This story will take place before the events of the 74th Hunger Games, so all the tributes have been chosen, but they have not been put in the arena yet.

Unless I mention otherwise, this will be entirely in Cato's POV.

Will not be a very long story, but the chapters will be long.

WARNING- Not going to have a happy ending!

If you're still interested, continue on ;)

Chapter 1

The first thing I noticed when I stepped foot in the room was a foul, and almost sour rose perfume.

It reminded me a lot of the Capitol atmosphere. The musk of a thousand different perfumes mingling amongst each other in some sort of bizarre freak-fest- their polished clothing radiating fumes. Even the smell of burnt hair was in there somewhere. Or that could have been lilac.

Either way, it smelled disgusting. I was sick of it. Back at home, earth and sweat was all there ever was. We never had to put up with all that flowery, fake crap.

But I knew better than to curl my nose at the president. I had learned enough throughout my nine-hour labor days and mountain training that the Capitol was not to be messed with. It was mentioned in hushed whispers between the District 2 trainees- about the Capitol's torture machines and silent executions to anyone who fought against them. That was why I had always kept a leveled head. Not because I was afraid. I just didn't want to be targeted.

Or so I thought. The moment Atala pulled me out of training and claimed President Snow had hiked all the way down there to speak to me personally, I figured my parents found a way to piss him off. The Capitol's president didn't just come strolling down to the training center to speak to the tributes individually, much less congratulate them.

No. Something had to be wrong.

The trainer shut the door the second I was fully inside. I shook my head. Such cowards.

Even though, truthfully, I couldn't see what the big deal was when I looked at the man before me. I was taller than him, not by much, but enough to see a few balding spots on the top of his head. His white hair was combed back elegantly and his suit only added to his composure, where a single white rose rested on his right breastplate.

He hadn't noticed me come in, it seemed, because he never took his eyes off of his tea. A tray of extra goods and biscuits sat on the corner of a lone desk, and he picked up two sugar cubes from one of the containers. I watched him plop both of them in the cup, and neatly start mixing it all together.

Was he expecting me to say something? Surely the Great and Powerful Snow would have at least acknowledged me by now if that weren't the case. Annoyed, I opened my mouth to speak- just as he looked up.

He didn't do a very good job hiding his bulged eyes. I got that look from a lot of people; it was never blind to me. Except this time, however, the president seemed more impressed than intimidated.

"You looked smaller in the pictures they sent me," he finally spoke, low and composed. "Tea?"

I firmly shook my head.

The president nodded it off. "Very well. I hope I won't keep you from your training for too long, but I'm sure a boy of your strength and might can afford a few minutes," he sat behind the desk. "Please, take a seat. We have some business to discuss."

Well, at least he was somewhat polite. I pulled the closest chair in my direction, and debated whether or not to still believe my parents screwed up. Clearing my throat, I asked. "Am I in trouble?"

Snow's eyebrows loosened in an amused fashion. "No, no, not at all. Your record is completely flawless, and that is precisely why I have called you in. How many years have you trained to participate in the Hunger Games, Cato?"

I counted back the years in my head. "About thirteen, I suppose."

"Ah, so a good fraction of your life, you would say?"

"Yeah, I guess."

"Good," he nodded approvingly, still stirring his tea. "You see, not many children in any of the districts are as passionate and dedicated to support the Capitol and games as much as District 2- specifically you. I admire that in a boy. Or a man, should I say. What are you… fifteen, sixteen?"

"Seventeen next month," I asserted.

"A good, solid age."

He must have been rewarding me. He hadn't mentioned anything negative about my life or my parents, so I must have been in the clearing. I wasn't sure if this was a good thing or bad. If he wasn't delivering trouble, he sure as hell was delivering something else.

Snow handed me a biscuit from his tray while he bit into his own. I didn't want it, but I figured it would be best not to get into a useless argument. "I just have a couple more questions," Snow assured, his eyes darkening. "Forgive me for not doing the research myself, but I was hoping you could save the time and enlighten me. Your family… how many are there?"

Why the hell did this matter? "Four others," I answered. "My parents, and a younger brother and sister."

Snow gave me a sick smile. "And your friends?"

I couldn't help but grimace. There had to be some reason he suddenly cared about everyone in my life, and I doubted it was for a good cause. As casually as I could, I bit partly in the biscuit, and gave him a very firm look.

