Old writing from five years ago or so. More information at the end of the next chapter.

Blush Beaumont

District 1

The last night.

So now it's time. In twelve hours, at 11 am, the pedals will rise to the cornucopia and the games will begin. Truth be told, I do not have any idea of what kind of arena will await me.

I fiddle with my token, a silver hair clip from my mother; the only thing I have left from her. The wind is so strong that I'm almost afraid that it will grab the clip and throw it out in the Capitol. I probably should have taken a jacket, since I'm already freezing, but what is done is done. I will simply have to do with my loosely sitting T-shirt and jeans. Thankfully I was prudent enough to put my auburn up in a ponytail, so it didn't wave freely in the violent winds.

For sitting on a roof in the middle of the night, the top of the training center was much brighter than I first thought. There aren't any stars, sadly; the city light clouds them. I look over at Remus, his normal sullen face having a nice shade of blue from the lights and the shadows. We both decided to walk up to the roof alone. Why? I'm not sure exactly. We never talk. At least nothing that could be counted as a "conversation". All we talk about is business, which I'm completely fine with.

I look down on the Capitol, which is currently going wild to no one's surprise. People are partying and holding parades for their favorite tributes. The entire city is enough to light up Panem, as I'm constantly barraged by colors and lights. It's such a clear distinction from District 1, where it's pitch black as soon as the sun goes down.

District 1 is usually called the rich district - the Capitol, however, outclasses it in every way possible.

I'm confident I can come back to District 1 alive. If I want to stay there, however, is another question. I have never had good memories of District 1; which doesn't say a lot since all my memories are from that damned district. All I know is that I want to stay as far away from my old life as possible. Who knows, I might even try to move to the Capitol.

Even though my plan is planned down to the detail and I'm one of the most skilled tributes here (Casey and Suri don't count; their two giant targets on their backs destroy all their chances) I have to stay realistic. I might die tomorrow. Stronger tributes have died in the bloodbath. The most powerful henchmen have died on missions my father would call a "shopping trip". If there's something I'm grateful for from my father's tyranny it's the ability to always be on edge and always expect the worst. I can't be arrogant.

Sadly, keeping my confidence in check is almost always the hardest part.

"Tomorrow we might die," Remus mutters, morbid as always. He looks up, staring right in front of him with his ever-emotionless expression.

"Probably not."

"Who knows," he answers and then looks at me. "District 4 is planning something."

"I know."

"They don't like you; you'll be the first one to go once the careers split."

"And?" As much as I would want it to be another part of my master plan, District 4 disliking me so much wasn't something I had predicted. To be honest, I was a fool; with how I acted it's surprising they have publicly expressed their dislike for me. Guess everyone is on edge these times, and I was too used to the brash attitude back home.

"So what do we do?" he mutters again.

I shrug. "They're not stupid. They know that breaking the careers up early would be stupid."

Or at least, stupid on their part. I'm already planning on leaving the career as soon as possible. The only reason why I joined in the start was so I could get protection in the bloodbath and thin the herd in the beginning. Walking around with a bunch of idiots making loads of noise has never been the optimal strategy. As soon as I leave, hopefully taking another career down as I go, I'm going to start playing the game on my own accord.

I'm not sure how effective poison is in this regard. It's usually one of my trump cards, but this time I might just use it to coat my weapons. Alexi and Emerald won't eat anything I make, and so won't Remus either. I don't even know if there is any poison in the arena, to begin with.

Remus sighs. "It usually isn't this warm in District 1."

"Mmmh." Since District 1 is north of Panem, the summers are often cold and the winters colder. Or well, the summer is warm enough to have pool parties, but cold winds from the north are common. "Just another reason why I should have left that shithole a long time ago."

Remus raises his eyebrow. "I'm guessing you don't have a lot of fond memories of District 1?"

"I didn't steal the volunteer spot without a good reason," I say, not meeting Remus' eyes. "The district itself is habitable, but it's the people who live there who are insufferable."

Remus chuckles. "Can't say I disagree with you. The Capitol has been a nice breather from District 1."

"Oh? Not so happy about District 1 either?"

"It's ok," he mutters. "Just some bad memories."

