Prologue

Disclaimer: All Hunger Games characters and core personality traits are the property of Suzanne Collins. I own nothing, nor do I plan on profiting from using her work. No copyright infringement is intended.

Prologue; The Career

The audience watched with rapt attention, not a soul able to look away from the stunning tribute. The boy, more man than anyone in the world could claim to be, exuded the most perplexing conundrum of vibes that had even the seasoned and unshakable Caesar Flickerman baffled in his handling of this particular interview.

Being able to recognize the young blonde as lethal was as easy as sensing death from the center of a swarm of Tracker Jackers, but he was more beautiful than any advanced Capital procedure could replicate. The boy had a smile that could lure even the flightiest of creatures to their demise and the sheltered women of The Capital didn’t have an ounce of self preservation in their entire bodies.

Panem was in love in ways that put Finnick O’dair to shame.

“As of the latest figures, you have the highest odds out of the entire lot, my boy,” Flickerman continued after sensationally witty introductions, grinning with that air of personal warmth he seemed to be capable of replicating no matter his company, “With chances like those, you must have already purchased your ticket home.”

The audience giggled as a collective entity.

“I’m much more comfortable with action than planning, Caesar. I’ll buy that ticket when I’ve earned it,” the boy said humbly.

Not a single one of the other tributes believed a breath of that; not only his show of modest self-confidence but more importantly, the notion that he wasn’t an absolutely master of strategy.

The blue-haired show host seemed genuinely taken in, patting the charming character’s shoulder. “We’re sure you will, we’re sure you will…” he waved his hand and was instantly backed by the mass cries of reassurance and faith, “But when you have, my boy, what is it you want most from that bright future?”

It would ordinarily be a cruel question, considering the grand majority of the children to walk that stage hadn’t even the most negligible of chances at a future that didn’t end in a painful and highly publicized death, but few held any doubt of this candidate’s abilities and Caesar was able to take liberties.

The alpha male grew pensive for a moment, short enough to fit nicely into the brief interview allotment, then leaned into Flickerman as one might while sharing secret, “To be honest, I’ve always wanted a family.”

Every womb in the audience ached simultaneously and women of all ages cooed at his sweetness. Most competitors from his district were machines so bent on killing that even faking a desire for such human urges was beyond them.

Flickerman placed a hand to his chest in a show of fighting back deep emotion, “Well none of us have any doubt you would be more than capable of protecting your brood,” he flattered shamelessly, inciting laughter, “And I couldn’t imagine anything short of a full line of young ladies vying for your affections. Do we have any special girl in particular out there rooting for you?”

The blonde smiled, surprisingly skilled at conveying wistfulness, “There’s a girl out there, Caesar, the most beautiful in all the districts and braver than any of them combined. However, I can guarantee she isn’t rooting for me.”

The viewers gasped, sure that no girl in her right mind could possibly resist such a specimen of virile and masculinity. Already the flighty females of the Capital were prepared to leave their wealthy husbands for the district visitor should he so much as grace them with a glance in their direction.

Flickerman clucked with indignation on his companion’s behalf, “I’ll tell you what. You go out, and you win these games and I’m sure you’ll win her heart right along with them.”

The boy’s eyes flashed directly into the camera as the last seconds of his interview dwindled by, all of Panem privy to the unsettling ice-blue hue of a powerful predator and for a beat in time, it seemed as if the whole of the nation felt the chill of his intensity.

“Winning wont help me in this cause, I’m afraid. When I watched her sacrifice herself to save her sister I knew she was the one for me…

I also knew I’d have to kill her.”

The chime of the buzzer went unheard as the crowd dissolved into earsplitting peels of scandal and excitement at the confession of Peeta Mellark, career tribute from District One.

Behind the stage, Katniss’ knees buckled with fear.

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