I try to breathe calmly. The nightmares have come back.

Ever since my mother died, I'm occasionally having nightmares about her being shot down by the Peacekeepers.

District 12 is surrounded by a fence, and my family happens to live at such a border. Outside the fence are woods. Forbidden area. My family used to be there a lot. My father taught me how to hunt, and my mother watched us with a blissful smile.

One day, I had finally taken down my first rabbit with the bow my father had given to me, we suddenly heard a woman's cry. My stomach twisted when I recognised the voice. My father immediately dropped his bow and headed in this direction. I ran after him, tears already forming in my eyes.

When my father stopped, I hid behind him and glanced to the spot where he was looking at. It happened quick, too quick for my young self to process everything. There was blood. Lots of blood. A woman's body in a puddle of red. I felt my father's limbs trembling before his knees gave in.

I wipe the small film of sweat from my forehead and try to calm myself. I lie down again and bury my face in one of the pillows. Despite my efforts I'm not able to fall asleep again.

Several hours later, Rachel Berry knocks on my door and calls me for breakfast. I dress and make my way to the dining room.

As I enter, Quinn and Jesse are chatting and laughing about something. Well, she's talking – he just looks at her in a friendly way, like he doesn't want her any harm. At least I know who his favourite is, who he will support and prepare for the Games. Not me. However, I catch myself not caring – after all, I want Quinn to be save. I know I'm going to die anyway.

I sit down next to my friend and take a roll from the basket on the table.

Rachel pours some steaming, brown liquid into my cup. “Hot chocolate?” she asks with a smile. I look at Quinn to see her being as confused as I am. None of us know what to make of it since we've never drank it before.

“Trust me, it's delicious!” Rachel says as she sees our confusion. I shrug and take a sip.

Closing my eyes, I cherish the warm, sweet taste on my tongue. I've never tasted anything like this before.

“Told you so!” Rachel giggles and I realise that my cup is empty. She smiles at Quinn and me before she pours some more into our cups.

Throughout breakfast, Rachel keeps talking excitedly about the Games for which she earns annoyed looks from Jesse.

I realise that he hasn't spoken yet. That's odd for a victor since he's supposed to to help the tributes. When I think about it, he's never done much to keep those kids alive. He let them die in the arena. I look down at my plate. This year is going to be different. He has to help us. Help me keeping Quinn alive.

“Rachel, will you shut up already!” My head snaps as I hear him speak for the first time. Rachel shoots him an angry glare and storms out. I can hear Quinn giggle.

I clear my throat and decide to ask him straight away. There's no reason in waiting too long.

“So, any advice how to stay alive in the arena?” Jesse looks at me and chuckles. “Don't die,” he says before he leaves the room as well.

I clench my hands. Don't die. Like I've been planning to die and leave Quinn alone, without protection.

She notices my tension and rests her hand on my shoulder. “Don't worry, I'm sure he'll give us some useful advice before the Games start.” I manage to smile at her.

How did former victors survive? They had allies. And we would need allies.

I suddenly catch myself thinking about the boy from District 11.

-

When we arrive in the Capitol, I'm taken aback at first. Of course, I've seen it on television before, but no camera can capture its full impression. Everything is so big and bright and colourful, even the people. They're wearing the fanciest and craziest clothes I've ever seen. Everyone wears make-up, men and women.

There are so many reporters and cameras awaiting us at the train station that I'm blinded for a moment. Quinn grips my arm for support and I smile at her.

We are led into the Remake Centre where our prep teams would make us look “acceptable”. A small woman grabs my arm and drags me to a wide, light room.

“You're Kurt, right?” She smiles as I nod. “I'm Tina, and this is Santana.” She points out a beautiful woman leaning against the wall across the room.

Santana yawns and mumbles, “You seen Brittany?” Tina shoots me an apologetic look. “Sorry, we're waiting for Brittany. She's usually late.”

I try to smile but fail. These people will help me look pretty for the audience, and then they'll watch me die.

A few minutes later, the door bursts open and a blonde girl who looks my age enters the room.

“There you are!” Santana smiles and hugs the other girl tight. Tina rolls her eyes at them and whispers, “Sorry about them, they've been together for only a couple of weeks.”

“But.. but they're...” Tina interrupts me. “I know, it's not appreciated in the districts, but people in the Capitol have no problem with it. In fact, they praise it.”

I raise my eyebrows and look back at Santana and Brittany. They're smiling at each other, leaning in for a kiss. They look so happy.

I think about 12. This kind of relationship would never be possible if you don't want to be ridiculed and eventually beaten up for the rest of your life. It's not that the Peacekeepers have a problem with it. The people who live there do. They say it's a sin, they strongly believe in the concept of a man and a woman marrying and having kids. Now that I think about it, this might be an idea the Capitol has set into their minds. Of course they want people in the districts have kids, who else could be sent into the arena?

I barely notice my prep team tugging on my clothes and hair and rubbing my skin.

An hour later, the three of them step back to admire their work. My hair feels soft and perfectly coiffed, my skin is gleaming and every bruise is covered by make-up.

I sit down, only wearing the robe they've handed me, as the three of them leave the room. I haven't been allowed to look in the mirror yet so I'm not quite sure what they've done to my face. My skin is still tingling from the lotion they've rubbed me down with.

