Alizka Ito, 15

Tribute's Free Day

10:30 hours

Alizka wanders across the vast, open, glittering halls of the Capitol History Museum, staring up at the archways lined with gold. She'd never seen anything like this back in Eight - the landscape covered in little more than grey smog and factories.

In another life, Alizka would be painting her surroundings, and splashing it with colour; it would make the perfect picture.

It was Meilin's idea to come to the history museum, it wouldn't have been Liz's first choice, but if it helps Meilin and the others feel a little better about tomorrow, then it's worth it. If Meilin brought the group together, then Liz has to be the glue to keep it together.

Most of the objects and ornaments on display are vehicles, clothes, gadgets, and machines from a bygone age, and are so far removed from anything Liz has ever seen. Some of the objects appear so old and rusted that they look like they're from an ancient civilization, while others appear more advanced like they're from another planet. Either way, Liz isn't interested enough to read the plaques to find out more - she can't see that it'll contain anything that might help her tomorrow.

Realising that she's lost sight of Meilin, the girl from Eight darts her eyes around the museum until she spots the small girl on the other side of the hall. Her ally is entranced in an exhibition titled 'The Ancient City of New York.'

Liz hurries over to Meilin's side, promptly realising what she's so fixated on - an ancient, rusted, yellow car with the word 'taxi' above it.

Meilin begins enthusiastically reading the plaque, "it says here that they believe these taxis had an ancient cultural or religious significance to that civilization," her eyes meticulously scan the plaque.

Liz lets out an exaggerated but playful yawn, tapping her mouth with her hand.

Meilin quickly stops reading, then rolls her eyes at her ally and crosses her arms.

"I'm just messing with ya." Liz laughs, lightly punching her shoulder. "What were you saying?"

"I know, I know. We can go to the art museum afterwards," the Three girl chuckles. "Might give you some inspiration to paint one of your future projects," she smiles.

It's at that moment that it dawns on Alizka - Meilin is still convinced her plan will work. She believes wholeheartedly that they're all leaving here alive, and they'll go back to their lives in their districts, and everything will be the same as it was before they left.

(Liz herself isn't innocent of this mistake.

Hanging out with her allies, like they are her friends back home, almost made her forget what is going to happen tomorrow.)

The upbeat girl from Eight abruptly loses her smile, and her friend takes note of it. "You okay?" she asks.

Liz sighs and begins tracing her foot on the floor. "Actually, there's uh… something I wanted to talk to you about. It's about your-our plan tomorrow…"

"Yeah, of course! Anything!"

Liz takes in a breath. "It's just… how do I put this? The three of us are on board, sure, but what about everyone else? We haven't got enough time to convince everybody. I-I just don't want you to get hurt or… killed tomorrow-"

"I know. I know." Meilin raises her hand adamantly. "I've thought all this through, don't worry. I was gonna go over it when Day and Meridian get back. They give us a minute standing on our podiums, right? That'll give me enough time to explain to everyone else what I explained to you guys-"

"You're gonna convince them on the day?"

"Uh-huh… It's gonna work, they'll listen, if it means we can all live… they'll realise what I'm saying makes sense. They will. Then when the countdown reaches zero, we'll stand perfectly still, and the others will follow our lead, okay?"

She wants to believe Meilin is right more than anyone, but she also fears what The Capitol will do to her if she doesn't fight. She knows that even if by a miracle they let her live, she'll never see her family again, but if she tries to fight, and win, she may have a small chance.

(Yet, Meilin, Day, and Meridian are all people too, all with families of their own. If she wins and they die, there's no way she'll be able to just forget them. They're imprinted on her life now.

It's like she's a rope, and she's getting pulled in two ways in a tug of war.)

Meilin's smile radiates in Liz's eyes, as she awaits the Eight girl's response.

But all Liz can do is awkwardly rub the back of her neck - if she cares about Meilin, then she has to come clean and be honest with her. "Mei… I'm sorry but it's not gonna work," the words hurt her to say.

Meilin's eyes sink. "But… but you were onboard with it, you said it was a good idea…" she murmurs.

"I was being nice… I thought it was helping you feel better about everything. I should have been more honest with you from the beginning, I'm sorry."

"I get it," Meilin says, enthusiasm returning to her voice. "In over one hundred years it's never been done before, but that's because no one's tried it! It'll work, trust me, it will. You have to put your trust in people. I know it can be difficult in the world we live in, but that's all the more reason you have to!"

Liz can't deny that the plucky girl is determined - she could probably convince someone that North was South if she believed it.

Meilin's eyes widen, and she hugs her arms around herself, pleadingly.

"Come on… don't give me puppy-dog eyes," Liz chuckles.

"So, you're still with me?"

