TW: Murder in Brizio's pov. Please dm me for a summary, if needed!

Briar Bacardi, 17

April 15th 2427

3 months Prior to the games

District Nine

Briar splashes a handful of icy-cold water over her tired eyes, cleansing any sleepiness from them. Neither she nor Chaney can afford hot water for their apartment - it's too expensive. Briar doesn't mind that so much though; the numb, chilly feeling on her face is what she needs every day to be alert and ready for business. She always has to be alert, always has to have her brain screwed on. Chaney sure as hell doesn't, and so she and Chaney's lives depend on it.

She leans her elbows onto the bathroom sink, staring up at the mirror, into her hazel eyes. She can see the hesitation in the girl staring back at her. A single thought continues to invade her mind like an army, and no matter how much she fortifies it, the thought won't go away.

Will she ever be good enough, for anyone?

She wasn't good enough for the mother that abandoned her. She wasn't good enough for her father, who treated her like an old, worthless piece of furniture in the corner of the house.

Her face collapses into her hands.

No. She may not have been good enough for any of them, but right now she's good enough for herself, and that's all that matters. She's the one that's been putting food on her table since she was ten years old, she's the one that keeps herself afloat.

She's the only one… well there is one other now. It's something she never expected or intended to happen. Life has a way of twisting things like that, for better or for worse. It's those little occasional surprises in the endless conveyor belt of shittyness that Briar lives for.

This is the only time she can be vulnerable, when she's alone in her thoughts. It's impossible when Chaney is awake. He doesn't stop talking long enough to have thoughts at all… maybe that's a good thing.

Briar removes her hands from her face and zones into her reflection. Her eyes narrow, her fists clench. The invading force in the back of her mind evaporates away.

The District bank - It's their target for today. Inside that bank is the only thing that keeps food on their table, and allows them to pay their way in this shoddy little apartment.

She glances down at a clock by the sink - 9:00 am, it reads.

Is that idiot still not awake? - she thinks to herself.

The young bandit pushes herself off the sink and heads out to fetch her worn-black leather jacket. After tugging it over her shoulders, she heads back into the bedroom, tying her short hair back simultaneously.

Chaney is still in bed, stirring under the covers; his short, buzz-cut hair and large, goofy ears peek out of the sheets.

She's about to throw something at his big dumb head to wake him up, but unexpectedly, she finds herself leaning against the doorframe with a gentle smile forming on her lips. He's her everything, the one person she can smile at, the one person that allows her to see some light in the world. She'd never say that to him though.

Finally, he rolls over, his half-awake eyes peel open. Briar immediately drops her smile and folds her arms impatiently.

"Hey…" he croaks in his morning voice before giving his eyes a rub.

"Do yer know what time it is?" Briar snaps, raising an eyebrow.

Chaney rolls onto his side to peer at the clock. "Oops."

"C'mon, get up dummy. Chop-chop, you don't get paid by the hour," Briar orders, moving into the room.

But Chaney simply shoves his pillow over his head. "Check the router… I booked the day off."

Briar sighs. "There ain't no such thing as a router here."

"Then I'm callin' in sick," Chaney quips.

Having her patience run thin, Briar takes her boyfriend's clothes and launches them at his head. "Come on, up! I won't ask again."

Chaney rubs his eyes again, steadily rising from the bed, and at last starts to get dressed. Meanwhile, Briar tosses a duffel bag up on the bed, and begins packing various tools, guns, and switchblades inside.

"On a serious note, can we be sure to snag the nice shiny pens at the bank? I can't go without my shiny pens," Chaney grins, zipping up his black jacket and heading for the bedroom door. It still has the label on the back of the collar from the day he stole it.

But Briar reaches forward and clasps his wrist, dragging her six-foot lover back to her. She tugs at his collar and pulls him closer to her, staring up at him. "Remember our plan?" She mutters.

Giving Briar a goofy smile, Chaney begins bouncing on the balls of his feet. "Plans? Never heard of such a thing," he chuckles.

Briar rolls her eyes. "Chaney, please… I'm serious."

