Hello...anyone home? Sorry I took so long to post an update, but it's finally here! (Don't worry, this isn't going to be one of those stories that posts District 1 and then never posts again. I just did not receive any District 2 Tributes, so I had to enlist a friend of mine to make these tributes. Sorry to anyone who was preparing to make a D2. Anyways, all the initial tribute's perspectives will be in first person, but I could always switch to third person after the goodbyes, I really don't care which, but the poll on my bio is still open, so vote for that! It will close by the time the goodbyes are posted, so get in there quick!

Enjoy!

Also, some thank-yous are in order.

Thanks to livinginadream0, Dante Alighieri1308 (hope I'm spelling that right), and an unnamed guest for reviewing!

Thanks to Audmirable, Dante Alighieri1308, SakuraDreamerz, livinginadream0, and that unnamed woman for following!

Thanks to MoonlightSalsa and SakuraDreamerz for favoriting!

Thanks to my unnamed friend for Justin and Lyric!

I think that's all for now, so without further ado...

Chapter 3: District 2: Ready for Battle

Justin Caddel's POV

I smile and grin as Florencia works my shirt off. Her eyes flick over my body, and as she leans in for another kiss, she stops and grimaces.

"What's that?" she asks, pointing at my burns.

I look at her curiously. "Burns."

Florencia raises an eyebrow at me. "On second thought, I really should be going."

She stands up, pulls her jumper back on, and steps out of the room. "Bye," she says awkwardly, and disappears out the door.

I pause. Damn. Again! This always happens! Every time! Then there's a knock on my door and for a second, I think it's Florencia, back for another shot, but then Lachlan Hale steps into the room.

He holds up a piece of paper and scribbles something on it, then shows me. Two columns. Win for Justin, and Loss for Justin. The win column has one tally mark in it, whereas the loss column has about twenty.

I throw a pillow at him. He dodges, and flops down on the bed, aware and uncaring of my half-naked body. I pull the blanket over me, and say, "Can I have thirty seconds to myself after the scars of my trauma scare away another beautiful girl?"

He grins. "No."

"You're an asshole."

"You're a loser. Can't argue with the data!"

I grab for him, but he dances out of reach. Lachlan smiles at me.

"Well, I took the time to ask Camila on a date."

"You WHAT!"

I grab him and drag him over to me. He thrashes and squeaks, but smiles. "For you!"

I release him and he slithers to the floor. "What did she say?" I ask, pulling on some pants and a shirt.

"She says," he holds up air quotes. "'In a world where you can win the Hunger Games, I'll go out with you.' Eh?"

"So," I say, the wheels in my mind turning. "All I have to do is win the Games?"

"Yeah!"

"When? Did she specify?"

"No. Just 'Win the Games'."

I stand up and smirk at him. "Let's do this."

I rush downstairs, and out of the door. To the reaping.

"Where are you going!" yells Lachlan behind me. "JUSTIN!"

But his voice fades into nothing. I'm going to win the Games.

Lyric Solace's POV

My brother has always been better than me. Always bigger. Always stronger. Always faster. And I am constantly reminded of that. Always his pictures up on the walls. Always his height being far higher than mine. He was taller than me at age five than I was at seven. Always having to watch his Games on the TV. Always having to watch over and over as he smashed those two girls from 9 and 5's heads together and thrown their bodies off a cliff. Always having to watch as the trumpets sounded, as he let out a victorious yell. Always. Always. Always.

But not today. Today, I will volunteer. Today, I will wave my friends goodbye. Today, I will begin my journey that will lead to the Capitol, the Hunger Games, the finale, and to the win. Goodbye, being overshadowed. Goodbye, being forgotten. Goodbye, being weaker and smaller and slower and dumber. Goodbye, all those times I've been called "Glory's little sister!".

After today, Glory will be nothing. A relic of the past. "The 78th Hunger Games?" they will say. "Aren't those the ones Lyric Solace's brother won?" Yes. Lyric Solace's brother. Perfect.

Then I can forget. Forget all those years of being forgotten, ignored, looked down on. Forget all that abuse. Forget stupid Glory choosing to move into that stupid house in stupid Victor's Village with his stupid girlfriend instead of me. Forget him. But he won't forget. He will remember having to watch all those replays of my Games on TV. Having to watch all my boyfriends marching, day after day into and out of my house. Having to be yelled at by that girlfriend of his, "Why can't you be a better Victor? More like Lyric!"

Then she'll leave him, and he'll come crawling back to me like the leech that he is, and I'll say, "Sorry, bro. No room in my house, I'll need it for my husband and I." Yes. Husband. For the first of those brainless suitors to get down on one knee will be met with a "YES!" and then we'll have a huge marriage, and we'll be like those long-dead losers from District 12, the ones that Victor Cato killed, only better, and we'll have kids, loads of gorgeous kids, and the Capitol will love them so much they'll never go into the Games, and we'll live happily ever after. And Glory'll be so upset that he'll die of shame, and his funeral will be small, forgettable even, and then the priest will say-

"LYRIC! GET THE HELL UP!"

No. That's not right. The priest'll say-

"LYRIC! IF YOU DON'T GET OUT OF BED RIGHT NOW, I'M GONNA GO UP THERE AND WRING YOUR NECK!"

I jolt awake with a squeal. My Reaping clothes lie on the bed in front of me. What time is it? Oh god.

