Fair warning, things get a bit ridiculous, but in my opinion, it works. You'll know it when you see it.

It all started with my grandfather, Quintin Reeves.

He was the oldest of three children. His aging parents could barely afford to feed all of them, especially after his father had lost his arm in an accident. Quintin loved his family more than anything. He was determined to make sure his little siblings had food and his parents had medical care, even if he went without. As soon as tesserae was introduced around the Fourteenth Hunger Games, he took enough for everyone. His name was in the bowl forty-five times the year he was reaped.

Most people would despair, especially those in Quintin's position, but Quintin was unfazed. He had his eyes on the prize money. He had seen the lives of luxury that other victors were leading and he wanted the same for his family. He wanted to ensure they never starved again.

The odds were very much in Quintin's favor. He worked at a gristmill. Having to haul around bags of flour had made him incredibly strong. He played baseball at school and was the best hitter on the team. In any other year, his victory would have been easy, but it wasn't every other year.

The wealthier districts had recently begun training tributes. District Two already had its first success story with Lira Sov the year prior, and the Capitol was beginning to take notice of the Games, thanks to the then-Head Gamemaker. In particular, they had taken notice of the handsome boy from District One, Corvus Euclase. He had a few years of training under his belt and he was incredibly charismatic. The Capitol loved him, and people were lining up to sponsor him.

Both he and my grandfather dominated the forest arena with their sword and baseball bat. Still, everyone was so obsessed with Corvus, that Quintin faded into the background with everyone else. He only got one sponsor gift, a fruit salad, but that was all he needed.

Quintin enjoyed botany. He enjoyed reading about it in his spare time, and because of this, he knew a great deal about plants…and which ones to stay away from. When it was just Corvus and Quintin left, Quintin knew he had to act quickly, in case the Capitol sent mutts after him, a blatant rig but one the Gamemakers could get away from if it meant Corvus winning. He tracked the boy from Two down using the trees to hide in. Then, he slipped poisonous berries into his gift and dropped it near Corvus while he was resting after a long search. At the time, sponsor gifts didn't chime the way they do now. There was no way to know if the capsule had been tampered with. When the parachute landed gently nearby, Corvus didn't question the "gift" and dug into the meal. He was dead a minute later. Quintin was victorious, and the Capitol was angry.

Everyone in the Capitol was distraught that the favorite to win, did not in fact, win, and instead died in an anti-climactic fashion. The powers that be were furious that a boy had managed to use the gift system to his advantage. The Head Gamemaker didn't consider the possibility that a tribute would weaponize what was supposed to be the Capitol's favor, and she was left humiliated and her popularity dropped.

Quintin returned to District Nine and immediately moved his family into Victor's Village. For a while, things were good. The family was no longer in danger of starving or dying of illness. Quintin had finally gotten them the security he always wanted them to have.

I just wish that's where the story ended...

Less than one year later, his parents were mugged and murdered while they were on an evening walk, leaving a devastated Quintin to look after his two siblings. My grandfather was no fool. He had a feeling the Capitol wasn't happy with what he did. Even after the mugger was caught and executed, he couldn't help but wonder if there was something else at play. He thought that would be the end of it. His parents were dead, but he didn't think they'd go after his siblings too, until his little sister, Stalka, was reaped as soon as she was of age, two years later. She died in the bloodbath.

Ten years after Quintin won, his youngest brother, Amaran, was reaped as well. He died on the fourth day to a pack of mutts.

Rumors of a curse began to circulate after his wife died giving birth to his second child. Quintin knew full well that the Capitol was manufacturing said curse. I'm sure a lot of people did too, but no one dared say it out loud. Besides, Capitol or not, the Reeveses were doomed to suffer, and no one wanted to be in range, even after Quintin managed to mentor two more tributes to Victory. Still, he couldn't save the father of his grandchildren from a factory accident. He couldn't save my mother, who died in Brutus Santori's arms. He couldn't save my uncle, who died in the volcanic eruption in the Quell. Losing both Summer and Marble a year apart was ultimately what killed Quintin Reeves. His health began to fail and he was stricken with illness after illness. The Capitol tried to treat him, but Quintin's heart was too broken. He stopped fighting and died in the winter of Fifty-Two, leaving two young granddaughters behind.

