Grover was standing next to the dividing rope between the girls' and boys' 18-year-old sections. He held the hand of his girlfriend, Juniper Bushwald. Just being in proximity with her made Grover feel better. Juniper had a kind of calming aura, one that made those around her feel comfortable. Charisma, maybe, was another name for it, but Grover thought that it was more toned down than that, as if someone had mixed charisma and hot chocolate in a bottle and let Juniper drink it.

Juniper's hand was shaking as the escort Neleus took a paper out of the girls' ball. Grover prayed silently to whatever force that there was that Juniper wouldn't be picked. Juniper was his world, and beyond that, she was one of the kindest people in District 7. She didn't deserve being condemned to death.

"Calypso Aterra!"

Juniper turned her head and made eye contact with Grover. Calypso was known around the district for both her good looks and the fact that she was an apothecary. A few hours every day, she worked in the lumberyards, but for the rest of her time, she gave out medical help to anyone who needed it, whether they were sick or hurt by the axes and equally dangerous machines. Grover could read the question in Juniper's eyes, should she volunteer? Calypso was needed around the district. Juniper wasn't. But as selfish as it was, Grover silently pled for Juniper to preserve her own life.

Calypso was on the stage, thinly smiling out at the silent crowd. "No volunteers?" Neleus asked. "Well, then. My dear, how do you feel about competing in the Hunger Games?"

Calypso shrugged.

"Well, let's move on to the boys!" Neleus shouted enthusiastically.

Grover didn't have time to consider whether he should volunteer so that he could protect Calypso, because the name that Neleus read out was his.

Juniper's hand in his went slack, and her eyes were wide. She opened her mouth in a silent scream, but her voice seemed to be completely gone. Grover gave her hand a final squeeze before making his way up to the stage.

About halfway there, Juniper began screaming. "No! NO! Someone volunteer! Someone help him!"

(Grover realized that this was his punishment for refusing to let Juniper save Calypso—him dead and her broken.)

"That your sister screaming?" Neleus asked when Grover had mounted the stage.

"My girlfriend," he said, his mouth dry.

The course of action for him was becoming clearer. He had to protect Calypso and let her come home, for the good of the whole district. Things had tradeoffs—Juniper's life for his, Calypso's life for his.

The good of the whole district versus the simple engagement ring at home under his bed, the ring that would never rest on Juniper's finger.

XXXXX

"Piper Mclean!"

Ethan was surprised. Piper was the daughter of a previous Victor, Tristan Mclean, and he hadn't thought that she would be Reaped. Her father on the stage looked surprised, horrified. Ethan took a moment to feel some happiness at the fact that one of the elite of District 8 was feeling the same pain that the rabble below felt every year when one of their own was plucked into the jaws of death. And still, the rich Piper had a better chance of winning. Her parenthood would surely garner lots of sponsors, and her father would favorite her over whatever other poor tribute happened to be Reaped.

"Ethan Nakamura!"

Shit.

That was him, wasn't it?

Ethan chuckled sardonically. This had always been coming, hadn't it? He needed tesserae, and the mayor had never liked him. Could the mayor have rigged the Reaping so that a member of Ethan's notorious gang, the Kronos, got Reaped? Ethan took a moment before heading to the stage to see if anyone would volunteer for him. Luke, perhaps, or Atlas, maybe Alabaster? But all of his supposedly loyal gangmates refused to volunteer.

That was fine. He hadn't expected them to anyway.

Making no secret of his glare, Ethan stalked up to the stage. He leveled his angry gaze at Piper, taking some pleasure at her flinch.

So what if he wasn't rich or trained? He knew what he needed to do to win, and had no problems with killing. He might not survive, but he would fight to the end. And he would make sure to kill his stupid, rich, district mate.

XXXXX

"If I get Reaped, will you volunteer for me?" Austin asked.

Will considered this. He liked to believe that he would have, but then again, was there truly any such thing as a good person? What made a good person, anyway? Would he only be considered someone "Good" if he volunteered? If that was true, then he was automatically a bad person since he hadn't volunteered in any of the previous years that he was Reaping age. Will opted on giving his twin brother a shrug.