"Alright," Liz holds her hands up. "We'll give it a try," she concedes, unable to say no to the girl.

But when it inevitably goes wrong in the arena, as Liz knows it will, she'll run straight for Meilin, and get her out of harm's way. She'll be there for her.

Just then, Meridian and Day return from the bathroom. Liz leans over, whispering in Meilin's ear, "they seem to be getting on better today."

Both the Fives have been quiet all day; they seem apprehensive about tomorrow, as they should. They're no less nervous than Liz is, but Liz is dealing with stress in the same way she always has - by joshing around with her friends.

"What do you wanna do now?" Meridian mumbles with a shrug.

"I know!" Liz pipes up, her allies' eye's all shift to her. "Why don't we see how far we can get without getting tased? First one to get tased loses?"

"Liz!" Day bursts out in a giggle. "Be for real right now!"

"Oh come on… it'll help to take our minds off things," Liz begs.

"It will when they're being electrified, that's for sure!"

"Electrified? Is that even a word?" Liz has now turned tomato red from laughter.

(For the Free Day, each of the tributes were fitted with a taser collar around their necks, so that if they travel into unallocated areas that they are not supposed to, they get tased, and dragged back to their apartments.)

Meridian raises his hand. "I got an idea. Since it's our last day… why don't we all do something that makes us happy?"

Meilin looks at Meridian with proud eyes. "Great idea!"

Thus, after making a stop at the art museum per Liz's request, the alliance spends the rest of the afternoon in Three's apartment, doing whatever makes them happy.

As the hours tick down, Liz's heart pounds more aggressively in her chest, knowing what awaits tomorrow. She distracts herself by lying on the sofa in Three's apartment with a sketch on her lap, whilst occasionally chatting to her allies.

Meilin is sitting on the floor against the sofa, her eyes are lost in a science book, but she's passing on her favourite facts to Meridian, who is perched beside her.

Meanwhile, on the other side of the room, Day is peering into the oven, checking on some cookies that she's baking for the group.

The sound of a timer going off rings in Liz's ears, causing her pencil to slip on her sketch. Day re-enters the sitting room with a tray of cookies. They hand one straight to Liz, then Meilin, and then, after some hesitation, they offer one to their district partner as well.

Liz begins munching on her cookie, trying to ignore the butterflies in her stomach that are eating her up from the inside. Her eyes travel between her allies; in a perfect world Day would be a baker, Meilin a scientist, and Meridian could figure out what he wants to do in due time. She wishes from the bottom of her heart that they had met under normal circumstances. Although, under normal circumstances we wouldn't have met at all - she thinks.

She only knows one thing for sure - her heart would be pounding a lot faster if she didn't have her allies around her, and nothing but her own thoughts to keep her company.

Liz swallows down the lump of tears forming in her throat; she knows deep down that she can't allow herself to get too close to any of them, yet she is.

Reese Haricot, 15

Today, Reese isn't himself.

In any given place, usually the first things to jump out to Reese are the rays of sun cutting through the shadows, or the smiles and laughs of people wandering about him. But today, everything just seems so dark, dull, and empty - despite Reese being in the middle of a bustling Capitol Street.

When Reese was reaped, he saw this endeavour as another adventure. Sure, it would have danger, but the light always shines through in the end, especially when the darkness has lingered for so long; it will only shine through brighter. Even so, the echo of the words of his mentor has been the only thing circling his mind all day - "You're gonna be forced to kill other kids in front of the whole country."

How can the light shine if I've become the darkness itself?

"Do you think it's a good idea to leave them alone?" Chaney's jovial voice and silly smile drags Reese out of his thoughts.

"Huh?"

(Auren, Briar, and Jarvis are still in the coffee shop, ordering their drinks. Reese elected to pass on coffee because it tastes too bitter for him, and Chaney also passed because he said it makes him "hyper.")

"Briar and Auren… or Brauren, as I've decided to call them," Chaney responds.

"Oh right, yeah… give them time. I'm sure they'll warm to each other eventually. Why? Are you worried about Briar?"

"Nah, I'm more worried for Auren, to be honest," Chaney smirks. But then, he frowns upon noticing Reese's unusually non-cheery demeanour. "You okay, dude?" Immediately, the tall, lanky boy seems to mentally kick himself. "Oh, yeah, what am I sayin'? Of course you're not…"

"It's okay." Reese places his hands in his pockets and leans against the wall. "Usually I'm not one to be sc-" He prevents himself from saying the word 'scared'. "- To fret. I'll be brave in the arena, promise… I'm just having a moment." He manages a weak smile.

"It's not always about being brave, dude. Trust me, I'm scared shitless."

"Wait, really? You don't seem like it…"

Then, Chaney speaks in the most serious tone Reese has ever heard him use, "Listen Reese, in the arena, if I tell you to run, I you need to run. Can you do that for me?"

