Golden yellow light melted across the pink sky, illuminating the delicate white clouds. Mountains stretched across the sky as a large river twisted beneath them. The air was crisp and cool, signifying the morning.

Near the end of the a town stood a row of house. Houses so grand and beautiful anyone would be in awe. Yet, all beautiful things come at a price.

District 5 was a beautiful place. It was nothing compared to what Fallon has heard about District 4. Yet, it was home. The winding streets lined with shops and houses, kids running in the streets. The river lapping against the land surrounding it. Workers trading shifts at the dam and others heading off to the power plants.

If one took a closer look, they'd notice the buildings looking rather beat up, almost as if they would fall apart. The children running in the streets were barely anything more than skin and bones.

Nothing was as it seemed. Fallon knew that. She knew there was always a deeper meaning to everything. It's why she preferred the view from Victor's Village. The houses stood in the shadow of the mountains. At least when looking out into the forest, Fallon could admire its simplicity. The terrain doesn't have to be one set thing like that troubles that await her in her district. She can imagine whatever she'd like lurking behind those trees. Most of the time, she pictured peace.

Things in Panem were terrible, even for the child of a Victor. Freshly 17, Fallon Solaris was tucked away from the prying eyes of the capital. Her mother Fiona Thym, was the forgotten Victor. Victor of the 48th Hunger Games. She was the only victor in her time win without killing anyone, taking away the entertainment from the sadistic capital. Instead, she used her head. She watched from a distance as the game took place. She would occasionally leave some poisonous berries for other tributes to snack on, but it wasn't her fault they were dumb enough to not listen to the survival skills lessons.

Fallon took her father's last name, who died tragically before she was born in a power plant accident. Since then, it was just her and her mother. Well, more so just her.

Every year Fiona would train the tributes from District 5. And every year following the games, she would turn to sedatives to ease the nightmares and flashbacks. Only that truly didn't help.

Fallon learned as much as she possibly could at school to somehow make a living in this dreadful world. With her mother's winnings, she was more fortunate than others, but only if she hid some of it and rationed so her mother couldn't use it to buy her drugs.

Despite the world being bleak and cruel, there was one good thing that came out of it. Her best friend. They were friends since before Fallon can even remember, their mother being friends even longer.

Dustin Sank had many siblings and both of his parents. They were impoverished, but their love wasn't. Every single one of them cared in some way. Some more expressive than others, but caring nonetheless. Dustin and Fallon often trained together, both having different reasons.

Dustin deciding that to support his family, he would become a Peacekeeper, despite his loathing for them and the capital. Fallon because she hated feeling weak and so she was prepared should she ever be reaped. She needed to survive the games. For her mother.

When Fallon rose in the morning, her mother looked worse for wear. Her hair was neatly combed back, but her dark blue eyes were sunken in and drooped down. Her bags looked to have grown thrice in size overnight.

"'Morning, mum," Fallon said softly walking up to her.

"Good morning, my little river," Her mother responded sweetly, pushing a piece of her grey hair back into the brown, completely the peppered look.

"Are you ready?" Fallon asked cautiously, not wanting to upset her mother on this day.

Fiona nodded and the two followed the rest of the citizens down to the town square.

Let the reaping begin.

***

"Ladies first!" Melanie Renaissance chirped. She was a women from the capital decked head to two in periwinkle, walked across the stage. Her blue heals clicked across it each time her foot hit. Her wig, which was also periwinkle, looked near falling off of her head as she pranced.

Fallon's heart hammered in her chest. She had her name in there many times. She always had, but not because she needed it, but because others did. She was known through the district for sharing whatever she got from the tesearace.

When the name was called, Fallon had almost wished it was hers.

"Fallon Solaris!"

Fallon felt the blood leave her body and her heart drop to the deepest pits of hell.

Off in the crowd, Fallon heard a strangled cry sound. Mrs. Sank fell to her knees as her husband caught her. Dustin looked ready to throw himself at the stage and fight everyone insight.

Dustin looked and Fallon, tears brimming his eyes.

Fallon emerged from the crowd of eligible girls before they had a chance to look at her in horror and relief like in ever other reaping. She refused to accept the pity. She refused to look lost and weak. Thus, she rolled her shoulders back and set her jaw up and clenched as she made her way to the stage where she stood before all of District 5.

Behind her, a tear slid down Fiona's cheek.

But no one saw.

All they saw was a young defiant girl, with her sun kissed shoulders back and chin up. Her dark blue sundress swirled around her knees as wind rushed by. Her coppery brown hair shone in the sun as it was also picked up in the wind. Her dark blue eyes were trained forward, determination omnipresent.

