So don't hate me, but I decided a number of things. The first of which being that All-Stars is now coming before chained. If I'm being completely honest though...chained was always more of a side project.

Without further ado, I give you the start of All-Stars 2.0. (I'M STILL FINISHING JOURNEY TO THE TOP)

This will pick up right after All-Stars 1, there will be a lot of backstory. I'll do my best to try and piece things together, but it's probably going to be easier if you just read the first one. ALSO: I recently read a story from an old user on here named androidilenya, though I've taken ONE, idea as inspiration from her story, the rest of mine is completely original, and will be original. (You should totes read hers to. It's so good. She's not on the site anymore though..)

Blackbird singing in the dead of night

Take these broken wings and learn to fly

All your life

You were only waiting for this moment to arise.

Rachel Callowgwey, 21

President of Panem

The stars are shining bright tonight. It's one of the rare nights in the Capitol where you can reach out and almost touch them. I loved nights like these, because Marissa and I would always lay out on the balcony and try to find the stupid constellations, and we never could.

Marissa's death is something that I will carry with me forever. Someone dying so bravely. So fearlessly taking on death. Someone that survived so much, someone that survived the 224th Hunger Games, survived a year with me at her throat, a time traveling psycho sending us forward 70 years to the future. It's safe to say that we didn't have a typical friendship. Honestly, though. we weren't typical girls.

Still though, when the moment came, she jumped in front of a bullet for me. My only regret I've ever had with me is that I didn't push her aside instead. And for the first time in three years, I'm completely and utterly alone, 70 years ahead of my time.

It's been two weeks since I became President of Panem. A new nation with new rules. We are bound by a democracy, and a government that won't have absolute power, and the fact that there will be no more Hunger Games. So far, everything has been good.

A knock on my bedroom door startles me back into the reality. I turn to see Chanel Lourd walking into the room. She is sporting her silk pink pajamas and fuzzy bunny slippers. She looks confused when she sees that I'm not in my bed, but nods in understanding upon seeing my balcony door open. She walks out onto the balcony and sits on the tanning chair next to me.

"Hello, Quasi." I don't think Chanel really ever bothered to learn the names of the people she surrounded herself with. She grew up in extremely high society in District 6, and when she won the 298th Hunger Games everyone was surprised, but her that is. She is also my Vice President.

"Chanel, always a pleasure." I say as I give her a nod and then look back up at the stars.

She looks up at the sky with me and chuckles to herself. Looking over at me, she grabs my hand and gives me a gentle squeeze.

"Quasi, who would have thought that we'd be here. Running a country, staring at the stars, tolerating each other."

Who would have thought indeed. I'd like to take a minute to point out that not only is Quasi not my name, but it's short for Quasimoto. She says that I have a big forehead. Chanel might not be one for political correctness, but at the same time, she has a massive social media following that shows us so much about the country.

"I don't know, Chanel." This is honestly such a weird feeling that I'm not sure I'll ever get used to.

A green light appears in my room and both me and Chanel are staring at a blonde woman of about 40 years of age. She is very beautiful with blue eyes and long blonde hair, and a body of a freaking super model.

"RACHEL! CHANEL!" said the woman as she runs to the balcony and stands over us.

Now, stand in front of a trained killer, and normally you end up, well, dead. However I see something on the girl that strikes a memory. There is a scar on her elbow in the shape of a really obscure square.

"Star?!" I say staring at her. She was the winner of the 300th games. The last games that there was ever supposed to be. She's currently in a different part of the world, the Australian version of Panem, and promoting democracy. She's also only 18 there. We've sent her out as our Secret agency to work on those countries from the inside out. She mask herself as our ambasador.

"What is going on-" asked Chanel as she stares at the woman that is placed before her.

"Girls, I don't have a lot of time to explain. I'll explain on the way, follow me."

"Wait!" I say. There is so much wrong with this picture. For starters, I don't know if 40 year old Star is someone I want to trust, and I'm President of a nation now. I can't just walk around town in my pajamas. I didn't even do that when I wasn't President.

"You'll explain now." I tell her.

