I do not own any of the characters featured in this story. All credit goes to Fresh TV and Suzanne Collins for their original creations.

CHAPTER 3

Two teens walked along a hallway. A girl with blonde ponytailed hair, and a large boy matching her hair color. Eventually they reached the elevator of the apartment building, and the girl pressed ground level.

It's the first day of the Training Center. And it starts at ten. But they're arriving at a much earlier time. Specifically nine. Why? Because they've been offered into an alliance by One and Two. And who do those two districts usually team up with? Four.

The girl looked at her district partner. He wore a worried look, biting his lip, and fidgeting with his fingers.

It's obvious he's nervous. But she asked anyway, "Nervous, Owen?"

"Oh, out of my mind!" Owen exclaimed. Then he looked at her with a perplexed expression.

"But uh, I didn't think you'd accept the offer, Bridgette." He scratched his head.

Bridgette chuckled. "Yeah. Didn't expect it either."

Instead of laughing it off, Owen continued to look confused. And utterly worried.

"But… why? I mean back at Four– you're not exactly a big fan of… all this." He said, his tone seeming unsure. "You do know what happens if we join the Careers, right?"

"Of course I know what'll happen."

"So why?"

"..." She pursed her lips. She's hesitant in telling him her reason. But she's dying to tell someone. And, Owen's her friend. Even before getting reaped, they've known each other.

"Can I trust you, Owen?" She whispered, looking down at her feet.

Owen blinked. "Of course you can trust me!" He blurted out.

Bridgette smiled. Yeah. She trusts him. Her head snapped to look at him, eyes filled with determination. "I'm not really gonna be on their side." She said carefully. "I'll use this chance to keep an eye on them, while I help the other tributes in need."

Owen's eyes were wide upon hearing this information.

"You don't have to join me," Bridgette softley looked at him. "But I will appreciate it if you don't rat me out."

"Oh, no, no," Owen shook his hands. "I'd never do that to ya, Bridge!" He tells the truth. Then he starts looking dubious, like he wanted to say something. Eventually he did. "Let me help you."

The elevator door opened, and revealed a giant gymnasium, filled with different kinds of obstacle courses and an array of weapons.

Before they enter, two people pinned a square cloth on the back of their shirts, with the number four imprinted on it.

On the right corner, near the shooting range, they spot District One and Two.

"Okay. Thank you, Owen." Bridgette whispered. She was glad she had someone on her side for this. Owen nodded. And together, they make their way towards the Careers.

Upon coming closer, the male from District Two approached them. "Ah, District Four, welcome." He showed a charming smile, and reached his hand out for a shake. "I'm Alejandro Burromuerto. And you must be?"

"Bridgette." She shook his hand, giving him a small smile. But not a genuine one. "And this is Owen," she gestured at Owen, who greeted him hi and waved awkwardly.

"I see. Pleasure to meet you." He kissed her hand. Bridgette swore that the girl from District Two, and the boy from One, scoffed at his gesture.

"Hi I'm Lindsay!" A girl with blonde hair and big blue eyes jumped in front of her, taking her hand to shake. Then she moved onto Owen, where she gave him a big hug around the neck, making him blush in the process.

Someone took her hand again, this time it's the boy from One. "Justin," He purred, flashing her a smile. She hates to admit it, but she felt so flustered, and had to avert her eyes. "B-bridgette," she stammered.

He lets go of her, "I know." He shoots her a wink.

Then there was a loud groan. Looking past Justin, it came from the girl from District Two. She rolled her eyes. "Enough with the flattering, can we just get this over with?"

"Ah, of course, dear Heather." Alejandro answered her in a mocking tone. "Ugh." She cringed at him.

"What say we all demonstrate our skills first?" He clasped his hands. "That way we can see which one of us gets to stay, and which ones deserve to leave." He singly looked at Justin while saying that part, and then back to everyone again.

There seems to be some tension between the two of them. Bridgette figured what she'll make out of that later. Because for now, she has to prove her worth to stay. In order for her plans to work, about secretly sabotaging them for the benefit of the other tributes.

…

More and more tributes fill the gymnasium as minutes go by. And Bridgette can feel all eyes are on them, as they demonstrate their skills with their desired weapon.

She was good with a trident. Being able to wield and throw it. How so? Almost every kid at Four was trained on how to use it. For spearfishing, and as a weapon.

She and Heather got similar fighting styles, with Heather being wickedly proficient with a spear. Able to throw it off at long distances, and hit the target mark. She's agile and quick on her feet– just like Alejandro.

