Empress Nakashima- Queen of Hearts

I wake up to Dream Bishop breathing in my face. He snores quietly, peacefully, and I realize that today's the day I volunteer.

I sit up, stretching and looking around the training center. It's so large; I have no idea how Dream and I ended up sleeping so close to each other.

I stretch, brushing static-y, fine black hair away from my eyes. I get up to go to the bathroom to wash my face and brush my teeth.

Since the Academy here in District 1 got remodeled and updated, they started to have lock-ins the night before the reaping to celebrate the volunteers. The two who were chosen to volunteer can have whoever they want to sleep over to prepare for going away to the Capitol. Some, like Dream and I, spend the night getting stuff done by studying in the library and training.

Since the volunteers can invite whoever they want, every year is different. Sometimes they invite all the trainees. Sometimes they have a party. Sometimes they invite a mentor or a close friend. Some prefer to have no one at all.

This year, there were four of us. I invited my older sister Tiara. Though she has no interest in the Games, I need her to help me do my hair and make-up today. She has a real sense of fashion, and it's very important for the Capitol to like how I look.

Tiara just served as my motivation for training. She gave me food and water and made sure I was staying healthy and on time. She gave me scenarios and I gave the proper reaction to each one. She also helped me practice my smile for when I'm on the cameras.

Dream, the other volunteer, had his best friend Gleam. Gleam is a lot more social and likable than his volunteering counterpart, and he also took some time to train.

After brushing my teeth I walk back out to the gym and find the garment bag that has my dress in it. By the time I walk back out, Gleam and Tiara are awake, though Dream still lies on the floor, snoring. I went to bed before he did, so it's really no surprise that I'm up first.

Tiara gets up, still in her PJ's, to help me get ready. I step into my dress and sit obediently in front of a mirror as she puts up my hair into two neat buns.

"Dream!" Gleam says, shaking him, "It's time to get up! It's your volunteering day!" I glance over as Tiara puts the last pin in my hair. The male volunteer is soon up and shuffling to the bathroom while Gleam starts to get dressed.

Dream and I are both 18, as is the norm for District One tributes.

I envy Dream because he can sleep extra considering he doesn't have to worry about make-up. I sit still and Tiara does everything from the foundation to the mascara.

Soon Dream starts getting ready with Gleam's assistance and though I don't look over, it's hard to not hear their conversation in the empty Training center. As always, Dream does more listening than talking.

Soon I slip my feet into the high-heeled shoes and am ready for the doors to open, which they do at seven o' clock sharp. When the first trainees arrive, Gleam struggles with Dream's tie as they squabble at each other in hushed voices.

The reapings start at eight in the morning, but the Academy always opens early to have a banquet celebrating the volunteers. Soon the breakfast is brought in and everyone digs in hungrily, especially me. I don't talk to Dream, but I do talk to various people that come over to congratulate me.

Soon, my best friend Chime Prior approaches, all dressed up in his nice reaping clothes. He has two thirteen-year-olds on either side of him.

"Congratulations," he says, his blue eyes dancing with happiness.

"Thanks Chime." I put on a winning smile and try to eat without getting lipstick on the fruit that goes into my mouth. He sends the thirteen-year-olds to get some food. One of them looks very much like him, with the same messy, dark hair and tan skin. The other, a blond boy with glimmering blue eyes, probably isn't a Prior.

"You look beautiful," Chime says, blushing.

I smile a little bit. "Thanks."

"Sure thing." He winks. I smile but roll my eyes.

"So, what are you going to do with your life now that you're not volunteering?"

"I'm going to follow my dreams," he says, "And be a tattoo artist."

"Very interesting." I know he loves his art. I don't have the talent or the patience to learn to draw.

He nods, "Mom and Dad aren't gonna be happy with it, but… What can you do?" I shrug. Chime's little brother and his friend come back. Chime smiles and ruffles his brother's hair, to which the younger Prior protests that he could've spilled his plate, which is piled high with all kinds of food.

"If you eat so much you're going to put on some weight, little Bro," Chime teases.