"Good to know you don't change, Rachel." she says as she throws her hands up in the air in a frustrated tone. "Listen closely, because I'm only saying this once. Panem is in chaos. I'm Star from 20 years in the future, I took the time machine watch from Mihael after Calliope killed him 20 years ago-"

"Calliope killed him 2 weeks ago." says Chanel.

"Time travel, airhead. Keep up." says Star, "The country is a mess. People are rioting, banks are being robbed, they're trying to take you down, Rachel."

"What do I do that's so bad?" I ask shocked as I stare at Star in shock.

"You didn't display a strong sense of power. Competitors have tried to rise against you, and while you consistently receive the popular vote in the election primaries, there are other leaders rising up. They'll stop at nothing to get the power. Now will you come with me?"

She grabs hold of Chanel's and my hands. The green light that we saw in the room while stargazing moments before surrounds us, and we are suddenly moving through a green blob. I've only ever time traveled once, when Calliope sent Marissa, Addison, and I to the current time period. I didn't like it then, and I don't like the feeling now. Something about the way your stomach feels as you travel through the years, just makes me want to vomit. I suppose it's something you have to grow acquainted to.

We appear at a graveyard that is lined with cobblestone graves. Walking along, I see all sorts of names on the graves. "Thomas Dekker, a loving husband and father", "Elena Marinov, our love is eternal", "Marissa Vixon, The best damn person in the whole world".

I pause, and drop to my knees. It's her grave. The one she picked when she went into the games for the 224th year. I can't help but chuckle to myself as I remember her talking about it before the invasion.

"If I die in this damn thing, I better get my tombstone." she said. So, of course, we had to give it to her.

"Rachel. Come on, you're coming." says Star as she lifts me up and drags me behind a large tombstone that read, "Peter and Elle Coin, forever in the heart of our district." We crouch behind one of the three angels that are lining the top of the grave and watch as an older me approaches the grave of Marissa.

"Oh my gosh. Quasi, those wrinkles!" says Chanel as she looks at me with her eagle eye, "AND ARE THOSE GREY HAIRS!?" she whispers harshly.

"Shut up, Chanel!" says Star as she gives her a rude look from the side. She's perfected the "mom eye" in the last 20 years. She has to have children.

"Did I, like, do something to hurt you?" asked Chanel upset.

"We'll talk about it later." says Star.

We watch as older Rachel, or older me, approaches the grave. She gets down on her knees and begins to sob. She brushes her once brunnette hair, now streaked with grey, out of her face, and throws her head up.

"It wasn't supposed to be this way." Older me says as she pulls out a tissue and wipes her eyes, and the mascara that is streaming down her cheeks. "Sometimes I wish that I could bring you back, and you could help me. You were always so much stronger than me. Always so much braver."

Older me runs her hands along the words on Marissa's grave. Her hands are trembling, and I want to go over and give myself a hug, but something tells me Star wouldn't allow that.

"Obsidian is gaining power. The districts are slowly leaning towards him. He'll ruin everything. He's going to be the end of this country if I don't find a way to get rid of his armies that he's building, he'll overtake me. I just have to find a way to-"

We are interrupted by the sound of gunfire, and a bullet flying through older Rachel's head. She falls to the ground with blood drenching out of her skull as I sit there with my hands clasped over my mouth. What the hell just happened?!

"Girls, this is where we leave." says Star as she grabs our hands, and the green light is once again surrounding us.

When we arrive back at the room I fall to the floor. I can't breathe. I just watched myself die. I went to twenty years in the future and just watched myself die.

"What the hell was that older slightly uglier Star Fire?" ask Chanel

"That's the future that both of you will face if you don't do something to change it. To show that you're in charge, and that no one is going to take it away from you."

"What do you suggest Star?" I ask finally able to slow my breathing down.

"Ladies, we need to reintroduce the Hunger Games."

G-L-A-M-O-R-O-U-S

First class, up in the sky.

Drinking Champagne, living the life.

Chanel Lourd, 20

Vice President of Panem

Quasi and I sat down and begin to write down rules and regulations for what these games would consist of. We were really skeptical at first, not only because we know what the games do, and how horrible they are. We were skeptical because how do we get voted in, and then do exactly what we said we wouldn't? Daddy would call that politics, I suppose.

