Inside the Center, Wyatt and Sarah wait for us with wide smiles and their remote controls. Wyatt flips his switch again to turn off the lights.
"You did wonderfully!" Sarah congratulates. We both jump off of the chariot, into the arms of our stylists. They are so excited.
A girl I recognize as the former Chief Peacekeeper's daughter approaches me. I know her name is Elisabeth and she is 16, but nothing more. Apparently, she represents District 4, by her ridiculous mermaid outfit. The thing is ugly, showing no reason to be a tribute's outfit other than the large amount of cleavage showing. But it is not the repulsive suit that has caught my attention, it is herself. She is a beautiful girl, tall and lean. She has long, flowing brown hair and large green eyes. Her face is slightly rounded, but still slim with high cheek bones and cute dimples to complement her amazing smile.
"You were fantastic!" She shouts gladly. Elisabeth hugs me randomly. I like it, but just stand there in awe of her beauty. I think about why she acts so friendly, and only briefly remember meeting when I was seven years old. "Really, really good," she beams. "You, too," she nods at Asher.
Her escort, a short balding man, runs over and begins tugging her away, speaking quickly about a schedule. "See you!" She calls to me.
"Bye," is all I manage.
Asher laughs loudly, "Come on, James. She was pretty, but you have to do better than that to impress her." I shove him playfully, glad that we are getting along.
In the lobby, many photographers and reporters are waiting to speak with the tributes. Wyatt whispers, "Friends." We get the message and put our arms around each other's neck as a reporter approaches us with Effie. Our escort tells us that the Gamemakers assigned this woman to us, and she seems thrilled that she was given the evening's stars.
"What an amazing performance!" She speaks into a microphone. "What're you thinking right now?"
"We are just so ecstatic that we could entertain our nation and really grateful to our stylists for their fantastic work," I say happily, used to the cameras.
"And I am so happy I can share all of this with James, he's a great guy," Asher adds. I can only assume this is to build up the friendship look we are going for. After all, lovers won last time, so friends might have a good chance.
We talk about our excitement for the Games, how we will miss our families, how much we like the other tributes and our team. Most of it is all fake. Finally, the reporter wraps things up.
"So, just one more question," she says. "Why are you covered in stars? What do those have to do with your team?"
"I can answer that," Wyatt speaks up. I had forgotten he was there. "My partner and I selected these design with the seductive outfit, the famous hair, the star theme, because we want our boys to be just that: stars. The stars of these Hunger Games."
Then he and Sarah rush us away as Effie wishes the reporter a good night, throwing in some final comments. In the elevator, she congratulates us, praising our performance. The same reaction comes from our mentors back in the living room of the apartment. Each one hugs their tribute before congratulating the other for their work. After a few minutes, the team goes to find dinner for me and Asher, leaving us in the room. We walk over to the large wall of windows to look at the parties in the streets. A small flying vehicle, similar to the hovercrafts, that is not too far away, points a camera at us and our faces appear on many screens around the town. The streets get even louder with cheering, and I can tell that the Capitol is on our side. Asher waves and I rub his hair, playing up the playful angle. After smiling a while, we wave one last time and both mouth the word 'goodnight' to the camera.
Very clearly, the people in the parties below yell, "Goodnight!"
Then we step away and an avox presses a button that Effie explains puts up one-way blinds so that nobody can see in. I had not noticed her come back, but all five adults are now near the table, a few food items sitting around the surface. We join them for a light dinner of random stews: pea, apple and squash, meet and potato, and lamb plum. I enjoy a small sampling of each before Katniss sends us to bed.
"What's tomorrow?" I ask Peeta.
"Can't say," he replies. "Just be ready for anything."
I head to my room, followed by Asher. After the door is closed, I ask, "Tired?"
"Not really," he replies.
I hit the red button next to the door labeled 'avox' so that one shows up. I ask him to bring a television to the room. He looks skeptic, but eventually leaves and brings back a small one that he sits on the dresser across from my bed. We thank him.
"I feel really bad for them," I say when the servant is gone.
"I hear the President ordered that they all go to a new hospital in District 4 as soon as the Games are over," Asher says. "She thinks they can get some help there."
We undress from our tuxedos and find some silk pajamas in the drawers. They are smooth to the touch, like hair. That is when I am reminded that my hair is black. We have a good long joke about that before getting into the large bed and watching the TV. The news is covered by our faces and videos of our flight around the parade. We watch our ride in the chariot. We also see our appearance at the window. Soon, we are both asleep.
In the morning, Effie knocks on the door just before six o'clock. "Boy!" She shrills gleefully. "It is time to wake up! Breakfast!"
Asher just rolls over, so I head for the bathroom. I set the water to be very warm and steamy. As I scrub with different washes and shampoos, gold and silver paint wash off of me and down the drain. Unfortunately, I see no black and assume my hair will remain that color. I hear the door to the room open as I scrub the final star from my left hand.
"James?" Comes Asher's groggy voice.
"It's me," I reply. "I'm almost done."
