Part I: The Tribute

I love and hate District 4. I love the sea, and the colours and the fish. I hate the people. Well, some of them. The majority. I love my family and my friends. The rest of District 4 can take a nose dive into the sea for all I care.

I sit by myself on the wall that leads to the marina, and it's been dark for hours. I shiver slightly in the chilly air, but it doesn't matter, there's no one around. I've been waiting here for about fifteen minutes now, and I'm starting to doubt that Nick is even coming. He told me he would, but Nick's word is never much to go by. I begin to regret wearing my strapless dress, as I can feel goose-bumps on my skin.

A guy starts walking down the path, and at first he doesn't notice me, and I hope he'll continue his stroll without seeing me. He doesn't. I recognise him vaguely, as he starts to come towards me, his bronze hair swaying a little in the breeze.

'You okay?' He asks me, still advancing. I don't want him to come closer. I don't like people I don't know. But he doesn't appear menacing, even with all the muscle he's pulling around with him. He looks gentle, which is completely the opposite of how he should look.

'I'm fine.' I answer tentatively, trying to look as though I mean it.

'You waiting for someone?'

'No, I'm just sitting in the marina alone at night because I'm a sad act.'

He raises one eyebrow and smirks at me. 'That's alright then. Because I was going to ask if you're sure he's coming…'

'I'm not going to get stood up, if that's what you mean.' I snap back. I dislike him already. What has this got to do with him?

'Excellent,' He says flatly, realising my discontent. His impressively green eyes look me up and down, and I feel a bit exposed in my little dress. I want to pull it up a bit, in case it's gone too low, but I know that'll only draw his attention there if it wasn't already.

'Because,' he continues, casually perching himself next to me on the stone wall. 'if you, by some horrible twist of fate, had got stood up, then I was going to offer to walk you home.'

'Why?' I ask suspiciously. I don't trust people I don't know, they always have ulterior motives.

He shrugs. 'Make sure you get home safe. It's dark.'

'Well noticed, genius.' I scoff, folding my arms across my chest; partly because I'm angry, and partly because I don't want him looking there. He smirks, and I know he knows what I'm thinking.

'Wasn't looking,' He grins. 'promise.'

'You lie.' I say, turning back to him. For a brief moment, I get caught up in his green eyes. They're so ocean-like, it seems unreal. He could have the entire Panem Ocean behind his eyes for all I know, they're just… beautiful.

He breaks my staring with a soft, musical laugh. 'Guess that makes us even.'

'What does?' I snap.

'You staring into my eyes – makes us even for me staring… elsewhere.' He says with a cheeky smile. I'm a little taken aback by how nonchalantly he says these things, but I still disagree.

'That does not make us even,' I say through gritted teeth. He's still grinning like an idiot. 'I'm going home.'

'I'll walk with you.' He mirrors me as I get up. I'm starting to really lose my patience with this guy.

'I only live in the marina.' I raise my eyebrows at him, hoping he'll just go away. He doesn't though, and he just smiles.

'Okay.' And he starts walking towards the marina, turning to wait for me at the gate. I roll my eyes and finally decide to catch up to him, still fuming that Nick didn't come, and instead, left me with this random stranger who's trying – and failing – to be a good Samaritan.

We get to my boat and I just stop, and turn back to him, wondering what he plans to say now we've reached our destination. A lot of people live on boats here, like long barges all moored in the marina, and occasionally drift out to do some fishing, because that's how we make our business. Well, I say that, but I collect shells on the beach and sell them for small change, and make jewellery. It brings in a little bit of extra money, but it's mainly a hobby. There is the odd occasion when I find nets or tridents or fishing gear washed up on the beach across town, and if they're in good condition, we can sell them or keep them to use ourselves.

'Nice boat,' he comments, his soft eyes drifting around my home.

'Thanks.'

There's an awkward silence where I simply watch him, wondering if he ever planned what to say at this point.

'Well,' He clasps his hands together nervously. 'hope the guy that stood you up gets what's coming to him – for standing up someone as pretty as you.' Very well put together for a last minute decision. I give him a pleasant smile for that, but not flirty. I'm still not sold on him, and I don't even know his name.