"But…I-"

"Just promise me."

"Okay," Reese nods, and now he begins to wonder if there's more to this goofy boy than what's on the surface…

(Perhaps, not too different from himself.)

Chaney shrugs, and casually leans against the wall next to Reese. The fidgety Nine boy then begins repeatedly tossing one of his day tokens in the air and catching it neatly in his hand.

(All the tributes were given a set number of tokens to spend on things in The Capitol throughout the day - like food and drinks.)

"So… you said your mum was sick and you looked after her. What about your dad? Where was he?" Chaney ponders, flipping the token in the air again.

Reese's eyes fall down to his feet. "He…I… I never really knew him. He left a long time ago…"

Chaney catches his token and pauses, his eyes study Reese for a moment. "Yeah, they tend to do that. It sucks, I know."

"Yours's left too? I'm sorry," Reese says, his eyes flash back up at his ally.

Chaney nods.

"Why? Where did he go?"

Chaney shrugs again and goes back to playing with his token. "Don't know. Don't care."

"You're not even a little curious?"

"If he didn't care about me, then why should I care about him? Besides, I'm pretty sure the answer will be disappointing," Chaney counters.

"I guess…I'd still like to know … I think," Reese says, gazing off into the distance.

"You know, I have this saying..." Chaney's smirk returns to his face. "If people don't belong in your life - they see themselves out. If they do - they let themselves in."

Reese's face grows bright for the first time all day. "Does that mean…you and Briar let yourselves into my life?"

"Well… when you put it like that it sounds weird," Chaney chuckles, and Reese soon does the same.

(Suddenly, Reese feels more himself again.)

"But yeah, I reckon you totally woulda fit into our crew," Chaney continues. The boy flips his token one final time, but this time it bounces off his hand and lands on the concrete. As he's reaching down to pick it back up, Reese notices a shining, silver bracelet, from a Capitolite that they ran into earlier, around his wrist.

"Did you steal that from that Capitolite?" Reese blurts, his eyes widening.

Chaney straightens back up with a puckish smile on his face. "No…I just borrowed it… without asking… and with no plan to give it back," he says. This time Reese bursts out laughing, holding his belly with his hand.

Chaney flips the token into Reese's hands. "Keep it. Get something cool," he says with a wink.

Just then, Briar, Auren, and Jarvis return, with hot drinks clasped in their hands.

"I can't believe how long that took… I mean…fuck," Auren groans, blowing on her drink. She looks particularly ticked off, even for Auren. "Those fuckin' Capitolites wouldn't leave us alone."

"She's been like this for the last half-hour," Briar sighs.

Reese starts laughing again, maybe it's Chaney's bracelet shenanigans combined with Auren's grumpy demeanour. He's not sure, exactly.

"What?" Auren groans.

"Maybe they wanted to be your friend," Reese cheerily suggests.

Auren rolls her eyes and shakes her head before taking a sip from her drink. "So… what do we do now?"

"There's urm… a theme park nearby. Maybe we could check that out?" Jarvis proposes.

"I don't know what that means but it sounds fun!" Chaney exclaims. He looks to Briar for approval, but she simply shrugs.

"Ah fuck it," Auren relents. "But if any of you puke on me, then I'll be pissed."

And so, the group begins strolling on through the street to the theme park. "Actually, now that you mention it… I am feeling a bit queasy," Chaney jokes. He holds his stomach, and faints discomfort.

Auren eyeballs him. "Don't even think about it."

Reese smiles again, and runs to catch up with his allies, dodging through the Capitolites.

They banter and bicker all the way to the theme park under the noise of the crowd, and the watch of the Peacekeepers.

Reese and Chaney enthusiastically dash to the first ride, which rises several feet in the air and twists around on itself like a strand of DNA. Neither boy is sure what to expect; before now, they've only ever heard of theme parks in tales from far-off lands. But to Reese, that's the point. In adventures, you never know what is around the corner, or over the hill, or across the stream. Reese has rediscovered what makes him… Reese, and it's all because of his new friends.

(He's never had any friends before now.)

Chaney sits next to him at the front of the ride while Briar, Auren and Jarvis sit behind them on the back seats.

The cart picks up speed and zooms into the air, and the wind batters against Reese's bright hair. Chaney throws his arms out and hollers at the top of his lungs; Reese soon joins in, laughing along the way.

Reese can see the light shining through again, and the shadows are kept far away. It turns out that the challenges of life are much less dark when we face them together.

Jokull Askeli, 18

Jokull tugs and fidgets with his taser collar, the constriction around his neck aggravates him greatly. Jokull resents being subservient to others at the best of times, but at the worst of times, he'll let others believe they have power over him - it's a way of survival that he learned the hard way in the orphanage.

