Finnick and I devise a plan to get him out of there. I ask him to pretend that Finnick is here to visit him. Besides, the only people who need to be fooled are Fallon, Augustus, and Clove, but the latter two will find out soon enough anyway. So I walk out a few minutes before them. I greet everyone in the kitchen and read over my notes like I usually do while eating a bowl of yogurt with granola and scrumptious strawberries.

A few minutes later, Finnick and Brutus enter, talking as if they finished a big conversation. Finnick shakes Brutus's hand, "See you later, man. Thanks for meeting with me, I'll see you later tonight."

Brutus turns back to return to his room.

Fallon looks flabbergasted. She looks between the door and Finnick as if trying to figure out how he got there. "Mr. Odair, I didn't see you come in..."

Finnick is in his voice that he uses when speaking to the press. "Oh, you know me, I'm elusive like that." He winks at Fallon, and she blushes.

He turns to me as if he's just noticed that I'm there. "Oh, hey, Octavia." He furrows his brows and looks at my face, he points to his lip. "Um, you got something right there," he says as he walks by me and towards the door.

That cheeky bastard. I touch my upper lip to find that there's yogurt on it. I wipe it off with a napkin. Enobaria gives me a knowing smirk. I bet that Finnick is pleased with himself right now.

Once Finnick is gone, Fallon begins to laugh to herself. Cato looks to me as if asking if Fallon usually laughs to herself. I shrug not knowing what is going on.

"Um, Fallon, are you okay?"

Apparently, something I'd said makes her laugh even more. She tries to catch her breath, speaking between laugh. "I'm sorry it's just that..." Fallon glances at me and starts laughing harder. "My friends have been asking me if you and Mr. Odair were an item because of the gossip columns... and of course with my job, I can't really say anything anyways ... but you and him." Fallon's laughter picks up again. "Oh, that's just so funny. I can't believe they think that. There's just no spark what-so-ever!"

I don't know whether to be offended that Fallon thinks that Finnick and I have 'no spark at all' or glad that she's not onto us.

Cato decides to join in on the conversation much to my dismay. "I think he's out of her league."

I'm gonna kill him. Enobaria chuckles, taking her meal to her bedroom, presumably to get away from the circus going on here.

Luckily Fallon is on my side because she doesn't yet know that Cato is my brother. "Young man, I'll have you know that your Mentor is one of the most beautiful and sought after women in all of Panem." She rests one of her gloved hands on my leg, patting it reassuringly. "If anything, you're out of his league, my dear."

I'm so going to use that one on Finnick next time he makes fun of me. "Young man, why don't you go find Clove and do something productive."

Having no choice but to listen to me, Cato gives me a glare when Fallon isn't looking and heads over to the tribute rooms.

Maybe at this point, I'll get some peace and quiet before things pick up this afternoon. I continue to look over all my notes, looking at the scores I'd given to each of the tributes on a scale of one to twelve on how big of a threat they were and making sure that I hadn't missed anything. I'd make a list like this at a few different points in the games, and I had to make sure that my first one was perfect.

Now, currently, the boy from 11 seems to be the biggest threat. For sure, the top threat at the moment. Maybe I...

I feel a presence staring at me and turn to see Fallon, who seems like she wants to say something to me.

"Is it true?"

I look at her in confusion. "Is what true?"

"Don't worry, my dear, anything you say stays between you and I. Mentor-Escort privilege."

What is she on about? "Fallon, I don't know what you're talking about."

Fallon looks as if she doesn't know how to say it without sounding impolite. "You and the Head Game Maker."

If I was still eating my yogurt, I would've choked on it. "Fallon, that's just another rumour."

She stays silent and nods, seemingly guilty about asking me the question. "If it's not to bold for me to say, it's an excellent match for a woman of your stature." I look to her, not knowing what she means. " You're both quite popular with the public and are practically Capitol royalty. It would be a smart match."

I don't know what to think of that. I like to think that I'm nothing like Seneca, but when she says it like that, it makes us sound so similar. I'm a survivor of his games, teaching kids how to survive, and only playing along in these political games for survival. So I'm nothing like him, right?

"That is a little bold Fallon. Seneca Crane is... not my type."

"Well I mean he's rich and handsome, what else could you want?"

"If you think he's so great, why don't you date him Fallon?"

"My dear, Seneca is... above my station. I'm merely an Escort, and he's the Games themselves, as wonderful as that would be it would never happen. But you... a powerful man always needs a powerful woman."