"Ok… once we have enough money, we'll drive out of the suburbs, across the bridge, and into the town. We'll both get jobs and start deciding the rest of our life together," he repeats her words back to her with a smile.

Although truthfully, that life seems very alien to Briar. This life of adventure, of robbery, of thrill… it's what gives her purpose. It's what keeps her negative thoughts at bay.

Then closing their eyes, the lovers press their lips up against each other, embracing one another for a good few moments - long enough that Briar almost forgets that they're supposed to be robbing a bank. She tugs herself away from him, which breaks their lips suddenly apart.

"Oh… can you toss me the swaggie baggie?" Chaney requests.

"Do you have to call it that?" Briar sighs back.

She chucks the bag over to him, and he catches it in one hand, smirking. "Yes," he answers.

Together, they take the short journey across their compact little apartment, hopping over clothes and boxes that lay strewn on the floor. Once outside, they jog down the stairs and out the door leading onto their street.

The mid-morning sun is glaring down on the street. Yet, the fields of wheat and old wooden ranches dotted around still look as grey as ever. The only thing that doesn't appear grey is Chaney's car, parked in between two of the ranches. It glows red in the sunlight, in turn brightening up the street… and Briar's life.

Chaney stops in front of his car, then spins around to face Briar, gesturing to the sparkling vehicle. "Your chariot awaits… your highness," he says, bowing down.

Briar once again rolls her eyes. She jumps into the passenger seat. Chaney joins her soon after in the driver's seat, dumping the duffel bag down in between them. "Ready to roll?" he asks.

Then he ignites the engine, swinging the wheel round in a swift motion. Briar leans against the window on her elbow, the golden fields of wheat zoom past her eyes as Chaney puts his foot down on the gas.

She doesn't get lost for long in her thoughts, however, as soon, Chaney's verbal barrage continues. "Do you remember how we met?" he smirks.

Briar releases her arm from the window and turns her gaze to him. "I try to forget," she responds.

"Hey miss, could you take a look at my car? I think there's something wrong with the engine," he echoes his silly voice from the day they met.

"You missed the part where I called you a moron," Briar adds, casually.

"Ya know, I have no idea why I stopped doing my little car trick… I should really pick it up again," Chaney continues.

"Only if you want to get us killed."

Chaney slows the car once the pair cross the large, concrete bridge over the river. The grey, stone buildings of the main town begin closing in around them. Chaney takes a right and rolls slowly into a wide street. Their car screeches to a halt just under a hanging sign reading "Bank."

Briar's hands fumble around in the glove box for her balaclava, whilst Chaney produces one from his pocket.

She pauses. Something's wrong. It's a feeling. A deep feeling of dread creeps into her heart, bubbling up inside her like a boiling kettle. She breathes in and closes her eyes momentarily, and when she opens them, she finds Chaney's eyes are fixed on her. His eyes appear concerned for once.

"You ok?" he asks.

"I…I…"

"What?"

"It's just… I have this horrible feeling that our luck might be about to run out… like something awful is coming," Briar murmurs.

Chaney rubs her arm softly, then he pulls out a slim, black, ornate ring from his pocket. "I snagged this from the safe of the mayor's house yesterday," he mentions while grinning at it. Then he turns his eyes back to her and he flips the ring into her hands. "Remember what we say? We create our own luck," he smiles, before slipping on his balaclava and stepping out of the car.

Briar stares at the ring in her palm momentarily, and suddenly she finds the feeling of dread is replaced by a warmth in her heart. "We create our own luck," she mutters to herself, then she swiftly pulls on her own balaclava.

(A deep part of her mind imagines the ring as their wedding ring but she hastily shakes it away.)

She places the ring in her right pocket and a gun in her left. Then, she hooks the duffel bag around her shoulder, hopping out of the car. Chaney is waiting for her, outside the bank, bouncing impatiently on the balls of his feet, as usual. They send each other a nod before bursting through the double doors, guns raised.

Screaming envelops the room as frightened customers duck down in terror, covering their eyes and shaking. Briar has to battle back any inkling of guilt she might have. She never intends to use her weapon on anyone; it's just to ensure the money ends up in the bag, to ensure her and Chaney's survival.

