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    JUPITER couldn't remember screaming or crying or reacting at all. She couldn't remember the sound the glass made as it shattered on the kitchen floor or how she had managed to step over it without cutting her feet. She could barely remember the gasp that had left her mother's lips. But she remembered the way Mars had looked at her.

    District 2, she assumed, must have taken the news quite hard compared to some of the other Districts. With a culture made up of Victors and training, the next few local news reports were of the students who had been chosen for the Hunger Games being robbed of their chance, the unfairness of it. One of their parents' had even been interviewed in tears. Jupiter had only watched because her mother had, as Mars sat and watched her from the corner like a cat stalking prey.

    His threat wasn't brought up again, but she knew he was biding his time. He was angry and violent, but he was smart. It was half the reason she had always been afraid of him, perhaps, that he wasn't just a brute. He had taken the same classes she had, studied the same strategies and polished himself just the same as she had. At the source, maybe he was like a predator stalking prey, waiting for the right moment. Jupiter knew he wouldn't simply just forget such a perfect situation to hold over her.

    Jupiter tried to ignore the impending situation, and instead, she found herself searching the mailbox daily for any correspondence from the Academy, any news on what they planned to do with their extensive, existing pool of Victors. And, two days after the President's announcement, she found one.

    "What's that?" Mars asked snidely as she entered.

    "Mail," she responded simply, tearing open the seal with her fingers and taking the letter out. Mars gave her an annoyed look, but she ignored it, light eyes scanning the cursive words.

    "Well?" Mars asked indignantly.

    Jupiter scrunched up the piece of paper, causing her brother to flinch at what he likely took as disrespect to the Academy. "They're holding a meeting," was all she said. "Invite only."

    Mars scowled at the words, but made no move on her, and Cassia stayed quiet. If possible, she had been spending even more of her time in front of the TV since the announcement, as if she would miss something important. Jupiter had hardly heard a word from her mother the past few days.

    The trip to the Academy the next day was bleak, and filled with people giving her weary looks. No doubt her face and name would have been mentioned in the local news, theories on what the Academy would decide, theories on who would return to the arena they had fought so hard to get out of the first time.

    Jupiter brushed her sweaty palms on her pants as she got off at her station, walking briskly up the path she was so painfully familiar with. The receptionist looked less enthusiastic for once, looking up as Jupiter entered, her reflection bouncing off the polish floors.

    "They're meeting upstairs– the Council's office," she told Jupiter softly.

    She only nodded and began to make the trip there. The Council's office was a room she had not been in since her victory– where they had congratulated her, honoured her name in their hallways, and then offered her future roles with the Academy. She had also been called there when they had chosen her to be the one to volunteer for 68.

    The room only brought her bitter memories, but her curiosity won her over as she ascended the stairs. The windows were letting in cool sunlight as she walked the relatively empty hallways. Jupiter wondered if they had cancelled classes for the last few days– she wouldn't be surprised.

    The one-way glass of the office prevented Jupiter from seeing if anyone had already arrived, but she pushed open the door anyway and entered, noise suddenly filling her senses. It died down as she closed the door, turning to be met with a room full of people she had learnt to dislike on different levels over the years.

    "I guess the world really is ending," Enobaria mused from where she was sitting, looking laid back in her chair.

    "Shut it," Jupiter snapped half-heartedly. She did a quick scan of the room– everyone from Enobaria, Brutus, to Lucius and Lyme. "This isn't everyone," the 68th Victor pointed out.

    "It's everyone still fit to fight," Enobaria replied simply. Jupiter tended to disagree, but stayed quiet. "Now, with our last invitee here, let's begin."

    Jupiter bit her cheek at the jab, but felt it best not to say that she was late on account of debating whether she had the capacity to face a room full of the other Victors. Because that was what it was– some of the Council members and trainers who weren't Victors themselves weren't present. It was only those who had covered themselves in blood sitting before her.

    Everyone took a seat, Jupiter squashed between Lucius and a much older Victor she rarely saw these days. Even despite his age, he was lean with muscle and an air of expertise that made Jupiter wish she was anywhere else.

    "There has been an unprecedented development," Brutus began. "President Snow has announced that for this year's Quell– it will be two of us who have already won."

    Everyone at the table seemed to already know this, but the repetition of the announcement garnered some scowls and frowns.

    "It's a shame, I must admit," Enobaria tacked on. "I've seen this year's crop. They would've made good tributes." Jupiter's stomach twisted uncomfortably. "Still– the Capitol demands a show, which we have never failed to give them. This year should be no different. If anything, it should be even more exciting."

    "The Council has been deliberating for the last few days on how best to handle this situation," Brutus explained. "We feel it's most fair for us, as Victors, to nominate who we feel would be the best representative for a second time. This is not a Council matter– but a Victors'."

    Lucius cleared his throat beside her.

    "Yes?" Enobaria said.

    "How do we choose each other without, y'know, giving it away?" Lucius asked. "If it is anonymous, that is," he added hastily.

    "The voting system is built into the chairs– we use it each year to select the student volunteers," Brutus chimed in.

    A sigh of relief escaped Jupiter's lips. If it was based on voting, she was not at risk. The people in the room with her had wanted nothing to do with her since the day she had won, and they all cared too much about how their District was represented to vote for her out of spite.

    "And I'm assuming mentors will not be necessary for this year?" the man beside Jupiter spoke up.

    "No, Lionel, they won't," Enobaria responded coolly. Jupiter kept her face calm, even though the thought of returning to that house haunted her. "This year's games will work as usual– except that those who will be chosen to Volunteer will be one of us."

