My birthday party was set to be the event of the year. With everyone from the Academy attending my eighteenth birthday, I was certain the name on everybody's lips was going to be mine; Aurelia Thorne.

Everything was perfect on the day of the event. My hair was newly styled and dyed, with my voluminous curls dyed a stunning grey color. My stylists were going to arrive several hours before the party to make sure my makeup was perfect. In the backyard, Avoxes were running around, preparing the tables for people to dine at, and filling our infinity pool with pink water, as requested. I stood on my balcony, taking it all in with a happy sigh. That party was all that I could think of. That night, I planned to drink far too much, dance with my friends and perhaps even catch the eye of my latest crush at the time, Cicero Montague. He had told me he was buying me the most lavish, most expensive present out of everyone, and I couldn't wait.

I stepped back into my bedroom from my balcony and headed over to the mannequin in the center of my room. I had some finishing touches to make to my party outfit. While my parents had insisted that they would happily buy me something new to wear, I wanted to make my own design. During my time at the Academy, they taught me all of the vital skills - catering, music, combat training, and entertainment management - they even gave me etiquette training - but the one thing I've always loved the most is fashion design. Out of all the subjects I studied, it was the one I loved most, though combat training probably suited me better. My tutors always told me I'd make a good Peacekeeper, or even a Gamemaker like my father, if I desired that way of life, but I rejected it. All I wanted was to surround myself in pretty colors and a million different materials, expanding my ideas into the most provocative fashion the Capitol had ever seen.

I admired the outfit I had created. Knee high velvet boots the color of plums, finished with glitter and a feather trim. Orange and pink ruffles for the dress, billowing out like strange clouds. It had taken me months to create, but I was in love with it. It was completely unique, unlike anything you can find in the other boutiques in the Capitol. Each one claimed to offer the newest most exciting fashions, but I knew that until I saw something as good as what I could create, I wouldn't be buying from their stores.

I ran my hands over the soft feathery material. I was dreaming of leaving the Academy a few weeks later and starting to run my business. I knew there would be plenty of people willing to buy my designs. After all, I had hundreds of friends. I was from one of the most popular families in the Capitol. It tends to be the way when your Dad plays such an active role in the Hunger Games, and your mother is one of the best social influencers in the city. I was born for greatness, and I planned to achieve it.

There was a knock at the door. I thought that perhaps my stylists were early, but just after knocking, my mother peeped her head around the door. She gave me a warm smile.

"Hey, sweetie. All ready for your party?"

I nodded, grinning. "I was born ready for this."

Mum stepped gingerly into the room toward my dress. She ran her hand over the material of my dress. "This is stunning, Aurelia. I couldn't be prouder of you. You outdo yourself every single day."

I blushed. My mother had always been very open with her compliments, but they never failed to take me by surprise. If there was one person in the world who truly appreciated me, it was my mother. I never felt the same connection with my father - he didn't spend much time at home because of his job - but my mother had always been my best friend, closest confidant and my inspiration. She had always supported my dream in a way that my father hadn't. Like my tutors, he'd always been desperate for me to follow in his footsteps, but I was happy with my lot in life. I didn't feel any need to change my mind.

"Thanks, Mom. I wish you had let me make something for you."

"Maybe next time," she said, but her smile didn't quite reach her eyes. She sat down on my king-sized bed with a sigh. She looked tired. "Can we talk?"

"Are you about to give me a coming of age talk, Mom? Because I really don't think that's necessary..."

She chuckled. "No, not quite. Sit."
I did as she asked. I was always happy to do anything she asked of me. She put an arm around my shoulder and held me close. We used to hug all the time, my Mom and I, but something still felt off. It felt as though she was holding me tighter than usual, keeping me as close as she could. I tried not to overthink it at the time - I was sure she was just emotional about my impending birthday party - but I'll never forget how hard she held me.

"I can't believe you're so grown up," she said gently. "It seems only yesterday I was fitting your Academy uniform for you. And now you're about to graduate."

"Mom...you're bringing the mood down."

