D4 M: Nathan Shore

Age: 18

. . .

"I volunteer as tribute," Nathan said with a drawl and a slight smile. As he walked up to the stage, he kept a confident swagger. It was time soon they would all see him for who he was.

He walked up onto the stage, and the District 4 Escort, Ariella Nostca."What is the name of our brave volunteer?"

He grinned before saying, "Nathan Shore and I will survive."

The Escort Ariella gasped before saying, "Well, look at that confidence. Can we get a round of applause?" His eyes drifted over the crowd as they cheered. These fickle people cheer for him now and whisper behind his back. How predictable.

It didn't matter, though; they wouldn't dare whisper about him when he returned victorious, wouldn't compare him to his father, or whisper about his past. They would not talk about him because of what he did to Callista. He would return as a victor, rich with his own money and make it so anyone would be proud to have the daughter marry him.

Yes, and it all started now, but before he could even enjoy the cheers, a familiar voice cut through the crowd.

"I volunteer as tribute." The voice belonged to Callista, that bitch, who always ruined everything. Ariella hadn't even begun to pull a name for the girls.

He saw Callista's slender, athletic-toned body start walking towards the stage; Standing at 5'6", she moved with the grace of a siren. Her sea-green, almost predatory eyes met his. Simmering with intensity, like the threat of a storm on the horizon.

Ariella cheered and said, "While aren't our tributes eager this year? What is your name?"

"Callista Fairwater, and I am afraid Nathan dearest won't be winning these games, even if I have to kill him myself." Nathan saw the fiery rage inside her eyes as he took her hand in a shake and replied in a cold voice, "Darling, if I drown, I am taking you with me to Davy Jones's locker."

He distantly heard the murmuring and jeers of the crowd. Callista tightened her hold on his hand, squeezing his fingers painfully. "You couldn't even pull my head under the water."

Her eyes were full of passion, and a spark which used to look at him with love turned deadly. The spark that he wanted to feel that she denied him repeatedly. The spark that her sister didn't have even for all her trying.

He dropped her hand and laughed, "Want to test that princess? I would love to hold you down."

Callista sneered, "I would rather gut you like a fish and see how handsome you are then."

He put his hands in his pocket before drawling, "Don't offer me a good time, Angelfish; you make a man want to kill himself, unlike your sister."

Callista snorted, "I don't see any men around here, only a little boy, who is going to be crying for Daddy soon."

He sneered, "Bitch," before he could continue, Ariella interrupted with a gasp. "Now, now tributes, this is the reapings. Keep the naughty langue till the arena."

He turned to their escort with an apologetic smile. "I apologize; Callista always seems to cause me the most inappropriate reactions with her hysterics."

Callista yelled, "Hysterics, hysterics, I'll show you hysterics." Suddenly, there were hands around his throat, and he and Callista were tumbling to the floor.

Before he knew it, he and Callista were fighting for control, and just as he was about to pull her hands off his throat, Finnick Odar was yanking Callista off him.

"That is all, the show is over till the arena," Finnick grunted out while restraining Callista.

"Motherfucking, traitorous bastard, I will gut you!" Screamed Callista.

"More like sisterfucker, hon." He said, taking perverted satisfaction and watching rage twist onto her perfect face. Watching her sharp and angular features that carry a permanent look of challenge twist into something ugly.

Ariella started yelling, "That is enough! Even if you are enthusiastic, you are from District 4, not 12! Stop right this instance."

Callista was finally calming in Finnick's arms and not trying to get close enough to kill him. Though her hands were pulled into fists tight enough, her knuckles were turning white. The sight of her docile in Finnick arms filled him with rage; Callista was never docile.

"Callista angelfish, do you realize now everyone knows what an insane bitch you are? Do you realize they all know you become hysterical because I rather fuck your big sister than you?"

Just like that, Callista was bucking in Finnick's arms, trying to get to him. Finnick gave him a glare that should have scared him but filled him with smugness as he caught a fist to a kidney.

Finnick ignored him, though and whispered something into Callista's ear. Callista tensed up before calming down at whatever Finnick told her. Finnick finally set Callista down on the stage and called out to the roaring crowd, "Again, the show is over; we need to get our tributes to the capitol. Now, tributes, shake hands so we can get this over with!"

He thought about provoking Callista again, but his head cooled, and he realized peacekeepers would be called if they started fighting again. No matter how much he enjoyed showing just who Callista really was, he wasn't stupid enough to be labelled a problem tribute.

No, he would draw Callista's death out; he would unravel her, punish her for running everything, and finally when she begged for the sweet relief of death and repented for all she had done wrong, he would end her life.

So he didn't provoke Callista again. Instead, he slowly took her hand in his and kissed it. "May the odds ever be in your favour, angelfish."

If looks could kill, he would be dead. For a half second, it seemed like Callista would try her luck against him, but all she did was say, "You take the odds and shove them up your ass."