Blaine wrinkled his nose, remembering the last time he had been in this room. Of course last year the room had been decorated in orange and red, so it seemed they changed the d�cor every year. I wonder what it will look like next year? Blaine wondered to himself, before feeling his stomach twist uncomfortably at the thought that he’ll be here next year… and the year after that… and the year after that.

Kurt was mesmerised by the room and for good reason. It was at least twice as big as the standard size houses back home. Tina was equally amazed, stroking one of the walls that were covered in long purple carpet.

It was late and they had already eaten on the train so everyone wished their good nights and made their way to the bedrooms. Blaine managed to get three hours of sleep before he found himself shifting under the blankets restlessly, his eyes showing so signs of closing. He turned onto his stomach, his face flat against the pillow as he groaned, before pushing himself up and climbing out of bed.

He decided to get a drink and then to try to sleep again. On the dining table was a control panel beside an empty raised base where he could order food and drink any time of the day or night and it would just appear.

He was about to key in for what the Captiol called ‘hot chocolate’ when he noticed a figure move out of the corner of his eye. Turning towards the shadow, his heart thumped in his chest at the sight of Kurt sitting beside the crackling fire, obviously deep in thought. Blaine keyed into the control panel for two hot chocolates and when they appeared on the base, he carefully carried them over to where Kurt was sitting.

Kurt was wearing silk pyjamas without a robe. He shivered slightly, despite sitting cross legged next to the fire. He looked up at Blaine when he came closer, only this time he smiled immediately. Blaine returned the smile, handing him one of the steaming mugs.

“Thank you,” Kurt said, sniffing the contents. “Cocoa brew?”

“They call it hot chocolate here,” Blaine said, blowing on the rim of the mug and taking a sip.

Kurt followed suit, raising his eyebrows as he went in for a second longer helping. “Oh. It’s much sweeter than I’ve had before. I wonder what they put it in to make it taste that way.” He licked his lips and practically drained the mug before placing it on the carpet, humming happily.

“You’ve had hot chocolate before?” Blaine asked, surprised. Hot chocolate, or ‘cocoa brew’ as it was known in District Eight, was a luxury that was only found in Districts One to Three. Blaine had only drunk it once before he came to the Capitol and the realisation hit him that it would have been at the same time that Kurt would have tried it too.

“It came in the Condolence Package my dad and I got after my mom died,” Kurt said, his voice suddenly small. He spoke to the mug, running his finger around the rim a few times.

Blaine had learnt in school that when a person died in the Capitol, they left behind a document called as a Will, which listed all of their worldly possessions and who they wanted them to go to. There wasn’t much cause for a Will in District Eight, so the residents were given Condolence Packages from the Capitol instead.

Each package contained various items; cocoa brew, grain and rice, packets of luxury meat (such as lamb or beef), material (Blaine guessed this differed between Districts), cheeses, pot of jam or marmalade, fresh bread and a bottle of apple and pear juice. Usually, the family would make use of the goods the evening after the person was buried in the District’s Remembrance Field.

It didn’t occur to Blaine that Kurt’s family would have received a package too. After all, both of their mothers had died in the same incident so they would have been sent the same Condolence letter and package from the Capitol.

*

Blaine gripped his mom’s hand, skipping along as he smiled at passers by. They were on their way to Blaine’s favourite store in town, a place that sold and leant out books. Blaine loved to read and he and his mom would visit the store every Saturday morning so Blaine could choose a book to borrow.

Every two months, Mrs Anderson would pull together her spare change and allow Blaine to purchase one of the books and today was that day. He had been telling his mom about his decision to buy Alice in Wonderland over The Adventures of Huckleberry Finn, and how he’d just buy the latter the following book buying day if he hadn’t found a better one in between.

When they reached the shop, a quaint little place with shelves upon shelves of volumes from every genre you could imagine, Blaine beamed up at his mom eagerly, a bright smile flashing across his face.

“Go pick out your book while I talk to Elizabeth about the new music sheets she just got in,” Mrs Anderson said, bending down to place a tender kiss to Blaine’s cheek, running her fingers through his long curls before he nodded happily and ran off in the direction of Fiction.

Blaine scanned the shelves, running his finger along the wood as he read through the titles until he reached ‘C’. He blinked up at else had taken it?

“Hello,” said a small voice behind him.

Blaine rounded and saw a little boy, around his age, sitting on a wooden stool, his nose buried in a large book so only his eyes and chestnut hair were visible. He didn’t know what it was, but there was something almost comforting about his eyes, piercing blue, large and wondrous.

