. But not before a few brutish kills on their hands, though.

We have the usual tribute talks with them - getting them to admit their strengths and weaknesses, telling to avoid the former and improve the latter. I close my eyes, and for a moment it feels as if these are just a set of ordinary games. Just for a moment; until I open my eyes.

As the train begins to pass the forest, I imagine myself in it with Gale; the day of my reaping. When Gale proposed we run away, deep into the forest. What would've happened if we had ran away all those years ago...

My sister and Peeta would've been sent into the arena together. One or both would die. There probably wouldn't have been a Victor Quarter Quell, or a rebellion. Maybe Gale and I would have had children of our own in the wild. Or maybe we would've stumbled across District 13, and lived there. Maybe-

Peeta shaking my shoulders is what snaps me out of my thoughts. He's pretty much finished up with Prim and Dillon. They're off to their temporary bedrooms, to calm themselves down. As they're heading out of the compartment, I call to them,

"Guys, remember, dinner's in ninety minutes, followed by reaping recaps. Don't forget, or fall asleep." They nod and shuffle to their rooms. Peeta pats my shoulder encouragingly. "This'll be tough, y'know." He tells me. "Yeah." I agree. "Really tough."

*"^"*

Cornelia knocks on the kids' doors to retrieve them. Of course, Prim's face is tear stained. Finnick is of in another world, and, quite surprisingly, Dylan is staying strong. Either that or he's cried himself out. Cornelia apologises for our bad odds yet again, and then the avoxes bring our food to us. I have the lamb stew, and it's better than the canned version we have in Twelve. We all have chocolate milk, and Peeta, Cornelia and I dip bread rolls into it. It really is a satisfying meal. After the main course, we have dessert - chocolate covered strawberries, a delicious apple tart, and a magnificent red velvet cake. It truly is divine.

We make our way to the viewing cabin, and make ourselves comfortable. We're right on time, luckily. Claudius and Caesar are introducing the 95th Annual Hunger Games. I try my best to ignore their voices.

District One isn't any different to any other year - two people are reaped, two people volunteer. The girl, Sapphire, is a gorgeous twenty year-old woman, with blond hair and green eyes; the regular features from One. Bastion, the male tribute, is a handsome, bulky 21 year old with brown hair and green eyes. It turns out that he's Glimmer Amethyst's nephew - the girl from 1 in my games. I stifle a groan at hearing it. Other than that, there's nothing special to them.

Two also has a regular reaping - two brutish, well-built careers volunteer for the Games. Their names are Alexis and Remus. The boy acts arrogant and tries to be intimidating. The girl does the same, but also acts flirtatious with the escort. I sigh at her attempts; she's obviously faking it. He's anything but attractive, and for a split second, she fails to hide her disdain towards him. Only for a moment.

Three has two snivelling weak teenagers. They won't survive the bloodbath. I can't help but pity them and their families. They won't appeal to any sponsors.

Four is another classic Career reaping. Brooke is a beautiful nineteen year-old girl with fiery red hair and hazel eyes. She volunteered for a boy, just fourteen. Apparently he's her brother. The boy is named Troy, a blond-haired, brown-eyed, handsome man, 20 years old. He's no Finnick Odair, but still handsome.

District Five's tributes aren't anything special, and pass of as scrawny and useless. No one would sponsor them unless they were the only ones in the arena.

District Six is no different to any other year. They pose no threat to anyone. More deaths for the bloodbath, it seems.

District 7 has a relatively quiet reaping; nothing special. The tributes reaped go to the Games. The girl, Amber, I think, looks like she has potential. The District mentor, who won three years ago, Ava, smiles. Finally she'll have a chance to bring home a Victor. The boy cries for his mother as his name is called. He's only ten; reaped at his first reaping. He then calls for his brother to volunteer, but it never happens.

District Eight never stands a chance in the Games anymore. The tributes are crying onstage, looking down at their shoes. My thoughts lead me to Cecelia, and I wonder how she won her Games. I make a mental note to look it up later.

Nine seems to have a normal reaping. Two young underfed kids are reaped. However, when the escort asks for volunteers, a stocky 18 year-old boy calls out. The whole district goes silent. After getting over the initial shock, the escort asks for his name, and he introduces himself as Ceres. I can tell that he's going to get great sponsorship.