I look up when the door cracks open and a tiny woman enters the room. Are all Capitol citizens that small? A smile spreads on her face when she sees me.

“Kurt?” I nod. “I'm Mercedes, your stylist.” I shoot her a small smile as she approaches me. Mercedes seems nice. So did my prep team. But I can't abandon the thought of them watching me die on television. After all, they're from the Capitol. They've never been at risk of being a tribute. Their children never will be.

The next few hours belong to Mercedes. First she insists on having lunch and a talk. The food is the only thing in the Capitol I could get used to eventually.

“So, Kurt, tell me about yourself.” I keep shovelling food into my mouth. What's there to know about me? I swallow and think for a moment.

“There's nothing to tell about,” I say quietly and turn to my plate again. Mercedes doesn't give up that easily though.

“Look, Kurt, I'm trying to be your friend. So, do you have any hobbies or--” - “You mean, except being one of the Capitol's toys?”

She looks at me in horror and I look down. I didn't mean to say it. I'm not allowed to say it.

I almost expect Peacekeepers to burst in and shoot me, but Mercedes smiles at me and says, “Anything else?” I can't help but laugh. Maybe she isn't that bad.

After we've finished out meal, Mercedes works on my outfit for the opening ceremonies.

Each tribute has to wear something that suggests their district's principal industry. District 12 is coal mining, so I expect Mercedes to dress me in one of those ugly coal miner's outfits.

However, she grins at me and says, “Don't you worry, sweetheart, they'll love you.”

-

The opening ceremonies are almost as big as the Hunger Games themselves.

The tributes look extraordinary. I watch them as we ride through the crowded streets on our chariots.

The tributes of District 1, a tall blond boy and a beautiful brunette, are wearing silver sparkling gowns and seem to be glowing. I can see from my spot at the end of the line that they have wild, dangerous eyes. At least now I know who will be our biggest threat.

Quinn clasps my hand and I rub her back soothingly. “It's gonna be fine,” I whisper as she looks at the crowd anxiously. I force a smile and she follows my example.

Quinn looks stunning. Her rose skin is glowing, her blond hair is wavy and shining, her eyes are sparkling. Eventually, I draw my attention to the chariot in front of us.

My eyes remain on him for the rest of the night.

-

There's a moment during the ceremonies when our eyes meet. Eyes like liquid gold looking into mine, smiling at me, sending sparks.

The moment is gone too soon.

Quinn finally lets go of my hand. I didn't realise she was holding it the whole time.

“Kurt, are you alright?” she asks. I look at her, smile, nod.

The rest of the night is a blur.

-

I'm sitting on the rooftop of the Training Centre, the place where we're going to live and train for the next days. Even though it's a beautiful and clear night, I can't see the stars. Quinn told me that you can't see them because of the city lights. They're too bright.

I take a deep breath and try to savour the night.

What happened at the ceremonies? I got distracted. By a boy. A handsome boy. A boy I have to kill eventually.

Whatever this is, it's wrong.

I lie down and close my eyes.

“Oh! Sorry, I--” I sit up and turn around. Who else knows about this place? A Career who would love to kill me right here and now?

The person is standing in the shadows. Tiny. Male. Trying to get back to the door.

“Wait!” I hear myself saying. “Who's there, who are you?” - “I didn't want to... uhm, I'm sorry...” His voice is soft and a little husky. Soothing, really. “I want to know who you are,” I demand.

The boy steps out of the shadows.

I see dark curls. Slightly parted lips. Eyes like liquid gold.

“You're... You're Kurt, right? District 12?” he asks as he comes closer. I swallow hard and look away. “And you're Blaine. District 11.” He's sitting down next to me and I shiver.

“Are you cold?” Blaine asks quietly. I shake my head and look at my hands. This is the last thing I need right now – caring opponents.

“You have goosebumps all over your arms...” I feel a small electric shock when he touches my elbow. He seems to sense it because he takes his hand back.

I get up on my feet and walk away from him.

“So, Blaine. How old are you, fifteen?” Blaine, who's standing now as well, chuckles. “I'm seventeen.” I look at him and he blushes.

“People think I'm younger because... well...” - “You're short.” - “Gee, thanks.” He rolls his eyes dramatically. What a douche.

“It's not like you can do something about it, can you? I mean, you could wear high heels, I've seen some men here do that. I don't think that's quite your style though.” This time, he actually laughs. I gulp and walk further away from him.

I keep striding around and he watches me.

After a while, I snap. “Don't you have something better to do?” However, he doesn't look impressed.

“I knew you were up here.” I raise my eyebrows. “You're friend – Quinn's her name, right? She told me you were here.”

I stop to look at him. “And what do you want?”

“I just...” He steps closer. Too close. I can smell a hint of perfume and something unique. “I just wanted to wish you good luck, and tell you that... you looked amazing tonight.”

I swallow hard and mutter something about suits and make-up and stylists. Blaine blushes again and clears his throat.

“Well, I should, uhm. I should go.” I nod as he turns around. Have I upset him? Offended him? Why do I care?

“Blaine, wait!” I say before I can stop myself. “Uhm, good luck to you, too.”

His face brightens and he nods at me before he leaves.

I sit down again and touch my flushed cheeks.

What have I gotten myself into?