Two years, five months before the 128th annual reaping

-Paisley Adams, District 8-

She would describe the men as… Well, the only word she could use that would encapsulate them all is horny. Each one was different, each one had their own different reason for walking through those doors, whether good or bad. Most of them were just selfish, wanting that immediate gratification of having a night with her and leaving. Some of them were just plain pathetic: so lonely and desperate that they have no shame walking through those doors.

Each of them had their own reasons. Some involved a fetish they just couldn't possibly share with the rest of the world. Some involved being unattractive, serially rejected and sent away. Some involved a dare, a bet, a birthday, or a bachelor party, a guy that just wanted to have one wild night and a crazy story to tell for the rest of his days.

Men were just… a different breed. All of them vile, dreaming of a night with a pretty young girl like her.

Okay, not all of them were vile. Some ended up in her bed because of situations that they just couldn't control. Brokenness in relationships and emotions that were just unfolding in front of them. They just wanted one night where they could feel in control of something. These ones, the ones that truly were lost, were rare. Diamonds in the rough, you might say. But she would never forget that kind man with the gentle brown eyes. She wasn't sure she'd ever seen such gentleness before. He made her realize what she had been blinded to for a whole year before this.

"I am so broken. Why did you select me?" he'd asked her.

She looked at him as she pulled her shirt back on. "I'm sorry?"

"Why did you select me?"

"I'm sorry, I don't understand the question," Paisley said. "I don't select my clients."

"You don't?!" the genuine surprise in his voice made Paisley linger for an extra moment where she would usually have run out the door. "Oh my. You are such a special young lady, and attractive enough that I just thought you had your choice of the District."

Paisley had plenty of men try to butter her up in the past, either for another round or a discount. She was immediately suspicious, raising an eyebrow at him. But his expression was so different from those other men that she didn't leave just yet.

Paisley was fifteen at that time… She didn't have a choice about anything. She went wherever her mistress told her to go. She did whatever she was told to do. Paisley always knew she sold well, make no mistake about that. But she didn't think that translated into anything other than filling her mistress's pockets.

"Oh," was the only response she gave him. She certainly wasn't going to stick around and continue to entertain him: not unless he was going to pay of course. "Well, thank you for your patronage." She gave him one last look as she pulled up the skirt that was chosen for her by Mistress. She had to get back to the brothel before her next appointment. It was just business.

But as she made the walk back, her fists ready if someone tried to solicit her services for free, his words stuck in her head.

That night, and that lonely man, changed Paisley's life forever.

She was never the same after that.

Paisley smiled a little at the thought of that moment as she got out of bed that morning. It was always nice when she had nobody lined up for an overnight and could wake up in her own bed. It was rare nowadays that she was able to do that, so she enjoyed it while it lasted. She could take her time getting out of bed. The weirdest part of it was sleeping with clothes on.

She got up and went over to her familiar dresser, that felt in a way unfamiliar as it'd been so long since she was here last for more than just a few moments between appointments. There was a comfortable feeling that came with waking up here, but also a slight feeling of dread.

"Look who finally decided to get up," came the cold voice from her doorway. "What the hell are you doing here? Thought you were moving out with how long you've been gone." Despite the fact that everything Paisley did benefitted her mother and brought in good money, she said it coldly.

"If only," Paisley muttered to herself. Nothing she ever did could possibly be good enough for this woman, and she knew it.

"You'd better not be here tomorrow," she said, giving Paisley a cold scowl.

"Oh, I don't intend to be." When her mother walked away, a smirk formed on Paisley's face. This was her magnum opus, and she had been waiting for this day for so long. She was taking a huge leap today, and it was all because of that man…

Paisley couldn't betray her true intentions quiet yet, though, not when she was still living in this house. She started to gather her things, continually looking over her shoulder to make sure that terrible woman wasn't looking over her shoulder. She was certainly controlling: and Paisley never even realized how badly she was being mistreated…. No.