"Anything worse than being the daughter of a crime lord?" I don't know if Remus knows my background, probably not, and I know it was risky to reveal it to him, but I saw the opportunity and took it. If I can show myself as vulnerable, even if just for a second, I might make him trust me and get him to tell me whatever he hides. The pen is mightier than the sword, and information is ammunition.

"If you could consider having your brother kill your sister worse, then yes."

I'm surprised, but I don't try to show it. Instead, I try to fake being worried. "Okay… wow. What happened?"

"Some people just can't wait for the games to satisfy their bloodthirst. I saw his smile when he was executed. Haunted me ever since. Who knows, maybe the games will make me forget them."

We're quiet for a solid minute, the only thing I can hear is the wind blowing. I'm carefully planning my next move, but Remus intervenes before I can come to any conclusions.

"Why did I even tell you?" he mutters in an irritated tone.

I don't say anything, looking down on my legs dangling on the ledge. It's a long way down; still shorter than the hole Remus has been able to dig himself into.

"I shouldn't have fucking told you," he grumbles and stands up. "That was a mistake."

I roll my eyes. "Why are you getting mad? I haven't said anything-"

"Because you're going to squeeze every single use of that information dry." His voice is venomous, something I never thought I would say about Remus and his icy eyes have been replaced with fiery fires. "I know you. I won't underestimate you. And you shouldn't fucking underestimate me."

He storms out, his platinum hair flowing freely in the air (it usually hangs in front of his eyes), slamming the door open. I'm quite surprised he reacted the way he did, but his burst of rage told me all I had to know.

I wouldn't be surprised if he had sat on that anger for quite a while. It was probably triggered by a hastily made decision to reveal his background; something he did just to get his anxiety let out. Being this close to the games he must have a lot of emotions bubbling in him.

People are so easy to read sometimes.

I could use it against him. It's a weapon, a trauma like that. Mentioning it at the right times must be a trigger for him, a way to distract him in the heat of the moment.

But that wouldn't be sustainable. Who knows what reaction he might have. Too unpredictable. Too risky.

And it's just unbelievably cruel. Using someone's trauma as a weapon is low, and when that comes from me of all people you know it's too far.

But it's a possibility. I just hope I never stoop so low.

I might be able to use it to get closer to him. Maybe I can show myself as someone who has softened a bit after hearing his story, or maybe I can craft a little lie that he can relate to. Faking emotions is easy, even if it's not always necessary.

However, Remus wouldn't fall for that. If we just ignored his suspicions against literally everything, I confess that he saw right through me during the train ride. He knows he can't trust me, rightfully so, so my trying to make advances on him would only raise his guard.

So I do what he would want me to do; forget about it. Who knows, maybe it will be important in the future, but for now, I'll simply just cast it aside.

Deciding that staying up anymore is useless and it's getting a bit too cold, I throw my feet onto the roof and stand up, turning towards the door. Once I smash the door open I walk straight to the elevator, pressing the button to call it up.

I noticed that the elevator was on District 4's floor, which is a bit weird. I expected it to be on District 1, since Remus just left, but either Alexi or Emerald must have done some late-night errands. If I had gone a minute or so earlier, I might have caught them. I might ask them about it later, even if that will make them suspicious.

I walk into the elevator, quickly clicking the "1" button to my left. The District 1 floor is unfortunately on the first floor, but thankfully the high-speed elevators of the Capitol will take me there rather quickly. Traveling with an elevator is… interesting. I enjoy going up much more than traveling down, as it feels less like you're falling. The only elevators in District 1 are in the academies, which I never went to.

For a moment I thought about stopping by District 4 and attempting to make amends. Getting some heat off me would certainly help me survive, as it would make sure I would be the one to betray them, instead of vice versa. But they don't already trust me, so I'm not sure if there's anything more I can do except stay out of their way. I can only hope that they are foolish enough to let me live long enough to enact my plan.

The elevator door opens and I silently walk out. The apartment is dark, only slightly illuminated by the light of the Capitol through the window. There's a faint smell of detergent in the air combined with some aroma left from dinner, and it's dead quiet except for the quiet ticking of a clock on the wall.

Happy that everyone has gone to sleep, I try to sneak as quietly to my room when I notice something in the corner of my eye. It's barely a silhouette, standing completely still like a mannequin. I instantly heighten my guard and become tense. Anyone except for those with a trained eye would miss it.