He quickly checks the GPS map on his wrist to make a note of all the places that he'll be zapped by his taser collar for going to; not that there aren't peacekeepers guarding every street around the tribute accommodation anyway.

Ozias told Jokull to meet him and Ren at the cafe opposite the tribute accommodation at ten in the morning. Although, he doesn't care if he's late - the only thing he's early for in life is the finish line of a race.

A bell rings above the cafe door as Jokull enters. Two peacekeepers are guarding the inside of the cafe. The boy from Six calmly walks past them, and immediately spots his two allies - they are sitting at the front with two coffee mugs face down on the table. Jokull raises an eyebrow, intrigued, then heads over to them.

Ozias gives Jokull a cheerful smile upon noticing him. "Ah, my favourite saboteur!" He throws out his arms jovially.

"Your only saboteur," Jokull responds, coldly.

"That's what makes you my favourite," Ozias winks.

Ozias' use of 'my' makes Jokull's blood boil inside - like Jokull is some minion to be summoned.

He takes a seat by the window, opposite Ozias, and with Ren to his right.

"Do you like games, Mr Saboteur?" Ren asks with a grin.

Jokull's heart picks up. I love them.

"I'm partial to them." Jokull begins rolling out a cigarette on the table; since this is his last day of freedom, he might as well indulge in a few pleasures while he can.

"I'm guessing a kid like you has dabbled in poker before?" Ozias asks.

Jokull nods.

"Okay then, here's a game like poker which requires no chips, no nothin' - just a cup and a few dice," Ozias says, lifting up his mug to reveal five dice underneath. "It's called liar's dice. I picked it up from some of the other inmates in Fourteen."

Jokull chuckles eagerly and leans back on his chair, placing one of his feet on the cushion of his seat. He already knows what Ozias is trying to do - he wants to get a read on when Jokull is lying. But his mistake is thinking I'm trying to hide my past and not my intentions.

"I like the sound of that," Jokull laughs. The laugh seems to infect Ren, who proceeds to cackle.

"You bet on everyone's dice," Ozias starts his explanation. "The objective is to catch someone's bluff or fool the other person into wrongfully accusing you of bluffing."

"I see, I see… what are we betting on?"

Ozias cracks a smile. "Anything, but we're going into the games tomorrow, so our options are limited."

"I just kicked his ass on the last round," Ren butts in, rubbing his hands. "My price is I get first dibs on our spoils from the bloodbath."

Ozias rolls his eyes.

"And what are you betting on this time?" Jokull asks.

Ren drops their smile and his eyes become more sadistic. "I get to select our first victim."

Jokull shrugs. "Agreed." His eyes move to Ozias. "And what about you?"

"You finally tell me why you volunteered. That means, I want answers and not more riddles."

Jokull finishes rolling his cigarette, and pulls a lighter, that he bartered from a Capitolite, out of his pocket. "I already told you."

"I said I want answers and not lies."

"But… isn't the game called liar's dice?" Ren interjects. Ozias shoots him an impatient look.

Jokull begins snapping the lighter with his thumb to light his cigarette. "You'll find the answers are often hidden in plain sight." He takes a drag of his cigarette then intentionally blows the smoke in Ren's direction. Ren coughs, and fans away the smoke with his hand before turning red and shooting daggers at Jokull.

Jokull can't help getting under Ren's skin; watching his ally's cheeks flush red with anger is too entertaining for him.

"You know, your whole mysterious guy act has… diminished a little since they shaved your head for your interview," Ren sneers.

Jokull rubs the back of his now-shaved head - it's true, losing his wonderful mane was akin to losing a limb. His nails trace the now-exposed tattoo of a talon on the back of his neck.

"But, if you want, you can ask me the same question again," Jokull continues, turning his attention back to Ozias. "Or I'll let you ask anything else about me. You don't look like a kid that ain't got no imagination, and I'm telling ya - why I volunteered ain't the most interesting thing about me."

"Ok…" Ozias shifts in his seat, intrigued. "You better be ready to have your secrets spilled when I inevitably win. What are your stakes?"

Jokull inhales more smoke into his lungs before breathing it out. "Mine's simple - I wanna take the third shift each night. I'm more of a night owl you see - can't sleep after midnight."

His allies explain a few additional rules to him, for example, each time you bid you have to increase the value of dice or change the face value.

Jokull shakes the dice in his mug before placing it face down on the table to conceal them. He lifts the mug up a touch to sneak a peek at his dice. It's not a great start - the highest amount of one face he has is two threes, and the highest value he has is a five.

Ren starts out with a wild bid - four fives, not too high that it's a certain bluff because if Ren has at least two fives, then there is a high chance that Ozias has the fourth.