"I'll just train it off!" the 13-year-old says cheerily, "Or I'll just be fat and happy." I laugh and so does Chime, rather loudly.

I glance over to the other side of the gym, where a flustered-looking Dream gives high-fives around to a group of kids.

Though Dream has been ranked first for at least a half a year now, I really never imagined him volunteering. Sure, he's really tall: probably six feet or around there: and he has scary accuracy with anything you can throw, but I never saw him fitting the role as a tribute. I just don't think he's got the personality to get sponsors and get people to like him. Not to mention that he's from one of the poorer neighborhoods…

But, hey, I shouldn't count him out quite yet. Last night he trained really well.

Chime disappears to congratulate him and shake his hand, so I talk to some of the other teens around before the Academy is silenced for our Head Trainer to speak.

"Today, on this 36th annual reaping day, two courageous young adults have taken the challenge to travel away from home and face the Hunger Games. These two teenagers have taken initiative, set goals, and exceeded all expectations for what a District One citizen should be. Today, we honor them for their determination and their courage." The trainees burst out into applause and shouting. "Empress, Dream, congratulations. We all wish you the very best of luck in your journey, and may the best man or woman win." The Head Trainer holds our hands up high and the others applaud some more.

"Now, everyone will meet at the square at eight o'clock for the reapings!"

The people file out of the Training Center.

"Smile pretty," I say to Dream, before walking to the Square with Chime, the two boys following.

"You're going to win," he says.

I smile, "Thanks."

The blonde boy pipes up, "I'm going to volunteer someday!" His eyes sparkle with determination.

"Are you?" I ask, amused.

"Yeah! I'm going to train better than everyone! And I want a pretty lady to be my mentor so you have to win!"

I smile and nod, "Of course." He giggles and runs off to talk to some of his other friends, Chime's brother following.

"Had to babysit," Chime says, as they take blood from his finger.

"I can tell," I muse, getting the blood pricked from mine.

We all take our places for the reapings, and soon our escort Rappucini takes the stage, beaming. He's a pretty young guy with a lot of energy.

"How are you doing, District One!?" the crowd applauds and he laughs happily. My heart flutters nervously all throughout the video. This is my big moment, and I feel so ready for it to happen. The video ends. "Ladies first, now!" Rappucini says, walking over to the bowl and scanning the 18-year-olds with his eyes.

I stand up taller, wanting to make a good first impression.

He picks a name and reads it off clearly into the microphone. "Sephora Davison!" A smiling girl with her blonde hair tied up neatly in a bun starts the walk to the stage and my heart flies with happiness as I shout, "I volunteer!"

~.~.~.

Pontifex Gallivan- King of Spades

I wake up to noisemakers and confetti cannons.

"JANUARY! WAKE UP!" giggles and laughter come from the gym of the Training Center. "It's your big day, girl!"

When I sit up, a page of an open book sticking to my face. I realize I must've face-planted while I was studying last night. The last thought I remember having was how fucking annoying January and her friends are.

I know I shouldn't think those things, but as someone that's never seen an ounce of friendship in his life, sometimes I get bitter. Besides, I get bitter when I'm up late. And I'm also not a fan of the Denali family, though that's not January's fault. In fact, it's more closely linked to her brother Magnus.

My name is Pontifex Gallivan, I'm 18 years old and from District 2. I was chosen to volunteer alongside January Denali, a well-intentioned girl that often has her head in the clouds.

I glance down at the page I face-planted on and notice it's all about the 34th Games, in which January's older brother Magnus died. I shut the book with a huff as January and her friends chatter loudly and excitedly. January invited her friend-group to be locked in with her, while I had no one.

The only person that talks to me anymore is my Dad, and that's usually just to tell me I'm a piece of shit son. I don't like to talk to people and they don't like to talk to me either. I'm just that weird kid with the dead Mom and a ton of mysterious injuries (not that anyone cares where I got them from. Not that I'd tell them if they did).