    Jupiter hadn't stopped to think, in her relief, about how she would have to doom one of her own to the Reaping, as the voting holograms, protected by blurry walls, popped up in front of them. She frowned down at the name cards projected before her, hands staying firmly in her lap.

    "May the odds be ever in your favour," a firm voice said. Jupiter glanced at the oldest Victor there, a woman named Decima, who still looked as harsh as the day she had won. Her arms were taught and tan, pale hair pinned back.

    Lucius got to work quickly, as if he had already made up his mind, but Jupiter could only stare down at the names. She dared to flick her gaze up, seeing the other Victors a similar mix of excited and apprehensive. There had been no set rule about voting for yourself, but Jupiter could never imagine a version of herself that wanted to go back.

    She swallowed thickly, raising her hand, finger hovering over the hologram. Lucius– she thought– was always eager to return, as he sat upright beside her, hands in his lap. He was a decent Victor, upholding the Capitol's values, willing to please them. She selected him as her male Tribute, before she was faced with the remaining names.

    Her own blinked up at her amongst the female Victors. This, she found, was not as hard a decision however. Decima was an obvious pick, but she was aged, and a soft part of Jupiter couldn't imagine sending someone with such a built up life and a disadvantage of surviving into the arena.

    Lyme had spent much of her time to herself, disinterested in the glory in a similar way to Jupiter, and for that she couldn't imagine choosing her. Enobaria's name stood out to her, eyes pausing in their scanning, and with a twinge of spite, Jupiter selected her.

    Voting didn't last much longer. Jupiter only had to sit quietly for ten minutes before everyone had wrapped up. Decima' eyes were cold as she scanned the results on her own projection, everyone else's having disappeared back into the table.

    "It is decided then," Decima spoke up, her voice betraying nothing. "Brutus and Enobaria– when the names are called, it will be you two who volunteer and return to the arena."

    Both Victors looked pleased at the idea, exchanging looks. Jupiter could only swallow thickly. Only a small part of her had feared she would be chosen, the other part had worried someone she actually liked would be going back in. Brutus– the most obvious choice– had not been someone she wanted to see go.

    "We'll make an announcement tonight," Decima continued, everyone attentive to her and the announcement. Some looked relieved, others disappointed. "That as a Council and as the Victors we have made a decision on who will volunteer. But we will not reveal who we have chosen– it'll be a show."

    Jupiter could barely manage a nod to the words as she got to her feet. Some of the Victors who were also Council members stayed behind, but Jupiter was done for the day, pushing the door open and scrambling into the hallways. She could hear Lucius' voice somewhere in her senses, but if he was speaking to her, she would hardly have noticed.

    By muscle memory she headed for the station, the receptionist briefly glancing up, as if she would get an answer from the Victor. Jupiter was simply trying to get past quickly, avoiding the portrait of her father strung up on the wall, the portrait of herself. A reminder of what a victory looked like was not what she needed in that moment.

    She wasn't sure what she had expected from the meeting. Since she had received the letter, she had waited impatiently, but now she could barely wait for the Reaping to pass and they could sink back into normalcy. She would not be a mentor this year– sentenced to weeks at the house where usually she would be spending summer days in the Capitol. The lesser of two evils, but it was not Mars.

    "What happened?" the devil in question demanded the moment Jupiter trudged into the house.

    She tried to dodge him, but he moved quickly, standing in front of her like a living wall. Jupiter swallowed thickly, looking up from her toes to meet her brother's eyes slowly.

    "Nothing," she responded coolly.

    Mars jerked forward, but Jupiter didn't flinch, expecting the intimidation technique. "Don't bullshit me, J," he snapped.

    "We voted for the tributes," she answered, voice cutting through the silence.

    Mars didn't move. "And?"

    Jupiter swallowed thickly, imagining Decima standing before her instead. "Classified," she said.

    Mars looked annoyed by the answer, but still had that edge he always did. "But it's not you," he said lowly, eyes narrowed. Jupiter's lack of response, and refusal to meet his eyes, gave him his answer. His hand came down on her shoulder, shoving her back until her lower back hit the edge of the kitchen counter. "Say it," he whispered.

    "It's not me," Jupiter said between a sharp exhale.

    Mars released his grip on her, but she stayed pressed where she was. "You'll wish you had gone back," he told her. "It only takes one day of work to get you thrown in prison– or worse." Jupiter nodded once to show she understood. "Tell me the names."

    Jupiter swallowed thickly. She owed her District no loyalty, but she wondered what a leak in their choices would result in. She also wondered what would happen to her if Mars turned her in. No, not wondered, she knew what would happen. She trusted Mars to keep his word if she gave him what he wanted– he liked her information and position as a Victor too much.

    "Brutus," she said quietly.

    "And?" he pressed.

    "Enobaria."

    "Good to know." He clapped her on the shoulder, Jupiter unable to hide a flinch, before he pulled away. "Ma's upstairs," he called over his shoulder as he left the room, Jupiter left with her hands braced against the counter.

    And Jupiter suddenly realised what felt off about the living space. It was dead silent except for the creaking of Mars' footsteps as he headed upstairs. The TV screen was empty and dark, Jupiter's warped reflection staring back at her, and her mother was nowhere to be seen.

    Yet again, Jupiter couldn't help but feel things were changing just below a surface she had not breached yet.

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hello i am back sort of! i found this fic a bit challenging to get back into, but fear not, i am here