I hear time turn on the sink as I finish up. As I step out, I see he has been washing his face, but still has one silver star that he is scrubbing at. After I dry off and wrap my towel around my waist, he turns, frustrated. "It won't come off!"
"Just shower," I advise. "Maybe some strong soap."
Once he is in, I brush my teeth. Afterward, I look up and notice that my face holds a single gold star on the right cheek. I ask Asher to stick his head out the curtain. When he does, I see that his decoration is in the exact same location.
We dress in sweat pants and tight white t-shirts with tight white sneakers, then head to the table for breakfast. As I close the door behind me, I glance through the window:
Today – President's Tribute Celebration
Final Hunger Games – 12 Days
"Wonderful," Sarah says as we enter the room. "They stayed." I know she must be talking about the stars which is frustrating, but not worth fighting over.
As I eat some bites of cantaloupe, Peeta begins to speak. "Today we start training," he says. In all of the excitement I had forgotten about the Hunger Games and its brutal reality. "The Gamemakers are taking a different approach. There are twelve different stages of training," He continues. "Each day, you will go through two. I'll take you, James, and Katniss will take Asher"
"This is a good chance to see your opponents," Katniss offers. "You'll be with one every step of the way, so figure out their strengths and weaknesses and figure out which ones you need to befriend."
"And you must be back this afternoon to get ready for the President's ball!" Effie shrills. "I absolutely love dances, they are so nice. Perhaps you should each find a date at training," she lets out a small laugh. "You wouldn't want to take each other."
There is little more conversation until we are about to leave for training when the escort in Effie makes her give us one last piece of advice, "I saw your little appearance on camera last night and really thought it was genius. Try to keep acting playful, like a, oh what do the young people call it?"
"A bromance?" Suggests Peeta.
"Exactly!" She said. "They will absolutely eat it up."
On the ride down to the training room, which is in the basement, Katniss tells Asher that they are scheduled at Knives and Swords, so Peeta informs me that we will work with Vegetation. After three hours, we will switch stations.
When the doors open, we enter the training room, an open space with red walls and gray concrete floors. There are several separate stations around the room, and a balcony above. On the balcony, three figures sit in high-backed chairs talking to one another. All of the tributes and their mentors are gathered in a circle at the middle of the room. When we approach, I see that there are chairs for each tribute. Asher and I take the two a large '12' painted on the seat, and our mentors stand behind. Because of their fame, we get a lot of stares, but I recognize that Elizabeth is not staring at them. She stares at me. Today I am more prepared than the night before, so I smile and wave. Her face lights up and she does the same.
"Alright," says a woman loudly as she approaches us, "I am Cresta and I run the training center. Your mentors already have your assignments and it is exactly seven so let's get started."
I spend my entire the next few hours with a girl representing District 1 and our mentors. We work at first with a young man as he shows us the most common inedible and edible plants. After quizzing us a little, our mentors take over. Peeta shows me a green whose juices can draw out burns. Some leaves from a small tree that may help prevent death by poison. There's another plant that is bright purple and covered in thorns. Apparently, it kills infection, but burns like fire.
Eventually, a whistle is blow and we move to knives and swords. Here, I practice with a girl from 2. An old woman gracefully shows us some common stances for defense or offense. Then we do a few mock fights with wooden swords. I am not bad, but she tends to win. Then we learn how to carve certain animals and fish with a knife. When Peeta trains me, he shows how to sharpen the blade with rocks and best carry the weapon. Mostly, we only fight. He is not very good.
At one o'clock, the sessions end. We are fed breads from different districts with cold meats and strange cheeses.
Back in the apartment, we are rushed straight to the salon. I am bathed in strong scented soaps, then a team fixes my hair the same way it was last night by Wyatt. I am surprised that these few steps take nearly four hours. Again, I am given a robe to wear to Wyatt's room where it is taken. Tonight, though, Wyatt is already waiting for me. He smiles and takes a suit from the closet. It is simple with dress shoes, slacks, a button-up shirt, a suit coat, and a tie. The only significant part to this is that it is completely gold.
"Do you like it?" He asks as he helps me put it on.
"It looks great," I reply.
"Not as flashy as last night, but this is going to be a formal affair," he says
"What exactly is happening tonight?" I ask.
"Well, this is just a party for the tributes and government officials. They want you all to meet so you can form alliances and maybe even get a sponsor of two," he informs me.
That is when I remember the advice about a date.
"A date!" I yell randomly. "I forgot to ask Elisabeth!"
Wyatt just laughs. "Oh, the girl from last night? From 4?" I nod. "I'll send her a message," he offers as he finishes tying the tie.
I watch as he types into a lap top perched on his bed.
Quickly, a reply comes.
"You'll be taking her. Doubling with Asher and Elisabeth's partner Emily."
At six thirty, our entire team arrives to meet the District 4 team. Warmly, each person greets each other. Thank goodness for that. All of the stylists and mentors will be going to a documentary meeting tonight, but the escorts will be at the President's party which I have learned will be in her Mansion.
