I've been in the Remake Center for
more than three hours and I still haven't met my stylist. Apparently she has no interest in seeing me until my prep team have addressed some obvious problems. This has included
scrubbing down my body with a gritty foam that has removed not only dirt but at least three layers of skin and shaving what little facial hair I have.
The three step back and admire their work. "Excellent! You almost look like a human being now!" says one, and they all laugh.
My skin feels sore and tingling and
intensely vulnerable. But I have kept my side of the bargain with
Haymitch, I force my lips up into a smile to show how grateful I am."Thank you, " I say kindly. "We don't have much cause to look nice in District Twelve."
This wins them over completely. "Of course, you don't, you poor thing !" they say in distress for me.
"But don't worry," they say. "By the time Portia is through with you, you're going to be bloody handsome!"
"We promise! You know, now that we've gotten rid of all the hair and filth, you're not horrible at all! Let's call Portia!"
They dart out of the room. It's hard to hate my prep team.They're such total idiots. And yet, in an odd way, I know they're sincerely trying to help me.
The door opens and a young woman who must be Portia enters. She isnt surgically altered like most of the stylists they interview on television but doesnt lack the capital look.
"Hello, (Y/N). I'm Portia, your stylist" she says in a very light capital acceny.
"Hello," I venture cautiously
"You're new, aren't you? I don't think I've seen you before,"I say. Most of the stylists are familiar, constants in the ever-changing pool of tributes. Some have been around my whole life.
"Yes, this is my first year in the Games," says Portia."So they gave you District Twelve," I say. Newcomers
generally end up with us, the least desirable district.
"Yes" she says without further
explanation. "Why don't you put on your robe and we'll have a chat."
Pulling on my robe, I follow her through a door into a sitting room.
Portia invites me to sit on one of the black couches and takes her place across from me.
She presses a button on the side of the table. The top splits and from
below rises a second tabletop that holds our lunch. Chicken and
chunks of oranges cooked in a creamy sauce laid on a bed of pearly white grain, tiny green peas and onions, rolls shaped like flowers, and for dessert, a pudding the color of honey and two glasses of red wine.
What must it be like, I wonder, to live in a world where food appears at the press of a button?
"So,(Y/N), about your costume for the opening ceremonies.Me and my partner, Cinna who is the stylist for your fellow tribute, Katniss have decided to dress you in similar costumes," says Cinna. "As you know,it's customary to reflect the flavor of the district."
For the opening ceremonies, you're supposed to wearsomething that suggests your district's principal industry.
"So, I'll be in a coal miner outfit?" I ask, hoping it won't be anything indecent.
"Not exactly. You see, Cinna and I think that coal miner thing's very overdone. No one will remember you in that."
One year, ourtributes were stark naked and covered in black powder to represent coal dust. It's always dreadful and does nothing to win
favor with the crowd. Is that where she is going? I prepare myself for the worst.
"So rather than focus on the coal mining itself, we're going to focus on the coal," says Cinna.
So I'm m going to be naked and covered in black dust, I think.
"And what do we do with coal? We burn it," says Portia.
"You're not afraid of fire, are you,(Y/N)?"
A Few hours later
I am dressed in what will either be the most sensational or the deadliest costume in the opening ceremonies. I'm in a simple sleeveless black shirt and pants. Shiny leather boots lace up to my knees. But it's the fluttering cape made of streams of orange, yellow, and red and the matching headpiece that define this costume. Portia plans to light them on fire just before our chariot rolls into the streets.
"It's not real fire just synthetic flame that we came up with"she says.Fire is Fire, my pyrophobia just makes all this worse.
Just then I see Katniss arrive with her stylist Cinna and her prop team.She is dressed in identical costume. Knowing her she might just be as scared as me.
We're whisked down to the bottom level of the Remake Center, which is a gigantic stable. The opening ceremonies are about to start. Pairs of tributes are being loaded into chariots pulled by teams of four horses. Ours are coal black.
"What do you think?"Katniss whisper to me. "About the fire?"
"I'll rip off your cape if you'll rip off mine," I says through gritted teeth.
"Fair enough "she says "Maybe, if we can get them off soon enough,we'll avoid the worst burns. It's bad though. They'll throw us into the arena no matter what condition we're in.I know we promised Haymitch we'd do exactly what they said, but I don't think he considered this angle."
"Where is Haymitch, anyway? Isn't he supposed to protect us from this sort of thing?"I ask. "With all that alcohol in him, it's probably not advisable to
have him around an open flame,"Katniss says.
And suddenly we're both laughing. I guess we're both so petrified of being
turned into human torches that we have lost it.
In no time at all,we are approaching the door and I can see that between the overcast sky and evening hour the light is turning gray. The tributes from District 11 are just rolling out when Cinna appears with a lighted torch. "Here we go then," he says, and before we can react he sets our capes on fire. There is only a faint ticklingsensation. Cinna climbs up before us and ignites our head dresses. He lets out a sigh of relief."It works."
What does he mean by 'it works' was he not sure it would work and still went on with it.
"Remember, heads high. Smiles. They're going to love you!"
Cinna jumps off the chariot and has one last idea. He shouts something up at us, but the music drowns him out. He shouts again and gestures.
"What's he saying?" I ask Katniss . For the first time, I look at her and realize that ablaze with the fake flames, she looks stunning .
And I must be too, right?
"I think he said for us to hold hands,
" says Katniss. I grab her right hand in my left, and we look to Cinna for confirmation.He nods and gives a thumbs-up, and that's the last thing I see before we enter the city.
The crowd's initial alarm at our appearance quickly changes
to cheers and shouts of "District Twelve!" Every head is turned
our way, pulling the focus from the three chariots ahead of us. At first, I'm frozen, but then I catch sight of us on a large television screen and am floored by how breathtaking we look
For the first time, I feel a flicker of hope rising up in me.Surely, there must be one sponsor willing to take us on! And with a little extra help, some food, the right weapon, why should
we count ourselves out of the Games?
"Katniss! Katniss!" that's all I can hear from all sides.
Alright just ignore me.
It's not until we enter the City Circle that I realize I must have completely stopped the circulation in Katniss 's hand. That's how tightly I've been holding it. I look down at our linked
fingers as I loosen my grasp, but she regains her grip on me. "No,
don't let go of me," she says. The firelight flickers off her gray
eyes. "Please. I might fall out of this thing.""Okay," I say. So I keep holding on.
Our horses pull our chariot right up to President Snow's mansion, and we come to halt . The music ends with a flourish.
The president gives his speech from the balcony .
When the national anthem plays,
they do make an effort to do a quick cut around to each pair of
tributes, but the camera holds on the District 12 chariot as it parades around the circle one final time and disappears into the Training Center.
The doors have only just shut behind us when we're engulfed by the prep teams. As I glance around, I notice a lot of the other tributes are shooting us dirty looks, which confirms what I've suspected, we've literally outshined them all.
Then Cinna and Portia are there, helping us down from the chariot, carefully removing our flaming capes and headdresses. Portia extinguishes them with some kind of spray.
I realize I'm still glued to Katniss and force my stiff fingers to open. We both massage our hands.
"Thanks for keeping hold of me. I was getting a little shaky there" says Katniss .
"It didn't show," I tell her "I'm sure no one noticed."
"I'm sure they didn't notice anything but you, only if we had flames in District 12 you'd be the talk of the town" I says. "They suit you."
She gives me a smile that seems so genuinely sweet with just the right touch of shyness that unexpected warmth rushes through me.
Suddenly a warning bell goes off in my head.
The games have only just begun.