They go clockwise to Jokull, and he finds himself a little stuck. "Four threes," he says.

Then it is Ozias' turn. He checks under his mug. "Five threes," he says with a smirk.

Ren giggles. "I think I've just decided on my first target in the arena. Five fives."

That was a great move by Ren. Jokull clenches his fist under the table. But then, he realises that he truly has nothing to hide about his past. He's sitting with a murderer and a serial killer who helped turn his victims into pies and then served them to his customers.

Ozias begins chuckling maniacally as he looks into Jokull's defeated eyes. "My guess is: it was desperation that caused you to be here. Debts maybe?"

Jokull takes a final puff from his cigarette and laughs back at the Fourteen boy. "Of the three of us, I'm the only one that wasn't a. Incarcerated or b. On the run when I volunteered. So who's the desperate one here? Six threes."

"Liar," Ozias gloats, and the three of them reveal their dice. There are not six threes on the table, so Jokull has indeed lost this round.

"Alright, well done. Ask away," Jokull says, calmly leaning back on his seat.

Ozias ponders for a moment, placing his hand under his chin until he finally arrives at his question. "What is the worst crime you've ever committed?"

Ren giggles again. "Good one."

"Murder," Jokull answers without hesitation. His two allies are a little taken aback at his sudden calm openness.

"What did you do?"

Jokull casually puts out his cigarette before quickly beginning to roll another. "I burnt down my orphanage with everyone in it."

The image gives Ozias, in particular, a cold sweat. Ren also looks a little shocked.

"Oh I'm sorry, I thought I was sitting with the world's most deadly barber and the dentist from hell, but I apologise if I've offended either of you."

"Oh shut up… you snarky little shit," Ozias growls.

Jokull laughs and lights his next cigarette. "Again?"

"Wanna get beat again? Fine by me, and I get to ask you another question when you lose."

"Fair enough."

But this time, after casting their dice, Jokull grins inside after peeking under his mug. He begins the bid confidently. "Two twos." He looks at Ozias. "Your turn, boss."

Ozias smirks. "Three twos."

"Five twos," Ren bids.

Then it is Jokull's turn again. "Five sixes," he declares.

"Ha, liar. You really thought we'd fall for that?" Ozias gloats.

Jokull cheekily lifts his mug to reveal four sixes and two twos. Ozias lifts his mug to reveal himself to have the fifth six. Having lulled them into a false sense of security with his two twos, Jokull just won the game with his sixes.

"Hidden in plain sight," Jokull smirks.

"Very clever," Ozias snarls back.

"Yeah, enjoy your boring price of getting third watch, I guess," Ren says dismissively.

"Thank you."

"I like you Jokull, you're a smart cookie," Ozias says condescendingly. "But that also makes you a threat, and I'd hate for it to get in the way of things between us."

"I scratch your back and you scratch mine. Ain't much else to it," Jokull responds.

"Let's hope not."

"Only one of us can win, let's not forget," Ren adds.

That evening, when Jokull is at last alone, he attempts to cleanse himself of the mere mention of what he did that night at the orphanage by standing outside on the balcony and allowing himself to be drenched by the torrential rain.

The night of the fire, he was so fixated on his plan, that he didn't even consider the most important part of it - his brother. The irony is, he was only ever doing it for him.

"Aki!" Jokull cried the name of his brother, who was on the floor, being stomped by a gang of older kids.

"Get off him!" He charged down the orphanage hall, leaping upon the largest, scariest boy of the bunch and tackling him to the ground. Jokull let out a cry, and relentlessly began pummelling the boy in the face with his fists until it was mangled and gushing with blood.

However, Jokull was promptly dragged off of him by several members of his gang. They proceeded to slam him on the floorboards then hit him in the face and kick him in the ribs endlessly.

Aki slipped away as Jokull took the beating, and Jokull himself only just managed to escape with his life.

Later that evening, in their dorm, under nothing more than the orange glow of candlelight, Aki was attempting to nurture Jokull's injuries with a damp cloth.

His brother wrung the cloth and placed it over Jokull's bruised eye. "Why did you do that?" He sobbed. "They could have killed you."

"Hey, it's what big brothers are for," Jokull smiled meekly.

Aki reached over and wrapped his arms around his older brother.

They sat together for a moment, in silence, Jokull's belly rumbled under his cracked ribs.

Aki suddenly shook his head. "They won't stop, not until you're dead, and then me. How can you protect me if you're dead?"

"I don't get it," Jokull said. "I've been stealing food for Jackson and his goons for weeks. They were supposed to protect us from those thugs. That was the deal. I have their symbol."

Jokull rubs the recently imprinted tattoo of Jackson's gang - a vulture talon.