Blaine was about to say hello back when he noticed the title of the book the other boy was reading. “Hey! I was going to buy that one!” He stepped closer, the other boy’s eyes widening as he pulled the book up to cover his entire face. Blaine, whose hand was outstretched to grab the book, let his arm fall against his side. “Oh no, I didn’t mean to- I’m sorry. It’s just that I really wanted to buy that one. My mom has been saving up for me to get it.”

The other boy peered over the top of the book again, only this time he closed it and rested it on his lap. He smiled, which made Blaine smile automatically.

“It’s my favourite,” the boy said proudly, his thumb rubbing along the book’s spine absently.

“Mine too!” Blaine said excitedly. This confession caused the other boy to stand up and hold out his hand, which Blaine shook enthusiastically.

“I’m Kurt.”

“Blaine.”

“I’d be happy to let you buy the book once I’ve finished reading it,,” Kurt said, putting it down on the stool behind him.

“Oh, but then you wouldn’t be able to read it!” Blaine said, his face falling.

Kurt chuckled. “It’s okay. My mom owns this store, I’m sure she wouldn’t mind ordering another copy for me. It’s my birthday soon anyway,” he said.

Blaine’s brows shot up, his mouth falling open as he spoke quickly and breathlessly. “Your mom owns this place? It’s my favourite place in the District!”

“Oh, mine too!” Kurt agreed, glancing fondly around at the books. He was silent for a moment before he raised a pointed finger, his mouth making an ‘O’ shape. Kurt quickly scanned the shelf of books by ‘B’ authors, pulling out a small green book and handing it to Blaine expectedly.

“Peter Pan,” Blaine read, looking up at Kurt imploringly.

“For you to read until I’ve finished Alice in Wonderland, if that’s okay?” Kurt asked.

“What’s it about?” Blaine asked, running his fingers over the silhouette of a boy on the cover.

“A boy who never grows up,” Kurt said simply, as though no other details were needed.

Blaine smiled almost sadly. “That sounds nice,” he whispered. He looked over at Kurt who looked just as sombre and he knew he was thinking the same thing. Not growing up meant that neither of their names could be chosen for the Hunger Games.

“Did you see –?”

“- Yes.”

Blaine picked at the hem of his shirt for something to do. Of course he’d seen it. The tribute from their district killing the poor deaf girl from District Six. She had only been thirteen years old. Even though that was the point of the games, the death of the girl had been the talk of the town. How the boy from their district had killed her in cold blood, sneaking up behind her like a coward and slitting her throat. Blaine shuddered. He was seven years old, why was he forced to watch such graphic, horrible, unspeakable things?

There was a large bang outside that knocked the wind out of Blaine, causing him to fall to the ground. Kurt grabbed his hands, pulling him up. Both of their expressions were panicked, and they looked around for the cause of the noise. Several more explosions vibrated the ground beneath them as Kurt clung onto Blaine, his face paling.

There was the sound of glass breaking and suddenly everything felt too bright and too hot. There was laughing outside mixed with screams that filled the air as thick as the smoke that was rapidly growing. Blaine looked wildly around as he saw flames devouring the books he loved so dearly, the crackling sending shivers down his spine despite the rising heat. There was another large explosion, this time from inside the shop. Kurt held onto Blaine tightly, tears streaming down his face.

“BLAINE!”

Mrs Anderson ran over to the boys, her hair had fallen out of the bun she usually wore it in and there was a cut across her cheek. She grabbed hold of both boys, sheltering them from the heat and falling debris as one of the bookcases nearby fell forwards, igniting the one it fell on.

“We need to get out of here,” she said hurriedly, taking hold of Kurt and Blaine’s hands. The way she had come was now blocked by the fallen bookcase and the fire was getting closer. She jogged along, pulling them as quickly as possible to the other end of the store and through a section of the shop that the fire hadn’t reached yet.

“What’s going on?” Blaine whimpered, his eyes glossing over at the sight of fire that was devouring everything in sight. He started to cough, blinking back tears as the smoke wafted towards them.

Mrs Anderson swallowed thickly, pushing Blaine and Kurt to stand behind her while she looked for a way out. “District Six… they’re not happy… riot,” she said, her brain unable to formulate proper sentences. Blaine, despite his age, understood.

“Where’s my mom?” Kurt asked, sniffing loudly, his eyes pooling with fresh tears as he looked around. He was fisting Mrs Anderson’s skirt so tightly that she had to pull his hand free so she could turn to speak to him.

“I – I don’t know, she went out the back to get me some sheet music and that’s when the first explosion hit,” she said, her voice sounding hoarse from the smoke and partly from guilt. “We need to get out of here. Stay low to the ground.”