She laughed, shaking her head to herself. "Of course I am. But I'm your mother. And I just want you to know how much I appreciate you. You're my special girl. And I would never want you to forget that. Even though I'm sure you will fly the nest soon. You'll have things to do and places to be...I can just tell."

I looked at her intently. She was everything I wanted to be when I was older. She was so poised, so perfect in every single way. She had won so many beauty pageants that we had a whole cabinet dedicated to her elaborate trophies. Her gorgeously smooth dark skin was to be envied, and her incredible eyes were so often rimmed with green eyeliner, that it seemed like a permanent fixture on her face. It made her stand out and shimmer like the queen she was. She let her hair be natural at all times, her afro hair framing her face in all its glory. That day, she was wearing green silk for the occasion and I suddenly felt insecure and worthless beside her. But I knew I would grow to be exactly like her. I had so much to look forward to in that respect, whether I knew it or not.

"Mom...you know that when I open my boutique, I want you there with me," I tell her. "I'm going to need models for the opening ceremony. It wouldn't be the same without you."

My mother squeezed my shoulder. "Well, we'll see. I'm not getting any younger, Aurelia. I'm not exactly model material."

"Mom...don't say that. You're beautiful."

Mom laughed quietly. "I was. But age doesn't do us any favors here in the Capitol. You know that."
It was true of the time. While there were supplements we could take to keep us young and healthy, age was like a disease to us. It was better to live life to the full and die young than to grow old and ugly. Perhaps that's why we so readily agreed with the Hunger Games. We craved the kind of fame that those tributes gained in the Games that it kind of seemed fine that they died young. At least they got their chance at the spotlight. I used to be jealous of them in that respect. Now I know much better, of course, but at the time, it seemed perfectly rational to want the opportunities they had.

"I don't care what is expected. I'll want you there," I tell her. She smiles again.

"Well, we'll see. That's not what I want to talk to you about. I just...well, now that you're older, I just want to make sure you're prepared for what's out there in the world."

"In what way?"

Mom reached for my hand, clasping it hard. "Listen to me carefully, Aurelia. It might seem like we have a perfect cut of the cake. Our life here is good. You've never wanted for anything. But that doesn't mean that the rest of the world isn't broken."
"Well, Mom, you're kind of stating the obvious," I scoff. "The rebellion wasn't that long ago. It's only been thirty years. I know what the Districts did. I understand why we have it better than them. We earned the right to be here."

Mom wavered at that moment. I saw a flicker of doubt on her face for the first time and it scared me. Fear wasn't something I was familiar with - I'd never faced anything scarier than a grazed knee - but seeing my Mom - the most self-assured person I knew - experiencing uncertainty, I knew something was wrong.

"What if I told you that wasn't the case?" she whispered. "What if I told you that all these years, your Academy has been telling you lies?"

I blinked in confusion. It had been my mother's idea to send me to the Academy in the first place. It was the most prestigious school in the Capitol, made for the best and brightest in the district. Or those with the most money, I guess. I fell into both categories, and I wasn't afraid to admit that I felt like I belonged there. But my mother regarded me that day with a cold stare.

"The Capitol is not as perfect as you might think. I want you to remember that," she said in a quiet voice. "Now that you are older...it's likely that things will change."
"Mom, you're scaring me..."
"Good," she said with a darkness in her eyes. "You should be scared. The minute you stop being scared, you become complacent. You live a life that you know is wrong, but you forget to care because things are okay for you. But I hope that I have raised you well enough to always do the right thing."

"Mom..."

My mother sighed, reaching out to cup my cheek. It was as if the past minute hadn't happened, and she was smiling once again. "Sorry, darling. I didn't want to scare you in any way. I just want you to be prepared."

"...okay?"

Mom patted my cheek one final time and then left the room. I watched the closed door for a long time after she had shut it. I told myself to laugh off what she had said. I told myself to forget my mother's moment of madness and move on with my life.

But as it turned out, it was something that I would never ever forget.

