Disclaimer: violence and MxM sex are both integral parts of the story's plot. Reader discretion is advised.

Three hours had passed since I was reaped for the games, but already my life in District 12 began to feel like a distant memory. I refused to believe that only this morning I was stuffing pastries at my family's bakery, praying that any name but mine would be drawn. I sighed as I stirred my carrot soup, waiting for it to cool. I guess I should have prayed harder. Effie, Katniss, and I sat at the dinner table, with Katniss staring out the train window and Effie facing the both of us, sizing us up, an ever-present smile plastered to her face. Haymitch, unsurprisingly, was nowhere to be found. A few moments passed in silence before I decided the soup had cooled to a manageable temperature, taking a spoonful. Seeing me not shout out in pain, Katniss followed suit. Effie Trinket smiled at Katniss and me as we helped ourselves.

"I imagine that this is an exciting time for you two," she beamed. "There's just so much for you to experience!"

Katniss and I side-eyed each other, trying our hardest not to laugh at Effie's absurdity. She likely saw no reason for us to not be thrilled at what she presumably considered to be our shot to escape the misery of our lives in District 12. I doubt she even considered that being stabbed, gutted, maimed, and bludgeoned were the bulk of what we would be experiencing. Even if she did, to her, we were far more fortunate than those we left behind. Katniss rolled her eyes before taking another spoonful of soup. Effie, noticing her comment's poor reception, tensed her jaw slightly before changing the subject.

"Well, perhaps we should watch the recap of the other Reapings while we eat," Effie suggested. A few seconds pass without response.

"It could be useful," she added, giving it a second try. I turn to Katniss to see that she is far more interested in her soup.

"That sounds like a lovely idea," I offered politely. I really could care less, but I figured being agreeable would allow for a more peaceful eating experience. Who knows, I might even pick up some valuable information about my fellow tributes. Effie gave me an appreciative smile before signaling one of the avoxes to turn on the television. As the screen came to life, we were greeted by Caesar Flickerman and a boy about my age seated across from one another, comically bantering as pictures of tributes flashed behind them. It took me a moment to register the boy as Quinn, the winner of the 72nd Hunger Games. My mind reeled as I was reminded of what was probably the strangest games in history.

Coming from District 5, Quinn was essentially an automatic underdog, and his performance before the games did little to heighten the audience's expectations. He received a respectable but forgettable 7 in his combat analysis, and his interview left commentators calling him charming, but plain. He definitely was a looker with his flaming red hair, full lips, high cheekbones, devious blue eyes, and toned body. I will even admit to fantasizing about what he could do with those thick lips of his.

Regardless, he was nowhere near beautiful enough to just have gifts rain down on him like Finnick was, and was largely dismissed as a potential winner. Thus, everyone was shocked when, come the bloodbath, it became apparent that the careers had enlisted him as an ally. Even now, commentator's look back and question how the tributes, much less the tributes' mentors, could have thought this would be beneficial. Nevertheless, it proved to be a fatal miscalculation on the careers' part when he and the boy from District 4 poisoned the others, killing all of them on day 2 and shocking the capitol. Careers almost never turned on each other so quickly, as doing so left the traitor(s) with little manpower to defend the stockpile of supplies that they had gathered from the bloodbath. Apparently, this was of little concern to them. The two packed up all they could carry before burning the remaining supplies down. Quinn, figuring people would come to scavenge through the rubble, left several bags of poisonous mushrooms and berries on the outskirts of the wreckage, making them appear to be supplies that survived the fire. It was a bit of an afterthought, but it still managed to trick two tributes into their demise.

The duo had few struggles after that, as the District 4 boy was the only skilled fighter remaining. Not only that, but the two had become darlings of the capitol, inciting a never ending shower of gifts. They spent the rest of their time wandering aimlessly, camping out in trees and shoving a spear through anyone they stumbled upon. When they found themselves together in the final two, the ensuing brawl was most likely the oddest ending to any Hunger Games ever.

They shook hands, hugged, and counted down before they fought. After a brief squabble, Quinn managed to fatally wound the career, causing him to fall. The two stared at each other for a full minute as the boy bled out. Quinn sat down beside him, appearing to be unsure of what to do. Finally, the two nodded at each other, and Quinn slit the boy's throat. Two years later, he now sat across Caesar, sizing up this year's batch of tributes while promoting his singing career. What a strange world we live in.

I lose my train of thought as I see an image of another tribute pop up onto the screen. She is pale, with tightly pulled red hair and bright amber eyes. While I probably would not consider her to be pretty, her face was most certainly memorable. She wouldn't be out of place in some sort of high fashion magazine. In a way, she resembled Quinn, at least with her hair.

"So, let's talk about your tributes," Caesar smiled, leaning closer as he spoke. "You had a great first year as a mentor with Tatianna. Are you expecting another win for district 5?" Quinn smiled at this, as if Caesar had asked him if the sky was blue.

"Well, I have not talked strategy with them yet, since I was here for their Reaping. But I will tell you that I know both of the tributes personally, and my question isn't so much whether or not District 5 will have a third consecutive winner as it is which will be that winner," he half-joked, nudging Caesar's arm as he laughed with the audience. Katniss frowned at the television before refocusing her attention towards the lamb and mashed potatoes being served to her.

"With a mentor like you, I wouldn't dare count them out," Caesar smiled. As if on cue, Haymitch stumbled into the room, almost tripping over himself in his drunken blur. Katniss and I shared a knowing look before redirecting our attention to the screen. A new tribute had been pulled up. The photo offered little perspective of his actual size, but I was willing to bet that he was at least the weight of Katniss and myself together. As if his chiseled, imposing physique weren't enough, his strong jawline, bronze skin, impeccably styled blonde hair and deep blue eyes made up what had to be the most gorgeous specimen I had ever laid eyes on. I could only thank the heavens that the dinner table concealed the stirring in my pants. Even Katniss's eyes widened slightly at the beast in front of us. Onscreen, Quinn was the first to speak.

"Why hello there, handsome," he cooed, fanning himself.

"I don't know what's in the water down in District 2, but I need to go drink some," Caesar agreed.

"I'd rather just drink him," Quinn winked before sipping from his glass. The crowd erupted in laughter as he struggled to keep a straight face. Caesar did his best to contain his laughter as he slowly got up and inched towards Quinn's chair. He leaned in, acting like he was about to whisper something in his ear.

"FAMILY. PROGRAM," he shouted, causing Quinn to finally burst out laughing as Caesar mock-scolded him. In the background, I hear Effie burst into laughter as she cut into a chocolate cake.

"Those two are just a riot," she smiles. "You know, if you two could show off a little personality, it would help a lot with sponsors,"

"If we had a mentor like that, it would help even more," Katniss sighed, glaring at Haymitch, who at this point had given up making his way to the table and lay comfortably on the floor. I couldn't help but nod my head in agreement. Having a sober mentor would practically triple our odds. Effie pursed her lips in distaste.

"He will feel better in the morning," she sighed, serving us each a slice of cake. I briefly wondered if she truly believed Haymitch would suddenly be useful to us when we all woke up. I don't think she could be that stupid. Ignorant, certainly, but not stupid. Regardless, Haymitch was not going to be of assistance in the foreseeable future. Effie, however, could potentially offer a little insight.

"What personality would you say the capital is looking for?" I tried, hoping for some insight. Effie considered this for a moment.

"Well, whatever you go for, it has to be genuine. As long as you two stay true to yourselves, I'm sure the world will see you coal turn into diamonds!" she beamed. So much for insight.

I smiled politely at her wise words before excusing myself to my bed. It had been a long day, and tomorrow was unlikely to be any better. I took no interest in the room for the moment, stripping down to my underwear and jumping into bed. As I drift off to sleep, the pictures of my fellow tributes flash through my mind. Katniss, the beautiful brute from district 2, the foxlike girl from 5, and the few snippets I had seen of the others all drifted in and out of my consciousness. As my body finally sunk into repose, I felt one last thought fire through my brain.

"I wonder which one will kill me."

Author's note: Thank you so much for reading! Please leave me feedback so I can improve on my future chapters! I will be uploading again shortly, so stay tuned.