"Barley! Barley!" Mom called up the stairs. "You'll be late! Now come on!"

I slid off my bed, grabbed my wallet, and ran down to where Mom was waiting. Stevie and Charlie were waiting for me, both looking uncomfortable in skirts and blouses. I grinned at Stevie. She was wearing her work boots with a sweeping skirt and a tight-fitting blouse. Charlie saw it, and started giggling. Mom rolled her eyes. "Let's go."

We stepped outside into the burning August heat. As we walked, Stevie and Charlie handed me my birthday presents. Charlie got me a small necklace with a bottle filled with barley for the pendant, and Stevie got me a new wallet to replace my raggedy old one. I swapped my stuff and tossed the old one in a garbage can. We got to the center of town, and went to stand with our own ages. I only had 2 more years to last. It was Charlie's last year.

A small, mousy Capitol lady introduced the Games. It was a great honor, blah blah blah, should be proud, blah blah blah, TV sensations, blah blah. Finally she reached into the bowls for the guys, drew one, and read, "Shakespeare Bly!"

He was tall and muscled, with golden curls of hair and muddy green/brown eyes. Shakespeare tried to slip his loose tee back on, but a guy stole it, sniggering. He threw his hands up in defeat and walked onstage, seeming to not notice the Capitol lady gawking at his muscles. I sighed. Always the same. Guys liked to pick on Shakespeare.

She swallowed and picked a girl's name quickly. "Barley Farro!"

I felt myself go completely blank. I heard Charlie and Stevie yelling my name as I swayed unsteadily. The girls around me shoved me into the aisle. I stumbled. A Peacemaker caught me, and dragged me up to the stage. I shoved them away, managing the steps on my own. I caught Shakespeare glancing at me. The mousy lady grinned out at District 9. "Here are your tributes; they will represent District 9 in the annual Hunger Games! Congratulations, Barley and Shakespeare!"

I hated her in that moment. I wished she would go die in a hole. Hell, I wished I could go die in a hole. The mousy Capitol lady introduced our mayor—Isabella Trelawney—who launched into the boring Treaty of Treason. After that, Shakespeare and I shook hands. He looked sort of annoyed at the announcer lady staring at him. I smiled a crooked smile, as if to say, I bet this is normal for you.

He slightly nodded. I turned to face the audience. We launched into the anthem of Panem. As soon as that was over, we were basically taken into custody, minus the handcuffs. Suddenly I found myself in a bare room in the Justice Building where the walls were gray and the floors were gray. There was a single barred window in the door and a single metal bench at the back of the room. There I sat.

My mother rushed into the room, flanked by Charlie and Stevie. It wasn't an easy goodbye. I flung myself at Mom and sobbed openly into her shoulder. When it was over, I hugged Stevie and Charlie. I repeated over and over that they had to take care of themselves. I would be fine.

"Hell, maybe I'll win!" I cheerily added. It seemed to make them happier.

I kissed Mom's cheek and hugged my best friends once more before the Peacemakers came. I reminded them that I loved them both, and I would try my best for them. The door closed and I had no more visitors. Finally I was taken to a car; loaded into the back seat with Shakespeare. We didn't speak. We were taken the train station, and our train was a sleek, snake-like thing that ran about 250 miles per hour.

The mousy Capitol lady quickly reminded us that her name was Kaydee Lennox. Her voice was chirpy and silly, but there was a note of kindness. She guided us to the dining room and I stuffed myself with something other than bread. Of course, there was that, but I slurped up soup with no regard for manners and swallowed chunks of beef whole. Kaydee ate quickly, but with slightly more manners. Her unnaturally pale face looked healthier and more flushed as she quickly ate a portion of fish and pasta, and quickly sipped at a mug of soup. Suddenly our mentor showed up.

She was tall and fair, with bouncy curls in her light blond hair. Her blue eyes showed ruthlessness, and I could see why she had won. A single scar marred her right eyebrow, but that was it. She smiled widely, and shook my hand.

"I'm Quinoa Fields, your mentor," she trilled lightly.

She also shook Shakespeare's hand, not even glancing at his bare chest. Kaydee had made no offer to let him put on one. I saw her gawking as we stood to speak with Quinoa. She told us that she had won the games less than twenty years prior, and it had been surprising. She had acted weak so that everyone would ignore her from pity, and then killed the last four in cold blood. The scar on her eyebrow came from a knife fight with a District 1 boy. I instantly felt like I could learn a lot from Quinoa. She was charismatic and had won the Games easily, from the way she told it. I was instantly forming my strategy.

It was late before Kaydee and Quinoa ushered us to bed. I showered, easily figuring out the complicated shower. I drank water and laid out my outfit, then fell into a plush bed and a deep sleep.

oOoOoOoOoOo

I awoke to dim sunlight filtering through the shades. I rolled out of bed and stumbled to the wardrobe. I threw it open to find everything I could ever need. Still, I pulled on a soft pair of brown pants and a tunic, and a pair of work boots that had been stuffed in a corner. My short blonde hair fell lankly to my shoulders, so I pulled it back in a ponytail and left my room. The smell of breakfast caused me to skid towards the direction of last night's feast. I scooted into a chair besides Shakespeare (he had on a shirt finally), who was shoveling bacon and eggs into his mouth. I did the same and then went to look out the windows. Quinoa walked in without me even realising she was there.

"Good morning, children!" she sang lightly, and took a light seat. After a moment, she had finished her light breakfast of a bagel and peanut butter.

When Shakespeare asked where Kaydee was, Quinoa simply replied, "She was feeling a bit sick."

I could believe that. The girl looked like walking death. Quinoa took a deep breath. "So how would you guys feel about discussing strategies before we get to the Capitol?"

