It turns out that Leonel was given official instructions on how to prepare us for the Capitol. After showing us around the train, which is probably the most luxurious thing I've ever seen, Leonel sits us down in the dining car. Derick takes it upon himself to try every dish that's been laid out for us. I have to admit, the food looks and smells so good I'm tempted to copy him.
Instead, I turn to Leonel, who pulls out some thick papers that bear the Capitol's crest. "Okay, we don't have any actual plans for the train. Just enjoy yourselves in the time you have. There are clothes in your rooms," He explains, scanning the paper with a look of consternation on his face. "It says once you get to the Capitol, I'm to escort you to a re-make center. Wonder why…"
As he ponders this I pick up a piece of soft bread. There are jars upon jars of different jellies and other spreads on the table, but I don't have time to look at them all. I go with the old standby raspberry (bushes grow all over district four), and tune back in to Leonel.
"I guess they want to make you look good for the cameras." He's not even looking at us, so he doesn't see the hurt look on my face. Derick just continues plowing through the food, and likely hasn't heard one word. "You each get your own stylist, too! That is so exciting. They'll dress you for the opening ceremony, where you get to ride by the President. The stylists have been instructed to dress you to reflect your district…" He's off and babbling about how he thinks our outfits should look for the show.
Outside the windows, I can see the coast flashing by. I haven't actually been through that much of four, mainly because it's uncommon to leave your city. "Is this all district 4?" I ask Leonel as I cross to look out the windows.
"Yes, it is," He gets up and joins me. "It's one of the larger districts in Panem. It's the one most Capitol officials want to be sent to because of the view. The area used to be called Mexico, and it had a very large number of resorts." I just nod, and then ask him to keep explaining about the Capitol procedure.
"Yes, yes, of course," he says, grabbing the letter again. "After the opening ceremony, you get a week of special training sessions with experts, and at the end of the week, you make a presentation to the game makers." Both Derick and I are confused by the term, so Leonel explains. "The Gamemakers do like what the title suggests. They're the ones planning the arena, and I understand many of them were on the panel that created the games."
That means that they're my enemy, the reason I'm on this train. The reason I'm speeding away from the only life I've known. Leonel shuffles the papers again.
"The gamemakers will give you a score, from 1 to 12, which may determine how many sponsors you get. You need to remember how important sponsors are. Okay, scores are televised live, and the day after, you do an interview with only the most famous man in the Capitol—other than President Rivera, I mean." I look at Derick in confusion. We rarely watch television in district four, so we have no idea who Leonel is so excited about. "Haven't you seen Saamir Flickerman on television?" Leonel looks put out for a second then waves it away. "Oh well, you'll just love him. After the interview, you return to your rooms for the night, then on to the arena!"
I am purely disgusted at how excited he sounds. "Don't you realize 23 living, breathing, thinking human beings are going to die?" I'm shaking with rage. Derick looks up at me, shocked. In town, I can be pretty meek, but I have real reason for my explosion. My bedroom's three cars away, which is the best I can hope for on a moving vehicle.
Once in there, I collapse on the bed and allow myself to sob into the soft pillows. It's been a long time since I had a good cry, and today was just a huge buildup to the outburst. Leonel probably does just think of it as a game- there's a reason they're being marketed as the Hunger Games. After letting myself cry for a good 20 minutes, I let myself out of my room to find Derick and Leonel in the television car.
Leonel looks up and sees me standing in the doorway, and waves me over. I begin to apologize, but he stops me. "It's okay, really. I wasn't paying attention to the fact that you're really humans." Well, it's close to civility, so I let it slide. "We're just about to watch a replay of the reapings, so you can size up your competition."
I sit on Leonel's right side, so I can avoid Derick. After the seal of Panem disappears from the screen, a man dressed all in red comes on screen. I assume he's Saamir Flickerman because of the way the crowd cheers his name. Or maybe people in the Capitol cheer for everything. His mouth is moving, but I hear no words.
"Ugh, those camera crews. They probably forgot to connect his microphone again. Oh well," Leonel sighs. "At least we don't need to hear his commentary on the reapings." The reapings go in order, starting from one. The girl is simply beautiful, with bright red hair, blue eyes and a petite frame. Her name, comically enough, is Scarlett. Her male counterpart is around the same size as her, and will likely be one of the youngest competitors at the age of thirteen. His name's Micah something.
I always had suspicions about two, but now all the rumors are confirmed. The girl is pretty plain looking, but it's her name that matters—Rivera. Everyone always said that people from district two wish they were from the Capitol, and now I know it's true. I don't think your name is much of a defense in the arena though. The boy from two is really muscled, probably a very good competitor for Derick. I look over at Derick, but he doesn't even raise an eyebrow. He actually looks bored.