If only love was that simple. I try and put it into terms that Fallon may understand. "It's his beard, Fallon. I hate it."

"I have to agree, it is a bit hideous isn't it," Fallon says as if she's speaking about the biggest scandal of the year.

"So no, I'm not and never will be interested in Seneca Crane," I start to gather my things from the table, realizing that I should go start to make plans Cato and Clove or Brutus and Enobaria. "And you know what, feel free to tell your friends that one too."

Fallon looks ecstatic, seeing that now she'll have the hottest gossip.

I go to leave, but Fallon calls out to me. "One last thing, my dear." She motions for me to come close to her. "Some say that he can get a little... irrational and short-sighted this time of year if things don't go his way."

I nodded at Fallon, considering her words carefully. She looked too scared to say anything else; in fact, the way she's acted tells me that she thinks she might have said too much. But based on the hints she was dropping, Mr. Crane seems to be a little neurotic when it came to the games, and possibly has a bad temper when things escalate.

As much fun as it would be to mess with that man just to see him explode, this isn't the time for me to do it. I need to stay on Mr. Crane's good side no matter how creepy or delusional or politically dumb I find him to be.

Yuck.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

That feeling of 'yuck' only got worse when I read the letter that Fallon had given me earlier this morning that I forgot to open.

My Dear Friend Octavia,

As I'm sure you're aware, the first Sponsors and Mentors event of these wonderful 74th Annual Hunger Games is tonight, and I will be in attendance. I look forward to finding out what surprises you have in store for this year's games.

Yours Truly,

Seneca Crane, Head Game Maker

I sigh. Ugh, disgusting. I do not want to talk to this man. First of all, whoever told him his beard looked good was lying to him. Second, I don't like him, Snow doesn't like him, Plutarch doesn't like him. Does anyone even like him? In the Capitol, it's a wonder he's still alive under those circumstances. But if the Head Game Maker tells you to do something, you do it. I need to speak to Snow and Plutarch about this, figure out what to do about this. The Head Game Makers always speak with the Mentors, that's customary, but I've never gotten an invitation like this.

I push the thought away and try to focus on everything. Cato and Clove would have to leave to go to the re-make centre in just under an hour. I throw on a casual black jumpsuit so that when I go down to deliver them, I at least look somewhat presentable if there are important people watching.

I throw on the jumpsuit and tie my hair back into my signature ponytail. I read my notes and head over to the living room and see only Clove sitting there. Everyone else must still be getting ready.

I sit in a seat not too far from where Clove is and continue to go over my notes.

I feel a pair of eyes on me for the second time today. I look up and see that Clove is staring at me with a hurt expression on her face. "You've been avoiding me."

I go to say that it's ridiculous, of course, I haven't been avoiding her, but then I realize she's right. I'm not going to lie; I was mad when she volunteered. She knew that my brother was going. How could you ever want to go into the arena with someone you consider to be your best friend? How could you want to be put in a situation where you might have to kill someone close to you. Not only that, but I didn't want to see a kid that I had watched grow up alongside my brother die. And as painful as it is, Cato will come first. I just wish she hadn't put me in that position.

"We thought that we would have better odds. Going together," says Clove absently.

"Did you ever even think about the fact that you're going to have to watch each other die? Or maybe even kill each other? Do you know how messed up that is?"

Clove is quick with a response. Clearly, she's thought about this a lot. "It's better that one of us dies than both of us." I'm taken aback. That seems to be such a...cold way of looking at it. "We've seen how careers have gotten so close to winning, but because they don't have someone strong enough to back them up, they die. Hadriana was weak. She would've gotten Cato killed. And whoever I was going to be paired with next year would've gotten me killed."

I want to say something, that this is not the case, but Clove continues. "You know that after Cato's gone, we don't have anyone on the men's side. So we made a pact to go together. Strength in numbers."

Clove looks so absent as she says these words as if she's trying to be unemotional about all of it.

"Clove... I'm sorry I've been avoiding you. I might not understand everything, but I'll try and put it aside to be a better mentor. After all, you were my knife throwing girl back at the academy, right?" There weren't many students who could actually master the craft that I had an affinity towards.

Clove seems to come back to earth a little bit at my words. She smiles. "This is going to be totally embarrassing to say, but I actually picked knife throwing because I wanted to be like you."

I smile. "That's not embarrassing." I lean closer to her to whisper. "Don't tell Cato, but knife throwing is so much better than swords."

Cato walks into the living room. "Don't tell Cato what?"