"They're in cahoots," Aki said with a sigh. "They've been using us."

Jokull clenched his fists tight, rage burnt inside of him. He didn't want it to have to come to this, but he's been left with no other choice. "Meet me downstairs at midnight tonight."

"What are you gonna do?"

"End this once and for all."

Brizio Nardolillo, 18

The mood is sour amongst the careers on the day after the interviews; a bitter taste hangs over them in the lounge of the Tribute Apartments. From Brizio and Romulus constantly locking horns like two bulls in an endless battle, to that inmate from Fourteen revealing Emery's secrets - things quickly look to be falling apart.

While most of the careers are seated, Brizio paces up and down. He is wearing a slim, smart black jacket, matching his jet-black hair, which is neatly slicked back with gel.

The Four boy halts his pacing and raises his eyebrow when Romulus re-enters, who has changed into an almost matching, smart, black jacket.

"Nice jacket," Brizio says as his District Two counterpart stops in front of him.

"Whatever." Romulus rolls his eyes.

To everyone's surprise, Emery enters the room, his hands tucked sheepishly into his pockets. The rest of the careers shoot up from their seats in unison.

"You've got some guts showing your face here, after your pal's interview yesterday," Meridia hits out.

Emery pulls his hands out his pockets in anger. "And you're gonna just believe that nutcase? Of course he'd be tryna' drag my name through the dirt, this is what he wants," he counters. "Let's just say for a second it's all true, I've helped to kill a bunch of people, so what? Isn't that what we're supposed to be doing? Isn't that the whole point of this?"

"Now hold up a minute," Romulus cockily steps into the centre of the group, a smirk extending across his face. "I wouldn't be so quick to judge our friend Emery… I'd be more worried about some of our own," he says.

"What are you talking about?" Aida questions, almost defensively.

Romulus swivels around to face Brizio. "Are you gonna tell 'em or should I?"

Brizio remains silent. With empty, threatening eyes he glares at the Two boy, like he's about to calmly tear his head off.

But Romulus is unphased. "It turns out, Brizio is a little more than your average career. In fact, he was a bit of a shady dude back in Four… a mercenary for some of Four's mobsters."

Aida looks at her district partner. "Is this true?"

Brizio nods, keeping his cold eyes on Romulus. "I didn't do it for me, I had to find a way to put food on the table… to keep my brother alive. But I'm not the only one with secrets, am I? We all have a deep rotting core that we don't want out." His gaze stings into his various allies, and Aida is the first to divert her eyes down.

"Alright, alright," Landon sighs. "I confess… when I was a kid… sometimes when I was out shopping with my mom, I'd sneak tons of things into the cart when she wasn't looking, and she'd buy them without realising. Alright, I came clean, who's next?"

The group descends into awkward silence, mostly attempting to crack up at the jesting One boy, although they do their best to ignore him.

Geneve moves into the centre. "Okay, okay. It's clear there's a lot going on here," she says. The One girl's stance and voice are the most confident it has been since Brizio first met her. "I don't think anyone should have to leave the alliance, since we can't be sure whose word to trust, but I think we should elect a new leader-"

"Great idea! Finally, you're seeing some sense," Romulus exclaims.

"...who isn't you or Brizio."

The brash boy from Two clenches his jaw. "Who would you suggest? Let me guess, you?"

"Actually, maybe that wouldn't be such a bad idea," Brizio interjects, deciding he'd rather have this drama off his chest.

(A much more urgent issue is weighing on him like he has a ton of bricks on his chest.)

"You all good with that?" Geneve asks, circling around to face her various allies.

Nods and murmurs of approval follow, and in the end, even Romulus relaxes and seems to warm to the idea.

"Excellent!" The One girl exclaims, a satisfied smile touches her lips. "Glad we've put that case to rest."

The air mostly clears from the room. However, Brizio quickly locks eyes with his rival from Two, and they both know it isn't over. I'll take care of him later. All in good time.

Brizio turns his gaze to Emery, they exchange a mutual nod. With both their deepest secrets out in the open, they have nothing to hide from each other. Although gross, Brizio has some admiration for the pie maker's antics - having no love for the Capitol himself.

Brizio moves closer to the Ten boy. "Still fancy going out for food?"

Emery smiles, his cheeks flush red. "I thought you'd never ask."

Rain patters down on the streets of The Capitol, as the red sun dips behind the towers of concrete.

The downpour rapidly picks up tempo, so Brizio ducks into the lounge of the Tribute Apartments. As he heads to Four's apartment, his euphoria is replaced by a stark fear in his gut about what awaits him for the rest of this evening.

(He hasn't felt fear like this since his first few contracts back in Four.)

He swallows back his nerves, and pushes the door open to his apartment.

