The Tribute Parade

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"You're sure?"

"Yes, this is safe, I promise." 

Cinna tells me for the fifth time. We are due to start The Tribute Parade at any minute and I'm still wary about the costumes Cinna has given Peeta and I. We are wearing simple black unitards complete with small black headdresses that I wasn't particularly fond of.  The thing that bothered me though was that Cinna had told us that he had placed something inside our outfits to make them catch fire. And I for one, wasn't really a fan of the idea of burning to death in front of millions of people across Panem. 

"They're synthetic flames, they won't hurt you." Cinna promises once again. I bite my lip but nod and decide to trust him. I glance around at some of the other tributes, spotting the ones with the more flamboyant costumes and resolve to just look ahead until we have to go. Cinna tells us to get on our chariot. It is black like our costumes and pulled by two large black stallions. 

"Try to be friendly. Smile, wave." Cinna says. "Remember, you want these people to like you you. It may seem tedious and unnecessary but try to act like you like them, are fond of them even." 

I snort. That's a challenge in its self. There is a faint hum of music outside the doors, which have just swung open. Before I know it, District one's chariot is already pulling out. Being from 12 we are due to enter last. As District 11's chariot pulls out just in front of us, I square my shoulders and hold my head high. We start to move forward and I hear Cinna yell something indistinct from behind us. 

"What did he say?" I ask Peeta. 

"I think he said to hold hands." Peeta responds. I frown slightly, but quickly wipe the look off my face and do my best to smile as we roll through the doors. Peeta's hand is gripping mine tightly as I get my first look around.

Hundreds of thousands of people are crowded together hooting and hollering as they get their first look at this year's batch of tributes. As soon as they set eyes on us a hushed silence falls. Well, for about two seconds.

When the audience gets over their initial shock they start screaming Peeta and I's names so desperately it becomes unnerving. I notice that there are large screens around the humongous room and I can't help but glance up at the ones displaying us. What I see shocks me and satisfies me.

Peeta and I look dangerous and bold. Flames billowing off of us that look so real I almost think I feel actual heat for a second. I feel a jerk and my hand goes upward. Peeta had raised our interlocked hands into the air, and crowd goes absolutely nuts. It's a miracle none of the  have lost their voices yet. I noticed that roses have landed inside and out of our chariot. I begin to feel a small blossom of hope make its way through my chest. 

Maybe we will get sponsors after all. Maybe this whole thing isn't a lost cause I think to myself. We reach the other end of the space, where the rest of the tributes are gathered. Our flames go out and I rapidly let go of Peeta's hand. I look up at a balcony and see that President Snow has begun to speak. I don't really listen. He's probably just blabbering the same crap as he does every year; about how fortunate we are to represent our districts, and how we should be ever so grateful for the opportunity or whatever. 

***

"That was amazing!" Cinna congratulates us once we have made our way back to where we started, away from the crowd. The rest of the tributes are gathered around us, talking to their own stylists or simply glaring at us. We outshone them, and it appears as if they aren't exactly happy about it. 

"We are all anyone is going to be talking about!" Effie says excitedly, patting me on the shoulder.

"So brave." Haymitch slurs for behind her. I take in his usual drunken state and snort.

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