Clove and I begin to laugh. Even though this conversation didn't fix everything, it reminded me that I have to act normal around Clove.

Soon enough, Augustus and I take Cato and Clove down to the re-make centre, which is basically an underground walkway to a building right across from us. The tunnels go under the main road where the chariots are to the re-make centre and horse stables so that the Tribute Parade ends at the tower and everyone can go right upstairs afterwards.

The underground walkway is nothing glamours, and if I'm honest, a bit too far of a walk for my liking. What can I say? Even though I love training, I'm not crazy enough to love cardio. That would be crossing a line.

Cato and Clove aren't yet allowed to mingle with the other tributes, so Augustus and I try to keep them entertained on the way there. We all exchange stories about funny moments that we had at the academy, a conversation that would keep our tributes from getting nervous.

Augustus tells a story about how he didn't notice that his roommate had dropped out for four months. Cato mentions the time that he thought he woke up in the morning to go to the academy, so he walked over there only to find out that it was the middle of the night. Next, Clove tells us how she accidentally hit a girl who walked in front of the target. I remember that one, and boy was it a bloody mess.

They all look to me expectantly as we walk down the long hallway. "Fine, fine," I say, giving in. "One time my roommate, well the second roommate I had, kept hiding my knives, and she wouldn't stop. I kept getting in trouble for losing them." I grin mischievously.

Clove seems to understand this and her eyes go wide at the atrocity. "That monster! What did you do?"

"Well the next time we were doing hand to hand combat, I stepped on her ankle. She was in crutches for the rest of the year. Never messed with me again. That's for sure."

Cato's mouth is almost agape. "What? How come Octavia back then was badass, and now you're always telling me 'no Cato revenge is not the way' or 'no Cato don't hit that guy'?"

I chuckle. "I learned to be more subtle is what happened. I got a month probation for that move." I quirk my eyebrow evilly. "What I really should've done was put contraband in her dresser—"

Clove turns to me excitedly. "I was thinking of doing that to Hadriana!" Bless Clove and her strange little heart.

Soon we reach the end of the hallway, and I hand Cato and Clove off to their stylist. District 2 has always been pretty good in terms of styling. Most of the new designers wanted to design for a career district, so we end up with some pretty cool outfits every once and a while. Mostly, they tend to go with some sort of warrior themeing. To be honest, it doesn't really have to do with our district's craft so much as it pulls from our prowess and dominance during the Hunger Games.

For the first time in a while, I see none other than Haymitch Abernathy approaching me. "Miss Jones, how nice of you to bring your little blood thirsters down yourself. Were your maids busy or something?"

I chuckle. If there's one person who was intent on keeping me humble, it's Haymitch. "Thank you, Haymitch. You know how much I love taking the three-mile walk down here."

Haymitch looks me up and down sarcastically, moving his hair out of his face. "Based on the fact that you're terrifyingly muscular, I can't tell if you're joking or not."

I hold in a chuckle, shaking my head slightly. "Thank you, Haymitch; I'll take that as a compliment."

Haymitch looks past me to Augustus. Classically, Augustus looks completely star-struck and terribly confused. I'm not too sure that he understands the fact that Haymitch is joking...or at least a little bit joking. "Who's your little friend here?"

I can't decide whether or not Haymitch is actually too drunk to remember that Augustus won last year, or Haymitch is trying to pull his leg.

Augustus shifts around nervously. "Uh, I'm Augustus I won last year...oh look there's Gloss," says Augustus as he takes his leave.

Haymitch gives me a smug smile. The only thing I can do is give him a sigh and a nod.

Haymitch breaks the silence the only way he knows how. "How's your little boy toy?"

I try not to roll my eyes. "He's doing great, thanks for asking."

"So don't you just love touching his bronzed abs."

His sense of humour really is one of a kind. "Haymitch, we're not talking about this."

"What about the ocean blue eyes that you get lost in."

Nope, I am not having this conversion with him. "Goodbye, Haymitch."

He doesn't relent. "The luscious lips."

"Goodbye, Haymitch," I say, evacuating the area quickly. I wave at him as I walk back through the tunnel quickly, not wanting to hear another word that comes out of that man's mouth.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~

I walk into the elevator with everyone on the District 2 floor. Fallon did my hair and makeup in preparation for the events tonight, and I'm dressed in the beautiful dress that Fallon helped me pick from the dresses she'd received from the designers. We settled on a black dress with decorative embroidered accents and a bodice that made the dress look as if it could be a soft armour. Needless to say, the dress was very me. My hair was slicked back into a long ponytail, and my eyes were done with a black that made them look smokey. All in all, I looked like a total badass, in my humble opinion.