Ten has a bad reaping. An eleven year old girl and a thirteen year-old male. They sob loudly onstage. Neither will live through the first day. Even their mentor, a peacekeeper from Two, looks at them in pity.

Eleven's reaping is a lot like Ten's; two wailing young teens scuttle onto the stage. Even though I would pity them any other year, I'm glad that about half of the tributes so far stand no chance. It gives Prim and Dillon a better chance of winning, and for that, I'd do anything.

When District 12 appears on-screen, I decide to listen to Caesar and Claudius. When Prim is called, they babble about how tragic it is, yet how exciting the Games will be. As Dillon is reaped, they briefly chat about how much young tributes there are this year, before steering the conversation back to Prim. Dillon sighs again and realises that he'll receive little to no sponsors any time soon. I tap his shoulder and whisper to him, "You'll prove 'em wrong. Just wait and see..." He nods, but I have a feeling he doesn't believe it. He really ought to, though; he's one of the best I've ever seen when it comes to throwing knives. I hear Caesar state that he'd sponsor Prim if he could. If he could? I ask myself. I didn't know Caesar couldn't sponsor...

Thirteen is a mysterious district; all of the tributes are so... blank. They never show any emotion; not even the ten 're usually well-built and in the past some have joined the Careers. They have two victors so far - Gwen and Arthur. The girl loses her mind when she's called. She screams for help, and her whole district glares at her. She weeps for the rest of the reaping. The male, Merlin, takes it upon himself to make sure the district is presented well. He's seventeen, and identical to all men in Thirteen. He walks on to the stage, and reluctantly shakes her hand

The recaps break for a few minutes, for everyone to freshen up. I use the time to ask an avox for a tray of fruit to pick at while we watch the rest of the recaps. I'm not disappointed with what I get.

District 14 is even smaller than 12, and, despite the great weather here, it's pouring rain there, and the streets are flooded. The girl tribute has a serious temper; Zoey, I think her name is. After she stomps onstage, she punches her District escort. Square in the face. I fail to stifle a laugh at the escort's reaction. When a Peacekeeper tries to detain her, she sneers at him. I sigh, realising she's ruined her chances of victory. After a minute, the male is called. A strong-looking man of 17. David. He looks like a strong contender, and he's pretty good-looking. He'd make a great victor.

In Fifteen, it's clear skies and girl isn't worth anyone's time. She collapses to the ground at hearing her name. Peacekeepers have to drag her from the 11 section, up the steps, and onto the stage. The boy, Borja, is cocky and idiotic. Anyone who has that much self-confidence won't win the Games. Not even the Careers act so self-centered. I can't stand him any longer, and I've known this 19 year-old for two minutes.

In District Sixteen the atmosphere is more tense than any other district. They're known for rebellious tributes in the arena. The girl, just fourteen, marches onstage, holding her head high. She shakes the escort's hand graciously and turns to face the crowd. The boy called, Aleksander, is completely opposite. He comes off as sullen and hostile, and simply glares at his fellow tribute. She looks hurt.

In District 17, it's a typical summer day. The escort doesn't waste any time, and gets straight to the reaping. She calls for a girl, age fifteen, called Aimée. She's a slim girl, with a cute smile. She'll have men all through the Capitol at her feet, if she plays her cards right. The boy, Pierre, is nineteen, with chestnut brown hair and baby blue eyes. He could possibly possess the minds of most of the Capitol women, but only if he's showed how. Good tributes from 17 this year. I have a strong feeling they'll ally.

District 18. The last Career District. I can't describe how strong my hatred for them is. Which makes me laugh even more than I would if it wasn't a Career District at their new escort. She's wearing a dress fashioned out of handguns, and her neon pink hair is tied up with what mean to look like knives. She looks truly ridiculous, even for a Capitolite. Cornelia even sniggers at her. She introduces herself and picks the male tribute. He doesn't even get to the steps up the stage before a boy calls to volunteer. His name is Lukas. The girl has the same story. Two strong tributes, both 21. The girl is Sofie. They smile deviously to the camera. I think they've got a plan, but I've no idea what it is.

District 19. You can find people of all kinds. All kinds, except strong contenders. As usual, the girl is pretty, but timid. She screams a name, but I cannot make it out. The boy, tall and thin, trembles, and tears roll down his cheeks silently. They shake hands, and the girl becomes a complete emotional wreck.

