Chapter 4:
Parade Marching
Mags found me after breakfast the next morning. We would arrive in the Capitol before the sun rested highest in the sky. She meandered into my chambers, wearing a flowing purple-and-black polka dot top and a knee-length, black pencil skirt with four inch heals. It was always in a mentor's favor to be presentable for the Capitol. Her hands fumbled over the smooth surface of the chest to the right of me before she sat in an arm chair parallel to my position on the bed.
"Gunner, are you nervous?" she spoke after a moment, moving her green irises up to meet mine.
I shrugged slightly at that. What tribute, soon to be introduced to thousands, would not be nervous? "Just a little," I replied as I placed my words carefully. Showing an apprehension to anyone, even mentors, was strictly discouraged. As a Career tribute, I had to prove myself deserving of the title. With a plethora of obstacles to face in my situation, it was worse than walking on glass. It was like walking on a tightrope in a rain shower of broken glass, piles upon piles of it pouring down ahead of me.
"I believe in you, alright? The Capitol is going to love you if you have confidence in yourself. However, if you do not believe with your whole heart that you are going far, then no one in the Capitol is going to believe that or sponsor you either. I know it's hard for you, but you have to do it." The look in her eyes fully described the dreadful torture of being a mentor. Her chartreuse irises stung with the overwhelming sensations of watching so many children die. Yes, being a mentor was a dreadful life. It did not consist of the onerous pain of Career training but rather the lifestyle constantly caused sharp emotional jabs for its participants. On the contrary, anything was better than death, right? This was my internal struggle. Could I handle the life of a victor if I was to survive this Game? I thought to myself. No, I cannot think like that. I am going to see my father again. I will see Jho, Castor... And I will return Eli's necklace. I must.
"Thank you," I nodded to Mags, correcting my posture a tad. A proper Career had to look the part also.
The District 4 mentor glanced down for a moment, a nervous flutter about her eyelashes. Mags was just what everyone called her; her legal name was Magdelena Palmer. At forty-six years old she was happily married, although her spouse never made any public appearances. He preferred to stay out of the spotlight. Only as a citizen of a Career district did the man have the option to do so. When I was younger, the couple visited my father. They were all friends in their youth I suppose. All I remember was an unsettling air, which is perhaps the reason our families lost contact. "Did your father tell you anything?" Mags questions me after mustering the courage and meeting my dark eyes.
"He instructed me to adhere by your advice."
My mentor slowly nodded at this although she was curious to know more. "Did he tell you anything else?"
"Yes... He said that you have the answers," I replied less confident than before. This piece of information baffled me a bit. Why would Mags hold the answers, and to what?
Her chin slid down very haltingly creating the motion of a slow nod. "Interesting. Well, Gunner, just know that you will have it harder than anyone else. You're here for a reason. Your reason has to be to win and no other, alright?" The auburn haired woman educated me further on how I must be the best Career tribute ever.
"I know. I have to come back home to see my family again. My dad and I—we're it for each other."
"Yes, but it's more than that. You must honor your district also; you have to prove that no storm can make us fragile and spineless," Mags said before rising, "Now I have some business to attend to. Do yourself a favor and shower before your prep team meets you." With that the mentor rose and left out the door, but I heard her murmur something to herself when she thought I could not hear her anymore. "If only he knew the first thing about the family tradition," her words formed into a slightly jumbled mess from being so soft. A sigh followed this and her tone was rather blue.
I did not take action on this statement, however I started to feel myself shutter with curiosity inside as to what this could mean.
The electric train pulled into the station a few minutes late, delivering the cargo for sale to the sponsors. I detested being the cargo as I always would but put a game face on and greeted the crowd with brilliance. Pearline and I flashed confident grins at the capturing cameras while demonstrating a perfect poise as Panem's rising stars. Every bit of our forced expedition across the platform gushed with that Career tribute pride. Our mentors considered this walk just as important as the Tribute Parade to be held that night. As such, I allowed my muscles to flex more than normal, only partially covered by a short-sleeved black tee. A jacket laid slack over my forearm while I am sure too many young girls of the Capitol would later swoon over my stance in a pair fitting light-wash jeans. The female of 4 conquered many eyes by way of her high platform heels and open-back dress.
"Gunner, Gunner! Can we have a word on your name being called?"
"Pearline, do you think you may be too young to volunteer?"
"Gun, Pearl! What are you excited the most about?"
The reporters all enthusiastically bounced from question to question. Our mentors instructed us to answer none.
Soon enough we arrived at the Remake Center right outside City Circle where the Opening Ceremonies would happen. My prep team sat waiting for me and pounced as soon as the Peacekeepers escorted me in the door. The petite one with short purple and red hair, all pierced up, introduced herself as Severa. Next, Caesonia offered up her name to be learned. Detached gemstones shimmered above her larger chest, while at the top of her head rested white cat ears. Vessin, the only male, went to work on tampering with my hair.