We exit the elevator, all four of us, and make our way to the seats being reserved for us in the crowd. They give all the mentors and escorts front row seats near the end of the parade route so that we could leave a few minutes early and make it to where the tributes disembark their chariots before they get there. Luckily, we're intermingled with some of the sponsors, and the rich ones too.

I spot Finnick a few seats over from where we're meant to be sitting, and he sends me a wink. Before I can make my way over to him or take my seat, however, I'm stopped by a reporter. "Tererria Green here with the Ceasar Flickerman show, would you be able to join me for a short segment? It'll just be a couple questions about the tribute parade."

Perfect, Ceasar Flickerman is the exclusive provider of on-air coverage of the games, so I've just hit the jackpot. "I would love to."

Tererria and her crew show me where to stand, my back facing where the chariots are meant to come through. She hands me an earpiece as well so that I can hear Ceasar when he comes through.

I see Finnick mouth to me 'superstar,' and I try to suppress a laugh. Augustus leans over to Enobaria, confused as to why I was getting interviewed, as they usually didn't talk to the mentors at this time, but she simply points for him to watch.

Tererria hands me the microphone and signals to me that I should start to hear Caesar in my ear. "...and we're going down to the track to talk with fan-favourite Victor, Octavia Jones!"

I nod happily. "Thanks for having me, Caesar."

"Now, Octavia, can you tell us a little bit about the tribute parade?"

"Of course. I am standing in-front the all-important spot where this year's tributes are about to make their Capitol debut by showing off their district pride," I say in my presenting voice.

"Octavia, can you tell us, as someone who's been through a parade themselves before, how important is this parade and what does it feel like to be in it?"

"The importance of this event cannot be overstated. This is the tributes' first chance to show the sponsors, and the audience, what they're made of. As for how it feels, my adrenaline was pumping for hours after my parade. Having nearly 100,000 people cheering for you is a surreal feeling to have."

"That's all the time we have right now, but we'll catch up with you later in the games," says Caesar.

I give a signature smirk. "I'm sure you will, Caesar."

After handing the microphone back to Tererria, I walk back to my seat. Proud of my performance, I know my face probably has a smug look on it. Oh well.

Brutus leans over to me. "I'm going to tell everyone back home that you're a reporter now."

Yup, and there goes my ego boost.

Augustus leans over Enobaria to talk to me. "How did you do that? How did you know what to say?"

Brutus leans over me to answer Augustus. "She does a lot of work here in the Capitol. She's used to this kind of stuff." I sometimes forget that people back in my district, or any other district for that matter, people couldn't see things me in magazine spreads, or the tabloids, or on regular TV shows. The media in the Capitol is a closed and separate circuit from that of the districts', so most people in Panem only see my face or hear my name during the games.

I feel bad for the outer districts because this is yet another disadvantage they have. They don't have the young, 'trendy' Victors that some of the inner districts have, meaning they don't have people in the Capitol during the year. It's a massive advantage for the tributes if their Mentor is well known to the Capitol all-year-round.

Before I can put much more thought into it, I hear the crowd begin to pick up. They're coming. We all stand up in anticipation.

The kids from 1 come out in obnoxious pink outfits, but then I see it. Cato and Clove are wearing golden armour that makes them look like ancient gladiators. Absolutely stunning. There's no way that they won't be the talk of the town. Cato waves confidently at the crowd. I give Cato a smile as he waves at us as his chariot whizzes by.

But then I see it. The overhead banners projecting the tributes changes from Cato and Clove's faces, to the kids from 12. And not just their banners, all of them. They're on fire. Actual fire. But somehow they're not burning. They join hands and raise them up in the air, the crowd going wild at the gesture.

I turn to glare at Haymitch, who is sitting behind me and clapping enthusiastically. He gives me a smug smile in return and pats me on the back patronizingly. Before I can do anything, however, the attendants come to escort us to the chariot receiving area.

The other mentors and I begin whispering to one another. "What the hell was that?" asks Enobaria.

I shrug. That's something I would like to know too.

Fallon speaks up. "That's Cinna's work. We offered him a place as our new designer, but he turned it down... insisted he wanted 12."

Enobaria and I exchange glances. There's got to be something weird going on here.

Brutus turns to us reassuringly. "It's gonna be fine. Once we drop the bomb on them, we'll have the sponsors eating out of our hands."

