Disclaimer: I own nothing

Chapter 1:

Dreams and Revelations

The night before, I dream of the reaping.

I always do.

There's Liam in the crowd of young twelve year old boys, his blonde hair striking in a sea of browns and blacks. I wave a hand at him wildly and I'm filled with panic as a sense of dread rushes through me. I'm overrun with a sudden apprehension that something was going wrong, terribly. Peacekeepers stream towards me with their shields up and begin to block my view of him with plastic shields bearing the Capitol seal. I shout and push them aside but it's fruitless. I look for my older brother, Ethan, in the sea of faces and when I find him he's dressed as a Peacekeeper, jabbing me in the back with a gun. The crowd hushes and I'm granted a path that opens straight to the podium and I see Liam flash me his toothy, blinding smile. I almost sigh in relief before I see where he is.

He's on the podium, holding Effie Trinket's hand as he continues to beam. His large grey orbs are twinkling with innocence. My voice has somehow died halfway up my throat and I'm rooted to the spot, unable to save him. She's calling out his name and he just keeps smiling.

"And the male tribute, Liam Mellark …"

"No!" I yell. "You can't! He's just a child!"

The crowds come in their thousands, shaking their heads and I'm drowned, screaming.

I scare myself to consciousness and sit up, blissfully awake as I cover my face with my hands.

A dream, Peeta, that's all there is to it.

I shake the lingering thoughts out my head by splashing my face with cold water. I put my hands on either sides of the sink and examine my bedraggled reflection with a shaky exhale. Blonde hair falls over my blue eyes and help to cover the fear that's still so evident in them. I've taken after my mother's looks like my younger brother, with the light blonde hair and gentler features, whereas Ethan has inherited my father's bulkier and strong stance.

I pull on my boots, shrug on a thin jacket and sling my bow over my shoulder.

I strap the knife vest across my chest and waist and then stroke the dagger that sits loyally in my pouch. As I walk past, I push my brother's door open and see him curled in a tight, quilt lathered ball, safe and sound. It's been a long standing tradition for me to check on my younger brother before I go out to hunt. Today, especially, I need the comfort of knowing he's safe, at least until the reaping begins. I crouch next to his bed and smooth out the blonde curls from over his forehead and a smile creeps onto my face, despite the circumstances of today. I hear soft footsteps above my head and I know Ethan is awake, probably coming down to check on Liam as well. The image of him dressed as a Peacekeeper flashes briefly behind my eyes and I feel a lump developing in my throat. I clear my throat and stand back up and head outside into the chilly wind. As usual, I run past the meadow and to the supposedly electro-charged fence, passing the merchant's village and passing the starving old people in the Seam. Like always the fence lacks its hum of danger and I get down swiftly to my knees. I listen on last time for the electricity then finally fall onto my stomach, crawling my way through.

Once I'm back in the green escape, I allow myself to breath. Ironically, here, I feel safest.

The forest cover secures my hiding but I continue to keep my footsteps light as I tread over the thick roots and ferns while keeping my eyes peeled for any sign of movement. As I reach a small stream I jump over the familiar rocks and land swiftly on the other side lightly.

I spot a deer and I'm just about to pull out my knives when an arrow whistles past my head and embeds itself in the kill's eyes. If falls, twitching, and finally stills, it's glassy eyes staring at me vacantly. The signature kill is so obvious and I turn around with a smile to face Katniss, followed closely by Gale who already hauls a deer over his wide shoulders. A beam almost splits Katniss' face as she throws her free arm around my neck and gives me a quick but meaningful embrace. I never see her smile like this anywhere else. The forest is a safe haven for both of us. She gives me a look which is mirrored by Gale as he gives his usual crooked grin but I can see behind both of their smiles.

We're all scared senseless, but not for ourselves.

Each of us has younger siblings, all who are having their first year. Gale has two, Katniss and I one, all dear, all too young. I walk silently to the deer and haul it up easily with my hand free of my knife.

"Well Katniss, you've never quite played fair have you?" I say with a grin.

Katniss playfully punches my shoulder as she walks past and I wince, rubbing my shoulder.

Katniss leads the way with her sharp senses and Gale and I fall into step behind her. We're all itching to mention the reaping but we all manage to hold our tongues.

