So here's Chapter 3. I hope you guys enjoy it- we've made it to the Capitol now! :)

As a sidenote, Saturday will probably be the day that I update on from here on out, so don't expect anything for another week...

Anyway, thank you all for reading (and reviewing maybe?). It means a lot to me that you have.


The Capitol is a mysterious place, I decide as I look out the train window. The buildings are so tall and opulent. It looks like they could touch the sky if they wanted to. It all looks so cold though, everything is made of metal here, not the soft stucco from home; the edges are sharp and crisp, not curving. The roads are straight, paved, and lined with cars and people who are bustling about from one place to the other in their over-the-top clothes and their brightly colored wigs.

I can't imagine wearing something like that. Ever. But I know it's coming for me tonight at the Parade. Our stylists will dress us up in extravagant and horrendous fish costumes to represent our district. I wish they were more creative, but I know better. For as long as I can remember we've been fish and this year will be no different.

The train begins to slow down and I grab the wall for support before looking at the other people in the room. Ophelia's pacing back and forth, a slight jump in her step. She's excited, ready to be back in the Capitol. Mags is sitting in the same chair as she was yesterday, her knitting spread out over her lap. I can't tell what she's making. Maybe a blanket. Zayn is looking out the window and waving at someone, probably Capitol people since I can hear them screaming. Finnick though is looking right at me. He's leaned back in one of the chairs, with a cocky smirk on his face before he motions for me to turn back around then mimes frantic waving.

Message received, I think before turning around and doing as instructed.

The people go mad. They're so excited to see us that I'm surprised none of them are foaming at the mouth. Each time I wave their smiles get bigger and when I return the smile a few of them scream and faint.

They're absolute lunatics here.

When the train comes to a stop, I have to take a deep breath. Here we go.

We plunge headfirst through the crowd. Ophelia leads and Finnick and I follow with Mags and Zayn bringing up the rear. We all wave and smile at them, but not for very long since it's a short walk from the train to the Training Center.

Once inside, we're all separated. Finnick, Mags, and Ophelia head off towards some elevators and Zayn and I are led away by our Prep Teams.

Mine consists of two women and one man. All of them are wearing the same white coat over their outrageous outfits. The women are dressed more strangely than the man with colorful feathers coming out of their hair like a bird's. The one with blue feathers says her name is Leto and the one with green feathers and skin says her name is Hera. The man has purple hair that sticks out in all directions and is introduced to me as Gerard.

Leto, Hera, and Gerard soon begin "prepping" me. This means that they shave, wash, pluck, trim, and speculate every inch of my body. I mean every inch too. There's not a part of me that these three don't see and I can't help the blush that seems to permanently mar my cheeks. They don't seem to mind though and the two women prattle on about things going on in the Capitol. Gerard doesn't say anything though, choosing to silently work on trimming my hair and nails.

Finally, after what seems like hours of primping and make-up, they step away from me and smile.

"You look lovely," Hera trills.

Leto nods. "Galatea will be so pleased!"

Gerard has mysteriously disappeared I note and look around for him. After a minute I see his bright purple hair returning with a beautiful, dark skinned woman in navy robes. Hera, Leto, and Gerard bow their heads in her direction before scampering off. I think I hear one of them giggle something about clothes.

The woman smiles at me and tucks a bit of hair behind my ear. "I'm Galatea. I'm your main stylist. I'll be in charge of all the clothes you'll be wearing while you're here in the Capitol." Her voice is deeper and she speaks slowly. She pauses when the Prep Team comes back in with a couple bags and boxes. They're giggling like the twins did when they were small and I smile at them, something's clearly got them excited. When they leave, Galatea looks back at me. "I'm also in charge of them."

I grin. "They're… interesting."

She nods. "They are that. Now, Finnick and I spent some time yesterday discussing your image for the Games. Has he talked to you about it?" When I shake my head no she frowns. "Of course not," she sighs. "Boy loves keeping people in the dark."

"Am I going to be a fish?" I ask, trying hard to hide the disgust in my voice. We're always fish. Always.

Galatea smirks. "Not quite. Finnick's feeling confident this year. He thinks we've got a real shot at winning so he's insisted I change your outfits."

Part of me is hurt because I know he thinks Zayn will be the one to win, but I'm also intrigued and watch closely as Galatea walks over and pulls something out of the bag. It's a mixed blue and green fabric that flares out at the bottom. I furrow my brow. I don't know what it is or how I'm supposed to fit into it.

"Come on. Let's get it on you. It'll all make sense when it's done."

I obediently walk over and step into the fabric, soon realizing it's a skirt. It's skin tight and clings to my lower body until it hits my knees where it flows out in a mass of fabric. Galatea tugs at it some till it settles low on my hips before smiling and walking over to grab something else. Instead of giving me a top, she fastens seashells to my chest before stringing ropes of pearls around my shoulders. In my hair she entangles a few more before placing a small diadem on top of my head. She slips my feet into a pair of heels that match the fabric of the skirt and steps back.