He however, was good with a sword, landing hard blows on the target dummies.

Bridgette gets the feeling that Alejandro's not very fond of Owen, she can tell by his little comments– that are actually backhanded questions– that he's not approved of his size, and thinks he'll just be dead weight on the alliance.

Good thing Owen proved him wrong. Because despite his size, he's actually very strong. He demonstrates this by lifting two large medicine balls– located on the weight-lifting section– in each hand, and was able to throw them accurately at targets. "Impressive." Alejandro comments.

Justin and Lindsay however… are probably not the most skilled on their supposed desired weapons. She wouldn't call them bad, but she wouldn't call them great either. Lindsay's always a fifty-fifty on the bow and arrow, and Justin seems awkward at using the sword.

Compared to Alejandro and Heather, they can't compete. Well, maybe aside from their looks. That's probably their main strategy. They did so well at the Tribute Parade, whereas she and Owen looked more like snakes instead of a fish. With their costume being scales, and in the shade of brown. It didn't attract much attention, and they just got weird looks and a few laughs from the Capitol citizens.

Ugh. Bridgette shook her head, trying to forget the embarrassing moment.

…

They used their time from nine to ten for physical training only. During that hour, they all successfully showed off their strengths and abilities. And in the end, no one was really voted off the alliance.

Eventually the head trainer called everyone over to explain the training schedule, because almost all tributes were present now, despite it still not being ten.

After that, Alejandro dismissed them, telling them to go on ahead and use the last hour to check the other stations they want to learn about.

Even though there was no voting, Bridgette's pretty sure he's the leader of this alliance now. Whether some may disagree– which she can tell– she doesn't think anyone else can take his place.

Because for one, no one else seems capable. Heather's too arrogant, Lindsay's not the brightest, Justin focuses too much on himself, Owen's a humble guy, and she's a pacifist.

While Alejandro, he's charming, infuential, and formidable. He's the best fighter amongst them too. Heather coming close. That's something to watch out for.

Her thoughts were interrupted when Owen nudged her on the shoulder. "Wanna check the sources of food? We might encounter some poisonous stuff."

"Yeah," Bridgette smiled, "let's check that out first."

…

Two teens walked along a hallway. Though this time, it's a tall girl with a long black bubble ponytail, and the boy she was with, matching her hair color. Now on the elevator, the boy pressed ground level.

It was silent. Until they reached the gymnasium.

Even though they arrived exactly at ten, everyone seems to be already there, with it being quite loud and full of action.

They could hear arrows whizzing through the air and spears being thrown across the room. The sound of swords clashing rang out as some people practiced fighting. Others were grunting as they went through obstacle courses, climbing and jumping. In some corners were what appears to be stations, as told in advance by their mentors.

There were a bunch of small groups of tributes gathered around the different kinds of stations, listening to instructors talk about survival skills like– how to tie strong knots or build a shelter.

Everywhere you looked, someone was either training or learning something.

A square cloth was pinned on their back. Nine.

Their mentors said to listen to the head trainer, so they could get a much better grasp of the training schedule, the rules, and explanations. But it seems that was already over. So they had to figure it out themselves.

"Where do you wanna head first, Sierra?" The boy asked.

But Sierra ignored him, and he watched as she went her own way.

"O…kay, then." He shrugged. Then sighed. He didn't know Sierra back in the district. So he wanted to get to know her here, to form some sort of camaraderie. But he didn't get any chance.

She was non-stop crying when she was reaped, as well as during the train ride. And if you try to comfort her, she'll smack your hand or run away to her room.

But then on the chariot ride, before they exit the doors of the stable, she was wearing a massive scowl and was mumbling to herself. Then, as if there was a switch when they exited the doors, she beamed with joy, waving at the Capitol crowds– blowing kisses, throwing compliments, and surprisingly– they loved her for that. Then after the parade, she was back to her scowl and the ignoring everyone attitude.

He's not one hundred percent sure what's going on in her mind, but he is convinced she's playing a strategy. A smart one at that. And if he isn't too detested by the Capitol, he probably would've matched her energy during the Tribute Parade, maybe even earn a few sponsors from it.

But no, he just stood there watching them with a concerned and loathful expression, thinking how they could cheer for something like this.

Going back to his consciousness, he decided to check over the nearest station. There were a total of six people watching another tribute try to create a fire, with the instructor by his side guiding him.

He was spinning the stick back and forth between his hands, on a flat wooden board, surrounded by dry grass and leaves. After a while, smoke started to rise. Seeing this, the tribute– a boy from District Ten– carefully blew on it. And a small fire appeared.

