I'm really, really sorry about my lack of writing recently, but school just started and I've been really busy. Anyway, I'm going to try and update 2 stories every weekend. I probably won't do another for this story for some time. Enjoy!

The next day, we arrive at the capitol, and I can now safely say that it is every bit as magnificent as the cameras showed it. I can see the people on the streets pointing at the tribute train. Capitol citizens, eagerly anticipating the death of children that they have never met. I despise them for it, and it's all I can do not to let it show. If I want to get out of here, then I'm going to need sponsors. I do my best to control my face, and manage to put an indifferent and cocky expression in place. Before long, I am placed in the hands of my grotesque, stenciled prep team. Remembering the instructions Seeder gave me a few years back, I pretty much zone out and let them go to work. After about an hour, the prep team leaves, and I sit and wait another half hour before my stylist arrives. A man then walks through the door, covered with multicolored stencils and with gemstones embedded in his forehead. I barely manage to stifle a groan as I make the connection. My stylist is none other than Haderas Kemmp, a man infamous for designing costumes that leave more skin exposed than covered. He says, in a raspy voice, "Stand up and remove your robe." I stifle another groan as I comply. That doesn't bode well. Haderas begins circling me, and it is currently requiring immense self-control not to immediately retrieve the robe. Haderas stops circling and comments, "Not bad physique, and posture is unusually good. That should do well for what I have in mind."

I really don't like the sound of that.

Later, I'm standing next to my chariot in a costume that leaves me feeling very uncomfortable. I mean, can you call it a costume if I'm not wearing a single stitch of clothing? I'm covered in mud and plants, strategically knotted in the groin area. I suppose it could've been worse, I mean, I could've been completely naked. Then Candice walks in, looking very self conscious, and I groan at the irony of my last thought, for Candice's costume is considerably more… revealing. I groan again. Candice narrows her eyes and says, in a dangerous voice, "What?"

I respond, "I just thought of Thresh's reaction when he finds out we got the most perverted stylist in the history of the games."

Candice shudders, "I just hope he doesn't do anything stupid. I really don't want him to end up as an Avox."

I shrug, "As long as no one makes any comments, he won't be charged with manslaughter."

Candice gives a weak chuckle, cut off almost instantly when she notices the looks being thrown her way by District 2's male Tribute. Candice gives him a scathing look. If looks could kill, then a Career would have just died. Surprisingly, a guy with red hair whom I recognize as the Career from 1 walks over and shoves him so hard that he falls over. It actually looked quite comical, and Candice lets out a scathing laugh, which I don't begrudge her, considering what the Career had been staring at. A fist fight looks inevitable, but then the chariots begin to pull forward, and all I can do is hope and pray that I won't be completely stripped of all dignity. Sparing a sideways glance at Candice, I can tell she's thinking the same thing. As the chariots pull into the open, I pretty much zone out and let myself think. The first thing that pops into my mind is the Career from 1, and why he shoved his future ally. By the end of the chariot ride, I've come to two conclusion: 1, the district 1 tribute is not as perverted as the district 2 tribute, and that any break between the Careers is good for all of us.

Thresh was in a truly foul mood. Why you ask? Let's see: he was just forced to watch his brother and girlfriend be nationally exposed, as if they weren't both going to die in about a week. What did they ever due to deserve that? Thresh thought to himself. The worst part was that he didn't know who he wanted to survive made his stomach turn over. As for Rue, he thought with a grim happiness, there are no such conflictions. The fact that Rue considered Lance too old and Lance simply didn't know what he was feeling yet caused him immense amusement. Or at least, it had before Lance was sentenced to death and the truth had failed to come out. And then he sank back into his misery.

Well, what do you think? Did I do it justice? Was the chapter too short? Will Lance die? Are Rue's feeling's obvious ? Do you hate me because you know that she's going to die? Should I shut up now? Review!