"That's it," she says with a smile. "Now turn around and look."

When I do, I feel the breath leave my body. I look nothing like my normal self. The skirt has transformed my lower body into a fish's tail. The blue and green colors have melded together to look like scales that glisten and shimmer whenever I move. My upper body is scantily clad with only seashells and pearls to cover it, but strangely enough it works and doesn't look as promiscuous as I would have claimed. My hair looks as though it's been dried in seawater with little bits of pearl caught in it and hangs loose around my body to act somewhat like a shield for my modesty. I'm also a little shocked by my make-up. It's simple and clean, not overdone and dramatic like the stylists typically favor and I love it.

I smile as I soak it all in and realize what I represent. I'm a creature of legend. A woman who swims in the seas and rescues lost sailors from a watery grave. I'm a fish with the upper body and ethereal beauty of a goddess. I'm a naiad, a siren, a mermaid.

"Well, what do you think?" Galatea asks, as she comes to stand beside me.

I turn to her, my eyes wide. "I'm a mermaid," I state dumbly.

She nods. "You are. As per Finnick's request."

"I look beautiful," I add, unable to keep my eyes off of the creature in the mirror for very long.

"You do," she says.

"Thank you," I whisper. Words can't express how grateful I am to her. She's given me a decent start in these Games and I won't waste it.

She walks away and I turn to see her leading in the rest of my Prep Team. Hera and Leto squeal and jump up and down in excitement when they see me. They gush compliments and assurances that this alone will win me over all the sponsors in the Capitol. Hera brushes a couple tears from her eyes and turns to look at Gerard who is smiling and nodding his approval. This reaction seems to suit her because next thing I know she and Leto are hugging me and leading me out of the room.

In the hallway it's cold and I feel goosebumps popping up all over me. I wrap my arms around myself in an attempt to stay warm. Gerard places his white coat over me and I smile gratefully up at him. Even if they are a little weird it's obvious that they care.

The hallway is empty but there are noises coming from behind some of the closed doors. I wonder if the other tributes are behind these doors, still getting transformed for our grand debut. I don't get to ponder it long before I get hustled along at a quicker pace and Galatea begins giving me instructions.

I'm supposed to wave and be playful, she tells me. I need to stand tall and smile. If I want to flip my hair or bat my eyelashes flirtatiously at the citizens, I shouldn't suppress the urge. She also mentions that giggling at them is acceptable behavior.

I don't foresee me giggling at them.

When I walk into the stables where the chariots are stored I see Zayn and Finnick talking with the boy from 2 and his mentor, who I'm pretty sure from recaps of previous Games is called Brutus. The two of them are huge and hulking and practically loom over Finnick and Zayn despite how tall they are.

2 is dressed in golden armor like some ancient warrior. It makes him even more intimidating than he was when I watched the Reapings. Now he not only looks like a killer, but his attire names him as one.

This makes me ridiculously and inexplicably nervous and don't want to go join them, but a nudge from behind me and the shooing hands of my Prep Team tell me I shouldn't be, that I'm a District 4 tribute and belong among the other Careers.

I'm about to walk forward when Galatea gives me another push and calls to Finnick.

All four men turn and look at me. Brutus looks for only a moment before turning to glare at Finnick, he clearly thinks something's awry. The boy from 2 lazily looks me up and down, his eyes stopping in all the wrong places and when I fidget to try and cover myself up some more a wicked smirk adorns his face. I quickly look at Zayn who smiles politely and gives me a thumbs up. I notice Finnick smiling as he watches it all happen. The wheels in his head are turning and devising some sort of plan, probably one I won't approve of.

"Very nice, Galatea. You captured my idea wholly," Finnick calls before turning back to his conversation with the other mentor.

Galatea smiles graciously and helps me walk, although it feels more like a wobble, over to the chariot. I feel lightheaded and am thankful for her support in case I trip or faint.

Once I'm securely placed in the chariot, Galatea leaves and Zayn walks over. The boy from 2 watches him go before looking back at me. He's so unnerving. Then he turns and walks over to his chariot where his partner and the kids from 1 are waiting, a pack already formed.

I look over at Zayn and flash him a smile. He's dressed as a pirate with a large, black hat, boots, and overcoat. His shirt is almost all the way unbuttoned, exposing his chest. I want to giggle at how ridiculous it is, but refrain because, despite that, he's still attractive and, more importantly, I don't want him laughing at my attire.

"Are you my jolly sailor bold?" I ask with a teasing tone in my voice.

Zayn grins as he looks at me and I know he recognizes the sea song I was referencing. All kids in 4 grow up hearing the songs belted out by the sailors when they come in at the end of the day. "Alas, I am, my dear. Has your heart been struck by Cupid?" he dramatically cries with a waggle of his eyebrows as he jumps onto the chariot and pulls me into his arms.

