Peeta: in the arena with Prim

Chapter 6

"Okay, we're finished. Portia should be able to handle the rest." Danoime exclaims as they prance out of the room. I'm suddenly left alone in the room with my aching body. I try to use the time and gather my thoughts. Okay Peeta, I think to myself. Make an impression and get sponsors. Keep Prim alive, and if she dies, make sure it's not your weapon. I chuckle at the last part of my mental list. I most likely won't even be able to get my hands on a weapon. Who knows, maybe I'll be dead in the first few minutes. If I'm to die soon, it will be making sure Prim makes it out of the Bloodbath safely. She has to live.

My thought are interrupted by the sound of heels clinking against the cold ground. Suddenly, the door to this little room opens and in walks who I think is Portia, my stylist. She is wearing a dark shade of lipstick that matching her sweater she wears around her shoulders. Her dress is knee-length and matches the colors of her poofy hair, which is yellow and a light orange. Her heels are very large, but they don't even compare to the height of Rovinia's.

"Hello, my dear," She says, and her Capitol accent is there, but it's not as strong as my prep team's. "My name is Portia. I will be your stylist."

"Hi, I'm-"

"Peeta, yes, I know," she cuts me off. Is that what everyone in the Capitol does? Do they start a conversation and continue it by interrupting each other? I find it rather annoying, but try not to show my irritation. "Now, how old are you?"

"16," I mumble, looking down at the ground. I know that it won't matter soon, since I'll surely dead or dying.

"Excellent. Well as you know, the tribute parade is tonight. Tonight is when this year's tributes are flaunted to all of Panem. You are to make impressions and get sponsors."

"It's kind of hard to gets sponsors when you're dressed up in a stupid costume," I snap at her. District 12 is mining, so every year we're sent on our chariot as miners covered in coal dust from head-to-toe. And every year, we're the laughing stocks of the tribute parade.

"Who says you'll be in a stupid costume?" She asks me with a grin.

"Well, we're always coal miners," I tell her. She chuckles and puts her hand on my shoulder.

"This year, you won't be in a dumb costume. Trust me," Portia smiles at me. "Cinna and I have something....exciting planned for this year. Something...unforgettable. This will make an impression."

"Who is Cinna?" I ask, confused.

"He is Prim's stylist this year," Portia explains. "Now, wait here."

I sit back on the counter and wait for Portia to return to the room. Since the tributes dress to reflect their district, I don't see how Portia and Cinna are going to pull this off without making us look like fools.

After what feels like years, Portia enters with a suit. She orders me to put it on, so I don't argue. I slip my arms in the sleeves and find that they are very stretchy and comfortable. I put on the tight-fitting pants and the bulky boots that have been laid out for me. I turn to the mirror and am astonished. I don't look foolish, but instead I look like I have power. Over what, I'm not sure. But the feeling of strength also lingers in the seams of my costume. Portia turns to me and I smile at her.

"Wow.." I start, still in awe of how I look. She grins at me, and I turn back to the mirror again. "This looks amazing!" I beam.

"Thank you, but the real magic hasn't happened yet," Portia says as she gels my hair away from my face. My hair now looks like it contains little waves, swooping towards the back of my head. Luckily, she doesn't use as much to where I'd resemble Areelo.

"What do you mean?" I ask her. What else could she add to the costume with the little amount of time we have left?

"You'll see," Portia assures me as she lead me out of the room. We walk down a long hallway until we start to see horses and chariots. As Portia guides me to our chariot, I pass many other tributes. One tribute really stick out to me. He is tall and muscular, and he is wearing a costume made of gold. His costume is sleeveless, showing off his muscle. He glares at me with an evil smirk spreading across his lips. Great, I think to myself. How am I going to protect myself, let alone Prim, from that guy? But I know I must, and I will find a way. No matter how long it takes.

Portia and I continue to walk until we see Prim and her stylist, Cinna. Prim's costume is identical to mine, and hair hair has been done into fancy braids, being pulled back against her head. She has on minimal makeup, which is good. She still needs to look her age. It will surely help with sponsors. As we approach, Portia stops me. She pulls out a jet black cape to match my costume and pins it to my back. Cinna does the same to Prim. I'm about to ask why as Cinna pulls out a torch erupting in flames.

A/N: hey guys! Sorry I haven't updated in awhile! I'm going to try to update more! I hope you enjoy:)