A/N: So I was checking the status of this story the other day, and it's really taken off! Thanks SO much to all of you who are reading this! Special shout-out to infinitearms and glitchmob9 who reviewed this story.

"Alright, I think you're ready to meet Watrock now!" the Capitol people chirp.

Good. I've just endured an hour of hair-plucking and having to listen to the comments of these people as they judge me. This Watrock can't possibly be worse than these people. I'm still unsure of why I have to go through this "beauty-treatment", but Chaff insists that it is a necessity to gain sponsors. Well, I know I won't be gaining many sponsors because of my looks. They'll all be looking at my physique.

"So you're Thresh."

I turn and see a woman enter the room. She has deep pink eyes, and a shaven head with curling pink tattoos all over it.

"I'm Watrock, your stylist," she says, holding out her hand.

I shake her hand. I honestly wasn't expecting my stylist to be a woman with a name like "Watrock". It sounded pretty masculine to me.

"Here." She hands me a robe, which I quickly put on. "Sit down, Thresh."

I do as she asks, and she sits next to me.

"So, I take it you know about the opening ceremonies, where all the tributes ride in on chariots, dressed in costumes that reflect their districts."

I nod. District 11 is always dressed in glamorized farmer's outfits. They're terrible.

"So I'm going to dress you in the same costume that I always do."

"A farmer's outfit," I say, wrinkling my nose a little.

Watrock nods, and gives a sigh. She looks tired and worn down, she must not like her job . . . I wonder how long she's been District 11's stylist.

"I know it's not spectacular, but I don't exactly have a lot to work with." She stares off into the distance, lost in thought. "One day, I hope I can design for District 1. I have so many wonderful ideas for them . . . Nobody likes my designs for you District 11 tributes. Well, I'm sorry, but do they realize how hard it is to come up with costumes for a district whose main job is agriculture? They're lucky I don't just dress you as wheat!"

I raise an eyebrow, a bit taken aback at her outburst. She sighs again, and rubs her temples. We sit in silence for a bit, both unsure of what to say.

"Look, I'm going to go get your costume ready for tonight, I'll meet you back here later."

Watrock adjusts the strap of my overalls.

"I look like an idiot," I mumble under my breath.

Watrock gives me a death-glare, but doesn't comment on it. "There, you ready for the chariot ride?"

I give a nod.

"Well don't you look . . . fantastic . . ."

I turn to see Seeder, Chaff, Rue, and Rue's stylist Aelius enter.

"Chaff, don't do that," Seeder says, elbowing the man.

"I didn't say anything negative!" Chaff says with an impish grin, throwing up his hands in defense. "It's just, Thresh doesn't exactly look . . . tough in that outfit . . . Rue pulls it off, though."

I glance over at Rue. It's true. The outfit looks cute on her. It just looks stupid on me. This won't help me gain any sponsors.

"Alright, up you get," Watrock says, motioning to the carriage.

I climb onto the chariot, and Rue steps up beside me. She grips the handrails tightly, causing her knuckles to turn white. I give her a reassuring smile, but I'm not sure if she notices, she looks like she's going to faint.

"Okay, you're off in three . . . two . . . one."

With a sudden jerk the horses start trotting forward. We enter a large arena, packed with those strange Capitol people. They cheer and holler at us and the other tributes us we ride by. I bite my tongue and keep a neutral expression on my face, hiding the disgust I feel.

I look around, and am relieved to see that I'm not the only one in a stupid costume; the tributes from 4 are dressed as fish, and the tributes from 10 are dressed as cowboys. They look even more ridiculous than me.

The crowd starts pointing and cheering excitedly at something behind me. I turn around and notice the tributes from 12 riding in. They're dressed in these strange black costumes, and tendrils of fire are trailing behind them. They look . . . brilliant.

My eyes lock with the girl, Katniss, for a few seconds, before she looks away again. I'm pretty sure everyone in the Capitol knows who she is by now - the other tributes certainly do, and some of them glare at her, while others stare at her in awe. She's already making waves. She's going to be a problem.