I'M NOT AN ACTRESS. That much was easily established last night after Liam and I returned to the fifth floor. My mentor decided that it was time to practice for my interview with Caesar and to work on my personality in general. Let's just say it took a lot of work for me to channel anything akin to "charismatic and alluring". In the end, Liam decided to call it a night, setting up a playlist of romance movies for me to watch on the screen in my room whenever I'm not training with him or otherwise occupied.

"Hold the elevator."

I glance up in time to see Padraic rushing towards the closing doors, and with a sigh, I press the 'hold doors open' option on the keypad. He squeezes past the door before it's completely open and I give him a look. He, unlike me, had no excuse for the extra 45 minutes he slept this morning, leaving him with no time to spare as he wolfed down breakfast.

Padraic and I have gotten along a bit better in the past day-'better' as in neither of us have physically attacked the other. We've mostly just avoided each other; a task which hasn't been difficult, considering the rigid schedule which Liam has set up for me.

When I'm not training in the tribute's center, I'm training with Liam.

When I'm not training with Liam, I'm eating.

While I'm eating, I'm watching those stupid movies in the hopes I'll transform into a female Finnick Odair.

When I'm not training, eating, watching stupid movies or practicing what I've learned from said movies, I'm sleeping.

Fun, right?

"You coming or not?" Padraic asks.

I snap back to reality and realize that he's already halfway down the hall. But instead of running to catch up to him, I wait until he's disappeared into the training room to exit the elevator.

Today, the training room is alive with noise. Metal clanging and grunts of effort can be heard from all corners of the room as tributes spar with trainers, lift objects, climb the obstacle courses, and practice new skills.

My eyes are automatically drawn to the obstacle course and I stare longingly at it for a moment. I can already see the path I would take; where I would flip, where to jump, where to land. It feels like an eternity since I've had that freedom.

But, Liam said not to reveal my level of agility until the private sessions. So on the ground I stay.

"Good morning."

I jump, startled, and turn to see Marin standing behind me. He smirks at my reaction and takes a step closer. "So, what station would you like to start with?"

I glance around the room. "Uh, I don't know."

Marin's smile falls a bit. "Well, what are you not good at?"

I shrug. "Nature in general, pretty much."

"Do you know how to start a fire with flint?"

I shake my head. "No."

He places a hand on my back and turns to the station dedicated to fire-starting and maintenance. "Well, here's a good place to start, then."

Inwardly, I tense at the sense of familiarity, but then I tell myself to get used to it, that a lot more than a touch on the back will be expected of me, if those foolish movies are anything to go by.

With the help of the attendant and Marin, I set about trying to start a fire with nothing but a flint, a knife, and some kindling. Throughout the process, Marin makes small talk, decidedly more warm and friendly than the day before. It calms me somewhat. But, in the back of my mind, I'm wondering if he's genuinely warming up to me, or if Finnick has been coaching him the same way that Liam is coaching me.

In return, I pluck up every ounce of charm I have and try to shape it into the girl Liam wants me to portray. I smile, I offer a small laugh in the right places, and I attempt to be both witty and alluring. By the time lunch rolls around, Marin and I are-to the outside observer-getting along famously.

He tells me about life back in Four; how the fishing boats go out every morning and come in before dinner. About the various beautiful shells they gather to send back to the Capitol-shells that sell for much more than the artificial things that One produces.

I try to think of something interesting to say about Five, but honestly, nothing really comes to mind beyond Jael, my nightly adventures, and the Tracers. And for some reason, I feel like I don't want to share that information just yet. I want to hold on to my memories and let them remain mine for just a bit longer.

During one lull in the conversation, I glance around the room, taking stock of everyone. I notice, to my complete and utter surprise, that Padraic sits at the same table as the Careers. Not exactly inside their little circle, but at the same table nonetheless.

The girl Tribute from Four also sits at the Career table, but she keeps glancing over at Marin and I, seemingly not paying that much attention to whatever those from One and Two are saying.

It dawns on me, then, that Marin is technically a Career, one of that superior group hated by all the other districts.

In my mind, I begin to tally up all of Marin's advantages; ranging from his district of origin, to all of the survival skills he has demonstrated. It all leaves me with a question.

Why pair me with him?