"You!" She points her gun towards one of the employees, a young man not much older than her, wearing a smart suit with mid-length black hair hung over his face.

She drags him over the counter by the tie, shoving her gun against his temple! "The safe! Now!" She commands.

As the clerk directs her to the safe, Chaney keeps watch over everyone else in the main room. The clerk seems oddly calm; his breaths are normal, and his hands aren't even shaking slightly as he dials the number pad on the safe.

"Hurry up!" Briar bellows, pressing the gun harder against his head.

But the even-tempered clerk pauses, his dark eyes travelling to hers. "Briar? I knew it was you," he exclaims, suddenly wide-mouthed.

It all makes sense. Why he has been so calm, why his face looks oddly familiar. It had been seven years since she, Aidan, and the gang had been rocking District Nine as part of a petty group of street urchins.

"Giving to the world as always, I see?" He says, condescendingly.

A flush of fire runs through Briar's veins, her hand tightens around her gun, and she presses it into his cheek.

"The safe!" She commands. "Or your blood will decorate it."

"Still got the fire, ay?" he smirks back, but then a stern look from Briar forces him to open the safe.

Immediately, the thief shoots her arm into the square compartment, dragging all of the money out and stuffing it into her bag. She rushes back towards the door in a flash, fastening the bag around her shoulder and dragging Chaney out by the wrist.

"Wait a sec!" Chaney pulls himself away from her, heading back to the counter.

Briar ignores her pounding heart and swings her head back to her accomplice. "What?"

Chaney reaches behind the counter and snatches several objects up in his hands. He swivels around, waving several shining pens in his hand with the cheeky grin of a child that's stayed up past their bedtime.

Briar lets out a deep guttural groan. "Let's go!"

The pair of crooks burst out of the bank. They practically leap back into the car, Chaney giggling the entire time. Even in her boyfriend's idiocy, he's quick off the mark, and already his foot is down to the floor.

As the car screeches through the neighbourhood, across the fields to the bridge, Chaney rips off his balaclava, throws his arms out, and hollers at the top of his lungs. "Whooooo!"

Meanwhile, Briar sinks back on her chair with a deep breath as the fields whoosh past her window. She sluggishly tears her balaclava off before her face sinks into her hands.

"Well...that went off without a hitch," Chaney's voice snaps her out of her thoughts once again, and she's aware that he's staring at her again. "I get the feelin' that you're troubled…"

Briar releases her hands from her face. "That sleazy clerk, at the bank… he recognised me," she mumbles.

"So what?"

Briar's troubled eyes move back to Chaney.

"No one knows where we live, no one cares… an advantage of being abandoned by everyone," he smiles. "Except each other."

Then he leans over and plants a kiss on her cheek, almost losing control of the wheel in the process.

Briar finds herself smiling with him. "Eyes on the road," she sighs.

After their successful heist, Briar found herself wandering out after sunset. Chaney stayed at home to cook their favourite - soup. Ever since they both discovered they love a liquid dinner; he's been throwing something together resembling soup. Even if it's only half edible, Briar doesn't care; he says he cooks it because it's her favourite.

Dark, grey clouds begin building in the night sky, and a light drizzle follows. Briar needs these moments in her own thoughts, where the only sound is her footsteps on the pavement of their quiet lane.

Her dad's small bungalow is suddenly in front of her. "Home." Why did she even come here? Not even she knows that. Does something deep inside of her want to pay him a visit? Would he recognise her at this point… or even remember her?

She pulls a hood over her head, collects a pebble into her hands, and tosses it at his window. Her heart jumps as his silhouette briefly comes into view under the orange light through the window.

Briar inhales deeply, sinking back against a metal post. Her eyes travel up to the stars above, then down to the ornate ring in her hands. A slight smile forms on her lips.

They only ever needed each other.

Alizka "Liz" Ito, 15

April 15th 2427

3 months Prior to the games

District Eight

Smoke rises high above the factories facing Liz's bedroom window, painting the sky a murky, dim grey hue. Swathes of textile workers huddle together in the chilly air as they leave their respective workplaces. Liz's eyes flicker between them; many of them have their hands sunken in their pockets, and their bag-filled eyes facing the ground, while they seem to saunter drearily across the path in their dull-grey worker's uniforms.