In 20, the escort blathers on about how exciting this year's Games will be, then calls the names. The girl, 20, is named Aliz. She's got a strong build. She could easily come off as a Career; from 18. The boy is just fifteen. He looks disappointed with the fact that he's going to the arena. He's not on the stage for long, though. A boy, Johann, volunteers. He's nineteen, and looks exactly like Aliz. It turns out that they're siblings. There are many audible gasps in the crowd, followed by applause. I groan, realising that they'll absorb a considerable amount of sponsor money.

Twenty-one slips past me. Two young kids are called up. The girl screams and screams, throughout the whole reaping, and the boy shuffles towards the stage as slow as possible. Honestly, they couldn't appeal to anyone.

District 22 has an over-optimistic obnoxiously loud escort. The girl, Karolina, is slim and tall. She's fourteen. She doesn't look strong per say, but her eyes are the key here. They've got the fire; the rebellious look that I had. The boy is of no use to anyone; a 10 year old bawling mess. He won't last fifteen minutes in the arena.

Twenty-three is a lot like 21. Two howling teenagers with no chance of survival whatsoever. They just cry. And cry. And cry. Until the screen switches to the next district.

In District 24, the escort looks bored. He must hate having a terrible district. He sighs before calling for a girl. She weeps while walking to the stage. The boy reaped is the polar opposite of his fellow tribute. His name is Cezar. He's 19, muscular with blue eyes and pitch black hair. He's not sore on the eyes, either. He'll receive steady sponsorship from the Capitol. He smiles at the camera, trying to look seductive

Twenty-five never has good tributes, which is why no-one's surprised when two measly, under-grown children walk up to the stage. They're just more cannons to come at the bloodbath.

Last but not least, District 26. The escort knows that people will be getting tired of reapings, so she gets straight to business. She calls for a girl named Melodi. She has blond curly hair and chocolate brown eyes. The boy is a puny eleven year-old. He scuttles up the steps and onto the stage. They shake hands, and the recaps are over.

Caesar and Claudius announce that the Capitol reapings will be held live within minutes. I ask the nearest avox for some strawberries, and wait for the terrible reapings to end. I'm given the strawberries, and wait for the last reaping to start, hoping it'll be over as quickly as possible. The Capitol emblem pops on-screen, and Caesar and Claudius are seated onstage, next to the President and the Head Gamemaker, Onyx Fyrehawk.

They don't bother showing the video, and get straight to the reaping. Claudius stands up and heads towards the four glass bowls. He explains that Snow, Caesar and himself reaping exempt from reapings, and so are the Gamemakers. After that, he puts his hand into the first bowl, mixes around the slips, and pulls one out. "Albus Xavier?" He calls. He'll definitely know him, what with being the man he is. A large, overweight man walks to stand with Claudius. His skin is dyed a shade of pastel blue, and his hair is shining, copper in colour. His face is botox-ridden, and he's disgusting. He seems excited about being called. Actually, genuinely excited. He's probably one of those Capitol Games fanatics. He'll die soon. Claudius moves to the next bowl. He winks to the audience, before picking another slip out. "Sabryna DeChardyn." He announces gravely. A tattooed woman bounces her way next to Albus. Her body is riddled with hideous tattoos. Her hair is bubblegum pink, and her breasts and buttocks are clearly heavily implanted. She has all the right curves in all the right places. Despite her efforts, she is vile.

Claudius makes a joke to lighten the mood, and they eat it up. He reaches for a slip in the third bowl, and pulls it out. "Maximus Hellfox." He hollers, with a hint of sadness in his tone. A boy of fifteen walks to his fellow tributes. He looks excited, but nervousness crosses his face randomly. Finally, Claudius gets to the last tribute. He reaches his hand inside the glass bowl, rummages around in the slips, and finally pulls one out. The whole Capitol gasps in synchronization when the name is called. We snigger, and I'm sure that most if not all people in the districts do the same.

The name Claudius called is Melissa Snow.

A/N #2: There you go! The President's great-granddaughter, heading to the arena. Next chapter will have prep teams and chariots! Please review to tell me what you think, or who else you would like Prim to ally with. Sorry for the crappy boring bits, but I needed them. Hope you liked it! Until next time...