We settle down over a mountainside view of the west-side of the meadow and each pull out respective foods. Out from my pack comes a fresh cheese loaf and Gale pulls out a jar of jam whilst Katniss pulls out her small container of goat's cheese. The mood is suddenly lightened and it feels almost like every other day. This is what I want for Liam. I want to see him, in a few years' time, sitting with maybe Prim and Gale's younger brothers, free in the woods. But I know it's impossible and I tell myself to stop dreaming. Gale's two younger brothers are game enough but Liam and little Prim are positively terrified of the forest. Katniss digs into the cheese buns which we've slathered in jam and melting cheese.

"Mm, it's still warm…" she says with a moan of satisfaction.

Before we part, we exchange some items of food and gut our kill by the river. As the blood runs clean off my knife and into the otherwise pristine mountain lake, I look to my side and see Katniss and Gale having some sort of disagreement.

"I never want to have kids," Katniss says. Her eyes are distant as if she's contemplating all the possible misfortunes that could befall if she did.

"I might. If I didn't live here," Gale says and his eyes are discreetly flickering over to her.

I hide my smile by turning back to my chore.

"But you do," she retorts and there's a bitter bite to her words.

I can see the conversation is quickly going downhill and Gale looks speechless on how to save it so I cut in.

"Katniss has a point," I add in as I wipe the knife clean on my jacket. "But look at our parents. All had children eventually. The Hunger Games are always going to be around."

"And what about you?" Katniss asks. "Could you do it? Live in the fear of them being reaped?"

"Katniss, I'm gay." I say with a laugh. "I think the chances are pretty slim."

It was a year ago when I came out to my two closest friends. I'd met Katniss so long ago neither of us can quite pinpoint the year. She'd been slumped near the back of my family's bakery and I'd thrown her the bread she claims saved her life. Even now she thinks she owes it to me. The day after that we'd become easy friends and from then, I was always the 'Boy with the Bread' to her. Gale of course became outrageously jealous and confronted me just after I'd seen Katniss home and at first sight I'd developed a ridiculous crush on Gale Hawthorne, a straight guy and luckily though, a very nice straight guy. He'd laughed good-naturedly when I'd told him but told me he was straight and already had his eyes set on someone. I'd grown out of it quickly and now smile whenever I see him nervously flirting with Katniss who just never seems to catch onto a clue. From then on, I'd been secretly stuffing some stray loaves of bread away from our bakery for their families who were far worse off than my own. My mother would have murdered me if she knew of such a scheme but I'm still alive so I'll assume she's still blissfully unaware. I do have suspicions of my father knowing from time to time but he's never made comment.

I'm so stuck up in my flashback I don't realise Gale's swinging his hand in front of my face.

"Hello, Peeta, you there?"

"Huh?" I answer dumbly.

"C'mon. The reaping's about to start." He says with a sad grin. He and Katniss have already split the kill.

Before we head back we part at the fence. Gale is blushing furiously as he tries to keep a straight face. His left hand is clenching and unclenching at his sides as he's trying to figure out whether to brush a stray strand of hair from Katniss' face. After what seemed like a long internal battle he sighs dejectedly.

"Wear something pretty," he manages to say flatly.

Katniss smiles at him. He seems to find the courage to finally raise his hand when Katniss suddenly turns to me and waves a farewell and walks off. Gale lets out a deep sigh as his hand falls back to his side. He continues to watch Katniss as her slight figure sprints away and finally disappears. I walk up to him and give him a sympathetic pat on the shoulder.

"Courage, man. She'll come around," I say with a grin.

Gale glares at the ground, returning back to a glum attitude.

"At this rate, we'll be all dead before she notices."

We part ways with our kill and before I know it I'm standing in the familiar aroma of baking bread. I push the back door open and shrug off my jacket, dumping the deer in the backroom. I walk down the hallway when my mother appears and blocks my path, her hands planted resolutely on her hips.

Her lips are pressed hard together but they often are when she's around me or Ethan. It seems only little Liam can escape her belittling stare. But today when I look in her eyes I almost see a glimpse of my old mother. She says in a tired voice: "He needs you," and that's all I need before I push past her gently and nudge his door open. Before I can even open my mouth I'm greeted with a bundle of blonde that practically flies into my middle and attaches there. I see Ethan sitting on Liam's bed and we share a concerned look. He gets up and lays a pat on my shoulder before closing the door behind him. Liam's shaking and his nose is cold as it presses against my thin shirt. I cradle his blonde head in my hands as I press him closer to me, stroking his combed curls softly. I sit us on the bed and put my chin on top of his head. He's already dressed in his very few good clothes with his collar tucked in the wrong way but what really gets me is his big grey eyes which are threatening to break banks. He's brave and doesn't cry but I know he's damn well close.

