The Capitol women, with their rosy pink skin and plum-tinted eyes, looked blankly at Esme. Their jewel-studded skin gleamed against the sun, and Esme suddenly felt so exposed, so bare. She never dressed as elaborately as other people in the Capitol did. They were bright and bold, and she was just ordinary.
Esme walked down the streets in a plain blue dress, her one tattoo trailing down her arm. It was of a tiger's face, etched in black and gold. Her violet wig was styled in an elegant bob. She continued over the bridge with her friend, Jacinda, to the city square.
Jacinda clutched Esme's arm. "Can you believe it's finally here? The Games! It's so exciting."
"I can't wait," Esme murmured. When Jacinda talked about the Games, she couldn't stop.
Jacinda turned heads, even in the blur of Capitol fashion. She wore a tight green suit, jewels embedded near her light blue eyes, making them pop. Her skin was dyed a soapy, lavender color.
"I just know this year will be the best Hunger Games yet!"
Esme rolled her eyes. Jacinda said that every year, always with the same enthusiastic grin.
Her parents, as usual, were hosting the biggest parties in celebration. Their home in the Capitol was usually packed with people, dancing and talking, eating the delicious food and rushing to the bathroom to throw it up. Esme usually hid in her room with Jacinda, who insisted she was crazy to miss them.
She wished she could be normal, the daughter her parents would want. The girl who participates in reenactments or is ecstatic to go on vacations to the old arenas. She dreaded watching the Games every year. Esme hated the sight of blood, and she always witheld the urge to vomit whenever a tribute's throat was ripped out.
Esme knew about rebels, the message they spread, their hatred for the Hunger Games. She had met one of them. His name was Tiberius, a boy from District 10. He had managed to enter the Capitol, and hid for days with a group of rebels. Esme didn't think she'd become trapped with the boy in the tunnel, or listen to him explain life in the Districts.
Hours had passed, and Esme was crouched in the darkness with the boy. Footsteps echoed above, crashing down and causing a monstrous echo that bounced off the stone walls. Esme wasn't supposed to wander through the Capitol after dark, but she snuck out anyway. She ran into the boy in the middle of the street. He was running from something, Esme thought. That was when the boy grabbed her arm and pulled her down the alleyway.
She shrieked and tried to fight him off, but he was very strong. He clamped his hand over her mouth.
"I'm sorry. I'm, uh, really sorry. But you're going to have to be my hostage." The boy stammered into your ear.
That's when a group of Peacekeepers in their dove-white uniforms chasing another group of boys down the street. An alarm blared, and Esme knew that more of them would arrive. Was the boy one of these rebels? These traitors? How did they come here?
Many questions buzzed like honeybees in her mind. She felt dizzy with fear, and the boy led her to an empty tunnel.
Esme wanted to run away, but she realized that if she even moved, she could get killed.
"You're not as deformed as the rest of them. Shouldn't you have scales or whiskers? Or blue skin? " The boy, who she found out was called Tiberius, asked.
"You shouldn't judge people by the way they look. You said you were from 10, right? You don't look like a butcher, or a rebel," Esme snapped.
He put his hands up in surrender. "I didn't mean to offend you. I sometimes say stupid things without meaning them. Just forget I said anything."
Esme sighed. "Fine."
She sat on the ground, not caring if her dress is muddy and her boots are ruined. Esme felt so angry, so useless. Tiberius was determined and courageous, he fought for anything he wanted. She had no passions, no dreams. The Capitol was only about what was now, not what's next.
"You are going to get caught. All of you. President Snow and his men are brilliant. They'll find you and this silly plan of yours, whatever it may be, will be ruined." Esme said bravely.
Tiberius howled with laughter, hunching over. He kept laughing for a while.
Esme crossed her arms. "Are you finished?"
"Yes." He breathed heavily, standing up.
"You have no idea what you're talking about, do you? You think we're evil, but people in the districts see us as heroes. We're finally fighting back. And we'll win this time." Tiberius said.
"That's crazy!" Esme whispered frantically. "Starting a war won't change anything."
"I'd die for my District. Wouldn't you fight for something like that?"
"Look! Esme! The tributes!" Jacinda said, smiling gleefully as she pointed to one of the television screens propped up against the skyscrapers. The interviews were starting, and each tribute's name and picture floated in the sky.
Hundreds of gasps and murmurs filled the crowd.
Jacinda lead Esme to the nearest screen, clutching her hand. Caesar Flickerman appeared on the screen, and Jacinda sighed.
"It's him!" she whispered.
Esme didn't say anything, watching as he interviewed each tribute. She could almost spot her mother and father in the crowd, their matching sun-yellow outfits glistening. Her mother, Tatiana's wig was an outrageous shade of blue, her ruffled gown almost swallowing her.
Jacinda pointed to her parents on the screen, surprised. "Look! I told my mother that that fuchsia gown wouldn't look good on camera. She never listens."
After a while, another tribute began his interview. "So, Tiberius, how are you enjoying the Capitol?"
Esme's heart sank. She recognized his dark hair and gray-blue eyes. He glanced at the camera with a shy, scared smile. She thought she was prepared for this, but an ache formed in the pit of her stomach.
"It's been interesting." Tiberius said.
The interview went on, and Esme felt sick. He looked so frightened. Jacinda's eyes were glued to the screen and Esme dug her fingernails into her arm. Would Esme have to watch him die on a television screen? Would she always have his blood on her hands?
Tiberius's face flashed on the screen one last time, frozen.
Jacinda squinted at the screen. "What's going on? That's never happened before."
Without warning, all the screens turned off. A message began to play, over and over again. The square became flooded with Peacekeepers, like white birds cutting through the skies. Rebels.
The screen continued to flash, and Esme read the message.
IT'S OUR TURN TO PLAY THE GAME.