- District 12, a week prior.  

As 1pm struck on the day of the annual reaping, an eerie silence filled the main square… compact with tension and anticipation, as if the entire population was holding their breath. An elevated stage had been installed for the occasion, like every time - the Gamemakers just couldn't stand lowering themselves to the people's level, it appeared. 

On stage, facing the restless crowd, a woman known as Effie Trinket stood in high heels, wearing her trademark look - a quite fascinating mixture of disgust and condescendence packed with fake sympathy and politeness plastered on her expression, equally combined with a ton of very unmatching makeup spread like butter on her entire botoxed face. Yellow lipstick, orange blush, green eyeliner, blue mascara… and a purple wig on top of that: the woman looked like a low-budget advertisement panel for a Gay Pride defilé - quite ironical, considering she couldn't have been more homophobic. 

Effie surveyed the crowd, squinting through the sunlight and inspecting each and every one of the citizen's faces patiently. It was obvious to anyone that the woman could feel the tension, and was relishing it; she was fully conscient of the power she had in her hands. Quite literally, by speaking the name written on the piece of paper crumpled in her hands, she chose the life or death of one of these people - and this lady was quite set on enjoying the suspense as much as he could. 

At last, breaking the unbearable silence roaming over the public square, Effie pursed her lips, clearing her throat, and the tiniest smile could be seen on her mouth as she uttered the two words inscribed on thepaper in the small micro. 

"Katniss… Everdeen?" 

Silence. No-one dared to speak, or raise their hand. After a few moments, the woman cleared her throat once more and repeated the name, the words tainted with impatience. Ugh, couldn't they just accept their fate already? It irritated her to the highest point whenever a tribute stalled like this. Didn't everyone have other things to do? 

"Katniss Everdeen, will you please come forth?" 

The crowd shifted, heads turning and quiet murmurs and whispers rippling through the square. Katniss? Did you see her? Not since yesterday. I saw her selling deer meat at the market, just last night.  It seemed everyone in the District knew the girl - which irritated Effie even further. 

She gave a lazy twist of her hand, glancing sideways… 

… and with that simple flick of the wrist, everything erupted into chaos.

Peacekeepers shouldered their way into the ground, not even bothering to push people out of the way - simple knocking down everyone standing on their path. "Katniss Everdeen!" They roared at unison, almost like an opera's choir. "Come forth now, or there will be severe consequences." The people scattered, getting out of the way as quick as possible, the usual terrorized looks on their faces whenever the imposing policemen came anywhere close to them.  

But Katniss Everdeen was nowhere to be found. 

At the far edge of the square, so unnoticeable one would have to squint to make their silhouette out in the shadows, a woman - in her forties, although she looked so exhausted one could've mistaked her for an elderly woman - held her daughter by the hand, a determined expression on her face. "It's gonna be okay, Primrose," she whispered to the girl. "We'll be fine. Katniss will come back. We just have to be patient… you know what to say, my dear." 

The girl nodded quietly, a ripped-up brown teddy bear held tightly to her chest.
 "When the Peacekeepers burst through the door, I'll tell them Katniss had disappeared during the night. And I'll cry, as much as I can." The girl's expression suddenly morphed to one full of sadness and childish fear, reducing her traits to that of a five-year-old's. A small tear trickled down her cheek, dropping down on the floor, and no-one who crossed the anguished girl's path at that precise moment would've resisted taking her in their arms and giving her a comforting hug. 
"Is this okay?" She lifted her head up to her mother, who nodded with a sigh. 

"Perfect, Primrose. We'll get through this, and soon she'll be tucking you under the covers, singing that song you like…" 
The girl seemed to like the idea, and pumped her chest up in pride as she started to hum Katniss' favorite melody. She knew her big sister. She was strong, brave, fierce, and really, Prim wasnt afraid for her.

Katniss could defeat all the bad guys. 

Soon, she would come home, and everything would return to how it was before...

——————

- Jason

Okay. 

So, here's just a quick recap of at what point we were waist-deep in godly shit right now...

Some kind of magical force had transported us to a parallel dictatorship world that turned out to be our planet's grim future, then what was probably the same force made us literally forget Annabeth so we didn't notice her being kidnapped to gods know where - oh, and we'd also lost Leo, and we were about to get sent to a deadly arena to fight for our lives and very probably die on the way. 