'I'll just… yeah, I'll just go.' He gives me a relaxed salute and heads back off down the marina path. I watch him go and sigh, shaking my head. There are some strange people around.

I climb onto my boat, kicking off my shoes once I'm inside – dad doesn't like getting saltwater on the decking inside. It happens naturally anyway, but he's adamant it's from our shoes.

My bedroom is the furthest from the entrance, and I can hear my brother's television fizzling away in his room as I pass it. My older brother's called Regan – he's two years older than I am. I try to slip past unnoticed, because he'll know I'm early and want to know why. Hopefully he's too caught up trying to mend that old television.

I quickly change into my pyjamas and settle down on my bed with a book, but I've barely opened it when the door squeaks open. Regan never was very good at creeping around.

'You're back early, Annie,' He comments, inviting himself in and shutting the door behind himself.

'Oh, hi, Regan,' I say stiffly. 'come inside. I'm fine, thanks for asking.'

'Good,' He shrugs, as if he'd actually asked. 'Nick didn't show then?'

'How did you even-' I start to ask him, but think better of it. Regan knows everything when it comes to this. He just has to ask one of his friends and they'll know. All the guys know each other round here, it's very annoying. 'Ugh. No, he didn't show.'

Regan sits down on my bed, brushing the covers so they don't crease. I give him a look and he stops instantly.

'I'll show him what's what tomorrow,' He said calmly.

'Don't,' I moan. 'I don't want any drama.'

Regan smirks. 'Fine, fine. Doesn't matter then. But if he does it again…' Regan trails off and I roll my eyes, trying to turn my attention back to my book. He won't let me though.

'How did you get home? You didn't walk back on your own, did you?'

'I was only by the marina wall, Regan!' I tell him heatedly, I'm so sick of people trying to look out for me! At least Samaritan boy had a tone of sarcasm with his unwanted help. 'And no. I didn't walk back on my own.'

'Oh? So who did you walk with?' He pries. Nothing is ever good enough for him, is it? He always wants to know more.

'I don't know,' I shrug casually. He glares at me like this is some sort of crime. 'just this guy. He asked if I was okay, then offered to walk me home. It was fine.' I can tell by his aghast expression that he does not consider this to be fine at all.

'Who was he? What did he look like?' Regan's getting all het up about it now. He wants to know who because he wants to beat them up. I hate it when he tries to get involved in my personal life! He doesn't own me. I wish he'd stop trying to own me. Stop telling me what to do!

'Bronze-ish hair, kind of shaggy. Got muscles…' I explain vaguely. Regan still has a blank expression on his face. 'Bit flirty, a little bit older than me… um… eyes so green you think you're drowning in the ocean?'

Regan's eyes narrow. 'Finnick Odair.' Ah, crap. Not him. I knew I recognised him, and now I know why. I mean, sure, I should have recognised him because he won the 65th Hunger Games, but he's also the guy my brother hates most in this world. Great, he just had to be the one who offered to walk me home, didn't he? Now Regan has an excuse to go and try to have a punch up with him. The last one didn't end well. It ended with Finnick pushing Regan off the side of the marina in front of pretty much every one of their friends. He wouldn't leave the boat for weeks, convinced that they'd all laugh at him. Finnick and Regan went to school together, they're the same age, and they share a lot of friends, and mutually hate each other. I'm not sure why the hating started originally, but I think Regan just got sick of Finnick flirting incessantly with any girl he was seeing, and them always liking Finnick more than him.

'Don't bring your petty little disagreements into this, Regan,' I warn him. Did Finnick know who I was, though? Did he offer just to wind my brother up?

'Why not? He was evidently flirting with you! If you'd have lived further away than the marina, he'd have probably pulled you into a bush and had his way right there and then!'

'Get out, Regan.' That's my first warning. He's really winding me up now. I need him to get out before I flip out at him. He knows this, and still goes nowhere.

'You can't trust him, Annie,' He continues undeterred. 'he only wants one thing from you, and when he gets it he'll have forgotten who you are afterwards!'

'Regan,' I say it sterner this time. 'Get. Out. Now.'