I hug Elisabeth as a sign of greeting, and Asher shakes Emily's hand. She does seem very interested in him. My date wears a blue dress with sea shell patterns sewn into it. Her partner wears an almost identical outfit, but in green. Effie instructs us to join hands. I grab my date's hand with my right, and my partner's with my left. We step outside into a crowd of reporters, city guards, and just citizens that want to see us. I cannot wave, only smile and call out "Thank you!" "Hello!" "You too!"
We get into a black limousine, apparently not going with the other tributes, and begin to drive. We pass the city in a hurry, despite the traffic. I realize that there is a police escort, and will only have a few minutes here. Effie and the other escort, whose name I learn is Barabbas, give us advice. Never touch our hair; it has been designed not to move anyway. Always smile, unless someone brings you tragic news. Be with another tribute at all time, preferably our date. I have next to no time to speak with Elisabeth, so basically do not know her.
Once we arrive at the Mansion, guards quickly take us inside. I see the home, barely changed, and realize just how much I do miss it. The dark carpets, marble walls, fresh smell, beautiful paintings, and elaborate carvings call to me. We are led to the main ball room where several tables sit around a dance floor.
"Please be seated," a servant says, waving toward a table for four.
"Good luck," Effie giggles in my ear, leaving with Barabbas.
I sit at the small, round table with Elisabeth on my left, and Asher on my right. We chat with small talk as other tributes and officials arrive. We complement each other's outfits, discuss training, and speak of the decoration of the room. Mostly, we just try to avoid talking about the Games because it is impossible that we will all live it.
After a few minutes, dinner begins with a salad covered in many fancy fruit dressings. Then we have soup filled with small shrimp and bits of fish. A honey-roasted pheasant is served to each, with mashed potatoes and steamed carrots on the side. For dessert, a cake I do not recognize is served; it tastes of berries and sugar. Then comes the dancing.
As the President's grandson I had been to many balls and danced the waltz many times, but never with a partner as good as Lissie, as she prefers to be called. She dances swiftly, but with a graceful characteristic, as though she is gliding.
"So tell me about you," I suggest in the middle of a very slow song.
She tells me of her life. Her three younger sisters, father actually sentenced to prison, how nobody had visited her to say goodbye. When she begins to talk about her life before the war, tears come rolling.
"Oh, it's okay, Lissie. You don't have to go on," I say quietly.
She lays her head on my shoulder and I watch her curls fall into their original place.
"I'm sorry," she whispers. "I'm so emotional."
"No," I try to sooth here, "I shouldn't have asked that far."
By the time the song ends, the tears are gone and her eyes have nearly returned to normal. We begin to mingle, leaving Asher and Emily on the dance floor. The first person that speaks to us is the girl from District I had worked with earlier in the day. She was very friendly, but Lissie seemed to have something against her, and we soon moved on. Next, we were stopped by a man named Jeremy. He told us he was the Secretary of Finance, and was hoping to sponsor two or three teams.
"Well we would both appreciate your support," I encourage.
"Oh, yes and our partners would be very grateful as well," Elisabeth adds.
He tells us we will be in his mind when he makes a decision and we are pulled aside again. This time, it is Asher and Emily.
"How're you guys liking this?" I ask
"James," Asher says more seriously than I had expected, "We are needed for a minute."
Emily takes Elisabeth by the hand and leads her away. I wave goodbye, then turn on Asher. "What's going on?"
"I need to speak with you," a woman's voice answers my question. President Paylor walks toward me. I am surprised to see her. I realize it is her party, but I have not seen her all night.
I nod and follow her out of the room with Asher by my side. We walk through several corridors and up two flights of stairs to a room that I know too well. The President's Office is open with high ceilings and plush carpets. Upon entering, I feel relieved that Paylor has made several changes to the room, and very few things remind me of my grandfather's reign. She sits behind a large wooden desk, and motions for us to take a seat in large, plush, purple chairs. We do.
"Your stylists tell me that you know of our little plan," she states.
"Yes," Asher speaks, "And we both fully support you, but I really don't think there is a lot we can do."
"That is where you would be wrong," Paylor smiles. "I need tributes like you to watch the mentors and escorts. I have small influences over the Gamemakers, but only you see these people on a daily basis."
"But, madam president, our mentors are completely on your side, and our escort seems to simply want to do her job," I reply. "Surely you have others in mind to help you?"
"Effie Trinket is suspected of activity in the Games Gang, an underground society loyal to President Snow and the former government," she pauses. "And I cannot trust any other tributes. None of their stylists are comfortable with informing them."
This surprises me the most. Effie could never be part of anything like that. And why wouldn't they trust Elisabeth? Even Emily seems honest.
"I am trying my hardest, boys," the president says glumly. "I really am, but my powers are not as extensive as they were for Presidents Snow and Coin. James, if you can, try to get information about Games Gang from Miss Trinket. After all, you are their leader's grandson. Asher, please speak with Miss Everdeen. I believe she is with us, but after the Coin incident, many of my advisors doubt her. Please find her true intentions."
We nod simultaneously.
"In the mean time," she says more lightly, "Keep up the good work. The polls show you two as the Capitol's favorite team."