I laugh and shake my head.

"You look lovely," he says, releasing me. "Exactly like I always imagined a mermaid would."

"Thank you," Finnick says, jumping up on the chariot with us before casually leaning up against the edge. "I've always found that the word lovely describes me best, although the mermaid comparison is new." He grins and Zayn and I roll our eyes. "You're in, Zayn. Just like we planned. Do well in training tomorrow and you may even hold rank above the District 1 girl."

Zayn's chest puffs out slightly. He's clearly pleased with this news. "Congratulations," I say and I genuinely mean it. If this means Zayn will be safe and protected then I'm all for it because no matter how badly I want to get home, I want him to make it as well. We've bonded over the last day and the thought of him dead makes me feel ill.

I hear Finnick clicking his tongue and turn to look at him, thoroughly confused. What was wrong with Zayn becoming a Career? It's what we usually do. Finnick himself had done it ten years ago.

"Congratulations," he says, "are in order for you too, cupcake. Cato can't keep his eyes off of you."

My brow furrows. Who's Cato? I glance around the room, but the only eyes I see on me are 2's. Why would Finnick want me to catch his eye? He's just another tribute, not some sponsor who can give me gifts and save me. Unless… and it clicks. The boy from 2 is meant to be my ticket to the end in Finnick's version of the Games. That's why I'm standing here half-naked.

"No," I say, my voice steely. "No. He's a monster, Finnick."

Finnick smirks. "Monsters survive in these games, cupcake. Best to win the worst of them over early on."

I shake my head. There's no way I'm going to go along with this. If I win or die it's going to be of my own merit. Not because some hulking man saved me in exchange for sex. I look over at the boy again. As attractive as he is, he's still a savage who was raised and trained to thrive on killing others. He isn't human and I refuse to sell my soul for a couple more days or a less painful death.

As if he sensing my staring, Cato turns and looks at me. I watch as he slides his arm around the girl from 1 and turns away from me. Looks like Finnick's plan is a flop before it's even really begun.

"It's tiiime!" Galatea calls as she marches towards us. "Finnickin, away. Nicaea, stand up straight and tall, love, like we talked about. Remember to smile." The chariot starts to move forward and Galatea keeps pace with it as she continues to bark out orders. "Wave and act gracious. You're glad to be here and take part in the Games. You're proud to represent your district. But don't forget to be playful! Zayn, dear, you know what to do. I know Helena discussed it with you."

I look nervously at Zayn. Now's the time. We're about to enter the stage for the first act of the play. I hope with everything in me that we're good enough.

Zayn's face is worried and he sucks on his bottom lip as he looks out of the stables at the crowds. They're deafening and more than a little intimidating. Their screams are echoing off of the concrete walls and I want to cover my ears so badly, but I don't. I lean forward and wrap my arms around Zayn, my comrade and partner in this, and smile at him.

"Let's do this."

He grins down at me and holds me tight for a moment. I feel safe and protected for the first time since my name's been drawn. This hug has given me confidence. We can do this.

As we part, the chariot rolls forward and Zayn and I smile with everything we've got as the Capitol citizens scream their welcomes. I hear our names, the previous tributes names, and district numbers being chanted among the clamor.

I feel Zayn's arm slide around my waist and I look at him with questioning eyes although I'm very careful not to let my smile slide off my face. It's impossible to tell what he's trying to communicate, but I assume this is part of our mentor's rouse so I go along with it and wrap an arm around him before turning and waving at the crazed people all around me.


As soon as the chariot is safely stopped back in the stables, I leap down and kick off the high heels Galatea had me put in. Even though I didn't do much walking, my feet are extremely sore and I'd be willing to do anything for a foot massage and a hot shower.

I groan when my feet touch the cool, marble floor. That alone feels heavenly. I close my eyes and luxuriate in the moment before Zayn tugs on my hand.

"Come on, let's find Finnick and Mags."

I can't see anyone I recognize amid the sea of tributes, stylists, and mentors that are crowded around, but Zayn seems to know where he's going so I mindlessly follow.

When we reach them, Ophelia's blabbering as quickly as she can about how wonderful/spectacular/amazing/beautiful we were. Mags smiles at us and pulls us in for a hug, telling us that we did very well. Finnick has a wicked grin etched on his face as he looks over our shoulders.

My eyes follow his to see the boy from 2 is staring and he doesn't look very happy. His eyes are narrowed and his fists are clenched as tightly as his jaw as he whispers something to his mentor. Zayn follows my stare and glares, tightening the grip on my hand.

"Let's go upstairs," Mags suggests.

I turn and nod. I want away from that hate-filled look I'm getting and the only place away from that is upstairs where I assume our rooms are.

We follow Mags in a line over to the elevators and clamber inside. Just before the doors close and whisk us away, I chance a glance over in the direction of Cato to see him still watching me, his eyes full of loathing.