"I did it, eh!" He looked at the instructor, who only nodded at him.

"Alright, who wants next?" The instructor asked.

The boy from Ten returned with the rest of the group, and nudged the shoulder of the girl who was beside him. "Give it a try, eh Beth? It's not that hard." He told her.

Looking at the both of them, they were so small. Probably only at the age of twelve to thirteen. Noticing this, he felt awful.

The girl from Ten, Beth, nodded, though looking nervous about it. But before she could raise her hand, a girl from Five beat her to it. "Me." She called. And the instructor gestured her to come over.

"You get it now?"

Looking on his left, where the two tributes from District Twelve.

"Uh… I think so?" said the boy with blonde hair. "But I kinda wanna give it a try." He shrugged.

"Okay." The girl with pale skin replied. "But I'll be at the shooting range. See you there."

"Gotcha." He nods.

Huh. The shooting range? He wonders. Unknowingly, he starts to trail behind the Twelve girl, as he figures that learning the bow and arrow could come in handy, and that it's good to avoid close combats that may approach him.

About half way to the shooting range, the girl suddenly stopped in her tracks, making him stop as well.

"You following me?" The girl turned her head around. "Or are we just going in the same direction?" She raised a brow.

"Oh–" He didn't notice he was following just right behind her. "Sorry, yeah– we– we are…" He stammered.

"I'm also heading for the shooting range." He explained. He hoped she wouldn't think he's some sort of creep.

"Hm." The girl replied, and continued on her way.

There were two more other people practicing there. If what he thinks is right, they're Careers.

Yep. Upon coming closer, it's the girl from District One and Two.

He figured he should move to the very far end of the shooting range, away from their area. But the Twelve girl positioned herself just next to them. Exactly just beside the girl from Two, who gave her a side eye, and scoffed.

Wow. He thought, surprised and impressed. He didn't expect a random tribute– let alone from Twelve– position herself to practice side by side by a Career.

So now instead of practicing at the far end like he originally planned, he decided to practice beside her.

"Aren't you intimidated?" He asked.

"A little." She replied, grabbing a bow and checking the string. "But that shouldn't be a reason for me to let them take the whole space. They don't own it."

"Huh." He replied, amused. That's true.

"I'm Trent, by the way." He introduced himself.

She studied him for a moment, before replying, "Gwen."

"Have you ever shot before?" Trent asked.

"Uhhh, yeah. A couple of times. Not very good at it though." She admitted.

"Care to teach me how?" He asked sheepishly.

Gwen smirked a little. "Sure."

…

Trent and Gwen– and Geoff who introduced himself to Trent when he met him on the shooting range– listened intently to the instructor explaining how to build a shelter.

They were there with four more other tributes, no Careers. And no one was talking aside from the instructor, until–

"Wouldn't it be funny if no one died in the bloodbath." Came a sudden, subtle voice, from behind.

The instructor didn't hear it. But all the tributes did. They turned their heads around slightly to see a girl with big curly red hair, looking at all of them.

"Give it a thought." She shrugged. "They'd be very disappointed." Then she turned on her back to leave, showing the number three pinned on her back.

Trent did give it a thought. Originally, he plans to head to the Cornucopia– and yes he knows how dangerous that is, it's where the bloodbath happens. …But that's because he's not sure how to survive without anything.

"Hah. She's got a point." Gwen said, looking at Geoff.

"Oh, so– are we changing strategy?" Geoff asked.

"...We'll see."

…

Despite becoming fond of Gwen and Geoff, in the end, he didn't ask for an alliance. Neither did they. Well– Geoff almost kinda did, if it weren't for Gwen interrupting him. And even if Geoff did ask him for one, he'd decline because… he doesn't want to see people die. Nor does he want them to see him die.

And he's scared of growing too attached. He's got the feeling Gwen thinks the same way. Maybe for her, one ally is enough. One person she can count on, and no more than that. Anything else gets messy. Risky. The kind of risky that makes your chest ache when someone doesn't come back. The kind of risky that makes loss feel personal. Too personal.

He gets it. Because he feels the same way.

…

After doing the ropes course, he had to sit down on one of the empty tables to rest. Gwen and Geoff went on ahead to a different station, where they learned what plants are safe to eat or use as medicine.

He probably should've planned his training a little better. Maybe on the second day he'll focus on the non physical stuff, and gather knowledge about survival instead. And then on the third day, that's where he'll train his body physically, with combat and use of weapons. Preferably, the bow and arrow. He grew quite a liking to it. Though his aim sucks.