Paisley put as much on her person as she could before stuffing what she could into her purse, around her condoms, birth control, and extra lube just in case her clients were stuffy and forgot. Paisley was going to accept n o excuses from the likes of anyone, but especially not her clients. After that fateful day, Paisley took her life into her own hands: allowing herself to screen her clients before agreeing to spend time with them. That changed everything.

Mistress wasn't happy about it, true, but Paisley didn't fucking care what that terrible woman thought. Eventually, once it started to benefit her, Mistress changed her tune about Paisley screening clients. Something about being forbidden fruit made her prices skyrocket. She was the best whore that Mistress had, and the older woman knew it.

Well, she's not going to have me for long. A wicked smile spread across Paisley's smile as she choose her own outfit, taking care to curl her hair. Though her fine texture wouldn't hold it all day, she didn't need it all day. Soon, she would be able to put it up however she pleased without having to worry about what her clients wanted.

Paisley dragged the lipstick across her lips, her eyes meeting their half-lidded reflection in the mirror. She was just going through the motions at this point. How she hated when Mistress would barge in, insisting to do her make-up for her.

No worries. No more of that.

But she couldn't help looking over her shoulder again, just to be sure that nobody was standing in the doorway. Paisley didn't try to pretend that she wasn't afraid. Those who believed they were infallible always fell to ruin after all. Being afraid was just part of being human, and if she denied that part of herself, she would definitely crumble. And if there was one thing she couldn't allow to happen, it was that.

Paisley Adams hadn't fought her way to where she was just to wither away. She had to succeed. She couldn't let herself be doomed to nothing after so much hard work.

Paisley came out, taking a granola bar for breakfast. As a young child, she sometimes didn't even get breakfast, and now they were living well. All thanks to Paisley, which no doubt her mother despised. Good.

She was gone, thankfully, allowing Paisley to go back and collect the last of her necessary items. It was a long road ahead for Paisley, but she had no doubt that she had what it took to get there. She knew her limitations, and her aspirations fit comfortably within those, right outside of her comfort zone.

Ha, comfort zone. She was a whore. She barely had a comfort zone. As a child she wasn't allowed to have one, but now she was taking control of her own destiny. And she couldn't wait to just get there!

Paisley headed out the door. She conveniently forgot to lock the door on her way to work. Oopsies, she thought, looking behind her shoulder one last time before she walked to the brothel.

"You're late!" said Mistress when she arrived, giving her a glare through dark eyes.

"Sorry," said Paisley, pushing her spite down. She could be civil when she needed to. Being civil now made the revenge taste so much sweeter.

"You have an appointment in ten," said Mistress, as a few of Paisley's coworkers milled about the small space, all of them giving her some serious side-eye. They always screamed favoritism at Paisley. Sure, because constant verbal abuse just screams favoritism.

"I know my own schedule," said Paisley. "But what you don't know is that I cancelled all of my appointments today."

Mistress stared at her for a moment. "What?!"

"I cancelled them all, because I quit."

"You can't quit!"

"I just did quit."

Mistress looked at the bag she was holding for a moment, her voice betraying the shock that was shown clearly on her face. "You can't! Paisley Adams!"

But her yelling didn't scare Paisley anymore. After so much of it, a ho just gets desensitized as hell. "Oh, but I can."

"How could you do this to your own mother?!"

"Is that supposed to make me feel bad?" asked Paisley. "You whored out your own daughter."

"It's the least you could have done after you ruined my career!" shouted Mother. "I could have been the star, I was well on the fast-track. I am giving you an opportunity that should have been mine, if it wasn't for you!"

"Well, I'm done here," said Paisley.

"And what are you going to do? I won't house a freeloader." She glared at her daughter.

"I'm going to go off to bigger and better things. And I'm taking some of your brightest with me."

"They would never!"

"Why else wouldn't they report into work? They're reporting to me now. I'm their new Madame."

She was absolutely gaping at the names that brought in such big money.