Liz observes them out of the window for a good ten minutes, placing her hand under her chin, and leaning on her windowsill. Then, finally, she reaches over to her paintbrush and dips it into a pot of blue paint. Time to add some colour to the world - she thinks to herself.

A white sheet of canvas faces her on her desk. She leans in and starts stroking her brush delicately onto the surface. By combining multiple colours, she recreates the scene outside of her window, only replacing the grey clouds with a clear blue sky, and giving the workers multi-coloured outfits, almost like clowns returning from a circus. Instead of grey smog, there are red and violet fireworks bursting from the chimneys in a bright display.

"Hmm, much better," she murmurs, placing her hand under her chin.

Liz doesn't truly understand why everyone in the district seems so sad. All she knows is what her parents tell her, that if she doesn't study hard in her core subjects, then she may become like the workers, instead of like her parents. Whatever that means.

All of a sudden, her heart is jolted by a knock at her door. "Liz, can I come in?" It's her mom's voice.

"Shit!"

Liz rapidly shoves her painting away. Her hands then scramble nervously around on her desk for her science revision.

"Erm…y-yeah, come in," she yells back, quickly turning her paper the right way up.

Her mom practically barges her way in, her eyes fixed immediately on her daughter's homework.

Liz sends her mom a cheeky smile. "What's up?" she asks, casually.

Her mother's eyebrows furrow as her gaze moves between Liz and her paper. "I was just checking that you were revising for your physics exam tomorrow?"

The girl glances down at the paper with her eyebrows raised, gesturing to it. "I was until you interrupted," she responds.

Her mom folds her arms suspiciously, pacing into the room. She flips over Liz's revision to inspect it then lets out an exasperated sigh. "This is biology…"

"Oops… my mistake," Liz shrugs.

"You can't keep doing this Liz… have you even been revising at all?"

Placing her hands on her hips, Java Ito leans under her daughter's desk. When she emerges, she is holding Liz's painting with nothing but defeat written all over her eyes.

"I-I did that last week," Liz smiles.

But her mother wipes her finger across the paint. "The paint is still wet, Liz."

"Alright! I get it! I'll revise all of tonight!" Liz groans, running her fingers through her hair.

"That's not the point, Alizka, I shouldn't have to be telling you this!"

(Her mother never calls her by her full name, not unless she's extra mad.)

The exhausted woman breathes in and rests her hands on the desk, finally deciding to take a calmer tone with her daughter. "I'm only being like this because I want what's best for you."

"And how are you so sure what's best for me?" Liz replies.

Her mother doesn't answer that. She simply turns, shutting the door behind her, leaving her daughter to think on it.

Sometimes Liz wonders what the world would be like if the Capitol did not exist. Would she be able to fulfill her dream of becoming an artist? She likes to think there's a universe out there where she does.

The next morning Liz is shaken awake by her obnoxious, buzzing alarm ringing through her head, a swarm of bees that are demanding attention. She checks the time - 8:00 am. The physics exam!

Suddenly her heart is pounding in her chest, like a steady but loud beat of a drum. She dashes to get ready, shoving all of her books in her bag, before racing downstairs. She was hoping she'd be able to get a game of chess in with Julia before the exam, but that doesn't seem likely anymore.

Her eyes scan around the house for any sign of life. If her parents weren't already at work they'd be pissed, she's sure of that.

Luckily, her school isn't too far. She is able to make it to the line outside the exam hall with exactly one minute to spare.

Her friends are waiting for her at the back of the queue, with their arms folded. Julia and Lua. She would trust both of them with her life, they are the only ones who seem to encourage her to paint rather than simply study for an academic field.

Liz skids to a halt, resting her arm on Julia's shoulder and panting heavily. "I- I never thought I could run that fast," she mutters between breaths.

The line begins moving forward. Butterflies swarm the breathless girl's stomach. Why didn't I revise more? I had plenty of time - are the only thoughts circling her mind.

