Cinna's crazy, I decided as he came towards me with a lighter. I backed away quickly. "No. No way, Cinna. I'm not setting myself on fire, thank you," I told him. He smiled. "It's not real fire, Katniss, look." He waved his hand through the fire to demonstrate. His hand wasn't burnt.

"Come on, Katniss. How bad could it be?" Peeta tried to negotiate with me. I warily allowed Cinna to come closer. "Just because I trust you." I said cautiously. He nodded gravely, and then, he set me on fire.

I stepped into the chariot with Peeta, who was also flickering with realistic fire. We were the last to enter the City Circle, so we had a few seconds before we entered the view of the spectators. I noticed many of the other tributes glaring enviously at our costumes, and I couldn't blame them. Our costumes were splendid, especially compared to those who were dressed as trees or fishes. We were both clothed in some sort of black shiny fabric, almost like leather, and wore capes which were, at the moment, engulfed in a synthetic flame.

Peeta was looking around at the other tributes too. "Aren't you glad we got Cinna? This is much better than coal miners' outfits," he whispered. I suppressed a laugh; for as long as I could remember, the tributes from District 12 had been dressed as miners for the parade. So yes, being the embodiment of fire was definitely better.

"District 2's not too bad though; they look like immortals." I glanced over to where Peeta was pointing. The brunette girl was dressed in a gown of shimmery gold, with an elegant headdress. Her face was mostly natural except for some gold eyeliner, and her eyelashes had flecks of gold which sparkled each time she blinked. The boy was dressed in a Grecian-style suit of armor, with a sleeveless tunic made out of elaborate golden chain mail, and a laurel wreath wrought from gold. The whole effect was quite mesmerizing, but they still couldn't beat our costumes.

I accidentally made eye contact with the male tribute from District 2. He raised his eyebrows in appraisal, smirked, and then winked at me. I turned away, not even bothering to react. I was above him; I was flame and he was gold, and fire melted metal.

It was time to go. District 1 went out first, with District 2 following. Soon, it was our turn. Peeta turned to me and offered his hand. "Ready?"

I hesitated – was I ready? I hadn't decided by the time the horses hitched to our chariot started moving, but I decided that holding Peeta's hand was a much more attractive alternative to falling out of the chariot. As I gripped his hand, I whispered, "I guess so." He chuckled.

I wondered if Prim and my mother were watching. A pang of sadness hit me, threatening to double me over. Were they okay? I knew Gale was taking care of them, but sometimes hunting could be hard, especially if you were trying to take care of two families. Peeta saw my face and squeezed my hand reassuringly. I looked up at him and made myself smile. It would be okay.

As the entrance came forward to meet us, the sadness cleared and was replaced by excitement and a little apprehension. This was it. This was our time to make an impression and hopefully gain sponsors. I was aware of a lot of shouting, but it seemed muffled. As soon as we crossed the threshold, though, the noise became immediately deafening. There were thousands of people in the stands, each already cheering for their favorite tribute. When the crowds saw us, the noise escalated even more.

We must have been quite a sight, our capes flowing behind us, crackling with fire and light. Peeta and I waved and smiled at the crowd, making them scream even louder for us. I caught a red rose which had been tossed to us along with numerous others and smelled it, blowing a kiss in the general direction of the crowd.

We were the last to pull up in front of the huge stage. It had a single podium at the front, and behind that podium stood President Snow. I could feel his eyes raking across the tributes; I held back a shudder when his gaze passed over me.

He started speaking, but I didn't really listen; I was still feeling a rush from the chariot ride. Finally, he finished and we were allowed to leave. Our horses trotted to the exit, where Peeta helped me down from the chariot. He pulled me into quick hug but let go before I had a chance to react. I decided to ignore it, and smiled brightly as Cinna, Haymitch and Effie ran up to us.

"That was fabulous!" Effie gushed.