So yeah, right now, everything was absolutely perfect ! Sunshine and rainbows. 

After the bathroom incident, the five of us exited the place one by one every two minutes, so as to not appear too suspicious on camera. We then regained our luxurious dorms for curfew - obviously, no one was able to sleep - and simply pretended not to know each other for the rest of the training week. Frank and Hazel went their own way, and we stuck together - exchanging only brief nods and glances with them during meal times. 

We didn't need to risk being seen communicating again - after all, we already had everything planned. 

What do you mean, I hear you ask? Why, fellow readers, the key to a good story is keeping a sense of suspense... 

Percy, obviously, was worried sick about Annabeth - he tried not to show it, but it was evident in his eyes' scattered, lost glances and the way they kept darting between the room's corners, as if they'd catch a glimpse of her silhouette. I couldn't help but feel a pang of pity for him, of course - losing someone so abruptly, and having actually forgotten them… knowing Percy, he probably felt extremely guilty right now for having let Annabeth slip through his mind. Feeling responsible… it's what heroes excel at. 

We wrapped up our training week with a surprising lot of new assets in our pockets - perhaps that was the only positive point of this misadventure; at least if we walked out of it alive, we'd have learned how to start fires from nothing, recognize healthy and toxic plants and fruits, skin a fish… hell, I could even give participating in Survivor a shot. 

Sooner than we realized, the fatal moment we'd been talked to about during the week arrived: the "training session" with whom seemed to be called the Gamemakers. From what I gathered, we'd do our best to show our strength in front of them - do whatever we excelled at, it could be anything - and they'd watch and evaluate us,  assigning each of us an individual score, ranging from 1 to 12. 

A number… so insignificant at first glance, but in truth determining everything. 

The higher one's training score was, the more respect they had, and the higher their chance to get sponsors. 
But what were those benefits when you knew that a high mark also granted you the "Kill Priority" target hovering above your head?

If you stood out from the lot… you could be certain the Careers would hunt you down first. They supposedly weren't much of a problem against five powerful demigods, but if they really were as strong and numerous as the other tributes seemed to say, then we'd better still be on our guards. 

We waited for some time in an amazingly plain, forgettable grey room, joined by Hazel and Frank - we'd been told that not being reaped as part of any district in particular but rather as "extra" tributes, we'd pass last.
Great. So on top of everything, we had to deal with bored and drunk Gamemakers. 

"Jason… Grace?" A formally dressed woman in her twenties appeared at the door, wearing a very plain shirt matching the room's colors. I hesitantly stood up, pushed by Piper, and gave a small sigh as I followed the lady out. 

Just before leaving the room, I turned back a glance back at the other four, receiving nods of encouragement and a flashing thumbs-up from Percy. 

I had this. We had this. 

Led by the assistant through a set of winding corridors, I stopped behind a pair of bronze doors, which I guessed were the entrance to the training evaluation room. 
The woman nodded at me, pressing her lips together. "Whenever you're ready," she said, implying very clearly, But do move it, kid, I've got shit to do.

 I didn't really need that much preparation time - I hadn't thought much about what I'd do once inside the room, but I figured I'd improvise once inside… although now, facing the large doors, a sort of wave of anxiety resembling stage fright washed over me, and I had second thoughts about this… was I really up to the task? 

Unfortunately, I didn't get much time to reconsider, as the gates opened before me, leading to an enormous room filled to the brim with weapons, stuffed dummies, archery targets and so much more. To the side, an elaborate banquet was disposed - already mostly eaten up by the row of judges I supposed were the gamemakers, sitting their remarkably fat bodies on comfortable purple couches as they watched me intently. "We've been curious about you, Jason Grace," one of them declared. "Show us your skill, and let us confirm if the rumors running amongst the Peacekeepers are indeed true…" 

Oh, well… what choice did I have anyway? 
Giving a last resignated sigh, I stepped into the room, the doors slamming shut behind me. 

Author's Note (July 17th)

Eyyo! I hope you enjoyed this a bit out of the usual chapter, longer than most and split into two parts.
The Games are coming soon...

By now, I'm considering splitting this story into two books, since we're at 32 chapters and haven't even gotten to the start of the games yet 😅

So yeah I'll keep you guys updated- and I'll see you around!