Mrs Anderson dropped onto all fours and began to crawl. Both Kurt and Blaine followed suit, keeping close to Mrs Anderson as they made it over to a section of the shop that was untouched by the destruction. When another bookcase fell over behind them, the wood cracking and the fire roaring, Mrs Anderson didn’t dare look back.

When they reached the front of the shop, they found the door blocked with a ceiling beam. The only way out was through the smashed window. Mrs Anderson was about to help Blaine out when they all heard it.

“…help, someone.”

“Mommy?” Kurt asked, sounding frightened, his eyes flying open as he automatically made a move to go to her.

Mrs Anderson grabbed him around the middle before he had a chance, bending down and holding him by his shoulders. She said in a strong and forceful voice, “Kurt, go outside with Blaine. Wait there, I’ll get your mom.” When Kurt shook his head, his bottom lip jutting out helplessly she added, “It’s too dangerous. Please, Kurt, go.”

Kurt wiped his eyes, giving her a brief hug before taking Blaine’s hand and helping him out of the window. A couple of Peacekeepers pulled them to safety, only to jump out of the way as the fire spread to part of the shop Blaine would later find out was where the electrics were connected, causing a blast that brought down most of the shop’s ceiling on itself, trapping anyone who was left inside.

*

“Do you ever think about that day?” Kurt asked quietly. This time he looked up at Blaine, his eyes unnaturally bright in the darkened room.

“All the time,” Blaine admitted, absently licking his dry lips.

“Your mom…” Kurt paused, taking a deep breath. He looked like whatever he was going to say was causing him some pain. “I saw you in the Remembrance Field and I was going to say something… your mom went back to try and save mine and…” he trailed off, unsure of really what to say. There was nothing to say. It was ten years ago but the memory still burned Blaine, burned like the book shop that never reopened. Blaine had packed away his books after that, leaving them to gather dust under his bed. He couldn’t read, not without his mom there to listen.

“Yeah,” Blaine said lamely, fiddling with the hem of his top. There wasn’t anything either of them could say. “I heard your dad remarried,” he said, changing the subject.

Kurt nodded. “Yes. Carole is lovely; she works at The Sanctuary with your dad. She says he’s… nice.” Kurt wrinkled his nose as he smiled, the sentiment not quite reaching his eyes.

Blaine chuckled softly. “You don’t have to tell me what a cold man my father is,” he said almost bitterly. When he saw Kurt bite down on his bottom lip worryingly he added, “He wasn’t the most hands-on father when mom was alive and after she… he’s a very independent man. My brother basically raised me.”

Kurt nodded thoughtfully. “Your brother is much older than you.” It wasn’t a question, at least not one Kurt asked out loud. Blaine knew what Kurt was really trying to ask.

“He was twenty-six when my name was chosen so he couldn’t volunteer,” Blaine said matter-of-factly. Not that it mattered. He knew that if Cooper had been old enough to volunteer their dad would have held him back to keep him from doing so.

“I was routing for you to win,” Kurt said suddenly, making Blaine laugh again.

“I should hope so,” Blaine said, pulling an amused face.

Kurt’s cheeks turned pink. “Oh! No, well of course, but I mean even if I wasn’t from the same district as you, I would have still routed for you.” Kurt’s cheeks grew darker, causing Blaine’s lips to part as he stared at Kurt unblinkingly.

“Thank you,” Blaine said earnestly. “You’re probably the only one who did. Apart from Cooper.” At Kurt’s confused expression he clarified, “My brother.”

“What about your friends?” Kurt asked.

“I don’t know if you had noticed but I don’t really have any friends back home,” Blaine said sadly. It had bothered him last year, having no one, but he was used to it now. He was better off alone, who would want to be friends with him anyway?

“I noticed,” Kurt said barely audible, as though he didn’t want Blaine to hear it. Blaine opened his mouth to say something but Kurt cut in. “I’m nervous about tomorrow.”

Blaine smiled reassuringly. “You’re going to be brilliant, you don’t need to worry,” he said sincerely.

“But how do you know?” Kurt asked, his voice straining slightly. It was really late now and Blaine could sense that the events of the day were getting to him. Kurt’s eyes were blood shot from lack of sleep and he was breathing in short spurts. His fingers were rapidly drumming on his knee.

Blaine covered his hand over Kurt’s, making Kurt suck in a breath at the motion, his fingers stopping immediately. He then said in his calmest and most sure voice, “Because you’re Kurt Hummel and I believe in you.”

They stayed like this for a few minutes. Kurt turned his hand over in Blaine’s so Blaine began rubbing his thumb over his pulse point soothingly. It seemed to calm Kurt down but caused Blaine’s heart to throb against his chest dully.