Cinna put his hands on my shoulders and said, "You were beautiful, Katniss."

I smiled and looked at Haymitch. "Good job, sweetheart. I can't believe you pulled that off," he intoned sarcastically, but he looked secretly pleased. Amidst all this celebration, though, I noticed he was glancing furtively at something behind us.

I turned around and saw the District 1 and 2 tributes glaring at us. Most of them turned away when they saw me and Haymitch staring back, except the boy from 2. He locked eyes with me, not allowing me to look away. His stare was almost predatory; I felt like a cornered animal and could feel my adrenaline levels rising through the roof.

"Katniss… Katniss!" Peeta's voice finally drew me back.

I tore my gaze from the District 2 boy and glanced at Peeta, annoyed. "What?"

"We're leaving, come on." I followed him through the crowd of tributes and mentors to an elevator. As we rode, Effie never stopped blathering about our performance, and Cinna's handiwork. We were all glad to get out of the elevator and away from her by the time we reached the twelfth floor.

While we were eating dinner, Haymitch started explaining how our training would go. "You'll get three days of training. I want you to use it wisely. Don't waste it showing off your skills - try to learn new ones. That means no archery, Katniss, and Peeta, no weight lifting or wrestling. Try something like knife-throwing or camouflage." Peeta and I nodded solemnly.

Later that night, I curled up on the couch and watched the reapings from the other districts. All four tributes from Districts 1 and 2 had volunteered. I wrinkled my nose in disgust. Those tributes had been trained all their lives for the Hunger Games. When they were eighteen, they were allowed to volunteer.

I had the volume muted so I wouldn't wake anyone else, which meant I couldn't hear their names, but the boy from District 2 intrigued me. He walked up to the stage confidently, his face masked in arrogance. It seemed to me that was exactly what it was: a mask. I'd be willing to bet he was hiding fear. The girl from his district, though, had no façade. She was crazy through and through; you could tell by the glint in her eyes. I wouldn't like to come face-to-face with her in the Games.

Eventually, I went to bed, showering and getting into pajamas. However, I proceeded to lie there for two hours. I couldn't sleep a wink; my body was still full of adrenaline from the chariot show, the hungry stares of the other tributes – especially that District 2 boy.

I sighed and got up. It was going to be a long night. I might as well get something done.

Quietly, I pulled on a dark green shirt and soft brown leggings, and made my way out the door. I snuck through the hallways, hiding whenever I saw Peacekeepers or other officials. Finally I found the training room, where we would be stationed for most of tomorrow. It was locked, but it wasn't an electronic lock – piece of cake to pick. I pulled a pin from my hair and stuck it in the key hole, twisting it around expertly. After a few seconds, I heard a satisfying click. I grinned; like I said, that was easy.

Just as I was opening the door, though, I heard footsteps. They were a while off, but there was no doubt that they were headed in my direction. The footsteps didn't have the "clank" of a Peacekeeper's boots, but they did sound ominous. I quickly relocked the door and ran around a corner, watching to see who else was up at two in the morning.

It was the gold-boy from District 2. He was less intimidating without his costume on, but he still was clearly a force to be reckoned with. His shirt showed off his broad shoulders and a muscled chest, and his stance had a hint of military training, almost like the Peacekeepers.

He didn't see me peeking around the corner as he jiggled the lock on the training room door. I heard him swear, and he kicked the door in frustration. I had to suppress a giggle; it was absolutely comical to see a guy like him thwarted by a simple lock.

His head whipped around, looking for the sound. I cursed to myself and fled back to my room. It wouldn't do for him to catch me in a secluded hallway at two in the morning. Judging by his glares at the chariot event, he was angry that Peeta and I had outshone him. I involuntarily smirked; he probably wouldn't be winking at me again anytime soon. I fell asleep that night knowing I'd need all the rest I could get for tomorrow. We had three days, and I had a feeling I wasn't going to get a lot of sleep between now and then.