Chapter Three

Corey couldn't sleep. He always had trouble falling asleep, even back at home, but now it seemed an impossible goal. Even if nothing was wrong, the gentle 'hum' of the train was even too much.

He wandered back to the rest of their compartments. They had to share the train with the other tributes; district one was in the front and twelve in the back. Each district had a certain amount of cars to themselves, for sleeping quarters and eating, and one for 'lounging' as Shediel had put it. Corey found himself in the 'lounging' compartment, curled up on one of the several cushioned bench seats, resting his forehead against the glass.

The sun had set a little while ago, and the sky was still too light to see any stars. Corey doubted he would be able to see any once they arrived in the Capitol. He loved stars. They were simple and unchanging, they had their place in the universe and they stayed there. They knew exactly where they belonged.

There was a soft 'whoosh' of a door opening and Korral curled up next to him, leaning into his side and gazing out the window. "Can't sleep?" She muttered. Corey shook his head. "I'm sorry about before. If I knew that dad was like that, that things were that bad, I would have–"

"You would've dropped everything to help me, I know. But you would have given up your dream, everything you worked so hard for." Corey sighed, shifting to wrap an arm around Korral. "That's why I was angry, because you had a plan. You knew what you were going to do, and you gave it up. Even if you survive this, you won't be the same. And you know they don't let victors join up."

"Maybe not, but there is no way I would rather go out than fighting for you. Fighting beside you. I...I think I knew that being at home was hard for you. I knew that you were giving up your own dreams for the rest of us, and that's why I stayed away. I couldn't watch you do that to yourself."

Corey laughed a little, squeezing his sister into a side-hug. "I guess I can forgive you, then. You could've handled it better, but it's the thought that counts, I suppose." Korral sniffed, smiling wetly. "But only if you tell me what you were doing all that time you were gone. I know it wasn't just school work and training."

Korral groaned, hiding her face. "No," she whined. "It's embarrassing!"

Corey gasped, nudging her arm. "Why? Were you meeting a secret lover?" He'd meant it as a joke but Korral's face turned bright red and she wouldn't meet his eyes. He gaped at her. "Shut up. You really have been seeing someone?! Who are they? Are they nice? Do I know them? They better be the right age!"

Korral laughed, pushing Corey away jokingly. "Her name is Searra. And no, you don't know her. She's a year older than me, and her family runs the little pawnshop. She's a bad influence." Korral wrinkled her nose. "I think we both knew that whatever we had was never going to go anywhere. We were just distractions for each other."

Corey hummed, hugging his sister close again. "I'm sorry too. About letting you stay out so late, about...keeping all that shit with dad from you. For what I said earlier."

"Did you really mean it?" Korral asked. "When you said you wanted to die in these Games?"

Corey sighed. "I just kind of said it, I wasn't really thinking about it. But yes. I did mean it. I would rather die in that arena than live and have the Capitol use me as their personal toy. I would rather die than go on that Victory Tour and have to look the families of the people I killed in the eye. I would rather die than go back home and have Shelby and Nadia grow up knowing that I'm some kind of murderer. I would rather die than let you be killed so I can win."

Korral was quiet for a moment before she nodded against his shoulder. "Me too," she whispered. "Me too."

The next morning, Finnick walked into the breakfast car to see Corey and his sister stacking all the strawberry tarts on top of each other. They were six tarts high when the stack fell and so they both shoved a tart in their mouths and started over, laughing like school children.

"Ahem," Finnick cleared his throat, sitting down. Shediel had entered through the other door and he looked very tired, wearing an emerald green suit that matched his eyes. Both siblings looked up at their mentor, faces smeared with pink-ish whipped cream. "Did I miss something here?" Finnick asked, raising an eyebrow. "Yesterday you too were fighting like cats and dogs."

Korral shrugged as she took her seat, Corey sliding in next to her. "We made up. So did you wanna talk about strategy?" Finnick seemed surprised by the speed at which the two could hate each other and then make up, but he referred to Korral's inquiry.

"Yes. Your strategy will be your play, through the interviews and training, and into the Games. How do you plan on presenting yourself before the Capitol? Who do you want to ally with? What will you do in the arena? Stuff like that. The sooner we can have it figured out, the better.

"Okay," Corey stuffed another tart in his mouth. (They were probably the most delicious thing he'd ever had.) "What do you suggest?"

Finnick hummed, looking back and forth between the two of them. "I think we should milk this whole 'siblings' thing for as much as it's worth. People are going to go crazy for this, it's like some sob story drama thing."

"'Cause one of us is going to die?" Corey asked, deadpan. Finnick winced. "When you put it that way, yes. It will make you seem more realistic. The people want something they can root for, and the doomed siblings are exactly what that is."

"The doomed siblings, huh?" Korral asked, reaching for a glass of water. "Catchy." Finnick rolled his eyes. "Which one of you is younger? We can play the 'protective older siblings' card too."

"Corey's younger." Korral said, grinning. Corey sighed. "By one fucking minute, Korral, seriously!" Korral laughed.

"You two are...twins?" Finnick asked, sounding oddly excited. Corey nodded. "We're both seventeen in six days." Finnick grinned. "This is even better! What's worse than separating twins? I want you two to stick beside each other, okay? You're not to be seen apart. We're going to play this for all it's worth!"

When the train finally pulled into the Capitol and the tributes exited, Corey had Korral's hand in a death grip. Finnick had instructed them to be together as much as they could, but if Corey was being honest, he didn't need Finnick to tell him that. The Capitol was a lot. Of everything. People, noise, lights, smells, everything was just everywhere all at once and Corey was not embarrassed to say that he was clinging to Korral like a toddler.

He smiled and waved, trying his best to be 'charming', and everyone was screaming. They called his name and Korral's name, and he could hear them screaming the other tribute's names, too. Corey hadn't seen any of the others yet. Finnick made them watch the Reaping ceremonies on the tv so they could feel out the competition, but Corey hadn't paid much attention.

To him, it didn't matter who looked the strongest, or who seemed the weakest. If he was going to ally with anyone, he wanted people he could trust. He had seen all the Games where tributes allied and then turned around and killed everyone who was supposed to trust them while they all slept.

If he was going to do anything, he was going to make sure his sister won these games, and to do that, they needed allies they could trust.