“I should get to bed,” Kurt said. He made a motion to stand up and Blaine followed suit.

“I’ll walk you back to your room,” Blaine said without thinking.

Kurt smirked. “It’s down the hall,” he said.

Blaine could feel heat creeping up his neck as he said in what he hoped was a playful tone, “I’m your mentor. I’ve got to start somewhere.”

*

After a breakfast of kippers, toast and marmalade, Kurt and Tina bid Blaine and Shannon their goodbyes, setting off to meet their stylists and prepare for the opening ceremony.

Blaine knew that Kurt was still feeling nervous about today so he gave his hand a quick squeeze under the table, feeling Kurt squeeze back firmer, his eyes briefly locking with Blaine’s.

Excusing himself to his quarters, Blaine took a long shower, making use of his time in the Capitol by trying out some of the buttons. One button released foam rather than water, another produced hail stone sized beads of water and the third released steam. He only got out when his fingers started to prune. He would be meeting some of the sponsors ahead of the opening ceremony while Kurt was made ‘beautiful’ (or more beautiful in Blaine’s opinion) by his stylist.

Blaine dressed in a simple cream button up with dark pants and a matching jacket. He noticed there was a pot of hair gel on the dresser table and he almost picked it up before remembering that his stylist last year had almost coated his head in the stuff for the entire time he was in the Capitol. What was wrong with his curls anyway?

Networking with the sponsors before they had met any of the tributes was difficult work. Many of the mentors had only known their tributes for a day so trying to gather early support for them without very much background information wasn’t easy. Blaine had the advantage that he knew Kurt fairly well, though he didn’t think babbling on about how angelic his voice was when he sang or how blue he eyes got when he was scared or overwhelmed would be much help.

Hardly anyone spoke to him and Blaine wondered if they weren’t interested in knowing about Kurt or if he was off putting in some way. Shannon had spoken to at least four sponsors, waving her arms around animatedly, making them laugh and nod at her encouragingly.

A very tall and bored looking woman with orange spiky hair came over to him after forty-five minutes, asking him in a dull voice what he thought Kurt’s best asset was. Even though she was talking to him, her attention was elsewhere, she didn’t even look at him.

Blaine felt his insides flood with warmth as he answered sincerely, “His heart.”

“Oh?” The woman asked. She turned to face him, her expression curious and Blaine had to rearrange his features quickly when he noticed her eyes were shaped and coloured like a cat’s.

Blaine brought himself up to full height, raising his chin in what he hoped was a confident matter. “I have never met anyone whose heart was as big as Kurt’s. His mom died when he was seven and he took up her duties around the house, helping his dad with the cooking and cleaning. He looked after him, especially after his dad’s heart attack. Kurt worked double shifts at the Factory back home when his dad couldn’t work on top of his household duties. He basically saved their home. He saved his life.”

The woman was holding her chin, rubbing her thumb along her jaw line as she listened. A few people in earshot had turned their attentions to listen.

“Kurt does so much and asks for nothing in return. His dad remarried last year, thanks to him. That’s the silver lining of him being here; at least he’ll know that his dad isn’t alone at home.” Blaine sighed heavily, running his fingers through his hair.

There was silence for a few minutes before someone asked, “Hummel is it? From District Eight?”

“Yes, that’s right,” Blaine said in awe, his face breaking into a grin. “District Eight. We make the…” he racked his brains for a flattering word, “fabulous clothes you wear here.”

There was a break out of nodding and agreeable sounds from the crowd that had gathered around him. Blaine noticed Shannon smiling at him from across the room and he grinned back at her when she winked.

*

Blaine hadn’t seen Kurt all day. He was due to meet him before the ceremony started to give him any last minute tips. He wringed his hands nervously, looking up with a start when the other tributes started arriving.

My God they were all so... colourful. Bright costumes, some with hats and others with capes and one boy with a suit lit up with electricity. The boy was District Three was wheelchair bound and his outfit made him look like a tree lit up for the Winter Feast.

“Hey,” a voice said from behind him. Blaine turned around and sucked in a breath.

Kurt was beautiful. And although Blaine thought he was beautiful anyway, this was something else. His skin, which was usually milky white like porcelain, was noticeably tanned and it made him look like he was shining. His eyes were the bluest Blaine had ever seen them and his hair was styled with just enough hair gel to give it volume and height.

He was wearing tight form-fitting grey slacks with a crease down the front. Black leather boots offset the pants and a matching grey waistcoat covered a simple white button up. There was a cream silk scarf tied into a bow around his neck and a gold chain clipped to the waistcoat that disappeared into a small pocket where presumably a pocket watch sat. On the breast of the waistcoat were a couple of large safety pins.