Once he sees the kids from district three, Derick bursts out laughing. Both of them wear glasses, and the girl is a bit hunched over. My father called it a scholar's hunch, because it develops after years of leaning over books.
"I wouldn't count them out just because they look funny now. The Capitol prep teams can do a lot of work on a person." Leonel says, throwing a glance Derick's way. "Besides, glasses are hot right now. They might give you a pair." Derick just shrugs and watches our reaping. I can't help but wonder what was going through his mind when he was called after his sister.
I take note of only a few more tributes- a disturbed looking boy from 7 named Zane, who already has a full beard at the age of 14; A haughty girl from 9 called Delphia, who betrays no fear; and sadly, a twelve year old boy named Basil Wick, who has to be ripped from his parents arms. Some of the kids are menacing, but I don't think I could ever try and hurt a kid like Basil or Micah.
After the replay of the reapings, we all go to our rooms for a little while before dinner. In my drawers, I find beautiful clothing in colors and materials I've never owned. There's a dress the same color as Georgianna's from the reaping. I slip it on, and twirl in the mirror. Back in four, everyone wears dark colors because everyone guts the fish, and the blood shows less prominently on a dark background.
Everything in this world seems to glitter, from the clothing the paint on the walls. Leonel tells me at dinner that it's a special type of paint made in district one which has broken mirrors mixed in.
For dinner there's twice as much as food as there was for lunch. It could feed my family for a month with this one meal. Judging my how fast Derick's consuming as much as he can, it wouldn't last half that long at the Arlyn's house.
Leonel talks all dinner long about how lucky we are to get our own stylist. Apparently, only the very upper class people in the Capitol have a personal stylist, and he's wanted one since he was young. I could care less. Since I've seen the competitors from all the districts, I'm convinced I only have a few weeks left, so what's the point of a stylist?
The next day I spend staring out the window, watching all the districts go by. The train doesn't actually enter any of them, but I can see that many districts were ravaged by bombs as badly as four. The thirty foot high fence around district 11 seems to go on for hours, and maybe it does. Leonel leaves me alone, occasionally passing through the train car I've claimed. Derick doesn't even wake up until one in the afternoon.
He comes out to my train car, and sits next to me on the window seat. We've never been this close to each other without his sister. He smells terrible. We're silent for ten minutes, mostly because I pretend he's not really there. Then he speaks.
"You know how easy it would be for me to throw you off the train, right now?" He's looking at me, eyes narrowed under his heavy brows.
"Yup," I say and turn to look out the window again. "You won't though."
He raises an eyebrow. "Why won't I?"A challenge.
"Number one, it's against the rules. Number two, you want an audience when you kill me," it's a whisper but he hears, and stares blankly at me for a little while, then shrugs.
"I guess. I'm hungry." He gets up and wanders off to the dining room. At least he warned me. There won't be any mercy on his part, and I might well be enemy number one in the arena. I won't be going down without a fight though.
Around noon the next day, we enter the tunnels. They go straight through the mountains which surround the Capitol. Leonel finds me and Derick and goes over our itinerary one last time, and reminds us to be on our best behavior. "There's camera's everywhere, so make sure to seem charming. Try and please potential sponsors."
I nod once, and then watch the Capitol come into view. It's dazzling. I don't think that any bombs touched here, and I can't see any signs of ground fighting. Where do they keep all the weapons of mass destruction?
The train station, also called the welcome center, is swarming with people in eccentric clothing. They throw themselves at the train as it comes to a full stop, screaming for us. Once we get off the train, a swarm of peacekeepers encircles us, but a few Capitol citizens still break through. One woman has a piece of paper and a pen that she shoves at me.
"Can I get your autograph?" She screams over the din. I sign my name quickly as she turns to a friend and says, "the price will go up so much when they die!" A peacekeeper gently pushes her away, and gets us to waiting cars. Honestly, I can't wait to get into the arena and out of the Capitol. It has to be an improvement.
We get dropped off at a large building in the city, and are led inside by more peacekeepers. Then I find out what Leonel meant by "remake".
Inside my solitary room, I'm introduced to three strange creatures. They're brothers, I think, and triplets. The only thing that distinguishes them from the others is hair color. They're handsome, and their hair hangs in soft straight sheets down to their shoulders. Harlan has soft violet-grey hair, Horatio has kelly green locks, and Hubert has ice blue hair.