"I'm going to run a brothel that is honest and safe, unlike the shit pile you're doing here," Paisley said. "No one should have to go through what you put me through, and I'm going to make sure that they don't! Screening clients, requiring STD testing, reliable access to birth control that isn't out of our own damn pockets. Everything that you didn't give to your own daughter, as long as you could send me away with the highest paying bidder."

"You are a child, you will never be successful. You will be back to whoring before you know it, and you aren't going to find work here."

Paisley's chest filled up with nerves as she stared down her mother. She knew that was a possibility. But she didn't care. So what if she was only sixteen? She couldn't stand to stay here for the rest of her life. She had to do something more someday, so why not today!? She had people, she'd rented a space for cheap that would serve as her sleeping quarters for now and her brothel…

And, unlike Mother Mistress, Paisley knew what it meant to be forbidden fruit.

"Good day, Cher. I can't keep my Gentlemen waiting any longer to get to work."

Paisley gave her one last side-eye over her shoulder before she turned around and walked out of the room, the other employees watching in surprise at the outburst.

She went a few blocks down to the empty building with four men standing in front of it, all of them wanting something bigger and better for themselves, just as Paisley did.

"Good morning," she greeted them all. She could never have them too close, but she certainly wouldn't treat them poorly like she'd been treated. She took the key she'd been given to the small, ratty shack, and unlocked the door, pulling it open and walking into the room, followed closely by her new employees as her heels clicked on the floor. She turned around to face them and made eye contact with each of them before she spoke.

"Welcome home, Gentlemen."

~.~.

Two years, three months before the 128th annual reaping

-Rory Kwan, District 8-

They were so sure that work would be better than school. School was always such a damn drag: sitting in classes all day, being lectured about things that they would definitely never use outside those four walls. Everyone knew it, too. Rory would never say it to their parents, but they were so happy to get out of there. It was one of the many silver linings to such… Sudden news.

But, Rory quickly learned that work was no better than school. Work, in fact, was even worse. At least school housed his friends: Catana and Tartan were always there for their lunch break and they were always excited to hang out with them. Well, that is, until Catana just couldn't control herself anymore. Rory frowned at that thought, which was quickly replaced by a small bout of rage in their gut. Why couldn't she just let Rory be happy?!

They didn't understand. If she had feelings for them, she should have said something before they started dating someone else. Not that it would have mattered: Amira had Rory's full heart from the very first time they met. But maybe if she wrapped her dense little head around the fact that Rory only saw her as a friend, maybe she could finally stop trying to convince them to dump her. They would never do that, especially not because Catana tried to create narratives that simply weren't true. Her arguments against Amira just didn't make sense: she didn't know Amira at all and was making some pretty wild assumptions about her relationship with Rory. It was something that Catana really didn't need to put herself into, and yet she just kept on insisting that she had a say in who Rory dated because they were friends.

Rory sighed, annoyed that they'd soured themself so quickly. This wasn't how their afternoon was supposed to be. They couldn't let that keep them down. They had a great day of work: Rory was promised by their supervisor that if they completed packaging today's stock of fabrics, they would get the rest of the day off. Rory was exhausted: they skipped lunch, worked so hard all day, just for those extra couple hours with the people they loved. After all, what was lunch without friends to eat it with? However, they were so sure it was going to be totally worth it once they got home.

Rory stopped at the corner market on the way home. Even from a young age, they always loved coming here. They sold treats for affordable prices. They loved to come here with Tartan after school. Rory's friend was well-known around the District: he shared a name with a Victor, after all, and with siblings named Anthony and Kiari, it was obvious that it was intentionally. His parents were superstitious about the Games, believing that if their son shared the name of a Victor, he would never be reaped.

Lately, Rory hasn't seen much of their friend. But Tartan mentioned that he might be going to work next year to keep from taking tesserae. Rory hoped that was true: they were very busy with work and family so they barely talked anymore. But, they also knew that Tartan loved school, and felt bad that the opportunity had to be stolen away from him because of money, food, and superstition.