Blaine’s eyes raked over his body, he looked gorgeous and it was making his head fuzzy just looking at him. He must have been staring because Kurt awkwardly cleared his throat and rubbed the back of his neck gingerly.

“Do I look okay?” Kurt asked quietly. He fiddled with the buttons on the waistcoat.

“You look more than okay,” Blaine breathed, letting out a whimper mid-sentence. He felt his face flush and he clapped his hand to his mouth as Kurt stared at him, his lips parted and his eyes shining. “I mean, yeah, you look… good,” he added lamely.

“You both look gorgeous!” Shannon announced, clapping her hands together, her eyes pooling with tears. “You’re going to do great out there.”

Blaine noticed Tina for the first time. She looked stunning. She was wearing a long dark red dress, a corset on the top, exposing her shoulders and neckline, with long frilly sleeves. Blaine wondered if there was something underneath her dress as it flared out to an impressive width around her. She had her hair pulled up into a knot and she wore a red feathered black hat.

“We do good work.”

Blaine turned to the woman standing next to Shannon and his confusion must have shown because she held out her hand, smiling, and said, “I’m Mercedes, Kurt’s stylist. You must be Blaine; Kurt’s told me all about you.”

“He has?” Blaine asked, surprised, eyes widening with hope.

“Okay you two, time to go,” Shannon cut in, ushering Kurt and Tina onto their chariots. “We’ll be in the stands, just remember to smile and wave and we’ll see you afterwards!”

Kurt looked to Blaine for guidance, who said, “Don’t try to be anyone except yourself.” Kurt nodded, turning to face forwards, gripping the front of the chariot. “Relax, Kurt.” Kurt loosened his grip.

Blaine was near enough pulled up to the stands to sit with Shannon, Sue Sylvester, Mercedes and Bryan (Tina’s stylist). His nerves for Kurt were easing, given how he looked and how he sold him at the first sponsor meeting. He just hoped Kurt had the strength Blaine knew was inside of him.

The music started to play and the chariots ascended into the stadium. The crowd was screaming and cheering and it was nearly deafening for Blaine who ducked slightly as the music increased, thumping through the speakers. Blaine frowned at the volume and looked at the first chariot as it came into sight.

The board overhead told him that Sebastian Symthe and Quinn Fabray were from District One. They were wearing long white fur coats, Quinn wearing a matching fur hat, her long blonde hair in golden curls around her face. If they were told to smile, they were doing it wrong. Their faces were set in superior smirks and Blaine instantly disliked them, wrinkling his nose as they waved and blew kisses to the crowd.

Blaine almost snorted as the tributes from District Two rode up next, both of them wearing some edited version of the Peacekeeper uniform. A striking olive skinned girl with long dark hair and full lips was wearing a skirt that could be classed as a belt and her shirt had at least four buttons open at the top that Blaine knew would have the men of the Capitol wolf whistling. Though it was nothing compared to the hairstyle of the boy. Shaved both sides of his head except for a thick line down the middle. It was a hairstyle the Capitol would be proud of.

One by one more chariots passed Blaine’s section. The wheelchair boy who was unfortunately half hidden by his chariot, a topless Asian boy wearing jeans and not much else, holding a fishing pole and looking unsure about the whole thing, a forced smile on his face.

The tributes from Five were startling. They were wearing bright contrasting colours and smiling so widely that Blaine wondered if their jaws ached. Their teeth were both gleaming unnaturally white and they held hands, waving frantically at the crowd. Blaine glanced at the screen, making a mental note to tell Kurt to avoid Jesse St James and Rachel Berry if he could.

Blaine was impressed with the tributes from Seven. A blond haired boy and a larger girl with round glasses who reminded Blaine of a bear. They wore plaid and denim and were the only tributes that looked normal at this point.

District Eight were next. Blaine held a breath as Kurt and Tina came into view. They looked stunning together, elegant against the dying sun. Kurt positively shone. He was smiling, if not a little nervously, waving at the crowd politely.

“WE LOVE YOU, DISTRICT EIGHT!” screamed someone from the stands.

Blaine saw Kurt flush slightly embarrassed before blowing the person a kiss, the corner of his eyes creasing as he grinned widely. The crowd was going nuts.

Blaine couldn’t help but copy him, his mouth splitting into a wide grin. Kurt’s eyes were searching the crowd and when they locked on Blaine and the others, his eyes noticeably softened.

“GO, KURT!” Blaine shouted before he could stop himself. Kurt raised a hand to his mouth, covering a laugh as he tore his eyes away as the chariot rode out of sight.