Julia's eyes fill with concern at the sight of her friend bouncing nervously on her feet. "Don't be nervous, it's only an hour and a half, and then it'll be over."

"But… I barely revised," Liz whispers back, forcing an anxious smile.

"Me either… barely, you'll be fine," Julia smiles back.

"Am… am I the only one that revised?" Lua chimes in sheepishly.

Julia's words are enough to fend off the butterflies until she enters the hall but, for some reason, her brain seemed to choose this hour to forget anything about physics… and even how to read or write at some points. All she recalls is that she ended up spending most of the exam fidgeting, flipping the paper up and down, and going back and forth between each question, hoping that the next would somehow be easier.

At long last, the timer buzzes, signalling the end, and the students are ordered to put down their pens. Liz practically bursts out of the exam doors in a fit of rage, slumping against a brick wall just outside.

She buries her face in her hands and her fingers tug at her strands of black hair. A few moments later - a hand touches her shoulder, it's Julia with Lua by her side. Both of them are clutching the straps on their bags awkwardly.

"It can't have gone that bad," Julia mutters.

Liz removes her hands from her face. "Did you see me back there!?"

Her friends seem unsure of what to say to her at first but then something seems to light up in Julia's mind.

"Well… we have the rest of the day free, so why don't we just do something to take our minds off it?" Julia shrugs.

Liz glimpses up dead ahead, her attention immediately zones to the first thing she can see - a chimney of a factory stretching up high, almost into the clouds. She points her finger up to the chimney. "Let's climb that."

Her two friends turn to face the chimney, then back to her.

"Hell yeah!" Julia exclaims.

However, Lua grips the straps on her rucksack tighter and begins tracing her foot in the dirt. "G-guys… please… no."

But Lua's pleas fall on deaf ears. Her two friends have already sprung up like they've been injected by an electric current.

"I bet ya can't beat me to the top!" Liz beams.

"How much yer wanna bet?" Julia shoots back.

"Guys seriously, I don't want to have to be telling your parents later that you've hurt yourselves!" Lua groans.

Liz turns back to her apprehensive classmate, her usual cheeky smile returning. "We'll be fine, what could possibly go wrong?"

"Don't say that! Never say that!"

Clearly, there's no stopping the two girls. They race full speed across the gravel to a metal, wired fence.

"Wait guys remember what everyone says? Don't go past the fence, it's dangerous," Lua warns.

But by the time she's finished her sentence, Liz and Julia are already halfway over.

On the other side of the fence is an area known as Lower West Fleeville. It has the worst reputation in the entire District - with drugs, crime, and hideouts for the worst cutthroats and criminals.

(Although to Liz, that's all the more reason to dare it.)

Liz and Julia plonk down on the other side whilst Lua scrambles over just behind them, scurrying to keep up with the two daredevils.

As the trio pass across the gravel under the factories, a thick smog envelops them, making it almost impossible to see.

Something crunches underneath Liz's shoe, and she could have sworn it was a bone.

"What was that?" Lua whispers, her voice shaking.

"Nothing."

Liz peeks over her should, but the fence is gone, vanished into the smog.

It's suddenly deathly silent. Julia presses ahead peering around the various corners "Did you guys hear? Apparently, there's this killer dentist that hides around here," she whispers.

"What!?" Lua cries from behind.

Liz chuckles. "Well, I'll be fine, I brush my teeth twice a day," she opens up her gums… "Besides if you've noticed it's always the person at the back or the front that gets killed."

"Guys! Stop it! This isn't funny!"

Liz shifts back to her shaking friend, there is genuine fear in Lua's eyes. "Actually Julia, maybe we should turn back?"

"What?! Come on, I can see the chimney, it's right there," Julia throws her hands out.

But Liz gestures her head silently to their distressed friend, and finally, Julia gets the message. "Fine."

Liz darts her eyes around the smog-filled site, it's just haze all around. No wonder this is a great place for hiding murderers - she thinks.

Liz squints her eyes. "It was that way, right?" she asks, pointing in the opposite direction to the chimney.

The three friends glance between each other. A single realisation dawns on them at the same time - They're lost!