Thankfully, observance is one of my most honed skills.

"I thought you were asleep, Glass. I'm surprised you're up this late," I say, not bothering with whispering.

A quiet shuffle can be heard from the corner. "I was waiting for someone."

The lights suddenly turn on and my mentor steps out of her hiding place. Her brutal brown eyes pierce right into me, and I do the same. She has her chestnut hair let out free, a change from her normal ponytail. Despite being way more muscular than me, her biceps matching up with any other of the brutes in the academy, she is 5 or so inches shorter than me, losing all the intimidation that she would have had. But I have seen her games and she is one hell of a force to be reckoned with.

Also, she has an ingrained hate for those who don't follow the system and puts halts into her plan. So I, a rogue volunteer, am already first place on her shit list.

I raise an eyebrow. "Was the hide and seek necessary?"

She shrugs. "Remus told me that you were on your way down, so I decided to test your skills. I must say, I'm impressed. Doesn't change your inevitable fate in the arena though."

"I guess nothing can make a stubborn bitch like you change her mind."

"Why would I want to change something I'm right on?"

That's the dumbest take I have heard ever. "Because I have been playing this game like the back of my hand since the beginning?"

"There's a reason why we choose our chosen tributes after years of studying instead of just picking them up from the street." Glass walks between the sofa and the table, letting her hand run over the glass surface. I stay in my place.

"Does it look like I care?"

"If you're as intelligent as you say, you should."

"Holy hell, you're denser than I thought."

This is about how every argument we have goes. Next, she will probably say something about how I will regret this in the arena, like she is a tribute herself, and then storm into her room in anger. I probably would, because I would lose my sponsors if it wasn't that Chancellor was my mentor, who doesn't give a shit if I was the chosen volunteer or not. Even then, I would give up all my sponsors in the world if I had to lick Glass bots to get them.

"Says the criminal mobster," she says, burrowing her eyebrows. "We already know."

Well, it was about time. I'm surprised it took them so long for them to figure it out; I had expected a peacekeeper to pull me over back in the train. But I'm not particularly worried. After all, I'm here to leave that life behind, and if the Capitol has more than two brain cells they'll understand that.

"Took you long enough," I scoff. "However, if you knew anything about me, you would know I'm not an ordinary gangster."

"Doesn't matter. You do realize that by volunteering you have revealed your organization and it will all be gone when you come back?"

"Good, that's what I'm hoping for." Please let Glisten be safe he should be smart enough to escape but if he doesn't-

"You have also doomed your chances too. No chance they let a criminal win."

"They're smart enough to realize that me winning would be beneficial for them," I say. "I volunteered to escape that life, not help it."

If I'm being honest, I doubt they care if I'm a criminal or not. I'm even surprised that they even care about my syndicate; the reason I never told the peacekeepers about it was that they simply wouldn't care. Bribery goes a long way. Oh, and that they would probably arrest me. That too.

A flash of anger flashes in Glass's eyes. "You don't understand what happens when you win do you? Are you actually that naive?"

I roll my eyes. "The audacity you have to call me of all people naive-"

"They'll sell your body."

For once, I have nothing to say. My mind has been deprived of every thought, only darkness filling it.

"You know what happens to attractive victors. I can promise you, quite a good bit of your potential sponsors are future customers. It's a harsh truth that you have to accept."

"Bullshit. Everess has outlawed victor prostitution since the start of her term-"

"Those truly in charge don't give a shit about Everess." Her voice slightly wavers. "The only thing they care about is money. And if you try to refuse or tell Mrs. President they'll kill your family, and then you. You can't escape your fate now, you realize that? Trust me, I know."

"But that doesn't make sense." I try to steel my voice as much as possible. "How do you then-"

"I hate the Capitol if that's what you want to know," she interrupts. "I love my district, and the only reason I suck up to the Capitol is so my district can live comfortably. The Capitol themselves I don't give a fuck about."

I want to believe that Glass is lying. That she is only making this up as revenge for taking the spot. But I can see when someone is lying. Glass isn't a good liar. I know all her quirks and details to detect her lying. So if she didn't become a mastermind manipulator overnight, she's telling the truth.