"I have few."

"I see," the president sat back in his desk, straightening his flower vase. "You must have little time for allies when training is more important, especially in your homeland." He plucked a flower from the vase and examined it nonchalantly. "You volunteered at your reaping, did you not?"

"I did volunteer."

"Your own choice?"

It wouldn't hurt to tell the truth for this one. "My father always pushed me to get stronger and faster and more skilled," I explained. "A lot of honor comes with winning in our district. He thought I could be strong enough to win if I ever was reaped. But the choice of actually volunteering was my choice."

"What did your mother think of your decision?" Snow asked, glancing at me when I paused.

"She didn't approve at first," I said. "But she knew deep down I could win and come back."

The president smiled again, and it looked like it hurt by the way his lips were stretched. "Your confidence is refreshing, Cato. Surely a boy as strong and muscular as you had many suitors back at home. Did you leave behind a girl?"

I almost swallowed another part of my biscuit whole at the ridiculousness of that question. Where the hell did that come from? Had he been spying on me the last few years, or what?

My mind briefly wandered to those few girls who seemed to hang around and watch me train… "No," I said quickly. "Not at all."

"Not at all," Snow repeated, nodding slightly. "What about your fellow tribute… the dark haired girl? What are your impressions on her?"

"Clove?" I frowned in disgust. Was he seriously trying to wriggle some sort of sick love story out of me? "I've known her for a couple years, and her father has worked with mine, but that's all it was. I've seen her knife throwing abilities, and they're impressive. We're making an alliance with some others… but no. Nothing like that."

"I understand," Snow seemed satisfied enough. "They told me you and Clove had nothing romantic going on, but I needed to actually hear it coming from you to make sure. You see, it would be rather difficult to carry out my plans if that were the case."

Plans? What plans?

"Speaking of young romance," Snow put the flower back in its vase, and leaned forward to look me directly in the eye. "What are your thoughts on the District 12 tributes? The star-crossed lovers, as the Capitol is saying."

The very mention of them made me want to crumple the remaining part of my biscuit in my fist. Who did those idiots think they were fooling? Only the Capitol people fell for their stupid act, and it sure as hell wasn't fooling me. "They're just trying to get sponsors," I told him in an irritated tone. "But no one believes them."

"On the contrary, many people are quite entranced by their performance," the president looked at me seriously. "Its truly amazing how many people they have recruited to their service. And who knows, their little scheme might just succeed in unbalancing the will of the Hunger Games altogether."

What the hell was he talking about? "I don't understand."

A bleak grin erupted from the president's lips. "You're a smart boy, Cato. Think about the possibilities of the Capitol's reactions to their deaths. Say one of them does manage to fight there way into the last two tributes. The crowd won't want the other to die. They'll be raging at the failure of their reunion."

I felt my teeth tighten at his words. The Capitol was quite an easy crowd to impress. They loved the sweet ruthlessness in the gore and death in the games, the haggard struggle for survival that they never would experience. They possessed such passion for watching it unfold. That was why I knew it from the beginning I could give them a good show.

But they were always searching for something new. Even if it was something as pathetic as romance, I suppose it did make sense they would go along with it.

I cleared my throat again and spoke up. "Even if they do react, they'll probably forget about it by the next time the games come around."

Snow's face darkened, and I wondered if it were the right idea to add that thought in the first place. So far, he seemed comfortable with my input. It would really suck to wreck it now. "I only wish it were that easy to assure it," he answered simply, shaking his head. "But I simply cannot risk the damage. I have served Panem for quite some time, and I would hate to see it fall just because two teenage tributes are trying to gain attention. I have always had a sort of knack for sensing things before they occur," he lifted the cup to his mouth, acknowledging me with his finger. "Surely you understand my position now."

I didn't. I didn't understand at all.

"Are you talking about…" I pressed. "A futuristic rebellion…or something?"

Snow focused his attention on his tea- clearly more interested in the shape of the sugar cube instead of answering my question. I knew he had heard it, I was sure he did. But his message was clear: You don't need to know any more.

"Sir," I said suddenly, refusing to take any more silence. "With all due respect- why am I here?"

He perked up at this, and I was glad he did. I needed to get back to training and plan out my battle plans with Clove and Marvel as soon as possible, and we hadn't gotten anywhere yet. Unless all he needed was my family and friend information.