Rory never wanted to be like that. They wanted to be the very best they could be for Elaina. The thought of the reaping possibly taking away Rory's baby from them was a scary one, but they wouldn't want to hurt their child's quality of life out of fear of the reaping. That just didn't seem fair to her.

"Rory!" greeted the storekeeper, who knew the sixteen-year-old well by now. Rory pushed the annoyance of thinking about his friend out of their mind, not allowing any of that to show in their face as they entered the small, dingy shop.

"Good afternoon." They always felt a little awkward coming into the store. All that man wanted to do was talk about stuff that Rory wasn't interested in telling him: how's the family, what's your father been up to, long day at work… Rory just gave the shortest answers they could, not engaging with the shopkeeper until the man got the hint and stopped talking.

Rory couldn't wait for Elaina to be old enough that they could bring her to the store. Rory loved to come here as a child, and knew that she would love it too. There was not much here for an infant, though, so Rory just got some flowers for Amira. They knew her favorite by now, and thankfully there were some in the store that had not quite yet bloomed, but were close.

Rory paid for the flowers and got out, still feeling a little bit sour after the prying of the shopkeeper. However, knowing what was waiting for them at home made that mood fade away quickly into excitement. Their girls were never going to see this coming. Rory's beautiful Amira, and their little girl Elaina, already a spitting image of her mother, the same skin tone, the same beautiful brown eyes, the semblance of some of that thick dark hair that Rory loved to bury their fingers in. Not that Elaina really knew what was happening: she was still so small and fragile. But Rory knew that Amira was going to appreciate having the night off from tending to the baby, which Rory was happy to do for her. They loved spending time with their daughter, after all, even if it was changing diapers and getting snot out of her nose. Hopefully Amira would get a good nap this evening and feel more rested.

This thought made Rory's negative emotions all fade away pretty quick. They were extremely anxious when Amira told them the news, but now they looked forward to nothing more than coming home to their family every day. It was such a great feeling to know that they had people that they loved so much waiting for them. Not that Rory's parents and two older sisters weren't loving: of course they were, even (and especially) when Rory came out to them as genderfluid and pansexual. But having a family of their very own: even at the young age of sixteen: was completely different, and so much better.

Rory was smiling to themself by the time they unlocked the door to their house and pushed it open. It was going to be amazing.

"Honey, I'm hoooome!" said Rory in a sing-song voice as they stepped into the door. They were met with no response. Rory quickly put a hand over their mouth. They didn't mean to wake them. They hoped that their outburst hadn't disturbed their daughter or girlfriend. Rory pulled the door closed behind them quietly. Rory quietly came to the small vase they'd afforded to get her for the counter, filling it with water slowly and gently before dropping the flowers inside and putting them up so she could see them when she came in after her nap.

Rory quietly peeked into Elaina's bedroom, and heard the sounds of his daughter sleeping quietly. They couldn't help but smile at the sight of their daughter, even in the dark. They certainly were not going to bother or disturb her, and left quietly.

Suddenly, they heard a scream come from the bedroom that made their body tense as they instinctively turned towards the door. Rory wasn't thinking anymore: their body lurched into action as they hurried to be by her aid, hoping it wasn't too late….

Rory burst through the door and Amira let out another scream: and Rory realized that the first one was not horrified compared to the second.

A man was on top of: inside: of Rory's girl. Rory stared at the sight for a moment as Amira pushed him off of her and barely gave him a single moment to get dressed before he was sent out the door, condom still on.

Rory stared at the scene in front of them in shock, unable to even say a single thing they were so surprised. Their body was frozen as the man: who left some high-end brand clothing behind when he hurried outside: disappeared out of sight.

"It's not what you think!" Amira tried to save herself. "It wasn't!" She stepped towards him, still completely naked. "Rory…"

Hearing her say their name snapped Rory out of their stupor. Like a wave, hurt and anger washed over their heart. "How could you?" they asked, their voice coming out quiet but wavering.