Rycin and Sylva took us in, as per Quintin's will. We all missed him terribly, of course, but we also thought that with his death, the curse would be done with us. The four of us lived a comfortable, happy life for sixteen years, despite the fact that Sunny and I were all but shunned.

Then, Sunny was reaped for the Sixty-Fourth Hunger Games, and any sense of safety I had shattered. The curse was still there, and I knew I was next. I did everything I could to prepare for being Reaped. What many saw as harvesting grain was me learning how to work a sickle. What looked like sowing seeds and moving farming materials gave me some form of upper body strength. Playing the fiddle taught me how to play a crowd. My reading material consists of survival books and stories. While I am no Career, I certainly have an advantage, even after only two years of waiting for the inevitable.

I guess I decided I was tired of waiting.

Still, when I'm escorted to the train and almost immediately, Rycin and Sylva begin the "What the hell were you thinking?" speech, I can't put any of it into words.

"I…I don't know," I try to explain as the train begins to roll away from Nine. Bran is somewhere else. Thankfully, Luna has the sense to take him to another room. "It just happened, I guess." The moment the words leave my mouth, I know this answer is unacceptable. Sure enough, Rycin explodes.

"It just happened?! Amber, getting reaped 'just happens.' Volunteering does not!"

"He's right," Sylva says steadily, "and I know you're smart enough not to do something like this on impulse."

I don't have the heart to tell Sylva that I very much am not. "I just…it didn't matter, right? My name was on that slip."

"You don't know that," Rycin retorts. "You didn't give Luna a chance to read that slip. It could have been anyone on there. If I ask Luna if your name was on that slip, and she says no, what then? You'd have thrown your life away for nothing!"

It's like I've been hit by the very train I'm on. Throw my life away? I blink for a moment, wondering if I heard that wrong. Throw my life away?

A white-hot fire rises in my chest. I thought that Rycin and Sylva, who know full well what happened to my family, would understand. Tears well up in my eyes. "I'm not throwing my life away! I'm not! I have no intention of dying, but if I do die, I'm doing so on my own terms, not because of some curse, and not because the–"

"Amber!" Sylva's voice is harsh and almost desperate. I look towards her, catching her looking around quickly before meeting my gaze. "You need to calm down."

I find myself deflating and dropping onto the chair. The fire in me is gone, replaced with a deep shame. "I'm sorry. I'm sorry," I say quickly. "I just… I was so sure I was going in. I wanted to be more than just another Reeves." My vision begins to blur and my chest begins to tighten. "I wanted to do what I should have done for Sunny years ago, and…I want to win." I look up at Sylva and Rycin, desperately trying to blink away the tears. "If I win, then I'm safe. The curse is broken. I don't have to live in fear anymore."

Rycin and Sylva give each other a long look before Sylva reaches out and takes my hand. "I'm sorry too," Rycin says. "I just wish you had told us you were going to do this."

"You would have talked me out of it," I say quietly, just wanting this discussion to end.

Rycin chuckles. "You're right, we would have." He stands up and heads over to where the hot drinks are. "What's done is done. There's no use fighting over it now." He pours some liquid into a mug and walks back over before handing it to me. I take the mug and the smell of hot chocolate immediately fills my nostrils. He ruffles my hair before brushing it behind my ear. I take a sip of the drink and almost instantly, I feel somewhat better. Sylva reaches into the drawer and pulls out a box of tissues for me to wipe my eyes with. "Thank you," I say quietly, "I'm sorry. I…I didn't mean to upset either of you."

"It's alright," Sylva replies. "I don't agree with what you did but…I think I understand. We can talk about it more later. Right now, we need a plan."

"What about Bran? Should we go get him?" I find myself asking.

"Are you considering allying with him?" Rycin asks.

Am I? I honestly don't know. He's so young and I don't know what he can do. He could very well be a liability. On the other hand, I can't help but pity him. He didn't ask to be reaped alongside me. He didn't ask for any of this.

"I don't know," I reply slowly. "Just…promise me you won't play favorites if we decide not to ally."