The party started at six, and the first set of buffet food was released half an hour later. As my birthday gifts piled up in the hallway and guests spilled out into the garden, I had one of the Avoxes give out pills to everyone in case they wanted to empty their stomachs. I milled around, saying hello to everyone and accepting kisses and compliments on my hair and outfit. I knew I looked good that day. So good that people would be talking about my style for weeks.

Cicero turned up at seven pm with a gift the size of a house. He insisted that everyone gathered around to watch me open it. What was inside was a doll's house, larger than any I had ever had before, and filled with incredible miniature furniture. He had also had miniatures made of the two of us to accommodate the house. Everyone applauded the gift, and though I wasn't sure what to make of the strange gesture, I smiled and kissed his lips in front of everybody, sending the crowd absolutely wild.

My parents were stood off to the edge of the party, dressed in their finery. I was actually surprised to see my father in attendance, and I immediately rushed over to greet him with a smile.

"You came!" I exclaimed, hugging him hard. He laughed and kissed the top of my head.

"Of course, I came. It's not everyday your little girl turns eighteen, is it?"

"But Daddy, it's so close to the Games. Don't they need you to work?"

"Not tonight, sweetheart," he said, holding me close. He turned to my mother and they shared a not so warm smile. I'd noticed the frostiness between them the past few years. I wondered if maybe they had fallen out of love, but the possibility was too sad, and I never spent long mulling it over.

Cicero approached me as I was talking to my father. I think he was hoping to use the party to make good connections with people in high places. While he was handsome - all of the girls at the Academy went wild for his purple contact lenses and his cheekbones, defined and golden tinted as they were - he wasn't a smart man. He'd been given a position at the Academy because his mother paid for it with the riches she had gained from her modelling career, but it almost bankrupted his family. Now, it was easy to see to those who knew him that Cicero was scrounging for scraps. Still, I found it hard to mind when he was giving me so much attention.

"Good evening, Mr. Thorne," he said pleasantly, bowing to my father. "It's a pleasure to meet you at last."

"I see...who are you?" my father asked. I blushed. It wasn't as though I got around to telling him about Cicero much, especially since father was so often away from home, but I was embarrassed all the same. Cicero had been made to look like a fool, and he smiled like one in that moment.

"Cicero Montague, sir. I studied with your daughter at the Academy."

My father glanced at me as though he was crying for help. Contrary to belief, he wasn't one for social events. His job kept him in a small circle of important people, and he wasn't used to talking to anyone outside of that. He nodded in response.

"I see. Well, would you perhaps like to dance with my daughter?"

My father was simply trying to get rid of him, but Cicero seemed pleased with the suggestion. He took my waist and nodded to both of my parents respectfully before leading me out onto the dancefloor that had been laid out for the occasion.

We danced closely to one another. At first, I relished the feel of his skin on mine, and the looks we were getting from all around us. I could imagine what people would say about us. Aren't they just a beautiful couple? Don't they look great together? Won't they go on to do the most marvelous things together?

It was never so much that I liked Cicero. There were girls in my class that I got on much better with and had more of an attraction to. There were guys better looking than Cicero. But he presented to me an image of my future. He made me look better than I was. His weaknesses only showed my strength more. But he was good enough that I could bear to be seen with him, and that was why it seemed we were such a perfect couple. Looking back, I know better now. But at the time, having him with me was practically all I cared about.

"You look beautiful tonight, Aurelia," he whispered in my ear - but not so quietly that others couldn't hear. It was a game for him, too. After all, his attraction to me was purely based on my wealth. I don't think he ever saw the person underneath the riches I wore.

"I know," I told him bluntly. "So kind of you to say."

If he was expecting a compliment back, he would be waiting a long time. We waltzed across the dancefloor and I held in a sigh. Dancing with him had suddenly made the party much more tedious. I was desperate for something to happen, something memorable to make the night one that no one would forget. I felt more like I was going through the motions at that time, wishing away the time until something better came along. I was building my future by dancing with Cicero, but I was losing my mind at the same time.

And that's when, all of a sudden, the Peacekeepers stormed the party.