Dusk soon fell over the district, turning the smog into thick shadows crawling through every crevice like a spreading flood.

"Here it is!" Liz yells, rattling the fence.

The other two girls fade in from the oily-black smog, Lua practically crashes into the fence, gasping for breath. The girls haul each other back over the fence, and collapse back down on the other side, panting heavily.

"That was fun," Julia laughs.

Lua crawls back up to her feet, brushing herself down. "What time is it? My mum is gonna be worried sick about me!"

"If she asks, just tell her we were studying," Liz chuckles, wiping dirt off her jeans.

Lua places her hand under her chin. "But we were in the…"

"Shhhh," Liz interrupts her before sending her a friendly wink.

"You guys are the worst," Lua sighs.

The trip home isn't too long but without her friends, Liz's thoughts drift back to the exam, and worse how mad her parents will be when they find out she most likely flunked it.

She rummages around in her bag for her key, before her hand finds its way toward the lock. When she pushes her way inside, her parents are waiting for her in the entrance, arms folded.

"Where have you been? Your dad and I have been worried," her mum states, not taking her eyes off her daughter.

Liz furrows her eyebrows, fainting confusion. "I'm fine."

"We heard about the exam," her dad adds.

Liz pauses, only a quarter of the way up the stairs and sighs. "Great, and I'd forgotten about it until you had to remind me."

Her parents glance at each other before her mom puts on a smile. "Anyway, your dad has some good news," she says with an upbeat tone.

"What?"

(Good news to her dad usually meant something different to Liz)

"I have a contact in New Alexandria in District Three… it has one of the best schools in the country, and The Capitol has approved a rare opportunity to transfer you there in September."

Liz is suddenly shaking, her hands clenching the bannister tight. The air has been sucked out of her lungs. Julia and Lua flash before her eyes. She's never found it hard to make new friends but at the same time, friends aren't something she can just trade out like a new pair of jeans. Friends are supposed to stay for life.

Liz finds herself lost for words, and she disappears up into her bedroom, pushing the door shut behind her…

She loves her family dearly - they are her rock - but she loves her friends as well. Liz never imagined leaving them.

Brizio Nardolillo, 18

April 16th 2427

3 months Prior to the games

District Four

The midday sun roasts down upon the fluffy layer of sand on the beach. Under a palm tree, Brizio is busy at work, as he always has been. He often prefers to train for the games out here on the beach, instead of indoors at the academy. Not because he has anything against training indoors, he just never took too kindly to people yelling at him and telling him what to do. Not his parents and the crime syndicate that controlled them, and certainly not the trainers.

The young career hauls himself up above the pullup bar for the twentieth consecutive time as sand from the beach blasts against his tanned skin, and gets caught in his wavy black hair. Finally, his biceps give way, and his six-foot, wiry body drops back down onto the cushiony sand.

Panting and sweating heavily, the boy unscrews his bottle, takes a swig, and tosses it back down on the sand. Time to do another twenty - he thinks to himself.

Just then, he spots two figures marching towards him from across the beach. They are soon visible under the glaring sun. Drew and Fjord. Two hotheads from Brizio's academy. They begin circling Brizio, eyeing up his training station and smirking arrogantly.

Fjord, the taller, muscular one, clears his throat. "How's training goin' Nardolillo?" He asks condescendingly.

"If that's even your real name," his shorter friend adds.

Brizio narrows his eyes at them but says nothing, attempting to go back to his pull-ups. But unfortunately for them, the two idiots persist.

Fjord places his arm against the pole, blocking Brizio from continuing his exercise. Brizio feels his veins tighten; he clenches his fists and cracks his neck. Nobody is the master of his fate but him.

Fjord has dropped his smug smile and is now staring Brizio down, dead serious. "We wanna know why some nobody like you is in first place to be the volunteer this year."

"Yeah." Drew steps in to face him. "My family have been volunteering for half a century, and we have two winners. Who the fuck are you? We don't know anything about you."

"Trust me, it's in your best interests that it stays that way," Brizio responds, monotone.

(Some describe Brizio's voice as like a snake's, light and composed, but intense.)

