A Dangerous Game
Chapter Two: Prisoners in Luxury
Sue abandoned them as soon as they were off the train, saying something about having to tell the designers that there was a "change of plans".
"What was that all about?" Kurt asked Schue worriedly.
The man shrugged, "I wish I knew."
Kurt and Rachel were then hurried off to be 'made over'. Kurt's ego was slightly flattered by the fact that there was very little they had to do to him, while Rachel had to be given a full body wax, hair cut, and manicure. There were three ditsy make-over specialists who fluttered around Kurt, trying to find something to do. He prided himself in keeping his body well maintained and his hair continuously perfect. Needless to say he was allowed to leave long before Rachel was. "Take him to Emma," one of the specialists, a skinny man with hair that stuck up like a tree growing from his head, waved Kurt in the direction of another room.
Emma, as it turned out, was his stylist. With bright red hair and large brown eyes, she was the one in charge of making his outfit for the Tribute's Parade, which would take place that evening.
"Oh, hello!" she said, "you must be Kurt." She shook his hand then promptly wiped her hands on a towel. She noticed his slight offence to this, "Oh, please don't take it personally." She then explained, "Germs."
"Right," Kurt said slowly. "So what am I wearing for the parade?" he asked eagerly.
Emma beamed, "Well I had something all planned out but your mentor came up with a wonderful idea."
Kurt now understood why Sue had mysteriously disappeared. "And what would that be?"
Emma showed him the new plans, "It's almost finished."
"A doll!" Kurt exclaimed. The outfit they had devised looked like a cross between a gigantic porcelain doll and how his mother used to describ the prince in the fairy tales she used to tell him. "Isn't the point of the Parade to show the sponsors that we might actually win, not that we'll break apart at any second?"
"You'll be different," Emma said, "and that can be more important than anything else. And as for Rachel…"
"She's so short she'll look like a doll come to life," Kurt muttered.
"I was going to say that my assistants and I can use make up to give her a complexion like yours, but alright. We're going to use a great amount of fabric, that's what your District makes, right? District Eight: Textiles?"
Kurt nodded.
As it turned out, his costume wasn't all that bad. It was made of light blue fabric, but so shiny it almost looked silver. Pointed pads adorned Kurt's shoulders and the top half of his costume turned into a cross between a skirt and the tail of a jacket. Tights covered his legs and sequined, high-heeled boots made him stand at almost six and a half feet. He had gloves on his hands, the fabric of which matched the rest of his costume. The look was completed by a powdered wig.
Although, he had to admit he was somewhat jealous of Rachel's costume; she looked awesome. She was wearing a black, with a white decoration that was shaped like a pointed, slightly warped hourglass. She had on glasses, which hid her eyes entirely from view although she assured him that she could see perfectly clearly. She had on long black gloves. On her feet were a pair of insanely high heels, which she was told were impossible to trip in (although she remained skeptical of this), so as to not look too small compared to Kurt.
All the tributes were in outfits befitting their District. The District One tributes were dressed as if they were going to a dance; Puck wearing a full tux, Sugar in a long ball gown.
The two siblings from District Three, Blaine and Chelsea, had miniscule light bulbs and gears covering them, their faces painted grey and black. District Three specialized in technology, and both tributes looked like robots.
Suddenly Kurt found himself being shoved to the ground. It was David Karofsky, dressed all in black, a fishing net strewn over his shoulders like a cape, as he was from the fishing District. He sneered at Kurt and muttered something rude before going over to his own chariot. Rachel helped Kurt up, "Are you okay? I'll go tell someone; that has to be against the rules."
"Don't," Kurt grumbled, dusting himself off. "I'm fine really, going and reporting them will just make me a target when we get in the arena."
"Are you two ready?" Sue barked, strolling over to them.
Kurt turned his head to one side, "Well, hello. Long time, no see."
"Quiet, Porcelain," she warned, "Or I might just have you shot out of a cannon for the parade like I had planned."
Kurt paled, more than normal that is, and kept his mouth shut.
He and Rachel got up onto their chariot. The white horses were so well trained that they did not move until a signal was given. Kurt was so nervous, shaking, he grabbed onto the side of the chariot to stop from falling off.
"Oh no you don't," Sue snapped, "figure out how to balance. You think this hard? Try being in an arena with twenty-three bitter enemies. That's hard. This is the easy part Hummel!" Sue's shouting was drawing the attention from the other tributes and their mentors.
Kurt gulped, promptly standing up straight. Without much warning the parade began and the chariot lurched. Kurt swayed slightly and he and Rachel grabbed onto each other's arms to steady themselves. They let go but stood shoulder to shoulder, or shoulder to head as Rachel was much shorter than he.
All of a sudden they were surrounded by screaming, cheering crowds. Kurt blinked as spotlights all but blinded him. He started to wave at what he hoped were the Capitol's citizens, plastering a smile on his face. Rachel was having a much better time, grinning at a crowd like a professional. She had always wanted fame; Kurt wanted the same thing, but not like this. Not for being a tribute.
Kurt and Rachel were taken to the eighth floor of the Training Center after the parade. The huge skyscraper overlooked the entire city and the view was fantastic. The sky was so dark and so clear that Kurt could see all the stars in the sky easily.
"You guys did great," Mr. Schue said cheerily.
"Thanks," Kurt said happily; he was still wearing his costume, although Rachel had changed out of hers. He was wondering how long he would get away with wearing it.
Rachel's eyes widened when she saw the table laden with food. It was a banquet; more than had even been on the train. "Are the other tributes joining us," she asked in awe.
Schue laughed, "Um… no. Try the steak, it's really good."
"Oh no," Rachel said, "I'm a vegan."
"Not any more princess," Sue had just entered their apartment, "if you want to survive the Games you'll have to hunt; rabbits, deer, fish. Whatever you can get."
"But killing animals is mur…" Rachel stopped what she had been about to say, sitting down at the table. "Never mind," she muttered.
Kurt sat down next to her, handing her a bread roll.
"Thanks," she whispered, taking a bite.
Sue sat down across from them, ignoring the food, "Have you two decided if you want to train together or not? And do you want to ally in the Games?"
Kurt looked to Rachel. She opened her mouth to say something, and then sighed "No… I mean… I'm sorry Kurt. I want to train with you, but I don't think I could ally with anyone. Knowing that only one of us could even possibly…" she trailed off.
Kurt nodded, although it hurt to admit, he couldn't stand being her ally either. It would be bad enough seeing her face in the sky, but if he were to actually witness her death; that would be horrible. He knew she felt the same. Only one of them could survive and both were entirely too aware of that painful fact. "I agree. But I do want to train together."
"Alright then," Sue leaned back in her chair, "tomorrow morning there is a group training session with the other tributes. Look out for what they are good at and what their weaknesses are. If you two have any hidden talents, keep 'em secret. You defiantly have kept them well hidden from me."
Kurt clears his throat, "Well, I… um…" he blushed, "I have one thing I can do, but I don't think it will be much help."
Sue looks vaguely interested, "Tell me."
"Well, I… just watch." Kurt picked up his knife and fork and started twirling them around his fingers like batons. Schue's eyes widened and he ducked under the table, with just enough curiosity to peek out at what the boy was doing. Rachel backed up, moving out of the way, but Sue stayed where she was sitting, watching passively. Kurt twirled the two utensils around his head, flipping them over and over. For the first time since being chosen, he smiled genuinely. Then with a flick of each wrist he sent the fork into the steak on Sue's plate and the knife into the table. He didn't mention that he had actually been aiming for the wall to his left.
Sue glanced down at the knife that was sticking into the table, then said "That is mahogany."