Austin nodded. "Yeah. Don't."

"Let's just get this over with," Will replied. "We have the rest of the day off afterwards."

"Yeah. We can finally teach Kayla how to play guitar."

The twins smiled at each other. Their younger sister, Kayla, had been begging them to teach her how to play guitar for months. Their family was blessed in that they had scrounged up enough money to buy the old thing, and Austin and Will had used all of their free time figuring out how to play it. Friends and family often came over in the evenings or on Reaping days to listen to them play. Will's family wasn't rich by any standards, but they led a happy life with their music.

"Lou Ellen Lerner!"

No! Will knew Lou Ellen, and she was a nice girl. They weren't close, but Will considered her a good friend. She was kind and funny and used an old card deck for magic tricks. Will didn't want her to die.

Austin, too, looked upset. He and Lou had gone out once. While they didn't hold any romantic feelings for each other anymore, they were close, and Will could tell that Austin felt horrible.

"You must be Lou Ellen. What a pretty name!" the escort, Hattie, said. "Is there anything you'd like to say to your lovely friends and family?"

Lou looked at the sea of faces for a few moments. What was she thinking? Will wondered. Was she afraid? Excited? Or was she really, as she looked, completely nonchalant?

"The hand is quicker than the eye," Lou said.

A few beats of silence. Then, Austin started clapping. "Yeah, Lou!" he shouted. "You got this!"

The clapping caught on, and soon, the entire District 9 was cheering on their girl. "LOU! LOU! LOU!"

"Wonderful!" Hattie exclaimed. "You know, they say things about the districts being horrible, but you really are nice people!" She picked out another slip of paper. "And now, for our boy! WILL SOLACE!"

Austin went silent. Will's eyes widened, and he stared in horror at his brother.

XXXXX

"FRANK ZHANG!"

The square in 10 was completely silent. Frank felt sick. This was his second-to-last Reaping year. He had almost been safe. There was so much that he had wanted to do with his life afterwards! Find his father, own his own ranch, maybe confess his feelings to Hazel…now, none of that would ever happen!

No one said the insane words that would have meant that his life wouldn't be over. Frank made his way up to the stage. He could feel gazes burning into his back, and imagined Grandmother glaring up at him. 'Do you want to cry, Fai?' she would say. 'I should hope that you don't. You are already enough of a disgrace to our family.'

Frank almost smiled at the idea. Even now, knowing that her grandson might die, Grandmother would stay composed and cold. She wouldn't let any little things like, you know, death, get in the way of insulting her grandson. Grandmother wasn't that weak.

Frank wasn't weak, either. Once on the stage, he refused to look in Grandmother's direction. Instead, his eyes sought out Hazel's. He found her towards the edge of the 15-year-olds, somewhat isolated. Frank didn't understand why the teens, and really all the people in District 10, were so unaccepting of Hazel, just because her mother was eccentric. Then again, they disliked him just because Grandmother was too strong-willed and hotheaded for them.

Hazel looked like she was fighting back tears. Frank would have wished her strength for the coming weeks, but he was too busy wishing and praying that she wouldn't be picked.

"HAZEL LEVESQUE!"

Nononononono

Hazel couldn't come into the Games with him!

Because for every dream Frank had, Hazel had one to match. She wanted to find a cure for her mother and find her father. She wanted to live happily on her own ranch with her horse Arion and Frank beside her. She wanted to learn about art.

Furthermore, Frank couldn't go in with Hazel. They were friends. Frank couldn't imagine having her die, knowing that they were miles away from each other. Or worse, what if they had to kill each other? Frank couldn't do that. He just couldn't.

But somehow, Hazel didn't look as horrified as he felt. In fact, she looked okay. Well, she always looked more than okay, but now, she didn't look scared.

In fact, she looked like she had a plan.