The pair burst out laughing, bracing themselves on each other. "Whoooo, spooky," Fjord chuckles, waving his fingers in the air.

"You think you're so hard-core, why don't you prove it?"

Brizio inhales, letting out a deep sigh. "Very well, but if either of you gets hurt, it's on you."

Fjord laughs in his face, jabbing his fist out; however, Brizio's reflexes are lightning-fast. He casually tilts his head, tripping Fjord to the sand by using the momentum of his punch. A second later, Drew's fist is already hurtling towards Brizio's head; however, Brizio is prepared. He slides back across the sand, then leaps into the air, slamming his heel into his attacker's body with a flying side kick! The boy screams out as his ribs crack under Brizio's shoe.

While Drew clutches his ribs on the sand, his larger friend recovers. Fjord attempts a right cross at Brizio's head. Brizio smirks, catching the boy's arm. He then yanks him to the ground and plants his knee into Fjord's shoulder whilst hyperextending his arm.

CRACK

Fjord is left on the sand, holding his broken arm, red as a tomato.

"Try an ice pack… it might help with the pain," Brizio suggests, glancing down at them.

That evening, Brizio closes his apartment door softly after arriving home later than expected. The trainers gave him a good scolding about the fight, but they know deep down that he will be the volunteer this year. There's nothing they can do about it. The syndicates that run District Four have deemed it so, and not even the trainers can argue with that, if they know what's best for them.

Brizio quickly hops into his little apartment shower to rinse off the sand from the beach. Then, he heads back into his bedroom and pulls on a slim-fitting, smart, white shirt and black pants. He tucks a neat, black blazer over the top. As he finishes buttoning up his shirt, he strolls in front of his dirty, dingy mirror, then combs his hair back before plastering it with some gel.

The young career then fires his fingers at the mirror in the shape of guns, sending himself a wink at the same time. "My, my, you do look marvellous tonight."

His hand moves to tug his collar up gently, revealing the watch under his cufflinks. "Time to go."

Just then, his brother Tancred appears at the door, leaning on the frame. Since Brizio was fourteen, he has been Tancred's only guardian, ever since they escaped from their parents and their dealings. Brizio shifts his gaze to him, caught off guard.

"You workin' again tonight?" His brother asks, wrapping his arms around himself.

Brizio nods. "I'm afraid so."

He moves away from the mirror and places his hand gently on Tancred's shoulder. "I'll try not to be back too late, promise," he mutters.

"When do you ever keep your promises?" Tancred stomps his foot, disappearing back into his own bedroom.

Brizio's head sinks down on his shoulders. He runs his fingers through his hair, almost wanting to rip it out. But instead, Brizio takes a deep breath. His mind has to be clear for the task that awaits him. He's never entirely sure what that task will be, but Brizio always prepares for the worst. He always needs a contingency plan.

He shuts his apartment door behind him, strolling steadily across his street. The bright, yellow moonlight shines down upon the town, illuminating the street in splodges of occasional light which filter through the gaps between the houses, as if there are multiple stage lights placed on top of the stone roofs.

The neighbourhood is hushed too, with only the sounds of scurrying rats rummaging for food in the bins. As the young man turns down a narrow, trash-filled grey street, a sign comes into view at the very end under one of the rays of moonlight. In bold purple writing, it reads - The Moonlit Glass.

Brizio cracks his knuckles and adjusts his collar, then he holds his head up high and steps confidently to the door.

The entrance is more of a metal hatch than a door; it blends with the corrugated iron that the building is made from. Two tall, intimidating bouncers loom over the entrance, however, one look from Brizio forces them to unlock the hatch.

Inside, Brizio's ears are struck with the sound of a thumping base on repeat. A crowd of people, more than twenty, less than fifty, move their bodies to the music, and flashing, multi-coloured lights fill the room.

Brizio shoves and worms his way through the people, careful to avoid getting their drinks on his suit. Eventually, he squeezes his way behind the bar, nodding to his colleagues. His hands soon go to work, mixing, shaking, and pouring different cocktails together and sliding them across the counter to various customers.

The music suddenly halts and a spotlight flicks onto the stage. The Moonlit drag performance has begun.