"Liam… oh, Liam," I whisper. "Don't be afraid."

He doesn't make a sound but his breathing is low and fast against my shirt.

"You're name is in once. You'll never get picked. There'll be so many of them, Liam. Just you see. All full to the brim."

"But Peeta," he manages to sniff. "You're name is in fifteen times."

"Liam," I say as he continues to shake his head. "Liam, look at me. It's not going to be me and it's not going to be you, one chance in a thousand."

When I finally get him to stop clinging onto me our mother's knocking on the door. I call her in reluctantly. She appears with my normal suit tucked in her arms and she walks up to me, opening her mouth.

"I'm a little busy," I say as I nod my head at Liam in my arms. "Just drape it on the chair, will you?"

She closes her mouth and does as I say for once. As she retreats I grab Liam's hand and swallow heavily. I smooth his hair and wipe his face.

"Come on. Let's go."

The night before, I dream of the reaping.

It was so real and now it finally is.

The first thing that runs through my head is: One chance in a million. Then he's up there, bad collar and all, Effie Trinket beckoning with her hands outstretched. One paper in a thousand runs through my head, in a bowl full to the brim. My words were nothing and they don't convince anyone. I turn my head around and I see Ethan, shaking his head with a hand over his mouth. His handsome face crumbles like thin pastry but he's so shocked not a single tear can even run down his face. He covers his eyes with his good hand and I know what he's thinking. He simply retreats into the crowd of people, head bowed. My father lets of a broken sigh and I see my mother mouthing the same word that's running through my head.

No…

Effie smiled and bats her long pink lashes as she takes his small hand. He's so terrified a smile breaks his face unconsciously. His collar is still untucked and it reminds me of all that's happened. He's so young. He'll never survive. Not Liam, who'd never hurt a fly, who still can't sleep without a candle.

No.

"No!" I yell. "You can't!"

A sick sense of nausea washes over me as I remember this morning in my dream, when no one listened and I was buried beneath the sea of people.

"I volunteer!" I bellow, my voice echoing over the silence.

There's a dead silence. It's followed by heads all swivelling my way like a wave.

Liam finally finds me in the crowd and his mouth silently whispers my name like a prayer.

There's absolutely no sound except for Effie Trinket's hearty squeal into the microphone. She claps her hands together and lets go of Liam's hand immediately. Liam's shouting and squirming but I'm relieved to see Gale come forward and take him in his arms, throwing a hand over his mouth before he says anything that would condemn us all. He nods at me solemnly and takes a step back as Peacekeepers step forward. I look around and can no longer find Ethan, or mother, or father or Katniss. The only thing is pure white as Peacekeepers swarm around me and grab hold firmly of my arms. They just but drag me onto the podium as my feet are lead and I can barely control my nerves, let alone my body. I force my best smile on as the cameras all zoom on me but it slides off as soon as I catch sight on Effie Trinket. She smiled almost warmly at me and takes my right hand. It's surprisingly warm and I grasp it tightly just for the comfort. My fingers are shaky as they lace through hers.

"Well, isn't this most interesting!" She says breathlessly. "A volunteer! Well this is just wonderful! What's your name, mister?"

"Peeta, Peeta Mellark." I'm surprised how smoothly that falls out.

"Well, Peeta, I'd bet that boy just then was your brother!"

Silence. I catch sight of Liam who's watching me from behind Gale's hand that still covers his mouth. His eyes are begging me but what choice do I have? My throat tightens and I'm forced to clear it.

"Yes," I whisper and I have to repeat myself for the mike to catch it. "Yes, he's twelve."

"Touching," Effie says and quickly turns away. "Now, for the ladies! Any volunteers?"

She's huffs in disappointment as no one makes a sound. She sinks her hand into the tokens and swirls her fingers around tauntingly before snatching one up dramatically. I catch sight of the name before she even reads it out and my heart jumps to my throat because I know what's going to happen.

The odds have not been in our favour.

It's Primrose Everdeen.