XXXXX

With 28 tesserae and a stolen wallet burning in his pocket, Connor Stoll could have been having a better day. Sure, other people had much more tesserae and hadn't stole anything, but Connor still had a good chance of being picked. And then there was the matter that someone else in the square was now missing their wallet, and might actively be looking for the thief that took it.

"Hello, District 11!" Pomona said. "Is everyone ready for this year's Hunger Games?"

Connor thought that Pomona was pretty pathetic. What did she expect, anyway? Wild cheers like they might get in the Capitol? This was a district, genius.

"Oh, no," Travis muttered.

Connor looked at his older brother questioningly. Travis gestured at an angry-looking man in the adults area in the back of the square.

"How do you know he wants us?" Connor asked.

"I don't," Travis replied. "I just have a feeling."

"You and your famous feelings."

"I'm sure that we'll have two wonderful tributes!" Pomona continued.

"THERE!"

"Shit!" Travis cursed. The man was pointing at them.

"Are you sure that's the guy we stole from?" Connor asked.

"Yes!"

"Are you really sure?"

"Yes!"

"Are you absolutely sure?"

"Yes, Connor!"

"Well then. We're in deep trouble."

"Your boy today is Connor Stoll!"

Connor and Travis stared at each other. "Did she just…" Connor asked.

"Yeah."

"Travis…"

Connor wasn't sure what he was going to say. Volunteer for me? Charge the Peacekeepers and help me escape? Despite Travis being his protective older brother, there was nothing that he could do in this case.

"Connor, get up there," Travis demanded. "Go!"

Why was Travis doing this? Was he really willing to sacrifice his own brother for his own safety? Sure, Connor had been the one who had stolen from this particular man, but that didn't mean that Travis had to push him into going up there! Why wouldn't he volunteer?

Connor hurried up to the stage. The angry man, at least, wouldn't be very happy. "I'm Connor Stoll," he told Pomona.

"That's great, Connor! How are you—"

"Yeah, yeah," Connor said. "Let's get on with it, okay?"

Pomona looked surprised. "Yeah, um…sure! But we still have to ask for volunteers…"

"No point," Connor said dully. It came to him that he might have been in shock. That explained the numb feeling.

Pomona continued with her ceremony. "Let's see…Miranda Gardner!"

Miranda was young, black-haired, kind of good looking. She shakily made her way up to the stage. "Nice to meet you, Miranda! I'm sure that you're excited to be competing, but don't get your hopes up yet. Any volunteers?"

"I volunteer!"

Blood buzzed in Connor's ears. This girl right here, she had someone who cared about her enough to volunteer. And Connor's own brother, his protector, the person he had put all of his faith in, he refused to help! This was what was wrong with the world.

An angry-looking girl stepped onto the stage. Her hair was lighter than Miranda's, but from what Connor could tell, their eyes were both green. Sisters, maybe? If that was the case, then they had a much better relationship than he and his brother shared.

"Katie Gardner," she barked. She flicked her head toward the audience. "Miranda, get down."

"Katie—" Miranda started.

"No. Get down."

Miranda left the stage. Smart, Connor wouldn't have wanted to mess with that girl.

Katie glared at him as she thrust her hand out. "Shake," she ordered.

Connor took her hand.

XXXXX

"Phoebe Tanner!"

Phoebe made her way to the stage. Nico vaguely recognized the face. She was one of his sister Bianca's friends. He hadn't had contact with her in years. Now she was going off to her death.

"Any volunteers?" The escort Persephone asked.

"I volunteer!"

Nico recognized the girl who volunteered—her haughty expression, her dark hair, her pale skin. He recognized her and felt fury because this was the girl who had killed his sister.

Bianca would have been alive today if it weren't for this girl walking up to the stage like she was a survivor, like she didn't need to worry about death, like she hadn't a care in the world.

This girl was the reason that his entire life had been upended and destroyed.

Nico knew what he had to do.

Before Persephone even read off the name of the male tribute, Nico took the chance. "I volunteer!"

Nico strode towards the stage. "I'm Nico di Angelo."

Maybe he wasn't going to win. But it would all be worth it just to have a chance to kill the girl in front of him.

Zoe Nightshade.