Clustered together, we all begin to plan our next moves to make up for the spotlight stolen here tonight.

"...what was that girl's name even? Katnip?" I ask.

Augustus chimes in. "I think it was Kat-niss. And the boy's name sounds like a bread."

I snap my fingers at him, remembering the boy from 12's name. "Peeta. You know I think he was the mastermind behind all of that. She looked like she didn't want to even grab his hand. Maybe we try to pull him into our alliance? Steal a bit of his social hype, and he doesn't look like he'd be a burden to the group."

Brutus nods. "We'll see how training goes— there they are."

The chariots enter the receiving area. As soon as Cato and Clove are out of the public eye, I see their faces drop into annoyance and frustration. I get it. I would be too. But this is something that's out of their control.

Once they're closer, I can see the fire in Cato's eyes. This isn't going to be fun.

As soon as the chariot comes to a stop in front of us, Cato hops down in a huff, the throws off his helmet. "What the hell was that? We just got showed up by 12! 12 for crying out loud!"

The designers proceed to try and calm him down. Cato continues to rant but falls into a silence once he spots Katniss and Peeta not too far from us, talking to Haymitch. The other mentors keep talking to Clove, but I begin to glare at the group from 12 as well.

My brother's life is on the line. I'm not going to let people who wear pretty dresses, and fake fire jeopardize that.

Soon Haymitch catches our glare. Katniss must've noticed because she turns around to see Cato and I glare at them. An emotion that I can't recognize flashes in her face.

After a moment, I see Haymitch usher his group away from us, sending a final glare back to me once the rest of the group from 12 aren't looking. He's going to chastise me for this later.

That's right. Run away 12. Because my brother will be the Victor. He's going to live.

Katniss' POV

Peeta and I actually didn't do that bad. I wasn't sure about the whole hand-holding thing at first, but they seemed to love it. It's strange how they can be so excited to see us now but will root for our deaths in two weeks.

I try to put off the thought as Cinna and the other members of our stylist team approach us. "That. Was. Amazing."

"Ugh, we are all anyone is going to be talking about!" says Effie's shrill voice.

Haymitch gives me an annoyingly knowing look as if he's surprised that I did so well. "So brave," he says mockingly.

"Are you sure you should be near an open flame?" I ask dryly.

Haymitch, the know-it-all, doesn't miss a beat. "Fake flame. Are you sure you should—" He pauses as if his eye has caught sight of something.

Knowing there isn't much that will stop him from criticizing me, I turn to see the sight for myself.

There, right behind us, is the blond-haired boy from 2, staring at me. His figure is daunting, he looks like a warrior, and it's not just the costume, you can tell that he came from one of the specialized training academies. Beside him, a girl who I assume to be a Mentor with a long ponytail and heavy black eye makeup is also looking at me. Her eyes glare icy daggers at me as if I were somehow responsible for killing her cat. They must be angry that Peeta and I have stolen the spotlight from them.

Haymitch, noticing the discomfort their glaring is causing, suggests that we all go upstairs.

I look back to the blonde boy and his Mentor one last time, curiosity getting the best of me. Their eyes haven't moved from me. I see Peeta sneak a glance at them as well.

I look at the girl who's the Mentor, and I still feel uneasy. Her look isn't the usual predator looking at their prey look, but instead looks like she's in a genuine, yet angry, deep thought.

Cinna gently guides me forward, probably out of concern, not wanting me to be too irked by their gazes.

"Who was that?" I quietly ask so that only Cinna can hear me.

"District 2, I think his name is Cato—"

I stop Cinna. "No, the girl."

Cinna sighs. "Just a mentor from 2. Octavia. But don't worry about her, she's not someone you need to concern yourself with."

I nod, trying to convince myself of Cinna's words, but I can't help but feel that there's something more to this girl that he's not saying. I decide to drop the subject, for now, at least, seeing as I don't want to push away one of the only people I trust here.

A/N here's our first look at Octavia through Katniss' eyes! Let me know how you liked it! Based on my planning it looks like the next chapter will move a little faster and include the Mentor/Sponsor party, and cover a large chunk of the tribute's training period (if not all). Let me know how you liked it and what your favourite part was (if you have one)!

And once again, shout out to my lovely Beta reader ParadoxicalMoose !

Chapterly Meme:

Finnick: Close your eyes bro.

Cato: Okay, bro.

Finnick: What do you see bro?

Cato: Nothing bro.

Finnick: That's my life without you bro.

Cato: Bro...

~

Octaiva Gossiping with Fallon: