Author's Note

I do not own The Hunger Games.

Sorcha Summerfield, 17

Beads of water trickled down Sorcha's back as she pulled herself from the pool.

"Fifteen seconds. Almost your record." Treasa held the digital stopwatch up.

"Almost," Sorcha muttered, snatching her towel to dry herself off. On the poolside table, her comm tablet dinged with a new message. Sorcha reached for it and then stopped as water dripped from her hand. "Who's that?"

Treasa stepped over to tap at the tablet. "Artemis Gilmore. She says, quote, 'they're competing in The Game at The Bluewatch Centre if you want to put your proof where your big fucking mouth is."

"Ugh. Pass. I've got nothing to prove to her." Sorcha wrapped her towel around herself. "Besides, I'm meeting Ebony and Lullaby this afternoon. We're going to play lacrosse in the park."

"Oh, can I come?"

"Of course! Gives us one more to play."

She showered and changed into sports gear, this one yellow to match her hair, before headed out to the dark. They were there early, and Treasa pulled up several recordings of friends playing The Game to pass the time.

"I could do better than that," Sorcha muttered as a young girl with bronze hair slipped under the surface of the water and never came back up again.

Treasa giggled. "I thought you weren't interested?"

"In competing with Artemis Gilmore." Sorcha frowned at the current fight between two boys. "I could win this thing without a problem."

"You think?"

"If the District scum do it, how hard can it possibly be?"

Emeria Delilah Echavoque, 15

Her first place pin remained proudly on her collar throughout the week, and several of her classmates commented to congratulate her. Emeria only smiled and thanked them. First place at last certainly felt like an achievement, but she didn't want to brag.

She had a list of rough ideas of what to do with each arena she might enter, though there were some, like the Fiftieth and the Seventy Seventh, that she doubted they'd run. Along with things like the First and Second, because those were boring arenas. Still, she kept plans and maps of the arenas, because if they came up, she was going to be the one to win.

Emeria was fidgeting with her first place pin again that afternoon, as she waited for Silverie to arrive at their usual meeting place, when a smaller girl in an archaic black dress caught her eye. She was hard to miss, once seen.

"There something you need?" she snapped.

The girl gave her a crooked smile. "No. I was just…"

"Just what?"

"Looking."

A boy appeared behind her and caught her arm. "Why do you always do this?"

"I haven't done anything!"

"I'm sorry, what was she planning?" Emeria demanded.

The boy smiled. "My sister reads fortunes."

"And what's my fortune then?"

"Purple water," said the girl.

"What?"

"That's your fate. Purple water."

"What is… purple water? And what do you mean my fate; I thought you told fortunes?"

"What's going on?" Silverie's voice called.

Emeria spun to face her. "This girl was just–" She brandished a hand at the girl – or where she had been. Both she and the boy were now gone.

"Never mind. It doesn't matter. How was your day?"

Silverie grinned. "Great! I got the new Radioactive game, I thought we could start it together?"

Emeria linked her arm through theirs. "Sure. Sounds wonderful."

Iridescence Sterling, 17

Apollo Gilmore wasn't quite good to his word, but he did manage to take out Iridescence in the bloodbath of the next two Games they entered together. And Luminescence in the second. Damn menaces. They thought they were so tough.

Iridescence combed the knots from her hair and twisted it into tight braids.

"Can I get my hair done to look like yours?" Phoenix asked from the doorway of her room.

Iridescence glanced back at her. "Sure, why not?" She shrugged. "Might take a few goes to match the shade though. And you'll need contacts if you want to fix your eyes."

Phoenix raised a hand to her eyes. "What's wrong with my eyes?"

"They don't match."

"Do they need to match?"

"Isn't that the aim? To look like the rest of us?"

"Kinda. Charity Redbridge says I'm an ugly little rat. You and Luminescence and Radiance got all the prettiness."

Iridescence frowned. "Who is this girl and how do I find her?"

Charity Redbridge wasn't all that, a prissy high class girl with vivid cerulean hair and a matching dress. Phoenix lingered behind Iridescence, muttering something about unnecessary actions.

"Hear you've been badmouthing my sister," she said, looking down at the smaller girl.

Charity stuck her tongue out. "Has she really sent her attack dog in to insult me?"

Iridescence flashed her teeth. "You're going to have to try a little harder if you want to insult me. I've heard worse than that."

It was a short conversation. Iridescence had dealt with worse than a thirteen year old girl. They left her with her jewellery and walked to the salon down the street.

"She wants her hair to match mine," Iridescence said, but Phoenix seemed to have been caught by something else. She pointed it out.

"Actually… Could I have that instead?"

Marcellina Arnoult, 16

"So I'll see you at Tremaine's tomorrow, yeah?" Calpurnia said.

Marcellina giggled, watching the buildings pass by the car window. "Of course! Wouldn't miss it!"

Everyone was going to be there, after all. She'd look like she was losing touch if she skipped.

"Perfect! See you then! Buh bye!"

"Bye!"

They still chatted for a moment longer before finally letting the call drop. Marcellina swiped off the call on her comm phone and slipped it into her pocket.

"Plans for tomorrow?" asked her father.

"We're having lunch and going shopping. Our stuff is all spring styles."

He smiled. "Well, let me know if you need anything."

"I might need some more credits. I'm not sure I've got enough."

"I'll transfer some to your account." He pulled into an empty space and turned off the engine. "Come on. We got roasted pork for supper."

"Ooh, I love roasted pork!"

"I know."

As her father stepped from the car, a young boy appeared from somewhere, glancing behind himself as though uncertain, before approaching her father.

"Can I help you?" Father asked.

The boy held up a slip of paper. "This is for you."

Father took it, and the boy hurried off before anything else could be said. Marcellina frowned as she climbed from the car. "Who was that?"

Her father unfolded the paper and studied it for a moment before stuffing it into a pocket. "A very bad prankster." He led her back towards their building. "You're not interested in playing The Game, are you?"

"Not really." Marcellina shrugged. "Calpurnia's suggested it, so we can stick it to Lysandra, but I don't think she's serious."

"I didn't think so. It doesn't matter then. Come on, before our food gets cold."

Author's Note

Sorcha Summerfield was created by MoonlightSalsa!

Emeria Delilah Echavoque was created by WritingArtGenius!

Iridescence Sterling was created by me!

Marcellina Arnoult was created by Victoria the Bipolar Tribute