The 74th Hunger Games.

District Twelve.

Lola is wearing a black, floor length dress with off the shoulder long sleeves, and black open-toe heels. Her nails are filed into points and painted black with silver lines all over them. Her toes are plain silver. Her strawberry blonde hair is in a curled chignon, with pieces surrounding her face and sparkly clips. Her jewellery consists of a black rope choker with two lavender coloured butterfly charms attached at the throat, an amethyst ring on her left middle finger, a silver chain on her right wrist, and silver waterfall earrings. Finally, her makeup is silver winged eyeliner, pink-purple toned sparkling eyeshadow and black lipgloss.

Lola's POV.

The crowd sits eagerly. They cling to the edges of their seats. Every sound is dulled. I hear my own breathing as if through a glass tube. Echoing and pounding through me. I am standing with Chase, Katniss, Effie and Haymitch.

Katniss has her hands on my shoulders. Chase holds my elbow like a true gentleman. Haymitch looks bored out of his mind, swirling scotch around in the bottom if his low crystal glass. Effie bounces on her toes, always exited for something.

My prep team comes up one last time. Vinea, Portia and Flauvius pick away at me. Portia fixes chignon, tucking loose strands in. Flauvis smoothes my black floor length dress. Vinea makes sure my silver cat eyeliner and black lipgloss are in place. They all fuss with my choker, my earrings, my anklet, my bracelet, anything they can let out their nervous energy doing.

And then it happens.

"Lola! Revi'ar!"

I know my own name, and I know I am supposed to move. But I can't.

Katniss pushes on my shoulders, Effie claps and squeaks "go!" and Chase kisses my cheek. I make myself move. I tell myself I only have to look at the huge audience when I'm sitting, so I won't fall. Pinning my eyes on Cesar and the two padded white chairs, I walk forward.

Remember, one foot in front of the other. Heel down first, but not too hard. If you feel like you are going to fall, don't show it. Be a lady. Effie's advise echo's in the back of my mind. I cling to it.

"Well you look amazing! Oh my... Wow!!"Cesar beacons to my outfit. "This is hands down the best outfit we've seen all night!"

I smile and give a spin, showing off my floor length black dress, my braided updo, my silver jewelry and black lipgloss.

Me and Cesar hug and he gives me my mic. We sit as the crowd is silenced by the signs.

"Lola Revi'ar. Only twelve years old. The youngest tribute this year. Tell me, Lola, how did it feel when you were Reaped? What went through your mind?"

I process all of this as he talks, so I understand what he's saying and not only focus on my nerves.

"Well, I was in Twelve. I was standing beside my best friend, Isabelle Woodlight, and we were both holding out breath. And then Effie called my name. I clossed my eyes and thought that this couldn't be happening. I knew Izzy was debating weather or not to Volunteer. I told her no."

"Why?" Cesar asks.

"Because it's either me or her. So what, she volunteers, then she dies. Either I die or she does. Her Volunteering would benefit neither of us," I say, picturing Izzy's straight black hair, he tall figure, her midnight-sky eyes.

"Very intelligent for someone so young. Would you say that will benefit you?"

"My intelligence is my best weapon."

"Any other weapons? Survival takticks?"

"I discovered I'm good with throwing knives, and a crossbow."