He still doesn't listen. 'And I'm not saying this because I don't like him. I'm saying this because I know him! I've heard all the stories, Annie! He's not a nice guy! He might trick you with his charm and charisma, but-'

'Regan!' That's it now. I launch myself from my coiled up viper position, and push him off my bed, landing with a thunk onto the hard floor. The boat sways sideways somewhat, but I keep my balance on my bed, and glare at him. 'Don't tell me what to do!' And I go for him again, kick his chest with my feet, drop down onto his chest and slap him across the face. He shouldn't have wound me up. My stress vent is violence. He knows that.

'I'm s-' I hit him in his jaw. 'Sowry,' He mutters as best he can, bringing his hand up to clutch his jaw. 'Owh…'

I force myself to stop now he's apologised. But I still want to keep hitting him. He does this every time I see a guy! But now, just because someone he dislikes offers to do something nice for me, and he has to go and ruin it all!

'Just go, Regan,' I say, trying to keep my voice calm. When he doesn't move, I revert back to what I want to do, and what I'm trying to stop myself doing. 'Get out!' I scream the loudest I possibly can. Regan quickly jumps off the floor, skidding all over the place, and scampers out of my room. I exhale slowly and drop back onto my bed.

I'm not stable, I know that. I'm also not crazy. I lash out at people when most others can contain their anger, but I just don't see the point. If someone deserves a good slap, then why not give it to them? I don't understand the reason of hiding your emotions, they're what make us human. I intend on continuing being human, not the multi-coloured robots they call Capitol citizens, thanks very much.

The next morning is swimming practice – and I'm late. Again. I just like seeing the sun creep through my curtains. I've got dark curtains, with fishing nets draped over the top of them, and when the sun peers around the curtains, it makes such pretty patterns in the net… I just have to watch them dance around my window.

I can already hear the girls prepping in the marina, and although I can't actually hear what they're saying, I know they're moaning that I'm late. I hurriedly get on my navy swimming costume, grab a towel and practically sprint off my boat. I hit the deck and meet the scowling faces of the Marina Bay Girls Swimming Team. I've been on the team for four years now, and most of the girls are some of my best friends, but they just hate it when I'm late. And I'm always late.

'Annie, I swear to the Capitol, if you're late one more time-' Charla begins with a growl, until Anthia nudges her sharply in the ribs.

'Let's just get going shall we?' She hisses, before turning a pleasant smile in my direction, in way of an apology for Charla's outburst.

Charla, the self-elected Captain of the team, gives us all in turn a sharp glare, before announcing: 'Dive.' And that's the go. We all dive into the water, I recount the steps I always remembers when I dive; grip the side of the wood with your toes, bend your knees, curve your back, streamline your arms, and jump. I do it every time at light-speed. But I always have to do it, and I make these kind of steps for such basic things, but I guess that's just another part of my little madness. It's part of me, I suppose.

Anthia kicks me under the water. I think she's done it by accident, until I see that she's stopped swimming.

She delicately nods her head back to the marina. 'Don't look too soon, don't make it obvious.' She whispers, trying to make it look like she's talking about something else. 'But Finnick Odair's over there! He's just sitting on the dock!' I causally glance around the marina, and sure enough, there's Finnick, just looking innocent, absentmindedly messing with some rope. He grins at me when he notices me looking at him. And suddenly, there's no doubt in my mind that he's here for me. Even though he's quite far away, with yards of ocean separating us, his gorgeous green eyes seem like they're right in front of me. I get the sensation that I'm drowning in them, but I'm not trying to stop, it's a drowning when I don't mind the water crashing around me because it's not crashing – it's hugging me, wrapping me around in its soft, warm current…

'Annie!' Charla snaps at me again. 'Stop ogling trident guy and swim!' I glare at her, but do as she says and swim over to meet her at the other side of the docks. Trident guy? Who does she think she is? He's Finnick Odair. He won the Hunger Games. He's not just some guy.

'Oh, please, Annie,' Charla continues bitterly. 'don't give me the death stare you're so good at. Bet you don't give him that look.'

'He doesn't annoy me like you.' I shoot back, resisting the urge to splash saltwater in her eyes. She simply ignores me then, because she's got nothing else to reply with. I exchange a smirk with Anthia.

