As I stood in front of the elevator waiting for the miniature room to appear a second presence entered the atmosphere. I turned to to see one of the Careers walk up in a navy blue suit made of material I could not quite place. His brown hair was gelled and spiked up and his white undershirt was slightly crinkled, not to mention the collar was off center. He must have been going for the "Charming Disarray" look. He pulled it off easily.

It was Royce Damon. The boy from District one.

I noticed his green eyes flitted down to my dress but not in creepy way. More as if he was observing me the way I was him as he walked towards the elevator with grace in his steps. I noticed his eyes held a little astigmatism as the left was a little off from being centered.

As he came to a stop I wasn't really sure what to say but thankfully he seemed to be more used to awkward situations. He cleared his throat " Good Evening" He said with an incline of his head. I tried to pick up on some sort of sarcasm or rudeness that normal came when the Careers spoke but couldn't find any in his words. They were polite but subtle as if he was being friendly.

" Hello" I said returning the politeness. Out of all the Careers he was probably the most quiet and hadn't jeered or messed with any of the tributes. He didn't exude the cockiness and brashness the others did. It was different but I would much rather be waiting for an elevator with him than Crowe. Or Braxus. But could it be and act?

The elevator appeared making a sharp ping sound as it's spotless metal doors opened. Revealing polished white floors and an all around mirror that included metal handles. I doubted they were there for stability, the elevator hardly even made a shudder as it took off. I pressed the number 12 on the pad.

"You know making that 11 was pretty amazing" Royce commented jerking his head a little as to get the stray bits of brown hair out of his eyes. I barely even registered he was talking to me. I hesitated a little before replying. I couldn't forget that this guy was my enemy. Same goes for everyone else. And Haymitch.

" Oh thank you, congratulations on earning a 10 by the way" I said back giving him a just a tiny smile as I still had my guard up. Royce returned the smile a little more showing a little bit of his pearly whites. " Yeah too bad it's only average for my district. I can imagine my father at home yelling for me to get an 11" He replied modestly with a grin as he imagine the scene.

I snorted a little. In District 12 I knew that getting an 11 for a tribute would basically go down in the History books. Even after the game whether or not I died I would most likely be remembered for that. However in a place like District one a 10 was pretty much expected and often was acquired. It was standard and not memorable. Only a Victor could be memorable there. An instant celebrity.

" You uh, don't take this the wrong way but you do look very beautiful in that dress" Royce admired scratching the back of his neck as though he had gone to far. I felt my cheeks heat up a little at the compliment. I had never thought I would actually be initiating a normal conversation with a tribute outside my district but ironically it was happening right in front of me. I gave him an appreciative grin " Thank you, again. You clean up well too" I replied as he gave a half smile that must have driven girls crazy back home.

The elevator came to a halt upon floor number 12 as it seemed Royce had forgotten to even press his own number. " Bye" I said and he returned the gesture. as I left the elevator I felt almost conflicted. While one part of me was thinking that he was just being a nice guy another thought it was an evil scheme. People weren't supposed to be nice to each other here. They were supposed to hate one another and kill the other person before they were killed.

But all of his smiles seemed genuine and sincere.

His words did not sound like lies.

His body language was playful and even compassionate almost.

I sighed walking into my room without speaking to the people in the dining room who were mainly the Stylists. The only tribute there was Daisy. I immediately stripped of the dress and realized how tight it was when I finally took a full breath of air. The cold clean air felt refreshing rather than breadth in the coal tainted air of District 12. That's one thing I liked about the woods. The fresh air.

I went to the shower next and stood in the warm water for a long time. Allowing it to cleanse my body of makeup and the many potions upon my skin. Until I was just back to my normal, unpainted self. I savored each second of luxury as the silky water passed over my bare body. In 24 hours I would be sitting in an arena. Heck I could be dead in less than that.

No. I would have to live longer than a day. Somehow I just knew I would.

After my prolonged shower in which I insured that I used every kind of soap available I got out. I wrapped a soft fluffy pink towel around my wet body and then laid down on my feather soft bed. The mattress seemed to fit perfectly with my body as though it had been created just for me.

I hoped I could fall asleep like that. Unlike most I enjoyed sleeping with my hair wet and messy. I took several long breaths in and out trying desperately to get my mind off of the day to come.

My attempts were in vain.

After switching positions countless times and re adjusting my already perfect pillow without improvement. Then switching outfits from a loose fitting shorts and kitten soft shirt to fleece pants and a long sleeved sweater for warmth I gave up. How was I to find sleep when my mind lay all a buzz?

I stood up from my bed noticing the time was now 2 am. Surely my stylists would all be asleep by then or at least partying somewhere else as to not disturb us as we sought rest. I pulled on a pair of shorts and a random t shirt that I think was purple and exited my room quietly. My footsteps were trained and completely silent from years of hunting silently in the forests.