It is almost pitch-black inside, and silent. The only sounds to be heard are Brizio's own breaths. Aida must not be back yet - He thinks.

The light emitted in the room is a single lamp on the dining room table - it casts a yellow light over an envelope in a dish. Brizio frowns and walks over to it. So, this contract wasn't some sick joke?

He hesitantly opens it, slipping the note into his hand. It reads - "Mr Nardolillo, your assignment is to be completed before 23:00 hours." The young man glances at the clock - 20:00, then he continues reading. "Meet our contact, Vandemast, in the basement of the building for further instructions. You will know her when you see her. Good luck, fortune will favour you tonight."

Brizio is struck by a wave of fear but also confusion. Vandermast?

None of this makes sense but he has to move quickly, for Tancred's sake.

The mercenary arrives in the basement faster than he's ever arrived anywhere before. It is a plain white kitchen, where he imagines all the food for the tributes and their teams are prepared. As expected, someone is waiting for him - a woman in a chef's outfit. She has dark skin and eyes… eyes that remind Brizio of someone else.

The woman repeatedly and nervously taps her foot until she notices Brizio.

She sighs in relief. "At last, you're here."

"You must be… Vandermast?"

"Ugh… why do they insist on using that name? Call me Esther."

"Very well."

"We don't have much time." She heads over to a dishwasher, which turns out to be a safe in disguise. She taps her fingers on the combination, then takes out a small, metal case and snaps it open on the kitchen counter in front of the bewildered Brizio. Without a second to lose, she hastily starts explaining his mission to him, before he can ask why she has the same surname as the boy he'd been dating today.

"Listen to me very carefully." She pulls a minuscule yellow and red tablet out of the case and holds it up between her thumb and finger. "Inside this tablet is the most radioactive substance on Earth. President Storm has a personal doctor, named Dr Claude, who delivers her medicine once a week."

Brizio takes the poison in his fingers and examines it; he's not used to having this much power in the palm of his hand. He always imagined that he'd like it but it turns out, he doesn't.

Next, she hands him a photo of Dr Claude; he gives the photo a quick once over, so he knows what the doctor looks like.

"Dr Claude arrives from District Three and stays at Ides de Mars Hotel. One of our associates will shut off the cameras at nine o'clock-"

"And you want me to replace her real tablet with this," Brizio realises aloud, still staring at the poison in his hand.

Esther sighs, looking him up and down with sympathy in her eyes. "We'll be with you every step of the way," she reassures him.

Two people in dark suits then arrive in the kitchen. They begin working to remove Brizio's taser collar and his tracker. While they are doing this, Esther takes him through a few extra details of the mission, like how Dr. Claude is only away from his case containing the medicine when he goes down to the hotel bar, so Brizio will have to break into his room to do it, and he will be disguised as a Spec Ops Peacekeeper to get in.

"You'll also be given a key card for the room," Esther finishes.

"Your gear is in the closet," One of the associates informs him sternly. "Now, hurry - we're already behind schedule!"

Brizio is shoved towards the closet in a flash, he hasn't felt this powerless since before he left home. "Wait," he says, turning back to Esther. "They probably have endless assassins at their disposal… Why me?"

Esther bows her head and looks away. "They always get what they want," she mutters.

Before Brizio can respond, he is forced into the closet. He retrieves his purple Spec Ops peacekeeper uniform and quickly changes into it. He hands his original clothes to one of Esther's associates before they take him outside the tribute apartments, where a pitch-black car is waiting in the deluge.

The journey to the hotel is mostly silent, save for the downpour of rain against the front window and the windscreen wiper.

Esther's misty eyes reflect off of the car window in the direction of Brizio; each time her reflection makes eye contact with him, he becomes surer that she has the same eyes as Emery.

The car screeches to a halt outside the hotel. Brizio pulls the peacekeeper helmet over his head.

"Remember we're with you the entire way," Esther reassures him as he steps onto the street, but he doesn't get enough time to ask the most important question - "what do I do if I'm caught?"

"Great," He mutters to himself sarcastically. "Just assassinate the President of Panem, why don't you? While we sit back in our fancy car."

As he makes his way up the steps toward the hotel, his lungs pulsate in his chest like they have a pump attached to them. Just breathe. You can do this. It's just another job.

The Peacekeeper at the entrance of the hotel holds out his hand. "Hold it, Sir."

Brizio clears his throat, doing his best to put on a commanding voice. "I'm an escort for Doctor Claude, if you've got a problem with that then you take that up with your commanding officer."

Luckily, the white-uniformed Peacekeeper doesn't want the trouble, so he gestures for Brizio to enter the hotel.

The young assassin marches inside, squeezing between the Capitolite guests. He hovers in the shadows, just outside the bar, but not close enough for the other Spec Ops Peacekeepers spot him.