Out of the corner of her eye, she saw Dustin's eyes trained on the ground as his fists were clenched at his side.

When the next name was called, Fallon had to resist the urge to save the fighting for the arena.

"Dameon Howl."

A rather large boy stepped up to the stage. Well swaggered up to the stage with each foot fall shaking it. All of his features were pale. His skin, his eyes, and his hair. It was almost like he was the snow that dusted the tops of mountains. Just as bitter.

For the first time in a year, Fallon was happy to be ending up in the same place as Dameon Howl.

***

The train ride to the capital was filled with deadly silence. Everytime Dameon opened his mouth to speak, Fallon sent him an icy glare until he shut it. Sarah hasn't said a word since they boarded the train, and worst of all, she wouldnt even look at her.

Fallon, right now, needed her mom. She needed her mom to tell her it would all be alright. She needed her mom to hold her and say that they will get through this. She needed her mom to be here.

She needed her mom, not the shell of the person she was now.

Yet, thats what the games do. They leave shells of the winners. They leave shells filled with nightmares and trauma.

So were there truly any winners?

No.

And seeing the way her mother was now, made her wonder if she wanted to win the games.

Why win the games if all you'll ever be is a puppet, a toy? Why win the games if you never truly won?

To bring glory to your district, and provide entertainment to the people of the capital.

***

Finnick absolutely adored the Capital. It was his favorite place to be.

This was obviously a lie.

A lie President Snow had forced him to paint.

Every time he visited the Capital, he was forced to smile and wave. He was forced to act like there was never anything wrong with what was happening around him, like there was nothing wrong with sending children to murder each other.

He hated mentoring. He hated that he was helping the Capital with their barbarianism. He hated that he was forced to train his tribute just to die.

At first, he thought there was some chance of District 4 winning this year. Not because his tributes appeared particularly talented, but because they were 17. Of course age wasn't always a deal breaker as he had won at the age of 14, but everyone knew being older gave you more chances.

Unfortunately, his tributes' age didn't mean anything when the other tributes were roughly the same. That was something he picked up on very quickly. They all ranged from sixteen to eighteen if he had to guess.

When Finnick exited the elevator, he wasn't surprised to see that there was virtually no one in the chariot area. In all honesty, he wouldn't even have been there if it wasn't for his need to snag some sugar cubes before the horses ate them all.

There was one thing that did surprise Finnick, however. There was a girl standing by the District 5 horses. Based on her dark blue jumpsuit, he assumed she was a tribute, which was even more shocking.

"It's not nice to creep up on people," She remarked without turning around. Her voice was smooth. If running your hand across silk was something that could be associated with sound, that's how he would characterize her voice. Her tone was measured and calm. "I had assumed that was common knowledge but it would appear not."

"If that's how you think it will work in the arena, you've got another thing coming," Finnick remarked, striding towards her. He noticed that the top half of her walnut colored hair was pulled into an elaborate bun as the rest fell around her shoulders. "I advise changing your perspective in the next week."

"I don't recall asking for input, Mr. Odair," she said, still facing the horse. He could hear the smirk rising in her voice, sarcasm rolling off of her tongue. "Although I must admit, I am honored to have been granted such wonderful advice."

She turned around to face him. It was then he took noticed to how much her towered over her. The few pieces of her hair that fell around her face were curled away, allowing Finnick the study her features with fasination. He noticed a small brown dot decorating her right cheek. Her skin was tanned her cheeks sun kissed. Her stormy dark blue eyes looked up at him with a cold but curious glance.

"My services are always offered up to the pretty ones," He flashed a smirk, putting on the facade that was he meant to project.

Her gaze hardened, her eyes turning dark. Finnick thought it looked like there were clouds moving behind her eyes, determining how much light you see.

"Oh, Finnick," Fiona interjected, placing a hand on his shoulder as she appeared. "Stop terrorizing my tribute."

"I would never do such a thing!" Finnick said bashfully. He acted as though Fiona had slapped him across the face.

Fiona pursed her lips, but he caught sight of a small smile making its way onto her face. He expected it to, but it never did.

That's when he noticed how tense she was. All victors were, especially the ones mentoring, but this year, she seemed even more on edge. He wanted to ask, but more people began to file into the room.

He looked back at the tribute from District Five, who had been looking between Finnick and Fiona curiously. He took notice the similar hair color shared between the two women, and their similar face shape. Who was he kidding, they looked very similar.

"It was nice seeing you again, Fiona," Finnick said sincerely as he watched his tributes enter. "And it was interesting to meet you, Miss Solaris."

With that, he was off.