I don't know what to do. Why am I even here if all I'm doing is chaining myself harder? From the ashes into the fire. And what am I supposed to say to Glass now? That she won? Because she did. But I can't say that.

So I simply scoff. "Whatever. It can't be worse than my past."

I storm off the scene, a change from our usual argument, and smash my door open.

Once I'm in, I take a deep breath. Despite my mind wanting to scream, I close my eyes and execute a few breathing tactics I have in case something like this happens. I won't lose my head. Panic usually means death in my line of work and I never had a reason to anyway, so this feeling is unusual. But can it be worse than my old life? The life I decided to enter a death match just to escape?

Yes. It is. Despite me having such a hard time accepting it.

I look around in my room, starting to feel dizzy. The air feels thick. Even if I would never admit it, now that I'm so far away, I miss Glisten. I miss his dumb-ass smile and obnoxious jokes. He could relate to me; something I almost never met. Those who did were almost always too weak to be of any use.

I walk over to my bed and cry in it for a few minutes. Tears stream down my face, a strange feeling. I let my negative feelings take over and if I didn't want to give Glass the satisfaction I would have let everything out.

Then, when it has been enough in my opinion, I stop crying. I brush off the tears and stand up, feeling renewed.

Already feeling better.

It was a good stress reliever. I'm already on guard again, checking the corners quickly so that no one has sneaked in while I am vulnerable.

Anyway, now that my head is clear, I can worry about my "freedom" later.

I have a hunger games to win.

Dania Whicker

District 9

A

Em

G

C7

Repeat.

It isn't the same as when you aren't feeling like the world is crashing down on you.

I miss multiple strings and I push the wrong frets more than once. I'm playing off time and I'm pretty sure the guitar is out of tune, but it doesn't matter. The soothing music from the guitar brings the much-needed familiarity, a sound I have attached to home ever since I was born.

I don't remember any songs. It's hard with the cloud of darkness that is currently occupying my mind. Today I might die. Yesterday, it felt so distant despite only being a day away. The games are a reality, a reality I never wanted to experience. But I did, and there's nothing I can do about it.

The temperature in my room is warm, but thanks to the ventilators it's not humid. Clothes are spread out all over the room, a disorder that is uncommon for someone like me, but I couldn't care less. Despite that, the entire room still has that unnatural clean fragrance that the entire Capitol has. It's almost disgusting. Everything feels so unfamiliar, so fake, so hostile. I know I'm on enemy turf, something I have known ever since I stepped off that damn train.

I'm sitting on the ledge of my bed on the morning of the games. I was able to convince them to let me keep the guitar from the interview, it was the only thing that let me calm down.

I have tried my hardest during the pre-games; despite that, it feels like I haven't done enough. I got a five in training, which was meh. When it was announced, my mentor Aryne congratulated me on it and I pretended I was excited, but behind the smiles I was disappointed. Why wouldn't I; I got the most mediocre score in the game. Anthony got an eight. If only it had gone as I had hoped and he had allied with me. Instead, I'm stuck with a twelve-year-old.

Who got a seven, so it's not like I can complain.

I continue to play the chord progression and decide to change it up a little. I let my fingers travel up the guitar neck, just feeling each sound when I change keys and fiddle on the strings. This is my natural habitat, my home. Suddenly I hit a chord, I don't know why, and the memories hit me like a meteor.

I start sobbing like there's no end to it. I miss home. I miss home so fucking much. I miss my father, my siblings, and my mother. I miss my friends, even with how stupid some of them could be. I wish I could just lay down and the next time I wake up it's I'm in my bed in District 9, just like any other day. The sun would be the one to wake me up, or my father's soft playing in the living room.

The guitar made a loud CLANG sound when it hit the floor after I dropped it, not having the willpower to hold it up even more. I don't want to accept that this happened to me; I just want to hope that if I ignore it it will go away. Of course, I know that won't happen.

"Are you okay?" I hear a voice ask behind my door.

All I can muster is a sob, and the door opens. Anthony is standing there, taking up the entire doorway, looking somber. He steps in lightly and walks up to me. He holds out his arms. I don't protest and embrace him as he holds me in a giant bear hug, warming me.

We stay so for a few hours before I pull away.

"It's scary isn't it?" He looks down on me. "All of this."