I had two older brothers, identical twins named Atlas and Pryderi. Pry didn't let Dad get to him and somehow kept a constant cool head, something that I could never do. I wouldn't have half the injuries I have if I didn't yell back and fight back. Atlas was like me; determined to volunteer and hot-headed. Well, when Magnus Denali beat him out for the position, it wasn't pretty. Dad got livid with both of them. Pryderi packed his bags and moved out, and hasn't said a word to me since. Atlas didn't cope as well and killed himself right there, in front of Dad and me, his little brother. I still haven't forgiven him for that, nor have I forgiven Pryderi.

I get up and walk past the group of January's friends, staring at my feet, just like I always do. I hate going to school. Training is the only place I can be completely at peace, because I don't have to talk to anyone and I don't have to deal with anyone.

I slip into the bathroom and wash my face, brushing my teeth and praying that today goes well.

When I exit the bathroom and try to sneak across the gym, January waves at me. "Good morning Pontifex! Congratulations, are you excited!?"

I shrug a little bit.

"Good job Pontifex!" some of her friends add.

January flashes me a good-willed smile and wraps an arm around my shoulders. "Isn't this exciting!?"

"I guess," I mumble, staring at my feet and sighing a little bit. I don't usually mind other people touching me, I'm used to it, it's just the whole talking thing that throws me for a loop.

"Best of luck," she says. I know her friends feel obliged to be nice to me because she's nice to me.

I feel a hand on my back and look up to see a tall, smiling boy. "Congrats, man. Live it up out there, alright?" It's January's friend Sandor Fairbanks. I nod a bit and quickly escape to my garment bag of clothes, body temperature rising with a red blush on my cheeks.

I change into my nice suit and tie, trying to drone out January and her friends' chatter and laughter. Every once in a while I feel eyes on me, but when I look up she looks away. I huff and finish buttoning the suit-jacket. Then I get to work with the foundation I stole from January's bag, dabbing some around the bruises on my neck and around my black eye. I would just die right here if anyone saw me with this stuff, especially January and her friends.

I wasn't going to, but Head Trainer Vandoren said that nobody will want to look at a boy with bruises so I take his advice.

I screw on the lid, just as I hear, "Where's your foundation?!" from the other side of the room.

"That's odd," says January, "I know I packed it."

"I'll look again."

I take a deep breath to scatter my nerves before I walk over.

"Uh, January?"

She looks up and flashes me another kind smile. "Hey Pontifex. What's up?"

I hold the bottle out to her. "You left this on the counter."

She hesitates before taking it from my hand. Her features fall a bit, but she still smiles.

"Of… Of course. How silly of me." She laughs a little bit. "Thank you, we were looking for this." She reaches over and rubs it into my cheek. I try to fend off the embarrassed flushing of my cheeks but it's hard to do so. I walk away to start putting gel on my hair to get it to sit up right.

Soon, the door opens and a bunch of people come in to train and eat and have fun. A lot of them file over to January, who's loud laughter I can hear from across the room.

I have no idea how someone could possibly be so carefree.

A couple people come over to me to shake my hand and congratulate me. I keep a smile on and accept their kind words, reassuring myself with the fact that January is right in the spotlight with me and I'm not alone.

"Hey!"

I look over to see some orphans run over, laughing.

"Hi!"

"Uh…"

"I'm Fabian. Remember, you taught me how to throw spears?"

"Oh. Yeah." I smile a little bit.

"Congratulations!" he says, hugging me.

"Oh, uh, thanks." I laugh and scratch the back of my neck.

"I know you can do it. You're so good at training!"

I pat his head awkwardly. "Thanks."

"You don't have to thank me for stating facts!" he giggles. "C'mon, Nickolai, let's get some food!"

"Good luck," the younger boy says with a smile before he's dragged off toward the banquet tables.

.

My heart flies during the reaping.

Our escort, Pierrepont, has a very cocky posture, and he personifies District 2 pretty well, I'd say. The video plays and I dunno if it's just me but damn, that seems to take forever.

I tap my fingers against my legs in anticipation, and I feel eyes on my constantly. I wonder what my Dad's thinking right now…

The video fades out and the people chat excitedly. The boys surrounding me all chatter in hushed breaths excitedly.