As Brizio watches with the crowd, he feels a pair of arms around his waist. It's Etan; he greets Brizio by planting a quick kiss on his lips, and they stare into each other's eyes for what feels like a minute. Brizio would never admit it but he has fallen hard for Etan's green, glowing eyes.

"You working tonight?" Etan asks, his eyes scanning Brizio's suit.

"Yes, and that means you are too."

Etan downs a shot, slamming it down on the bartop. "That's right." He gasps out. "But I much prefer it when we're the ones performing up there, you know that. Although you look pretty good in a suit as well, I have to say." Etan gives him a wink.

Brizio stares at him blankly. "Who's the contact?" he asks.

Etan nods towards a gaunt, curly-haired man, perched in the corner of the bar, dressed smarter than Brizio. "That is Caspian Ulysses."

"I know of him." Caspian's brother was a career a few years back, and had something of a reputation. Something the trainers at the academy have attempted to push under the rug.

"He works with the Amberjacks."

(The Amberjacks own this bar, and so they own Brizio. Not that Brizio would ever say that if you asked him. Nobody owns Brizio.)

Brizio nods calmly, taking a sip from his cocktail; however, his lover tugs at his shirt. "Brizio, he's not to be trifled with, he bears a marker of the inner-table."

"We'll be fine."

Brizio takes a seat in front of the young client, and Etan hovers next to him on his feet.

Caspian slaps the metal marker down on the table in between them. A marker with a picture of a skull carved into it. The marker of the inner-table. Then, he hands Brizio a folder of papers, all containing black and white images of another man in a suit - their target for the night.

Brizio's eyes scan between the images, before glimpsing back up at their employer. "And what is your problem with this individual?" He asks, plainly.

Caspian shakes his head. "Doesn't matter. The blood pack demands his life. That's all you need to know."

The pair of mercenary's glance at each other with a smirk, then their eyes turn back to Caspian.

"Mr. Ulysses, in order for this to work, we need to know what's at stake here," Brizio says calmly, leaning in.

Caspian breathes in before leaning casually back on the couch. "As you wish. He has just succeeded his late father as the head of our main rival, but his ambitions go much further." Caspian's eyes suddenly widen with intensity. "In effect, if we leave him unchecked, he could have control of the entire east side by the end of the year."

"So… the usual," Brizio says, tossing the papers back down on the table.

Caspian nods, pointing to the papers. "The instructions on what to do next are inside."

Then he pushes himself to his feet, and Brizio follows suit.

"You're dismissed, we never had this conversation," Caspian states as he shakes Brizios hand.

Brizio bites his lip. He never likes being made to feel like an employee; he sees himself more as a… freelancer.

The pair of mercenaries make their way back behind the bar. Brizio peers around the bar then his hand discreetly retrieves his pistol, stashed in a locked cupboard on the left of the till. He attaches a silencer to it, pulling a pair of black gloves over his hands.

The instructions in the folder guide them through the rest of the night. They wait in a gloomy, misty street, containing the bar that their target visits every night. They do their usual party trick. Etan faints being a drunk idiot, distracting the man, then Brizio creeps up behind him, his footsteps are like a ghost's. He places the barrel of his gun against the temple of the rival mobster. He hesitates for a moment, but his thoughts remain on Tancred. If he doesn't do this then neither of them survive. When he wins the Hunger Games, they will be set for life. Never having to go hungry again.

His finger taps the trigger, there is only a ping, the silencer muffling any noise, and moments later, the target is in a heap on the street floor with a gaping hole in the back of his head.

Disposing of the body takes longer than the deed itself. But, the instructions take them to skip by the estuary leading to the bay.

"See you in the morning," Etan says, brushing his hands off after they dump the body. "I'll get the croissants."

In the silent street, he sends Brizio another wink before vanishing into the misty air. Brizio's heart jumps, and his eyes shift down to his watch. Midnight - looks like he'll be late home after all.

Yay we're back with the next three of unique individuals. Thank you Team-Shadow for Briar, Lily for Alizka and Daydreamer626. I really enjoyed these three, I hope you did too!