Rycin looks pained. Officially, he's Bran's mentor. I trust that he would never play favorites, but it must be hard knowing that he has to keep another kid safe at the cost of my own life. Another rush of guilt hits me when I realize the situation I put him in. After a moment, Rycin nods. "Okay. I promise," he says firmly.

I take another sip of hot chocolate. "Thank you. Now, let's get him in here."

"Oh, I've been here!" I almost jump out of my chair. We all turn to see Bran under the table, looking like the cat who ate the canary.

"How…long have you been here?" Sylva asks. I second that question.

"I dunno," Bran replies as he crawls out from under the table. "Too long, maybe?"

"No one even saw you enter…" Rycin breathes.

I just stare at Bran. On one hand, I want to go off on this kid for eavesdropping on a private conversation. On the other hand, I'm impressed.

Bran is all smiles for a tribute. There's no sign of the fear he was showing before. Did he fake it? Should I be worried?

"For what it's worth," Bran says, smiling at me, "I don't think you're so bad, even though you're cursed. In fact, I think you're very brave. Crazy, but brave."

"Thanks," I reply carefully.

"Do you want to be allies?"

The question catches me so off guard that I nearly spill my drink. "What?"

"You heard me," Bran replies. "Do you want to be allies? Not like the curse can get me now. It already did, kind of."

Thanks, Bran, for bringing that up.

I do consider it for a moment. I'm not even sure I want allies yet, let alone allying with Bran. I'm not stealthy, I'd give him away in a heartbeat. He doesn't look like he's very strong, unable to hold his own if it came down to it. I can't help but feel like we'd only hold each other back, but I can't bring myself to turn him down either, not when he's looking at me with those stupid kicked puppy eyes.

I don't want to say yes, but I also don't want to say no just yet. "I'll tell you what. Let's see how training goes. We'll go from there. Sound fair?"

Bran nods. "Sure. That works. We could get even more allies too. We could be the anti-Careers or something!"

More allies? I'm not even sure I want a singular ally. I hold up my hand. "Whoa, whoa. One step at a time."

Bran nods. "Yeah, right, sorry. Training first."

"In the meantime," Sylva interrupts. "do you wish to be coached together or separately?"

Bran looks over and shrugs. "I don't see why not? What about you, Ames?"

"Ames?" It takes me a moment to recover from the sudden nickname. As for the offer, I don't think I can take him up on that, not until I decide whether or not I want to ally with him. I can't risk leading him on and letting him think I'm going to for sure ally with him. I don't want him to create his whole strategy around something that might not even happen. I can't do that to him. At the end of the day, he has to die if I'm going to live. "Sorry, Bran. Don't take this the wrong way, but… I think it's best if we do this separately for now."

Bran looks saddened. "I understand. Just think about it, okay?"

I give him a smile. "I will, okay? And I'll get you an answer soon."

Sylva stands up. "Alright then. Amber, let's go into another room and get started, shall we?"

Working Chapter Title: Fruit Salad, Yummy Yummy (feat. Amber facing the music.)

Yes, this entire story happened because Quintin killed someone with a fruit salad. It literally came to me as I was editing this chapter. I was having trouble coming up with something that Quintin would have done for the Capitol to do what they did to his family. Being the wrong victor was bad, but not bad enough, and I needed something that would have completely and utterly humiliated the Capitol. Then fruit salad happened. The whole thing seemed so ridiculous and dumb that I almost changed it, but I thought about it and realized that the favorite being murdered by a fruit salad because the Gamemakers didn't think to make their gift delivery method tamper-proof would one hundred percent piss some important people off, especially if you consider who was likely Head Gamemaker at the time.

I felt that now was a good time to delve into the origins of the curse after hinting at it the past couple of chapters. Volumnia Gaul, who nearly killed a girl with poisonous snakes over an essay, would have no qualms about making a kid's life a living hell over humiliating her. The people of the Capitol loved seeing the Luckiest Family in Panem in the arena, so the curse outlived Dr. Gaul and Quintin. I'm sorry if it seemed over the top, but I knew that to warrant a family curse, I knew it had to be incredibly humiliating to the powers that be.

On another note, we get to see more of Bran Crawford. He is definitely energetic and sociable, at least compared to Amber. Time will tell if she decides to ally with him…or anyone else.