Future Star Fire, which pisses me off because she's still absolutely gorgeous, sometimes pops in from the future to see how we're doing. She won't tell us what's changed, but we know something has. Sometimes we can make a rule, and she'll come in peasant clothing, and other times we can cross one off and she returns to normal. How do we change the future, without changing it drastically?

"So the games are going to consist of previously reaped tributes. Meaning they've already competed in games like Star did when she won. I just don't like that some kids will be brought back just to die again."

"Let's make it where they are all trained then." I say. "If we can get ahold of Brendan, he can make another time machine, and through that can't we just make them babies again? Raise them for ourselves and train them. Even shots for everybody."

I'm not the dumb girl that everyone thinks I am. I'm pretty, but to be honest, that doesn't equate stupidity. Plus, it'll be nice to hear from crusty old grandpa. With him being in the picture again, it'll almost be like we have the gang back together, it's almost easy to forget Marissa is gone.

"What if Brendan can't create the time machine. He's not the crazy teenage prodigy engineer from district 1 anymore. He's old. Like really old." says Rachel

"Well, we will have to wait and see, but the fact still remains that it should happen if it's possible."

"I agree, I like the idea of them all being the same age, and having the same skill set."

"Make it happen, Quasi." I say as I get up and don't bother pushing my chair in. My strut out of the room is interrupted by Rachel clearing her throat. I pout and roll my eyes as I turn around. "What?!" I say upset.

"You'll be the one making the announcement." says Rachel.

"Fine." I say as I pull out my phone.

"You're not posting it on social media." says Rachel annoyed. "This is a presidential matter. You'll handle it responsibly."

"You're no fun!" I say as I turn around and walk out of the room. I open up the Panembook on my phone and click the status update option.

"Omg guys," I begin to type out onto the phone. "You have no idea what's coming!"

-6 months later-

Time machines are built thanks to the help of crusty old man. Now, we just need to bring in the tributes. By the looks of it, we have a big crowd. We don't know how they're going to respond to this, but we hope it's a positive manner.

"Citizens of Panem," I say typing the microphone that stands in front of me. "It is I, your Vice President Chanel Lourd. Here to make a very important announcement."

The audience gets quiet as I can hear my voice echo even more loudly throughout the square in the Capitol building. Everything is so tense, you could probably hear a pen drop.

"Due to some unforeseen circumstances, we have had to make some adjustments in our law system. We will be reinstating the Hunger Games."

The crowd turns from quiet, to uproar in a matter of seconds. People are trying to riot in front of the stage as peacekeepers hold them off. The Capitol has never been more displeased about news that they have just heard in the entire time that I've been here.

"Wait. Let me explain!" eventually after about 10 minutes of trying to get them to settle down, they do.

"We will be drawing from a pool of already dead tributes. To make it fair, we will bring them back in time to when they were infants. They will train together, grow together, and they will eventually be in the games together. We are doing this to show that though we are still a nation that is merciful, we mean business. To, further make things fair, two Capitol infants will be reaped and placed into the training with the other tributes. This isn't up for discussion. That is all."

I walk off the stage to the entire Capitol up in arms, but there isn't anything I can do about it at this point. It's already decided upon. We will not end up pawns to someone named Obsidian. I thought we just got rid of an evil two faced predatory wench, and now we have to go back and do it again? Why can't it ever just be easy.

"You did good, Chanel." says Rachel as she stands behind stage. Something about her has changed. She's harder since the incident and seeing her own death. She's stern, and cold.

"Thanks, Quasi." I say, "Let's go plan an arena."

Form is on my page. I'm really excited for this story. It'll be my last ever. (Or at least for awhile.) I'll be accepting forms for this story until May 15th, then I'll make my final choice. YOU CAN CREATE A DEAD TRIBUTE, OR YOU CAN SEND IN A PREVIOUSLY DEAD TRIBUTE. I'll accept either, and I won't be biased. Just write the created dead tribute as if you were writing their story.

Let me know what you think, and always…

Keep it classy,

Caleb