I had no qualms about that, and apparently Shakespeare didn't either. We spent a while talking about interview strategies and game strategies, right up until the train slid to a stop in the Capitol. We exited the train, and Kaydee came off about thirty seconds after us. She looked sick again. I smiled at her, and asked if she was alright. She said she was. The second we left the platform, people swarmed us. They all had cameras and microphones, screaming questions.

"Barley, do you have any comment on—"

"Shakespeare, take your shirt off, honey!"

I ducked into Quinoa's side, hiding my face from the cameras. I heard her laughter rumbling her chest. I didn't look up until there was the whooshing sound of doors sliding closed behind us. We were in a building; the walls were cheery, chirpy yellow and the floors were shaggy carpet. The lavender-eyed lady behind the desk pointed us in the direction of our rooms, quickly tracing ways to get to places we might need to find. I wanted to see my room—see if it was as lavish as the bedroom on the train.

It was more so.

Everything was made of expensive materials I couldn't name. My bed was feather-soft, and the bathroom was more complex than the one on the train. Our rooms were centered around a small foyer room, with a hallway leading back to the main area. After a few minutes of gawking, Kaydee entered, a bunch of oddly-dressed attendants wheeling several carts of food behind her. As soon as they left, the four of us tucked in. We ate sitting on the couches in the foyer. I hadn't had so much food in years; it was so good! I ate the meat like it would vanish.

Halfway through the meal, a graying woman entered and swooped down on us, her voice lilting with the same accent as Kaydee. "Hello, dears! Quinoa! It seems like only yesterday that I was your stylist."

"Hello, Penny. It's lovely to see you again." The two embraced, and then Quinoa introduced us. "This handsome young man is Shakespeare Bly, and this lovely young lady is Barley Farro."

Penny bared her too-white teeth in a cheery smile, and shook our hands. "Good to meet you two. I'm not going to be either of your stylists, but I can say that they're some of the best. Quinoa, show dear Barley to the girls' dressing room. Her stylist will be waiting there for her. I'll show Shakespeare to the boys' dressing room."

We parted ways. Quinoa let me inside, and told me to call if I needed anything. Two men and a woman greeted me. One of the men was moderate height, with flaming red hair. The woman had aqua hair, and eyes to match. The other man was tall and handsome, with dark hair and dark green eyes. The redhead was Rush, the woman was Lancome, and the handsome man was Derek. They were kind, from what I could see. Derek asked me a few simple questions, and seemed to want to get to know me. As we spoke, Rush and Lancome pulled and poked and prodded. Talking to Derek made it a bit more bearable as they spread wax on everything that had hair and pulled it out. Finally he asked the question, "What would you like to wear for the chariot ride, Barley?"

"I had a design…" I mumbled. "I like designing clothes, in my spare time at least. But it'll take forever to make, and it'll never do."

Derek asked where it was, and then pulled it out of my bag when I replied. He grinned, and said he'd see what he could do.

Finally I was baby-smooth and sore—that meant it was time to pull and primp and pamper some more. I was pushed into a bath tub full of not-quite-scalding water. Lancome gently washed my hair as I scrubbed my body with wonderful-smelling soaps. Finally I stepped out and was blown dry by fancy machines. My hair was silky smooth, falling straight and perfect. I slipped a robe on and was immediately whisked to a small desk with a mirror. My stylists worked quickly, chattering about everything under the sun.

I had never had reason to wear makeup before, so I was surprised with how much better I looked. They had spread goo (they called it foundation) on my face, and dusted it with a white powder that turned clear. My face felt baby soft. More goo covered flaws, once again dusted in powder. My eyes were dusted in gray and black, turning the green-gray outside and dark honey insides of the irises darker than they really were. A light pink dusting went over my cheeks, making them rosy. A pale rose paint was spread over my lips, giving them a kissable tint. Then they covered my eyes, saying my dress was a surprise. I stepped blindly into it, and tights were pulled up my legs. My shoes were pulled on.

When I opened my eyes, I was shocked. I didn't move when my blonde hair was pulled into the exact hairstyle I had imagined. I was Malice in Wonderland. I wondered if Shakespeare's stylists knew. Finally I stepped out of the room. Shakespeare looked brilliant, like usual. He was dressed simply, in gold pants and brown boots, and arm braces. Nothing else. His hair was also spiked, which was unusual. I saw his eyes travel up and down me, taking in my dark look. I grinned wickedly. "Whaddya think?"

He grinned right back. "That explains why my stylists were giggling all the time."

So they did know! Apparently, they'd decided to dress him in light colors while I was being dressed darkly. I had to admit—it worked well. We were as polar opposite as the sun and moon, yet it seemed like we had been coordinated for years, not minutes. Penny made a few changes so we looked at our utmost best. She told me to look fierce yet cute, and told Shakespeare to be charming. It wouldn't be hard for either of us. Quinoa and Penny walked with us to the chariots. Ours was gold and black, inscribed with our district seal and drawn by two bay horses. I hopped up carefully, and Shakespeare stood beside me. The chariots went out one by one, and finally it was our turn. The bay horses set off, trotting along happily. The audience paid no attention to us. Suddenly music cut on. I hadn't noticed any music, but I had been too busy being nervous to hear much of anything.

It was a haunting melody, causing the audience to look down and notice us. My faint smile turned to a smirk, and I roared out to the audience. They were taken aback, but began laughing and enjoying it. I smiled and waved, then turned and gave my most frightening expression. And the audience just ate it up. Shakespeare was charming, countering everything with smirks and smiles. Finally it was over, and we were back at the training center. It was late, and I was tired. I wandered into my room, showered, and was asleep before I hit the bed.