"Our female tribute… Meli-"

"I VOLUNTEER!" A little soon for my liking, but hey, she stepped up. She looks slightly flustered but soon she walks up the steps, a happy little skip in her step. Her friends all over the crowd cheer loudly for her.

"Wow! Such excitement! What's your name, dear?" he asks, interested.

She smiles, playfulness written all over her face, "Janie Denali!"

"Oh, yes, spectacular!" The crowd cheers and applauds and shouts out.

"And, our male…" he reaches in and selects a name.

"Richard Nelson!" A bunch of the eighteen-year-olds cheer as he starts to walk to the stage. I brace myself.

"I volunteer!" I push through the people in my way just as someone else shouts the same thing. Fuck. I have to get up to that stage first. He tackles me and I pull my fist back and slam it right into his face, hearing a crack under my knuckles. His grip loosens and I shove him backwards by the shoulders, surprised by how easy that fight was as I mount the steps to the stage. It's certainly not the reaction January got, and my knuckles are bleeding and complaining.

"Er, uh, yes, what's your name?" I shove my hands in my pockets insecurely, preparing for the two seconds that the attention is entirely on me. "Pontifex Gallivan." I say it loud and clear for everyone to hear.

"Yes, wonderful! District 2, your tributes, Janie Denali and Pontifex Gallivan!"

~.~.~.

Giovanni "Gio" Piccozzi, Joker

"Gio! Gio!" I wake up to being shaken. I look around sleepily. "Hm?"

"Wake up!" Abrielle says. "It's reaping day and you promised you'd do something fun with me today!"

I sit up and realize just then that it's drizzling. It must've been raining for a while because my hair is wet and plastered to my forehead.

My family is homeless and we live in the slums. We're the people that beg everyone to spare a cent, but in such trying times who would even dream of it? Everyone is entitled to themselves, to their own family, and I understand that. Abrielle doesn't, though. She's 15, and when I was 15 I was angry at the people that walked by without even looking at us. Now that I'm 17, I realize how harsh life and that other people have lives that don't involve us.

I rub my eyes and nod a bit. "Oh, yeah…" My stomach turns nervously at the thought of reaping day.

"Get up! Get up get up get up!"

I sit up. "Where are Mom and Dad?"

"Where are they always?"

I sigh. "Working." They try to bring in money, but it always goes away just like this. Times are hard, so a lot of hard work for long hours doesn't bring in enough money to feed a family of four with change to spare. I work in the days but not through the nights like they do. It must be a miserable life.

I get up and see her already changed into her nice clothes. They're really only worn once a year, so they're still in pretty good shape. Other than that I have two outfits, both of which have been reduced to shabby rags with patches. I hate it, and I hate having one knee patched and the other still denim, it just feels too weird for me.

I've never been able to go to a good doctor, but everyone around me says that I definitely have OCD. I'm a naturally fidgety and panicky person, especially when something is uneven. I hate math with decimal answers and can't stand small blankets. Sometimes I just panic for no reason other than something isn't clean.

"Let's play a game, Gio!" squeals Abrielle.

"Alright. What do you want to play?"

She pulls a baseball out of her pocket. "I got this the other day from Colby."

"That was nice of him."

She giggles, "Yeah!"

She tosses it to me and I catch it.

One. I try to push the counter out of my thoughts, trying to think of songs or any thoughts but numbers. I know that I'm going to panic if I don't get a multiple of ten.

"Gio!" I jump, snapping out of my thoughts. She waves her arms, smiling. "Throw it back."

"R-Right. Sorry." I toss the ball back. Two.

She grins and tosses it to me, as I try to think desperately of anything else than counting the number of times we throw and catch.

Abrielle giggles and chatters to me excitedly, and though I try to stay completely involved in this conversation, my mind is still counting, and I know it in the very depths of my heart, and it scares me but I try to keep a level head.

She throws, I catch. Thirty-seven.

Then she puts the ball in her tiny, ragged satchel. "We have to get to the reapings!"

My sister doesn't have to have a worry in the world. She isn't weird like I am. I comb my hair with my fingers, though it's still wet and doesn't want to cooperate. Oh well, the rain is the homeless family's shower after all.