I throw the dress on, slip on some heels, and rush off down to the kitchen. Waiting for me are Mom, Dad, Fury, and - him. He is there, at the table, dressed in a casual buttoned shirt and bleached jorts. I collapse weakly to the floor. Fury rushes over to me and catches me before I fall and smash my head on the wall.

I overview the situation. Dad was obviously the one shouting, as his neck is red, and he looks stressed. Mom's lips are tight and pursed, and she is squeezing her hands so tightly together they are going white. Fury looks scared, his face the picture of concern, his black floppy hair pulled back in a bun. He sits calmly, watching everything with an amused expression. But there was something I didn't see. Her. She is there too. Wearing a green dress that shows far too much, looking at me as if I was something she found on her shoe.

He has the audacity to speak. "Come on sis, it's reaping time!" I give him the angriest glare I have ever given someone. He ignores me, and smiles at Fury. Fury looks, well, furious, but he is not deterred.

He turns to my parents and says, "Thank you for the tea, Mr. and Mrs. Solace."

Mr. And. Mrs. Goddam. Solace. How could he? Mom looks heartbroken, and Dad's lip quivers. Is he going to cry? No. He is strong, and he watches as they leave.

"Well," says Mom in a shaky voice. "It's time to go to the Reapings."

The Reapings. I take my mother's hand. "Come on. Let's go."

Fury pats me awkwardly on the shoulder. "Yeah. We don't want to be late."

District 2 Justice Building

Justin Caddel's POV

Lachlan and I file into the 16-year-old section, winking at Camila Avery, and as we do, I tell him my plan. Enrol for extra lessons at the Academy...

"Welcome District 2!"

...work my way up through the ranks...

"Happy Hunger Games! And may the odds be ever in your favor!"

...win the Crucible and get selected to volunteer at eighteen...

"Ladies first!"

...Volunteer...

"The female tribute for District 2 is..."

...lead the Careers to victory and win the Hunger Games!

"Delroy Chill!"

"I volunteer!"

Lachlan and I turn to the volunteer, to see who it will be. Then our hearts drop simultaneously. It's Lyric Solace. Lovely Lyric Solace, who always invited us to sit with her at lunch. Lyric Solace, who beat up Lachlan's ex when she went feral on him. Lyric Solace, who always defended us. Lyric Solace, my friend.

She looks around, as if hoping another volunteer will appear out of nowhere so she can beat them up.

"Oh, my word!" says our Escort, Lacey Swann. "A volunteer! And what would your name be, dear?"

"Lyric Solace."

The words ring out through the square, and she steps up to the microphone. "Glory, this is for you!"

She raises her left hand, and for a second I'm terrified that she'll do that stupid District 12 salute that almost got Victor Cato killed on the Victory Tour, but no. She lowers all of her fingers except for the middle, and smiles proudly.

There's a babble of shocked laughter. Then it gets louder. Then suddenly the entire square is laughing, and Lyric is still flipping off her brother.

The camera zooms in on his face, and he is bright red. Tears pool in his eyes, and he rushes off the stage, crying.

Lyric smiles, says, "Love you, bro!" and steps back.

Everyone is laughing so hard that they don't notice the next name called. Lachlan Hale.

My bookish friend screams, and two Peacekeepers drag him out to the gravel path up to the stage.

"No! No! Please! Justin! JUSTIN!"

Without hesitation, I grab one of the Peacekeepers and drag him back.

"What do you think you're doing, kid?" he snaps, and as Lachlan is thrown roughly onto the stage, I look around hopelessly for the designated volunteer, and realise my friend is doomed.

The volunteer is Kronos Sage, victor of the Crucible that year and pompous asshole, through and through. And I am sure that he will be perfectly happy to miss out on his chance at victory to see his favorite target killed.

Swann is just putting the microphone in Lachlan's face when there is a yell of, "I VOLUNTEER!" I look around, ecstatic for the source of the yell, and realise that everyone is staring at me. It was me. I am the yeller. I am the volunteer. I am going into the 83rd Hunger Games.

Lachlan is now in tears, and rushes towards me with a scream of, "No!" but the Peacekeepers hold him back. He is screaming, loud, high-pitched screams. I think dreamily that the whole scene reminds me of the Girl on Fire's reaping where she saved her sister. She was screaming as well.

"No! NOOOO! Justin!"

I step wordlessly up to the microphone.

"DON'T! UN-VOLUNTEER!" Lachlan screams, but one of the Peacekeepers sock him in the stomach, and he collapses to the ground, moaning.

"Wh-what would y-your name b-be, dear?" whimpers Swann.

"Justin Caddel."

"Okay, Justin. Well, that's enough for now. The both of you, shake hands."

A bemused-looking Lyric extends her hand, and I shake it roughly.

"Alrighty, then!" Swann says. "Anyone who wants to say goodbye to our tributes before they leave, please step up..."

The last thing I see before the ornate wooden doors close in front of me is Lachlan and Camila, shoving the crowd aside to reach me, before they slam shut and I am alone.

A/N: Phew, glad that's over. This was a difficult chapter to write, as I didn't want to make it too similar to District 1's Reaping, as they are quite same-y. Sorry to my friend for having to change some things around for their characters, but I trust you will like them. Thanks for reading, sorry I haven't updated in ages, but I am working on some new chapters. Feel free to drop a D5M or a D4F, as I don't have either of those, but yeah!

I hope you enjoyed this chapter. I certainly did!

See you all in the next one. Bye!

-Luke