"I'm glad you asked," Snow refilled his cup to the rim, delicately pouring it at a gentle pace. "You are going to be part of something crucial, and it will be entirely between the two of us. You can keep a secret from your mentors, I'm sure?"

I nodded stiffly. It sounded like he wanted to give me some sort of murdering mission. Everything made sense as to why he'd pick me for the job. I was clearly stronger than all of the other tributes, and I had the best chance at winning. He must have known that as much as I did.

"It intertwines with the District 12 tributes," Snow began.

I automatically started to grin. Yes. I was going to get to kill those two love idiots, and get rewarded for it!

"Either in the training sessions or the games; I personally would suggest both," the president leaned back in his seat comfortably. "I want you to court District 12's Katniss Everdeen."

The world stopped.

What?

"Court her?"

"Yes," Snow affirmed casually. "You know- charm, attract, flatter… anything that entices her to you. I will leave that creativity entirely in your position."

But…

WHAT?

"Me?" I nearly shrieked, all my sanity going directly out the window. "You think I…that I actually… why?"

"Think back to the Capitol's reactions, Cato," Snow said in an unbelievably calm tone. "What District 12 has set up. I won't risk any more than I already have. If this love charade is put to an end, then the Capitol will have no reason to go against us. And it can be put to an end. If you distract her from her precious boy, in love with him truly or not, it will make the people question if she's really as star crossed as she claims. The District 12 problem disintegrates… and all returns to normal."

My mind was spinning with disbelief. How could this happen? How could he completely lead me on to think I was on some badass mission and then drop to something as stupid as this? Why me? I volunteered for the Hunger Games to fight, not to freaking romance girls!

"Why can't I just kill them off?" I demanded, struggling to refrain myself from socking the president.

"If they both die, then we will be more targeted than before," Snow explained. "How the cruel president of Panem had no mercy letting two innocent lovers die in the Hunger Games… see, that will not do. I need them to be alive when they break apart. They cannot very well do that if they are slaughtered in cold blood."

"And if they die on the first couple days, anyway?"

"If that were the case, it would be out of my reach," Snow admitted. "But they both received remarkably well scores on their private sessions, and I have predicaments that they will survive past the first day."

"Sir," I said desperately, standing up and plastering both hands on the edge of his desk. "You're asking too much of me. I did not volunteer to be apart of some sick drama the people have made up in their own, damn minds, and I honestly want no part of it. You have to get another tribute- another guy- I don't care- anyone. There is no way I can concentrate on winning and try to win the affections of some girl- my opponent, even. I mean- who do you think I am?"

"Cato, I'm not asking you to fall in love," Snow looked at me seriously. "Nor do I care if she does with you. I merely want you to distract her; there is a difference. You can kill her where she stands once its accomplished, I really do not care past that point. But you are the right tribute for the job. A tall, handsome male who is an excellent fighter- it will be hard for her to keep up her act." He took hold of his cup again. "I know how many ladies you've attracted in your district, Cato. This shouldn't be a problem for you."

"Sir, this could cost me my honor," I pleaded again. "My parents- no- everyone would look down at me for doing this… me and a girl from the poorest district in the whole damned country? Even if I did carry this out, she'd probably turn on me and stab me straight-"

"Then it looks like you've got to gain her trust before the games start," The president smiled and dabbed the corner of his mouth with an elegant napkin. "Come now, Cato. This could work in your favor if you thought about it."

No. Under no freaking circumstance could this ever work out.

I remembered a time when my mother's friends would marvel about how much I had grown and how attractive I had become. They looked up to me in disbelieving awe, and the proud twinkle ignited in my father's eye… This had to be the first time my physical looks weren't working in my favor.

Damn it- this was unbelievable! I was better than this crap- how dare he ring me to this level! If my father found out what he was asking of me…

"You can't do this," I bit out, shaking my head.

Something in the president's expression changed the mood completely. I should have remembered the keep my cool- but how could I when he had practically ripped all my glory right from my fingertips?

Snow set his cup down, and the sound echoed throughout the room, encasing me with dread. He stood up, and adjusted the front of his robes. "I have tried reasoning with you, Cato," he sighed. "But I see that the option is quite useless against you. I suppose I will have-"

"Are you saying I have no choice?" I couldn't help but shriek.