'D'you know him?' Anthia whispers to me, meaning Finnick. I nod vaguely and her eyes widen. 'You're kidding?'

I shake my head. 'He walked me home last night when Nick… stood me up.' I'm hesitant to use that phrase, because it's what Finnick said. And I still don't want to believe I got stood up. I still resent him a little for just pointing it out.

'Wow,' She breaths. 'as if you know Finnick Odair… half the girls in the whole district would kill just to meet him!'

I roll my eyes and smirk back at her. Of course they would. But I'm not like that, I don't do the whole fan-girl thing. He's just another person, just like anyone else. Only he's talented, and cute and hot… And I'm losing my grasp on my morals.

'Break.' Charla orders in a bored tone. 'Because Annie can't stop drooling over Finnick Odair.' I shoot a cold stare at her. She's teeming with jealousy because he's looking at me, not her. Heaven knows why, though, my hair's filled with salt and bedraggled by the water, and it's sticking to my skin and sticking up at the back. And I'm much too skinny for this swimsuit for it to actually look good on me – it doesn't cling to my skin, it hangs off me. Surely that doesn't look too attractive.

We all get out of the water, and I'm careful about how I pull myself onto the deck, so that my suit doesn't rise up at the back. I don't want to give him an eyeful. Though I'm sure he wouldn't complain.

I see his eyes involuntarily light up as I walk towards him along the marina boards. He's sitting on the edge of the decking, dangling his feet into the water, tying and re-tying knots in a stray piece of rope.

'Didn't realise you were a swimmer.' He grins at me, as I stand above him. His eyes are running all over me and I suddenly feel very on show. I sit down so at least my face is at eye-level with him.

'Yeah,' I answer indifferently. 'didn't realise you spent your time perving on swimmers.'

'Only when they're hot.' He wiggles his eyebrows and I can't help but laugh. 'And I'm not perving anyway.' He continues, looking vaguely hurt.

'Oh? What would you call it, then?'

'Admiring.' He says proudly.

I smirk. Just can't help it. 'So, I can say I've got an admirer, then?' I grin at him.

He shrugs and returns my smile, but his sends shivers down my spine. 'You could say that.' He says, his voice turning from his sarcastic, playful tone, to a seductive and smooth purr. I try to smile, but I think he's broken my ability to function normally.

All off a sudden I'm submerged in water. I gasp and throw my head out of the water, spinning around to search for the culprit, saltwater lining my tongue. Charla's stood with a manic grin on her face, evidently pleased with her handy work. Finnick's watching me, trying to stop himself laughing. I raise my eyebrows and he can't hold it in, and just bursts out laughing – that musical, sweet laugh. Sweet like sugar cubes.

'Go on then, Annie,' Charla tells me. 'show Finnick what you can do, and who knows – maybe he'll show you his trident!' And with that, she dives into the water after me and swims ahead, evidently wagering a race. I cast an apologetic glance at Finnick for the trident euphemism, but he evidently found it funny. He's such a child.

I take off after Charla, letting the water sweep past me, and it feels so natural. Being in the water is my home from home. I live on the water, so the water to me is a friend I've grown up with. Charla's talented, of course, but I'll always beat her on aggression. She's wound me up now, and when I've got anger coursing through my veins, I'll win against anyone.

My hand hits the decking on the other side first, as I watch Charla finish one stroke behind me, anger radiating from her cheeks. I hear a single clap from the other side of the marina, and turn to see Finnick giving me a small round of applause, then he beams at me.

'Oh, go talk to him.' Charla mutters.

'What?'

'Go and talk! Clearly he's come for you, and let's face it – you don't need the practice.' Charla sighs. This is surely a trick… 'I don't want to be around when that swimsuit goes see-through because of the salt.' Her eyes dart to Finnick for a second, then return to me. 'We all know he can't hold out that long.'

I spit saltwater at her without warning, and leave her rinsing her face as I get out of the water. She's right about the swimsuit though. Mine does have a tendency to go a little bit transparent when it's been in saltwater for too long. I'm about to go back and talk to him, when I hear my brother's voice from our boat.

'Odair! Get up!'

Oh, God, please. Not again. Regan, what are you going to do, you idiot!