Thanks to the folks who added this to their story alerts...still not many reviews though. *le derp*
Luckily enough - for me, at least - the seemingly never-ending crowd of oddly dressed people seemed more excited by Finnick's arrival than the rest of us, which was a great relief in many ways. Everyone knew that Finnick was popular with the female population of Panem, but I never would have guessed how crazed the Capitol citizens went upon his arrival. I kept my head down as the crowd buzzed around us. As far as I was aware, myself and Gavroche would be taken to meet our prep teams and stylists.
Once I had met and briefly spoken with my prep team, the began their work. The experience really put me on edge, though I was aware that it was considered an essential part of preparing for the so called 'Tribute Parade', in which tributes would be dressed in outfits that represented their district; I figured we'd be fish as usual, no doubt. My prep team spent most of their time complaining about the state of my hair, and how they 'couldn't possibly imagine how district people could cope with their natural hair colours'. Safe to say, they weren't impressed, but then again, neither was I.
Fortunately, my stylist was much more understanding. He babbled on for quite some time before he decided to show me what I would be wearing for the Tribute Parade. Originally, I had been dreading this moment; no doubt it would make me look like an absolute fool. Despite my previous beliefs, I had to admit that it wasn't as bad as I had expected, though it certainly did worry me slightly. It was a dress made entirely made of thick, overlapping layers of net, that managed to cover me in the places that it was essential in a toga-like fashion. I could hardly even imagine what my mother's reaction would be when she saw it. As I was her only child, for years on end she had practically wrapped me in cotton wool to keep me from the horrors of the world, which was ultimately in vain since I was expected to kill others in nearly no time at all. Yes, my mother's reaction would definitely be quite a entertaining sight.
My make up was rather simple; it consisted of exaggerated blue eye-shadow that was hilariously impossible to miss and light blusher. It could've been worse. I could've ended up as a fish, which would definitely have been rock bottom.
A good few minutes before the Tribute Parade was due to start, my stylist and I met with my district partner and our mentors. Gavroche was dressed in a similar fashion, which I'm pretty sure was compulsory anyway.
"Well, don't you look cute." I said to Gavroche, nudging him with my elbow jokingly.
"I'd keep my eye on this one, Gav. Seems like Annie's about to go all cougar." Finnick mock-warned him at my expense, which earned him a slap on the back of the head from Mags.
Before I could respond, all tributes were told to take to their chariots. As our stylists made some quick fixes, my mind began freaking out. The voice in the back on my head made everything much worse, by convincing me that the worst would occur. I decided to blame this on my belief in Murphy's Law, like I did most of the time when things had potential flaws - 'Anything that can go wrong, will go wrong.' I vaguely remembered thinking about that at the Reaping, and supposed that it was indeed true. All I could do was plaster on a completely fake smile, and hope for the best.
"Don't trip." Finnick said quickly, half a second the chariots started moving.
The crowd seemed overly excited, considering the fact that they knew as well as I did that in only a matter of weeks all but one of us would be dead. That was their entertainment. Watching people die indescribably painful deaths, when most animals weren't even treated in such a manner. I really did wonder what went on in their heads. Did they realise how badly everyone wanted to win? Were they aware how hopeless most of us were? Didn't they understand how so many children would never get to grow up because of this? Completely absurd.
President Snow's speech seemed to drag on for ages, though I was ninety-nine percent sure that he used relatively the same speech every year. He mentioned the rebellion, and why we were all here - a story I had heard one too many times - and still had the nerve to welcome us. Welcome us to what? Our death? It was almost enraging that he could say such a thing; not that any of the rest of us had a say in the matter.
After the President had finally concluded dragging speech, we were wheeled into a room where all the tribute's stylists and mentors were standing in groups for a moment or two before we were taken to where we would be residing for our short time in the Capitol.
"See, that wasn't too terrible, was it?" Mags asked, though her question was obviously rhetorical.
The apartment was certainly a sight to behold; more original than anything I'd ever seen. Gavroche was the first to claim his room, which he informed us of by shouting that he claimed the best one; I suppose the joke was on him though, since they were all the same. I took a moment to look around the room I had been designated. I could hardly believe what was before my eyes. Even people who lived on the richer side of District 4 didn't have rooms like this. My thoughts were only interrupted by Finnick - again.
"You clean up well, Cresta." He stated, leaning against the doorframe.
"I'll take that as a compliment, Odair." I replied, nodding my head in his direction.
"I'm serious." Finnick responded, moving slightly too close to me. I assumed that he could tell by my body language that his standing so close to me made me feel undeniably uncomfortable, in association with which he continued with:
"What? Do I make you nervous?" He spoke in his usual seductive tone, that really didn't help my plan to keep myself from being attracted to him.
Mags made a perfectly timed interruption, by shouting that if we wanted anything to eat, we'd better hurry up. With that Finnick winked at me before turning to walk our of the door and towards where Gavroche and Mags were already sitting, and I followed closely behind. As we sat down, Gavroche - who had already began shoveling the food into his mouth - wiggled his eyebrows childishly again, which I found more entertaining than any normal person would have.
"Mags, was it just me, or did you see Annie and Finnick holding hands on the train as well?" Gavroche questioned, though it was obviously just to see my reaction.
I could have killed him then and there. Luckily, Mags took it light heartedly and chuckled quietly when it was mentioned, before responding with:
"Holding hands? My goodness, I hope they used protection." A joke which made all of us quite literally laugh out loud. Gavroche seemed to find it the funniest since he was definitely the least mature, understandably of course since he was only 13.
"Now, if you'll all excuse me, I have some Capitol related business to attend to." Finnick concluded, standing up and beginning to leave the room. None of us vocally questioned it, but mentally I couldn't quite figure it out. What was he selling? Girl scout cookies? I wouldn't bother asking, as with some of the prices the victors had to pay, I knew I was probably better off not knowing.
I'm not too sure if I like this chapter or not. I would quite like to know your thoughts of it, like whether it's worthwhile continuing, ways to improve and whatnot. Any chance of a wee review? :)