I don't answer, simply wanting to bury my face back into the pillow. Anthony sighs and picks up the guitar from the floor. He places it next to a chair and then looks back at me.

"Are you going into it?"

I look up into his eyes, my vision still blurred from the tears. "What?"

"Are you going into the bloodbath?"

I shake my head, knowing very well that fighting for the cornucopia is a sure death. Kris didn't need to tell me; I'm not exactly a genius, but even someone like me knows that it's too risky.

Anthony sighs out. "Thank god. I wouldn't have wanted you to go and get yourself killed."

"Will you go into the bloodbath though?" I ask, despite knowing very well what he is going to respond with.

"Yes," he answers without blinking.

"Despite you just telling me not to."

Anthony shrugs. "Well, I think our chances of survival are quite different-"

"Aren't you scared?" I feel the need to ask. "Considering how nonchalant you're about all of this."

Anthony raises his eyebrow. "Depends on what you mean. If you mean if I'm scared of the games, of dying, then I think everyone is to some degree. None really wants to die. If you mean the bloodbath, let's just say that I doubt I'll go out that early."

I nod, even if I can't help but believe that is what will be his downfall. After spending this last week with Anthony his pride has started to be grating, which I know will eventually come back to bite him in the ass. When it eventually does, I hope it isn't too harsh. Because even with Anthony's flaws, he's a good person. He's energetic and caring, someone who has made these last few days bearable.

If I don't win, I truly hope he does.

"Let's go," he says and starts going towards the door. "We should eat breakfast."

I jump off my bed, feeling better after crying. Or well, "better". If from absolute dread and despair to feeling detached from reality and anxiety could be considered as "better".

The escort, the stylists, and my mentors are already sitting at the table, eating silently. The sun is shining through the windows, almost blinding me. Food is abundant on the table, as always, but nothing looks appetizing. Just looking at the fat food makes my stomach somersault, but I know that in the arena I need every potential protein I can get.

Anthony takes his place next to the table and I take my seat next to him. I grab a sandwich together with some fruit. Usually,I would start the morning with a few pancakes, a delicious treat that I have had the pleasure to taste, eating anything more than the most necessary makes me feel like vomiting.

Despite not feeling hungry, I try to stuff as much food in me as possible until I feel ill.

Aryne gives me a worried look and puts down her fork. It's clear that she hasn't bothered to do her morning routine, her curly red hair looking like a giant mess. But to be honest, does anyone have time for a day like this? Except for the capitolites of course. It's their holiday after all.

She moves her eyes to Anthony. "Anthony, do you feel ready?"

Anthony puts down his toast and swallows nervously. "I think I do. I do feel ready."

"How about you Dania?" she says, switching to me.

I think a bit before answering. "No."

Aryne nods, not seeming to be surprised by our responses. "As long as you aren't in doubt, you should be okay. I'm not going to do some last-minute advice or pep talk if you're expecting that. Everything I have wanted to say I have already told you." She looks at our escort. "Anything you want to say, Cyrene?"

Our escort shakes her head and returns to her breakfast without saying a word. She's quieter than usual; normally she would just have one word-reply.

"I'll see you in an hour then," my stylist chips in, weakly smiling.

Aryne nods. "You should go and prepare now; the games start soon."

Me and Anthony nod, and we stand up from our chairs. In silence we make our way to the elevator, having nothing more to say.

Despite only having spent a few days in the Capitol, it feels weird that I will take this elevator for the last time. The elevator stops suddenly and the pair from District 7 steps in. They are quiet, even though the boy is looking quite frustrated.

I remember them both from when the scores were released; both of them got eights. Except for the careers, they are the most dangerous tributes out there. Two big contenders; two more people I have to look out after.

We leave the elevator on the first floor, at the reception. Guards are standing in front of the entrance, of course, as they wouldn't want a tribute making the run for it. Otherwise, it seems like just a normal day in the training building. If you can ignore the unimaginable sense of dread that is like a fog covering everywhere I go.

I have only been here for barely a week and has only visited the reception a few times, but it still feels weird leaving this place. This might be the last time I ever see any sort of civilization. It feels just so strange to think that this clean reception is the last glance of a normal life I will have.

