It was a sprawling mansion of a house. There was a pool out back and the staircase split into two winding spirals. Girl's rooms were on the left, boy's on the right.
The whole place was rigged with cameras, but not the visible kind that used to hang in the corner of rooms like spiders. These days, the walls were made of cameras, recording all.
The concept was based off those old two-way mirrors, and the tributes only saw brickwork and tiles, yet the walls saw all and broadcast every detail to the nation.
Never had the phrase 'The walls have ears' been more apt.
The kitchen had all the usual utensils. The knife that Clove used to dice onions could be the one embedded in your neck later that night. Thresh carried the sack of potatoes with ease, and hefted it onto the counter, and Marissa imagined him grabbing her and cracking her head against the wall with little effort.
The daily announcement came on. There were no speakers to be seen, but the words filled the air around them nonetheless.
"Tonight, a dance will be held. Best dresses for the ladies and best suits for the men. Points will be awarded for style and dancing ability."
They had two hours to get ready. The group dispersed almost immediately, dinner forgotten.
Razors scraped up and down legs, makeup was smeared across faces, grins were plastered on. She watched Glimmer style her hair with a straightener, a convenient weapon, and then apply lipgloss, which was not quite so deadly.
Katniss undid her tight braid and her hair spun out from her skull in loose curls. She sat on the edge of her bed, petulant, unwilling to put on more makeup, and clearly uncomfortable in her dress, though Marissa thought it was beautiful.
The other girls chatted happily, as if they weren't all going to kill one another eventually. It was fascinating to watch, but not so comforting to think that she might be one of the dead ones come next week.
Some of the tributes were at a distinct disadvantage, and not just self-induced like Katniss. Girls like Rue were just too young to look like anything special in a dress. She looked pretty sure, but no one voted for pretty. Marissa didn't feel very sorry for her. More points for the rest of them.
She put mascara on her own eyes, knowing that her red lashes didn't stand out enough for Capitol tastes, and surveyed herself. She wouldn't rank anywhere near Glimmer, but she didn't look too bad either. Her district partner better look good.
Of course, even their preperation would be broadcast. Viewers with voyeuristic tendencies liked to watch the teens preen themselves, and what was the point of the Games if not entertainment?
She danced with the boy from her district that night. It was easy, and she fell into step with him as if they'd been doing it forever. One of his clammy hands held her lower back, the other the back of her neck. She thought of how he could snap it easily, if he was so inclined. He wasn't. He was weak.
Katniss and Peeta held one another like lovers - which wasn't unheard of, not at all- and she had her head on his shoulder, whispering into his ear softly.
Twelve probably thought she was being clever, and she would fool the viewers, who presumably thought she was telling Peeta how much she loved him. As if. They were planning, plotting.
One of the girls she didn't know very well slipped in her heels, went down, splaying her hands in front of her. When she stood again her palms were cut and dirtied. Weakness. She blushed.
Marissa eyed the fairy lights that decorated the garden as she and her partners spun in slow circles. They could be wrapped around a throat easily enough, she reckoned, and you could then choke someone with a good sharp tug.
She knew every household in Panem was being forced to vote now, for Best dressed and Best couple. You couldn't vote for your own district's tribute, of course.
Her mother was watching at home right now, and voting for someone else. Katniss laughed in Peeta's arms and Marissa thought she knew who would win Best couple.
Tonight's winners would get a couple of hundred points, and points meant everything. Every child between twelve and eighteen was put in for reaping, but you could buy your way out for a year if you had the points. You could actually buy your way out every year, but only Capitol citizens had that kind of wealth.
Clove and Cato made an odd pair. She was lithe yet sharp, and he was just muscle with a mouth. Marissa didn't underestimate them though. They were extremely dangerous, but she reckoned she was under their radar for now. For now, they just wanted to kill the Twelves, and for good reason.
After two weeks, whoever was still alive walked out of the house, with whatever points they had accumulated over the fortnight.
When someone was killed, their points were divided between the group.
The smaller the group left, the more points per person everyone got per death.
So there was a great incentive to kill the slow low-ranking members who wouldn't put up a fight, and an even fiercer one to kill those with more points later on, so to get a greater share of the points yourself.
Katniss and Peeta were actually pretty safe for the first week, because no one wanted to kill them this early on and only get a small dividend of the points. Marissa hoped that Katniss was planning something good for next week though, because things were going to get fun.
Twelves won that night, as expected. Cato and Clove were furious, yet restrained for now, as expected.
And the girl who had fallen in her heels was found the next morning floating face-down in the pool, as expected.