"It was just a one time thing," said Amira. "I swear!"

"How am I supposed to believe anything you say is true?" Rory asked, as their eyes filled with tears at this betrayal of their trust. They loved her… They were going to propose to her, they wanted to be with her forever! And now… This was how they were repaid.

"You have to believe me! Rory!"

"No. I can't believe you! You lied to me! You betrayed my trust!"

"Rory-"

"There's flowers out there, I bought them for you!" Rory said, as a tear rolled down their cheek as they stared at the woman they threw everything away to care for. "I worked like a dog to come home to you! To take the responsibility from you! How could you do this to me?!"

"Me me me, that's all you ever care about!" said Amira, her voice taking on a cold and bitter age. "It's always about Rory. You leave me here alone to raise a child, and when you get back you're too tired for anything and I have to take care of you too! I just didn't know where to go, I needed my needs to be met for once!" her eyes filled up with tears.

"That's not true!" cried Rory. "I do everything for you! To keep you comfortable! To make a better life for our daughter, who is far more important than you, or me!"

"I just gave birth! I can't control my hormones, I can't control my feelings or actions! And you weren't there! I need someone that can do what you can't!"

"You can't control your feelings, but you can control your actions!" Rory's anger flamed in their gut, now not thinking about themself. There was something more important than Rory, Amira, any of them! "You brought a stranger into a house with our newborn daughter! You should be ashamed, she could have gotten sick or hurt!"

"She was napping! And he was not a stranger!"

"Bullshit!" cried Rory, their voice booming off of the walls.

"Stop yelling at me!" Amira cried, letting out a sob.

"You can hurt me all you want, but you will not risk my daughter and get away with it!" Rory screamed at her.

"She is not your daughter!"

Elaina's cries from her room were the only noise in the room.

"What did you just say?" Rory asked, their voice quivering.

"I'm going to get my daughter," Amira said, as more tears rolled down her face and she pulled on a pair of underwear and a bra. "Mommy's coming, Elaina."

Rory watched her leave as tears rolled out of their eyes and a small sob escaped their lips. "No…" they said quietly. Their daughter… This couldn't be… Rory had been working hard to give Elaina a better life, she was theirs. And… If she wasn't Rory's… Then…

Tears hit the floor at Rory's feet as Elaina's cries stopped. Rory stood in the doorway of their bedroom when Amira came back out.

"Rory, I'm sorry-"

"You cheated on me," they said, keeping themself from yelling to avoid causing sweet Elaina any more distress. "Before this, and you weren't sorry. You are only sorry you got caught. But that baby is mine. I have paid for her clothing, her crib, her food. I have loved her, I have raised her. She's my daughter, I don't care what blood she has."

"It's not your blood, she is not yours. She is my daughter. And since we have broken up, you have no authority over her or me anymore."

"Amira, I am her Popi, you can't do this-"

"My blood runs through her veins. Not yours. She is mine. I am making the best decision for her."

"Bullshit!" yelled Rory, unable to control themself as Elaina started crying again.

"Look what you did to my daughter!" said Amira, before she pointed at the door. "Get out. Leave my house and never speak to my daughter again." Rory walked calmly out the door, only stopping to rip the flowers out of the vase in the kitchen. Arguing was pointless: in a legal custody battle, Rory had no chance, and they knew it.

You will never love her like I did, they thought towards her as they left.

She is my daughter, and I'm going to get her back.

I don't know how yet, but I will find a way.

~.~.

A/N: Here's our next pair of tributes! District Eight happened to be introduced in the same chapter, which is an interesting coincidence. Anyways, thanks to IVolunteerAsAuthor and HogwartsDreamer113 for Paisley and Rory respectively!

Work is in full swing for me but I'm going to try and write an intro each weekend and keep updates at least a little consistent, but we'll see what happens when it happens.

Don't have much else to say except keep an eye on the blog for drawings and I'll see you soonish for the next update!

Next Chapter: Form 15 and Form 9.