Anxiously, the boy checks the clock - nine-fifteen. The cameras are off. Where is he?

Then, Dr Claude emerges from the corridor of rooms. He takes a seat at the bar and hastily orders a drink.

It's now or never.

Brizio wastes no time. He darts for the elevator, and presses the button to the third floor for room… What was it? 3-9-1? 391, yes that was it.

PING

He steps through the elevator doors, then briskly turns right to find the door to room 391. The assassin's hand fumbles for the key card but he just manages to scan the door without dropping it.

When inside, his heart is thundering in his chest, his breath has steamed up his helmet, which makes it hard to find the doctor's briefcase.

At last, Brizio's heart rate slows a little upon discovering the briefcase in the top drawer. But he wants to scream when the poison tablet slips out of his hand as he attempts to produce it from his pocket.

"Shit!" He hisses, dragging his hands across the carpet to find it. He's forced to go by feel because his helmet has almost completely steamed up.

Relief! His hand finds it. Standing back up, he hastily replaces the top medicine tablet with the poison, closes the case, and then returns it to the top drawer.

What have I done? The career doesn't really have time to contemplate the answer - he's not out of this yet.

Brizio bolts for the door, storming back into the corridor, but closing it as gently as he can. His trip down the corridor to the elevator feels a lot longer than it probably is, as he tries to maintain a steady pace - so as to not seem suspicious.

However, the boy freezes in dread, when the elevator doors open to reveal the President's doctor standing at the bottom; luckily the helmet conceals the shock on his face.

He mouths very faintly, "Sir…"

The man steps past him, after giving him a quick once-over.

As soon as the elevator doors shut, Brizio is out of the hotel in the blink of an eye where his pickup is waiting.

Everything moved so fast after that. Brizio has no time to collect his thoughts as he's ushered back into the basement of the Tribute Apartments. He doesn't even want to think about what just transpired… it all went too smoothly.

His clothes are still in the same place that he left them. He wastes no time in changing back into them - when he removes his helmet, the career boy gasps for air, like he has just surfaced from water.

Once changed, Brizio heads out into the kitchen, but Esther's two associates hold their hands up to stop him.

"What more do you want?" Brizio demands.

"Loose ends," one states.

Suddenly, the sound of two shots from a silenced pistol echoes through the room. The two associates gasp in surprise, their bodies become limp, and they drop dead at Brizio's feet. Behind them, Esther holds a gun, which was hidden under a table cloth.

"What's happening?" Brizio pants.

"They were gonna pin the whole thing on you and use you as a scapegoat," she replies. "I couldn't let them happen."

"Fuckin' double-crossers… I shoulda known!" Brizio spits on the bodies.

Having no one else to trust, Brizio assists Esther in hiding the bodies to buy them some extra time.

As they are carrying one of the bodies, a question that has been plaguing Brizio's mind all day, slips out of his mouth, "You're his mom, aren't you?" The middle-aged woman stares at him, surprised. "Emery's, I mean."

She nods, solemnly, and they dump the body behind the closet doors.

I knew it. "He joined our alliance… the careers."

Mrs Vandermast's eyes grow wide, but then her mouth forms a subtle smile. "That's my boy," she says proudly. "Are you two friends?" She asks.

Brizio tilts his head. "You could say that." He lets out a chuckle. "I can't believe I met his mom… I'm never gonna let this down."

"I can see why he likes you," she laughs.

After they have finished hiding the bodies and dusting themselves down Brizio asks "what happens now?"

"Get back to your room, double time, you were never here," Esther responds.

Despite all the questions Brizio still has, he knows she's right.

"What about you?"

"I'm gettin' as far away from here as possible." She offers out her hand, and Brizio shakes it.

"Good luck in there," she smiles.

"Thank you." With that, Brizio steps towards the kitchen door.

"Oh, and Brizio…"

The Four boy glances back.

"Look after my boy out here, will ya? He's a good kid, deep down, no matter what that sicko said at the interviews."

Brizio answers with a stoic nod, then flees back to Four's apartment faster than he fled from The Bonannos and his family, the day he and Tancred ran away from home.

(He could almost see his brother, running beside him.

He should be beside him.)

He closes his apartment door behind him like nothing happened; maybe he'll wake up tomorrow morning for the games and this will all have been a dream. He'd find that more likely than the night he just had. He knows he should be terrified; they just made him kill the President of Panem, but strangely he feels relief flood over him. They've already put him through the greatest test of his life, so what more can they do to him? He's ready for whatever they have to throw at him.

Phew. Sorry if Brizio pov was longer, I just had a lot of story threads to tie up. Next chapter will be the night before then an interlude then games begin. Bye!