Alright. Training schedule settled. He said in his mind. Looking at the clock, it's almost eleven. Training's almost over. He was about to get up to look for Sierra, when a hand pushed him back down to sit.

What the– He looked to see that it was the girl from District Three who did it.

"Sorry about that." She sat across from him. "Hi. I'm Izzy." She reached for a handshake.

"Uh, Trent." He shook her hand, unsure what's up.

"Lemme guess, you did well on the Tribute Parade?" She asked.

"Ha." He let out a laugh. "No I was horrible, I was just glaring at them. My costume didn't help either."

"Ohhh okay. So your chances of getting sponsors are off the board now, huh?"

"Yep."

"That makes the interviews your last chance at getting one. Uh-huh. And from the private sessions as well– but the interviews are more crucial." She said as a matter of fact.

"Oh, you're right." He almost forgot, he should probably start preparing what he has to do for those.

"Yeah," she nodded, "also, what do you think happens when the Capitol citizens all have different kinds of tributes they're rooting for?"

He didn't quite catch that, "What?"

"I mean, what do you think will happen, if the Capitol citizens have different kinds of tributes they're rooting for? You know, different kinds of favourites?" Izzy asked slowly.

"Uh… well obviously they'll be sending out their sponsor gifts to them." Trent said.

"Yeah. What else?"

Okay. What is she trying to say here? Trent looked confused.

Izzy continued when she noticed Trent was not getting it. "If the Capitol citizens each have different kinds of tributes they root for…" She leaned in, "then that means the sponsor gifts won't all go to the Careers."

He blinked. "What?"

"Think about it," she said. "Usually, the Careers eat up all the attention. They're strong, they're pretty, they're vicious. But you know, despite wanting blood, the Capitol's still got a taste for variety."

"See those two?" She points at the muscular girl and the boy from Seven, "They're quite forbidding. If they act like the Careers– you know, confident and proud, they'll get a large number of Capitol people on their side. Uh-huh."

"Then look at those two." She points at the girl from Six and the girl from Eight. "They quite caught a lot of attention during the Tribute Parade. From their hairstyles to their costumes, it looked exactly the same. If they can spin that little incident into a catchy narrative, they have a chance to become favourites."

She continues to point out other tributes: the boy from Eleven is built like a brick, the Capitol loves a strong player. The boy from Eight got a high fighting spirit, the Capitol likes someone who can start a bloody fight.

And she even mentions Sierra, who she noticed was playing as the Capitol's puppy. You know, pampering them. A smart move really, the Capitol likes it when they get spoiled or flattered, and so they'll give you a reward for treating them that way. The reward? Sponsors, of course.

"Oh…" Trent muttered, he never really put that much thought into it.

"Oh indeed…" She says. "So, what about you, huh? What do you have that'll make you stand out?"

Before he could think of an answer, an alarm chimed, signalling that training is over. The staff began to escort the tributes out of the Training Center, and Izzy got up from her seat.

"Well whatever you got, make sure to show it in the interview and the private sessions. I'd like to have the Careers receive the same odds as we have." She said, then stopped to add one more thing, "Oh and, don't go in the Cornucopia. It would higher your chances at survival, and the Careers won't get a lot of kills, meaning, the Capitol won't get a good show." She smiled, then left.

…

Back at the apartment, Trent lays on his bed, thinking about what Izzy said.

She was right– he needed to stand out. It was basically the same advice their mentors had given them. But unlike them, Izzy actually made it click. Because she didn't just say it– she explained it in a way that got to him and pushed him to really think it through.

…I guess… I can sing? He thought. And play the guitar.

But he had doubts. First of all, where can he get a guitar? And is playing an instrument even allowed in the interviews? He never saw anyone play– or sing– during those. Maybe in the past… there once was?

He shook his head. What about the private sessions? What can he do to impress the Gamemakers?

He thought of a very funny idea. He can write a song for them. An insulting one.

...Okay no nevermind, he's playing with fire there for a moment.

But writing a song would be nice. Maybe for the interview, since it will be broadcast to every district, he can write one to his family. They'll surely see it.

…Yeah. He's made up his mind.

He'll play a song for the interview. But it won't be for the Capitol and in no way will it ever be dedicated to the Capitol. No. He'll perform for his district, for his family, for– someone suddenly crossed his mind. Someone special… someone who may as well be his sister… his little darling, Ella.

He'll perform one last time, for her, before he meets with death.