I walked into the vacant and dark living room that was illuminated from the lights outside. There were hundreds of skyscrapers and hotels all around our penthouse. Their lights shined like so many stars all condensed into one picture. It was a surreal scene as I was used to the lumpy wooden cottages in District 12. Not gleaming spires and amazing architecture that must have been designed by genius's.

I sat on the floor rested my back upon a separate wall and examined the buildings. I enjoyed the silence. The only noises to interrupt it was the sound of my own breathing and the occasional outburst of an unseen crowd below. All of them were most likely cheering over the games.

Not at all worried for their lives. More interested in placing bets and wagers upon teenagers who were to die within the next week. Maybe longer. Personally the longest Game I had ever seen lasted a grand total of three weeks. The shortest however was the 43rd that lasted a sour 4 days. It had been such a cold barren wasteland that most kids had frozen to death within the first day. The victor was a poor bloke from 8. In 8 they lived in the freezing alps. But he came out with a terrible case of frostbite. Missing facial parts, fingers, and toes. The capital fixed most of it.

I enjoyed my solitude for a little while longer before it was interrupted. Not rudely or abruptly but I could heard the footsteps behind me. They weren't terrible loud but were heavy indicating that I was most likely a male. I figured it was probably Bronx coming to usher me back to my room. I didn't even turn as the footsteps came to a close indicating that they were fairly close to my position.

" Couldn't sleep either huh?" Came a familiar rustic voice that didn't belong to Bronx or any other Capital goer. No it was Haymitch.I turned to see him in a cotton black shirt and loose fitting sweat pants. His hair was now back into its chestnut ruffles, no longer contained by gel. The lazy, I just woke up look suited him well. I imagined my hair was probably sticking out everywhere but I didn't really mind at the moment.

" Not a chance" I replied from my spot on the floor. Haymitch was standing about 10 feet away from me, leaning upon a pillar gazing upon the skyline just as I had.

It was silent for a few minutes before I decided to speak up, " Are you scared?" I asked innocently. The question was really meant to break the silence that hung heavy.

Haymitch was quiet for a second and the cleared his throat. " I'd be a fool to say I wasn't, anybody would and should be. You?" Haymitch explained. His voice was surprisingly soft but held and obvious air of truth.

"I've never been more terrified of anything else on my life" I replied feeling the the slight nausea in my stomach turn over a little. I had been scared in my life quit e a few times, such as the time we had a field trip to the mines and there had been a minor accident. Or the time I was chased up a tree, when I was younger and alone, by wild dogs. But none of those instances could face up to what I felt now.

Haymitch took a few steps closer to the window peering closely to where he could probably see the hoards of colorfully dressed people below. He made almost a look of disgust as I watched his actions. " They'll never understand will they? The people of Panem?" He asked out loud.

I thought for a second on what he meant. Those people would most likely never know Hunger or true fear. They'd never understand true hardship of working yourself to the bone as many did in 12 and many of the Districts below that. Difficult for them was not finding the right pair of pants to go with their ridiculous costumes and clothing. Pain was putting the wrong color foundation upon their falsely beautiful faces.

" No, I doubt they will. To them we are just pieces of a game" I said back and stood up from my spot. Stretching out my legs a little and stood beside him looking out the window.

" A sadistic and cruel game" Haymitch added and I nodded in agreement. " I don't want to just be a another piece of their games, not just another murderer because the they force me to do so. I almsot want to prove that I'm not just a pawn for them" Haymitch explained. His voice was softer and strangely genuine. It was a different Haymitch coming out right then. It was the softer side. Not the hardened and rustic part of him.

" Do you understand what I mean?" Haymitch asked and turned to look at me. I looked back at him as we stood face to face. I peered up into his eyes that still held the common seriousness I had grown accustom to seeing.

I nodded " You don't want to be changed by the games, don't want to surrender to their will" I sitd back and Haymitch nodded and turned his gaze back on the world outside.

Ironically, I felt my eyes finally growing a little heavy. As though sleep suddenly would come. I realized this could possibly be the last time I would ever get to talk to Haymitch. Tomorrow we would wake up and eat separately before being ushered to the hovercraft that would take us to the arena. Some far off, godforsaken place where 47 poor souls would die.

I sighed and put a hand upon Haymitch's shoulder in a friendly way. " Good luck" I told him with a parting glance. He gave a single nod in farewell which I had been almost expecting. I left him by the window and retreated my room. It was now almost 3am. I got a glass of water from the sink and settled back into my bed.

Nestling deep within the silky covers I found sleep.

But it was brief.

As morning game inevitably.