She waves a hand in front of my face and I snap out of my frozen daze.

"You okay Gio?" she blinks, confused, brushing some stringy, dark hair out of her eyes.

"Uh, yeah, fine."

She frowns, concerned. "What?"

Thirty-seven. Thirty-seven. Thirty-seven. The number makes me angry. My breathing picks up. I need it to be forty.

"W-We can sp-spare some time, can't we!?"

She blinks big, concerned eyes that are brown, like mine. "Uh, alright." She doesn't understand my panicking, but she tries to help me whenever she can. She takes out the ball again and throws it to me. Thirty-eight. I toss it back. Thirty-nine. She tosses it to me. Forty. I breathe a sigh of relief. I walk over and place the ball back in her hands. "C'mon. Let's go to the reaping."

I hold my sister's hand and we walk to the town square together. Abrielle waves hello to her various friends and schoolmates as we walk. As for me, I'm not very good at making friends. Nobody wants to talk to the boy that frequently has panic attacks in school. But, even though my only friend is 21 now and too busy working to spend any time with me, I'm glad that at least my sister can make friends.

A young-looking blonde girl waves to her just as I get my finger pricked, and she skips over as Abrielle gets hers. I wouldn't place her as being ready for reapings, but they talk about school like they're the same age, so I guess she must be.

"Bye Gio!" she says, hugging me. I hug back and kiss her head, "I'll talk to you later." She turns to her friend, "C'mon Juli!" they skip off to the fifteen section together. I shake it off. I know for sure what it's like to look younger than your age. I'm 17 and so skinny and young-looking that people have asked me about being 13. I don't think I look quite as young as thirteen, so it's probably my jittery and panicky nature that throws people off.

I stand with the other 17-year-old boys as our escort Ichabod steps up on the stage. He shows us the video and my stomach tightens. What if Abriella is reaped? What if I am?

If I were reaped, I may have a chance. I could eat up and get some nutrients, try to survive and bulk up in training, get an ally that balances me out, and win the Games. I could win a great life and we'd never have to worry again. Even though I'd much rather quietly starve to death than die in front of the whole nation.

The girl's name is picked. "Julianna Bluebird!" I breathe a small sigh of relief that at least it's not my sister. The girl shuffles up onto the stage slowly, and I recognize her as the girl Abriella was talking with earlier. I sigh quietly. That could've just as easily been Abriella, considering I didn't let her take tesserae.

She shuffles up to the stage, a frown set and tears springing to her fiery eyes.

He walks over to the other bowl of names to pick the boy. I hold my breath, picking at a scab on my arm.

"Giovanni Piccozzi!"

I sigh sadly, feeling bad for the kid and waiting for someone to walk up there. Suddenly, someone behind me shoves me forward and I realize that my name is Giovanni Piccozzi. I start walking to the stage.

Someone in the Eighteens mutters, "Tessera Boy," and everyone around him snickers. My mouth turns down into an angry scowl even though I panic on the inside. Tears try to come and I just try to fend them off. I walk up two steps and suddenly lose my footing and fall on the last one, causing the audience to burst into laughing.

I get up, staring at my feet, and walk to the stage to join Julianna.

Ichabod tries not to laugh, though soon he lets it out, causing the tears to come to my eyes.

"District-District Three!" he says through laughter, "Your tributes!"

Everyone laughs and some people clap and shout, "Way to go!" as I shake Julianna's hand, trying to keep a firm confident grip and wavering.

I take a deep breath and practically run to the Justice Building before the sobs can tear out of my throat.

A/N: Thanks to everyone who submitted tributes! The boys from District 7 and District 9 are open again, so it'd be really helpful if people would submit. If I do not get submissions by the 23rd of March, I will officially open up submitting to two per person (though at LEAST one will have to be a bloodbath.)

Remember, you're sponsors, too, and can get points by reviewing/answering the chapter question, favoriting, and following. I'm not posting scores quite yet because I'm not sure how much it will be for each.

Chapter Question: So far, which was your favorite POV?