"Should we go?" Anthony nods towards the hallway to our right, where the District 7 pair is already making their way. A large sign on the wall next to it tells us that it's the way to the hovercrafts, where we will be shipped off to the arena.

I nod, and we follow the Seven pair.

Eventually, we make it to a large open hangar. I'm immediately met with a sudden chilling wave, as I notice that half of the massive room is wide open to the outside. I'm surprised by the view of the Capitol. Giant skyscrapers surround us, making me feel smaller than I already was. Without a wall between me, I suddenly feel exposed to the might of the Capitol, overpowering me.

The hard steel floor isn't the kindest for my feet, but otherwise the "waiting room" seems quite nice. There are tables and chairs all over the place, and I notice that most tributes have already arrived. We are only waiting for a few people now.

For some odd reason, my feet carry me towards the edge of the waiting room and towards the outside world. Anthony follows me without questioning.

On the edge of the room, right next to the walkway to the hovercraft, there's a railing going from one side to the other. I peek over it to discover that there's a plaza right at least ffity meters under it. Curious capitolites peak up from the crowded square and suddenly I'm met with a bunch of camera flashes from their phones. I retract my head instantly.

I look over at Anthony, whose gaze is fixed on the large skyscrapers in front of us.

"I guess this is it," I say, for no particular reason. "This is the end of the line."

Anthony sighs. "Maybe it is. But there's no good in thinking like that."

"Hard not to," I sigh, leaning against the railing, and burying my head in my arms. I almost feel like throwing myself over the ledge, down to the plaza with all the capitolites, just to get rid of this aching pain in my stomach. But there is probably a force field just like on top of the roof, and I'm not that suicidal.

"I just want to go home," I mutter, a bit too loud.

Anthony sighs. "We all do, but for some of us I guess we really need a miracle to make it out." He pats me on the back and smiles. "But don't worry; if I have learned anything from watching the games, is that miracles happen more commonly than you think. You have a strong will, Dania. I have no doubt you will fight until the very end."

I'm not completely sure exactly how reassuring those words were, but I know he is trying his best and I sorrowfully smile back at him. Suddenly, his light-hearted face turns serious without warning.

"Also, Dania. I have a thing to ask from you," he begins. "Mainly, when we get into the arena. Avoid me."

"Huh?"

Anthony shrugs. "I'm going to do everything in my power to win. When I mean everything, I mean everything."

I take a step back. "Are you saying that you are going to kill me?"

"Not if I don't have to," Anthony says without breaking eye contact. "I don't want to kill you. But, if we both happen to get to the final eight and we meet, then it is too far into the game to take any risks. I have a family back in District 9, a sister, people I will kill to see again."

"Well I have a family too-"

"We are in the hunger games Dania. We can't afford to think like that."

That's the horrible truth sadly. I quickly shook my head to snap myself back to reality. No matter how true it might be, taking another human life is such a horrible, disgusting, irredeemable act. It's unforgivable. I'm not going to sink to dog eat dog, killing for survival-

But.

I want to see my father again.

Just one more time.

"It goes both ways you know," Anthony continues. "If you cross paths with me, kill me."

"You know I can't do that-"

"But I want you to do that!" Anthony cuts me off, almost pleading. "I don't want your attachments to destroy your chances of survival. I want you to fight me with everything you have, or at least try to. But please, just try to avoid me if you can. Because I will try my best too, and you know how a fight like that would end."

My head is hurting I do not want to think about this why- "Can we stop talking about this? It is making me feel sick."

"But do you understand where I am coming from?"

"Yes," I answer reluctantly, just to make him stop.

"Good," he says. "Well then, I am going to meet Noelle before we launch. Good luck, and as they say, may the odds be in your favor."

With that he turns around and walks away, leaving me to process what he just told me.

At first, I'm not sure if I'm supposed to hate him or not. He literally said himself that he is not going to hesitate to kill me. When a six-foot man whose biceps could crush my skull without my problem is saying it you truly believe it. But, for some reason, I don't. I'm afraid of him of course; who wouldn't? But he doesn't hate me. If he did, he wouldn't have warned me. He has no other reason for doing so other than he actually cares for me.

Or so I have decided to believe.

Calm yourself.

Considering this is probably the last time I will see him, if I am lucky, it's useless to worry about his intentions anymore. I have to focus on what's in front of me first and foremost.