"Good luck," I advised him, knowing that the bronze fluff was always a tousled mayhem. The style driven male simply shrugged and continued to run his tattooed hands through it. The tattoos starting at his knuckles ran all the way up his arm and across his body, making me feel strangely connected to the rest of him through my hair.
The team showed no mercy when it came to stripping off facial hair and smoothing over the skin of my toned build. They did much more which I do not care to identify. I simply zoned and let them earn their pay. As the team worked they shared a light chatter—the only comforting part of the entire process.
After much pain and unneeded preparations, they finally declared me to be ready for my stylist. The alterations were not as severe as some tributes from outlying districts had to face. My dirty blonde hair somehow kept the shape Vessin gave it it—slicked back and parted in a lighter shade. The women made sure to give my torso that extra touch of shine and somehow whisked away all of the scars decorating it. They expertly matched and then darkened my skin-tone by but a touch in the light makeup applied.
I wore nothing as my stylist—a female called Paree—moved her hands over the sculpted form. Continuously her thick fingers moved up, down, and across my chest and abdominal muscles. After she glided to the back and made the same observations. "Alright," she spoke after finishing a trail down my spine, "This year we are going to stick with the theme of ancient celebrations by turning you into a merman. You are familiar with the term mermaid, correct?"
"Yes, of course," I shot the stylist a grin, although not as confident as previous.
"You are going to be one of those but male," she informed me as if she was stating a speech point to a crowd. There were no conflicts with this set up; there could not be. I did not have a voice in the matter.
She secured the tail around my waist after buffing my torso even more due to its prominence in this costume. I would be without a shirt. The tail was not exactly a skirt but rather it flowed like one. Around my neck my stylist placed a necklace of rope, displaying the complicated knots my district was famous for. Various shark teeth enchanted the piece of jewelry, separating it from the backdrop of my chest. A few silver bands decorated my wrist and more silver pieces hung from the necklace of rope. Paree held a polished, blunt trident in her left hand and leaned on it slightly.
We proceeded out into where the chariots waited, the Tribute Parade about to begin. Pearline wore an embellished shell bra and an alike tail, although hers was a lighter blue than mine and the gems decorating it fell a bit differently. Around her neck, I noticed a piece of my own making. I should have seen this coming; it was just like the Capitol to use my own craft against me. Her hair, braided into an up-do, studded with pearls.
I recognized a few other tributes waiting to board the chariots from when I re-watched the reapings that morning. Libra of District 9 and Holden of District 11 made eye contact as though they already had a secret alliance. Tokala, a buffer guy from District 5 laughed with the female from his district, Evah. This did not seem possible with his strong jaw and strict facial structure. Layce caught my eye the moment she appeared into the waiting area. Her dark hair feel over her shoulder in curls, accenting the crown made of different sized gears like the inter workings of clock. A thin, sheer dress of white flowed over her curves, studded with gears matching those on the crown. Gears and wires continued down her arms, giving her a look of a robot formed in the image of a human. Jebidiah, the male from her district, wore a similar costume but in black and copper instead of white, gold, and silver.
"Gunner? Gunner?" Pearline called my name with different intonations. I was lost in a daze.
I snapped my head back to her, only to see that she already stood upon the chariot. I climbed aboard soon after, Paree fussing with my costume one last time. We rode out into City Circle, right behind the chariot of District 3. The announcers were in a whirlwind by this year's variety of costumes, taking a liking to the merpeople and the tribal hunters of District 9. I smiled for the crowd, as did Pearline.
The monumental size of the Capitol once again blew my mind. It startled me how these people could ever deal with the guilt of living in luxury while most of the rest of us starved. They knew that two weeks from now twenty-three of the twenty-four tributes would be dead. Still, the crowd broke into applause. Perhaps they cheered because they did not understand the concepts of sadness and death. Or perhaps they cheered because they, too, were a part of the Capitol's Game and could only commend our bravery. Many tributes and citizens of the districts believed that all citizens of the Capitol were heartless. Maybe, just maybe, a few of them did see the pain and suffering in our eyes. What was even more daring of me to think was maybe some of them shared it.
President Snow rose when all of the chariots came to a halt in front of the Training Center. The rest of the Capitol crowd rose after him. "Welcome, tributes. I hope you will enjoy your stay here in the Capitol." The crowd broke out in applause. "Last night, I informed you that this year will be quite different, and that you would receive further information upon reaching the Capitol. I congratulate your bravery thus far and wish all of you luck in your upcoming training. It will last four days, each day focusing on different skills. These training days may or may not vary in location. One day will be your Interviews, and the rest will be the Game itself. Again, I wish you luck, and may the odds be ever in your favor!"
The roar of the crowd was the last thing I heard as the chariots entered into the Training Center. The elevator doors trapped me in, suffocating me like the resounding voice of President Snow who condemned the tributes to the Capitol Punishment.
Author's Note: That is all for this chapter. Please comment, tell me what you would like to see, and continue reading! Next chapter will hopefully be up soon. Oh yeah, and what did you guys think of Catching Fire the movie? I haven't been able to see it yet, unfortunately.
Disclaimer: I do not own the Hunger Games or have any rights to the franchise.