I mean, what do I have to offer? I'm from a poorer district, I have no outdoor survival skills, and he hasn't even seen me throw a knife or do any of my ninja-jumping. So, why did Liam and Finnick decide to pair this skilled, attractive boy with me? A barely-skilled, skinny girl from Five, with frizzy red hair and freckles.

It's no sense of unworthiness that bothers me, but more a suspicion, a wondering about what game is being played here and how I figure into it.

"That's Corina," Marin says, nodding to the girl from Four and bringing me out of my train of thought. He stands and takes both of our empty plates to the trash compactor, dumping them down the chute.

"Where would you like to go now?" he asks.

I shrug. "How about hand-to-hand?"

Marin nods. "Sounds good to me."

At the Hand-to-Hand Combat station, we spar with two attendants, seeing as it's illegal to spar with another Tribute. I practice the techniques that Liam showed me, and I actually think that I'm doing pretty well-that is, until I notice the Careers watching me, patronizing smirks on their faces. Turning my back on them, I try to pay attention to the attendant as I swing my training sword down at his blade. I miss, bringing on a round of snickers from the Careers.

I feel my face heat as I duck a blow by the attendant, a blow that nearly clips my arm.

"Ignore them," Marin advises. "They're just butthurt that I don't want to join their little clique."

Marin's advice should calm me down, but I only feel myself become more tense, missing even more blows and almost getting knocked off my feet once. Seething, I try to focus on the blade, the moves that Liam and I practiced last evening. But all I can think about is how much I loathe the group of attractive, strong, privileged kids standing a few feet away.

As I pause, I feel an arm reach around me from behind, fingers wrapping around the hilt of my sword.

"Here, sweetheart; let me show you how it's done," a male voice purrs.

I pivot to see the boy from One smirking down at me.

"I'm find, thanks," I snap, wrapping my hand over his and attempting to pull the training sword back.

He doesn't let go and I see the attendant stiffen. The room quiets a bit as the other Tributes stop what they're doing to watch.

Turning slowly, I glare up at him, trying to reign in my temper. I can't throw the first punch; heaven only knows what the punishment is for fighting with other Tributes outside of the Arena. But this arrogant guy is about ten seconds away from getting it in the groin.

"Are you sure?" he asks, the charming smile not matching the contempt in his eyes.

Glancing down at his hands, I notice a ring on his finger, obviously his district token, and an idea hits me.

"You know what," I say lightly, forcing my mouth into something like a smile. "Why don't you show me a few moves?"

Marin frowns, confused.

I lean forwards, getting beside the boy's ear. "Afterall, you might teach me something," I whisper, sliding my hand down, slipping the ring slowly off under the guise of stroking his hand.

I pull back, noting the look of slight confusion in his eyes. The boy quickly recovers though, accepting the sword as I step back, his ring hidden in my right hand. He hasn't even noticed.

The boy faces off with the attendant as Marin shoots me a questioning look. I give him a pointed look, then tip my head down towards my hand. Marin glances down, sees the ring between my index and middle fingers, and presses his lip together to contain a grin, quickly looking away.

"Show her how it's done, Carnelian," the blonde girl from One says.

I resist the urge to grimace. Honestly, the names people from One give their kids.

Within a few moments, though, it isn't Carnelian's name that I'm thinking about. It's obvious that he's had years of experience with a sword, deftly blocking all attacks by the attendant and going on the offensive with ease. Within seconds, the attendant's blade is knocked from his hands, Carnelian's blade at his throat. The boy turns to me and bows with a flourish before offering me the sword.

"Feel free to practice," he whispers, patting me on the shoulder as he walks away. I hear the Careers laughing as they saunter off.

My anger comes to a head in that moment and I turn quickly around to face their retreating backs.

"Aren't you forgeting something?" I call after them.

Carnelian turns, smirking. "What? An apology?"

I hold up the ring, pressed between my fingers.

"No, your token."

Carnelian's smirk disappears and he glances down at his hand, then back up at me.

"You little --" he growls out a name that I won't repeat.

He takes a lunging step forward, but the attendant quickly calls out, "No fighting between Tributes! Save it for the Arena!"

Carnelian glares at me, fire in his eyes.

I take a step forward, smiling sweetly. "Here you go," I purr, tossing the ring up in an arch. Turning back towards Marin, I notice many of the Tributes smiling at me in approval.

We all hate the Careers; and we all love it when someone shows them up.