Effie Trinket must have read it aloud because Katniss is screaming before Prim can even move. Effie can barely contain her excitement. Two volunteers from her district and she's absolutely ecstatic. Gale is too slow to Prim and the poor girl is wailing behind her sister, clutching at the pale blue silk fabric of her dress. I vaguely remember Gale telling Katniss to 'wear something pretty'. She really does look beautiful. Katniss is trying to shake her off, speaking to her gruffly but I can hear her voice breaking. Prim is finally pushed off by a Peacekeeper and she falls back into Gale, clutching a fragment of fine blue silk ribbon that tore off with her desperate hands. Gale gives Katniss his handsome, crooked smile and says something I can't hear. Effie trots in her high heels that clack along the floor and takes Katniss' hand like it's her saviour. Her perfect lips stretch into a blinding smile and she fans herself with her hand.

"Oh! This is just so exciting!" she says so loudly that the microphone squeaks. "Come on darling, hurry now. We haven't got all day."

She raises Katniss onto the podium and I finally catch Katniss' eyes. We're both speechless. Despite everything, I think of Gale, Gale who is now carrying two sobbing siblings and watching Katniss and I with shock. His gaze lingers on Katniss and I see his mask almost crumble with pain.

"Beautiful! I bet all my buttons that was your younger sibling too. Don't want them to steal all the glory, do we? Now, a round of applause to our tributes!" she says triumphantly clapping her own hands together delicately.

There's no sound apart from the sniffling of Prim who has still not calmed down. To their credit, no one in District Twelve claps. Not even a stray person that happens to slips and I know why.

Who hasn't seen Liam in the Bakery, stealing frosting from my cakes, or Prim who daily sells her goat's cheese in market? Who hasn't bought from our daily haul or stared at the pretty cakes in the Bakery window, wistful for what only the rich can afford? The cakes are all the goodness that exists in our district and although hardly anyone can afford it, they're still beautiful to look at. Somewhere between the silence there's a lone person that raises three fingers up to her lips and then to the wind. Then comes a second man, who I've seen buy bread. I give him discounts because he's got one too many mouths to feed, just like everyone else. Is this his thank you? They're followed by others we've encountered, or know personally, then by others that have never even heard our names. The gesture has not been seen in decades, not since everyone lost love and trust was hard to gain. I lose Liam in the crowd of limbs but Haymitch slaps me out of my daze by collapsing onto Effie Trinket and taking the mike from her.

He's brandishing a whiskey bottle by the neck and burps into the mike before even getting a word out.

He claps Katniss on the shoulder then ruffles up my hair. He holds up the bottle as if toasting to the cameras, a cynical smile gracing his drunken features. I briefly wonder how long it's been since he was last sober.

"To, the Capitol!" he slurs as Effie Trinket struggles to adjust her wig. "They've sure fished out a fine lot this year! Lots of…"

He pauses and mutters as if he's trying to find the word. He takes a swig of whiskey and hiccups before he suddenly brightens mockingly.

"Spunk! Yes, that's the word! Spunk. Lots of spunk! More than you!" he shouts crazily, walking forward to the cameras which are undoubtedly trained on his face before tumbling off the podium.

As they carry him out, screaming and tied down to a stretcher Katniss and I manage to catch each other's gazes again before the Capitol Anthem starts, finishes and then we are rushed in opposite directions. Peacekeepers on either side of me fill me with nausea and I'm escorted quietly through hallways and finally into an expensively lavished room. The door slams behind me and I look around. Before I get to take a seat the door opens and Gale bursts in. He's no longer holding Liam or Prim and fright runs through me.

"Where—?"

"Don't worry, he's safe, they both are. He's coming in a second." He says levelly. "I haven't got much time, but I promise, I'll take care of them. Don't you worry, Peeta."

"Katniss…"

He looks pained.

"I know, Peeta. I'll be talking to her soon. Stay together and you'll do fine. I have confidence in the both of you." He says, looking rather lost all of a sudden. "You'll be fine. A good show, that's all they want."

"I'll be doing everything I can to bring her back for you." I say, staring at him levelly.

"I can't comprehend this, both of you, gone by the end of the day," he starts but the door opens and two Peacekeepers enter. "Peeta, just remem—…!"

He's abruptly cut off as Peacekeepers shove him through the door and slam the door again. Remember what?

The door opens again and this time it's Liam, followed closely by Ethan, then my parents. Liam seems to be lost for words and simply croaks a little and wraps his arms around my middle like there's no tomorrow. I remind myself I may never see him again, any of them, and with that thought in mind, I cling onto him, running my hand through the golden hair so much like my own. Minutes pass this way and I think the Peacekeepers must pity us to give us so much time. As Liam breaks away Ethan opens his long arms and pulls me to his strong chest. I bask in the comfort and strength he offers.

"I would have gone for you, Peeta, I'm sorry."

"This isn't your fault," I say. "Don't fret, old man." I add playfully and he almost smiles. "Take care of him. Don't let him get near the furnace."

My father steps forward and doesn't say anything. He doesn't have to. He simply wraps his arms around my one last time and pats me on the mother however stares at me with her usual cynical gaze but once again something stirs behind those eyes that resemble mine so fiercely.

"Maybe District Twelve will finally have a real winner," she says and pauses as if she wants to say something else.

There no time because the Peacekeepers come and begin to horde them out. I wonder who she meant. It couldn't possibly have been me. Liam struggles and breaks free, running to me one last time.

"Come back, Peeta, please. Promise me, please." He stammers.

"I promise."

He looks relieved as though he actually believes me. Promises mean nothing now, all empty.

"Don't change, Peeta."

"I promise."

All empty.

He's taken away.

After dinner, we watch the Reaping on the tributes train.

I sit side-by-side to Katniss, our shoulders touching as we each hold a mug of hot chocolate. Unconsciously, our hands find each other's and we hold discreetly. Katniss has been quiet so far. To anyone else this is nothing new, but I'm her closest friend and I can tell she's missing our third partner. There is an unspoken connection between the two of them and she's feeling its absence now. An artificial fire burns warmth around the spacious train compartment and a projected picture shows in high definition the District One tributes.

A bronze-haired boy volunteers without hesitation and a confident smile graces his handsome face which then drops straight off as a beautiful blonde is reaped. Marvel, his name is, hers Glimmer. She briefly notices him with a glance of sorrow but he looks horrified as she steps onto the podium beside him. The conceited boy that stepped on stage has disappeared, to be replaced by a nervous, gobsmacked young boy. I briefly wonder what the history between them is. Unrequited love? Next is District Two and the girls are this time reaped first. The ceremony is quick and a girl and boy volunteer almost immediately. Clove, the girl, is lively and pretty in a childish way but I see stealth and danger behind her eyes. It's for the boy however does my heart jump to my throat. Blonde hair, a shade lighter than mine falls over confident, gold-brown eyes. Cato, his name is. My heart is jumping beats and my breathing is quickening and Katniss notices because she nudges me playfully with her shoulder and waggles her eyebrows. I blush to the roots of my hair and she laughs over the steam of her hot chocolate but the moments already gone because the screen has switched to District Three.

District Eleven show the biggest surprises, a towering boy (more like man) that seems to part the crowd with his size alone. He's then followed by a small girl and Katniss' eyes glaze over for a second. We both expect someone to volunteer, a sister, a brother.

No one does.

Then our District appears and the room falls into a hush.

I see myself, in shock and then I'm stunned into action. I plea and then I volunteer. Katniss does the same. I'm relieved we don't look weak. Neither of us shed a tear. They show the three-fingered solute, only briefly and totally cut out Haymitch's little speech. Only feature him falling off the podium edge. Probably for comic relief since our whole district is so stony-faced. The anthem is played again.

"You're mentor had a lot to learn about presentation!" Effie huffs, touching her wig self-consciously in remembrance.

"He was drunk," I say mater-of-factedly with a laugh. "He's always drunk."

Katniss clinks her chocolate mug with mine with a laugh.

"When's the last time anyone has seen Haymitch sober?" she adds with a real smile.

Effie has a small temper fit right there, screaming about the Hunger Games and the importance of mentors when Haymitch walks in, as if on cue and burps.

"I miss supper?" he slurs.

He stumbles around aimlessly, before vomiting all over the expensive hideous rug and then collapsing into his own bile. Katniss and I burst out laughing. Effie jumps up and tip-toes around in her ridiculous heels.

"So laugh away!" she screeches before adjusting her wig and strutting out.

"C'mon," I start, nodding my head at Haymitch who is struggling to rise from his vomit.

Sighing, she helps with one arm under his armpits and we haul him to his room. Katniss stops outside the bathroom door with her hands up defensively.

"Katniss, c'mon, give me a hand."

"Nu-uh, Peeta. He can take his own shower." She says with a grin. "You're too kind, you know that, right?"

"You owe me for this," I grumble as I wrench Haymitch into the bathtub.

He's already snoring.

I grab the shower nozzle and point it at his face, turning on the cold water to maximum. As it hits his face he jerks awake and I hear Katniss laugh amusedly from the door. He stares at us to, looking much like a soaked sloth.

"I miss dinner?"

We (although it's more of a one-sided effort) eventually gingerly peel off all his clothes and manage to slather his hair in some sweet-smelling liquid that bubbles when making contact with his wet hair. He dozes off several times, each time taking a swift face full of water from either Katniss or myself. Eventually he sobered up to an extent and chucked his whiskey bottle at us to signify a request for privacy to wash up. Relieved, we happily complied. We decide to retire for a break in Katniss' room until curfew. When we finally entered her compartment our mouths fall open at an artificial sunset that has been plastered to the wall opposite a king-sized bed. We ignore the bed and instead sit side by side at its foot. I grab the remote on her bedside table and the scenery switches to District 12, bland grey colours and all. I quickly change the channel again and it lands on an illusion of a being within a rich green forest. We share a knowing look and leave this on, finally taking a seat on her bed.

Katniss pulls her leg up to her chest and wraps her two arms around them.

"What were the odds?" she sighs with a half-hearted snort. "Both of them in their first year…"

"Could you imagine either of them in our place though?" I remark. "We've done the right thing."

"I can't imagine Prim going against that giant from eleven, or the boy from two." Katniss says with a shake of her head. "Or even any other of the tributes for that matter."

I flush immediately at the mention of Cato and quickly put a hand over one cheek to prevent the burn. My antics don't go unnoticed by the keen Katniss and she leaps forward like a predatory cat.

"Peeta! You like him, don't you?" she says, sitting back with a smirk as if she's already won the games.

I barely get time to react because she'd making kissing noises in my ear and clutching her cheeks. I throw her onto her back and tickle her sides mercilessly.

"Well, I'd say the same about you with Gale, wouldn't I?"

I don't have time to take back the words and they're like a slap in the face for both of us. Her hand has flitted up and is now clutching protectively at something that lies beneath her blue silk dress. We come to a stop with our childish act and I pull her up with a hand. She looks so disheartened all of a sudden and beyond her hard shell I see a glimpse of the girl that I threw the bread to so many years ago, before she toughened and learned to put up her walls. I grab the hand that's still defensively clutching the fabric around her chest in a bundle and she slowly releases. She pulls out a necklace with a pure-gold pin strung at the end. I recognise the bird immediately from our many mornings in the forest. A mockingjay glints proudly in the dim light of the room and I finger the pin needle on its back.

"From Gale?" I question.

Her silence is answer enough.

"He came to see me and strung it on. Told me it'd be like he was watching my back."

Her lips are pursed and I can tell that's not all he said.

"What else, Katniss?" I say quietly. "You can tell me."

There's silence as she seems to contemplate something, eyes hard.

"He told me he loved me," she says and she looks away now, pursing her lips so tightly together they lose all colour. "He said nothing would change that and he wanted me to remember that."

I don't put my arm around her and I don't whisper her promises that it'll be alright. They'd be all empty anyways and Katniss isn't one for that. We three, Katniss, Gale and I have grown the same. Sorrow is mended by silence and quiet companionship. My heart aches for Gale as I remember his previous words. "We'll all be dead when she notices…" His joke hits hard as I realise it must have been exactly like that for him. He'd waited so long for the chance and when it finally came, she was on death's door. Wordlessly, I bring my hands behind her neck and unclasp it from the back. It comes off with a clink and falls in my hands. She watches me warily as I slip the badge from its necklace hold and find the breast pocket on her dress. I weave it into the thin fabric and then clipped it on with a quiet 'chink'. It catches the light and reflects a glow onto the ceiling and Katniss releases her usual melodic laugh as she stares at the ceiling in wonder.

We part close to midnight after a lengthy talk about forcing some help from our drunken mentor. We come to agreement that if it comes down to it, we'll have to knock some sense into him, force advice out of him somehow.

My mind is plagued with Career tributes.

I can't help but wonder how the odds are in no way in our favour.

TBC…?

A/N: Yeah. I don't even know whether to continue this or not. If I get even one request I will…

I've been reading fanfiction for a while now and although my grammar and general skill at writing is terrible I've decided to give it a try. I regret it already. OTL Constructive criticism is loved and I'm always willing to learn so reviews are loved to death.

Please review?