He gave me a slightly disapproving look for interrupting. "Now, of course not. You will always have a choice, my boy. Its just the consequences of your decision will be raised higher than I was hoping."

That was the very moment I allowed myself to hang my head in defeat. He never technically said it, but his intentions were as clear as ever. It was either I do the job or my entire family be executed.

"Sir, I just want to win," I tried for the last time. "I want to receive all the glory my district can offer, and I want to fight my way to becoming victor. That is all I asked when I volunteered. Just like any other tribute would."

"And here I thought I found a boy who never doubted himself," Snow responded, and it made me take a step back.

"I never have doubted myself," I said defiantly. "Never."

"Really," the president mused. "You just did. You're claiming you can't win the games and distract Katniss Everdeen in the same amount of time. Ever sense you have walked through that door, you have done nothing but claim you can't do anything."

My face curled in anger at his words, despite the deafening fact he was right. I had been so repulsed at the idea that I hadn't really took the time to think how easy it would be. How hard would it be to attract a poor girl from an unimportant district? Surely the idea of me even looking at her would get her to slip up.

But Marvel and Clove were still in my way.

"If I do this," I gripped out, looking the president hard in the eye. "You won't lay a finger on my family, right? They will come to no harm."

"I swear on it," the president smiled, his eyes flaring with success. "They will have the finest protection and goods from the Capitol, I will make sure of it. Do we have an agreement?"

I still didn't like it, and wished it were someone else, but I managed to give him one short nod.

"Good," Snow said delightfully, dabbing another napkin at his lips. "Then I will let you get back to your training. I truly am grateful for your cooperation, and I know you will not fail me. If you do succeed in winning the Hunger Games, then I bid you farewell until we meet again. Do not disappoint me."

I turned around and headed straight for the door.

"And Cato," the president added.

I stopped where I was, but didn't fully turn.

"I will be watching."

My legs felt like lead, and I knew I'd always have that burden on my shoulders. This was going to have a very interesting turnout. I raised my head higher before opening the door and closing it behind me.

The second I was back outside, I realized I still hadn't finished eating the biscuit. Most of it was crumbs now, except one piece that managed to hold together through my throbbing hands. Anger engulfing me whole, I found myself chucking the last of it all the way down to the end of the hallway.

Marvel was the first to notice I had left. He was crouched in the center of the snare station, his fingers working on a skinny noose. From where I stood, it looked more like a line of tangles than anything.

"Why are you in here?" I asked, squatting next to him. "We're not going to have to hunt."

Marvel looked up, wiping the frustrated frown from his features. "I know- I just wanted to learn how to set some traps. I can make way better ones with stronger material, but this…" he struggled to shove the tiny strings through the loop holes. "…is crap."

The trainer wandering around the station and checking the tribute's progress stopped in front of us, and tossed me a set of string. "Make yourself useful, or go to another station," she told me haughtily.

My eyebrows tightened together. She was going to address me a lot differently once I walked out of the Hunger Games as a champion.

There were two other tributes hunched in the corners while they worked. Sighing, I gathered all the strings and started to knot. "Where'd the others go?"

"Glimmer went off with the District 4 tributes, and Clove went to the knife station," Marvel said. "By the way, Glimmer wants your approval on letting District 11 in on the group."

I frowned. "Who's he?"

"That huge black guy who got a ten on his score," Marvel informed, passing me the instruction manual for the nooses. "I don't know, I think it's a pretty wise decision. He looks too dangerous to be on his own."

"If he looks too dangerous, then he shouldn't be in the group at all," I muttered bitterly. Marvel was so damn idiotic at times. We already had enough people in the group; we couldn't trust every damn tribute that looked good enough to join us.

"So no, then?"

I sighed, irritated. "You know what, you guys do whatever. Just stop recruiting people after he's done and over with."

"You got it."

My fingers fumbled with the strings. I didn't really care if I was doing it right, I wasn't going to need this in the games anyway. My fingers were still numb from the fists I had made back in the room with Snow, and there were still tiny crumbs of biscuit in between my fingers. I quickly brushed them off, disgusted at the memory they brought.

There was no way I could ignore it. The task would always be in the back of my mind, sneaking into my thoughts, threatening to execute my family if I didn't act on it soon. Perhaps I would be able to ignore it until the games started, that way I could focus on my game plan like a normal tribute. That was, until, my alliance would ask me what the hell I was doing when I said I was heading out to search for the District 12 girl.