They hover over me for at least two hours, snipping locks of hair, painting my nails, and remarking on my skin. "It's so soft!" Horatio will say, then ask me how I treat it. The thing is, I don't. I'm at the docks all day usually.
"Must be the salt water," Hubert exclaims, petting my face. "Natural remedies are very big right now." Harlan does my makeup. In blue and green tones, then call for my stylist. In walks a man even more eccentric than the tributes. Long, sharp, stick-on nails adorn his every finger, and he has false lashes on that can brush his forehead. I shudder to think what outfit he has planned for me.
"Hello darling!" he exclaims, and rushes over to me. "I'm Antone, and I have created the best costume for the opening ceremonies! You're so thin you'll probably fit, too!" I'm thin because I don't eat due to the fact the Capitol cut off our food supply for three months, but I won't say anything. "Darling, you're going to be a mermaid!"
Dear lord.
I'm mortified as I climb into me chariot along with Derick. We have matching outfit, his sans the shell bra. The tails are made of net and real fish scales, and nets are draped artfully around us and the chariot. The last thing I want to do is ride out in front of the entire nation right now. Looking around at the other tributes, though, I see weird is the norm.
District two's tributes are entirely covered in jewels, so much that you can't tell who's male and female. The poor kids from district 12 are smeared with coal dust. I hope there are no open flames out there.
"I'm going to push you off the chariot," Derick growls in my ear as we line up in descending order from district one.
"Sure," I snarl back. Honestly, he's moving up on my hit list, as if he weren't already number one on it. Antone and Derick's stylist, Florence, come over to make final adjustments on our outfit, and make snarky comments about the other tribute's costumes. Once they're done, we're sent out into city central.
Light flashes from all sides as photographers try and get the best photos of tributes. Thousands roar as we roll by on our chariots, each person cheering on a different tribute. I thought we all looked ridiculous, but the crowd loves it. District 10, dressed as a bull and a cow, get huge applause.
The ride to the President's mansion seems to take forever. Finally, we pull up alongside the "dorks", as Derick calls them, from district three, and see the President watching the procession from a balcony. Rivera looks as though he's finally gotten some sleep in the past month. Once the last chariot has pulled up in front of the mansion, Rivera begins his speech.
"Good evening!" He has a smile plastered on his face so wide I think his cheeks will tear. "Welcome to all of you in city center with me tonight, and hello to everyone in the districts, who are watching on live television!
"In one week, you will see these tributes arrive in the arena! It's being kept under wraps, but I've been given some information, and I must tell you, this will be a very exciting few weeks. Tributes, I hope you make the most of your time in the Capitol, and I will see one of you at the end of the Games. Happy Hunger Games!" He roars to the crowd now, then adds in afterthought, "May the odds be ever in you favor, tributes." Then he waves to the crowds, and goes back inside his home.
I can hear people repeating his last line to each other, and wonder how long people will be repeating it. It can't last that long—it actually sounds stupid. The chariots take us to a tall building that looks as though it's made entirely out of glass. The training center.
Leonel, Florence, and Antone wait for us in the lobby, along with the other stylists. They look pretty put out. "District three's stylist used sequins. They looked just like you," Florence pouts.
"They had tails?" I ask, turning to look at them. They're dressed as circuit boards, square and glimmering, but no tail in sight. Antone shakes his head.
"It's not that," he says. "I wish stylists could just be original for once." Florence nods in agreement, then they lead us over to glossy elevators set against the far wall. We're on the fourth floor (which is really the fifth), in reference to district four.
I had thought that the train was luxurious, but it pales in comparison to our apartment. A crystal chandelier hangs from the center of the great room's ceiling, casting weird, beautiful shadows on the walls. There's a giant television hanging on one wall, lightly glowing like the one at home.
Home. Thinking about it reminds me that I have one week here until I enter what I expect to be a nightmare. I want to go cry again.
"Leonel?" I turn to him. "Can I just take any room?"
"Don't you want to watch the replay of the opening ceremony?" He asks, confused. I shake my head, and he points to a hallway I hadn't noticed before. "I think your room is the last one on the left. Just check the clothing. If its boy's clothing, that's Derick's room and yours is just across the hall." I give him a nod
The room on the left has girl's clothing, so it must be mine. The view of the Capitol is spectacular, but I notice that the stars aren't visible here. Light from the city makes the sky glow a soft purple at night. Without the stars and sound of waves hitting shore I won't be able to sleep here. The fact that I can't stop thinking about how I'm going to die soon puts a damper on the sleeping thing too.
I turn and flop down on my bed, which is covered in at least a foot of furs and blankets and hear a sloshing noise.
Great. A water bed.