I glanced sideways at the tall, lanky fool next to me. He was such an idiot that it frustrated me, but even he wouldn't compare to how I would look when I randomly headed off into the arena alone. I needed to tell someone, as pathetic as it was. Someone who would hopefully somewhat understand what sort of crisis I was going through. It would never be Marvel, but I figured it would be best to get as much info out of him as possible.

"So," I spoke up. "What are your thoughts on the love tributes?"

Marvel continued with his noose. "What- you mean District 12?"

"Yeah."

"The guy looks like a total loser," Marvel scoffed, shaking his head in the process. "What kind of idiot tells a girl he loves her right before he's going to hunt and kill her? I mean, it's kind of pointless, don't you think?"

"Sure," I murmured.

"Yeah…" he continued. "I don't know, but the girl tribute looked pretty hot in that dress on interview night. With the flames and all that stuff. I'd give her a hard 9, on a scale of one to Glimmer."

I nearly gagged. "I hope you're joking, man."

"Hey, c'mon," Marvel grinned. "We're going to fight to the death in less than 24 hours, why not put a little fun in it while we can. Don't think I haven't seen you and Clove get all-"

"You're nasty as hell," I muttered. "If you say another damn word I swear I will be the one that busts your guts open with my bare hands."

Marvel finished the remaining part of his snare with a cheeky smile. "As long as its not today, you can do whatever the hell you want to me tomorrow."

Be assured, I will, I thought.

"So why'd you ask about them in the first place?"

The question caught me off guard. "What?"

"There had to be some reason the great Cato brought up the District 12 tributes," Marvel said casually, studying the other two tributes who were also having difficulty with their snares. "You planning on knocking them both out on the first day or something?"

Damn, I wish.

"No. Well, maybe. Just curious." As if. I wanted nothing to do with them whatsoever, and if Snow hadn't hiked here in the first place, they would remain at the bottom of my troubles like they were supposed to. Snow seriously should've picked Marvel. He was far from being attractive, but at least he had some interest in the girl.

I hadn't noticed him staring at me until he spoke up. "Hold on… I think I know what you're doing," his eyes narrowed in an amused fashion, and I shot him a bewildered glare. "I know exactly what you're doing…Cato! You'd actually lower yourself to consider that girl? She's not even a career, and- wow, damn. This is huge-"

"Shut the hell up, or I'll smash you until your skull cracks," I snapped threateningly. "There is no way that is what's going on- you have it all wrong. Hell- you have every damn thing wrong! I don't even know why Clove convinced me to let you in the alliance…"

"Hey, take it down a notch," Marvel held up his palms. "I was just… oh, now I really know what's going on. You're trying to get yourself out there, huh? Get the Capitol people all riled up while you try to make her fall for you instead of that blonde loser? Nice…"

I couldn't wipe the stunned look from my face. Snow wasn't the only one who thought such ridiculous ideas?

I stared at him in disbelief. "You really think I should do that?"

"Sure, why not?" Marvel shrugged. "You're going to have a lot of explaining to do with Clove, but all the fans are going to like it. It brings something new to the table. Just as long as you don't fall in love with her, I think you could pull it off."

"I don't fall in love," I assured him. "That's the last thing that's on my mind, and always will be. After I win, I'll have enough Capitol girls to keep me company for the next million years."

Marvel's face slightly fell when I mentioned I would win instead, but I knew he knew it was true. "Well," his face brightened. "You should go woo her now, then, before the games start. Because at that point, there's really nothing left but blood and death. And you'll be her target."

"I'm shaking with fear," I muttered sarcastically, standing up and almost towering above him. "Where does she usually train at?"

Marvel's eyebrow flickered. "Last I heard, she was really handy with arrows. Probably in archery, I'd reckon."

I turned around and started heading in search for the station. "I'll be back in a couple minutes."

Next chapter- Cato and Katniss encounter!

And just for the record, I'd like to point out I am completely for Peeta/ Katniss, so I am a fan of canon as well. But because I have a strange fascination for Cato… and this plot bunny kept eating the back of my head…

Yeah, anyways. I'd love to hear your guys' thoughts on the first chapter and the second will be coming soon!

Review ^^