"Up, up, up! It's a big, big, big day!" Effie's voice rang in my ears first thing in the morning. I got up, groaning because I didn't get enough sleep. Insomnia. Great, I'll die in the arena because I lack sleep.

I opened the door and saw Effie's smile disappear. Apparently, I don't meet her standards of 'clean'. Effie ordered me to take a bath and change my clothes before I eat breakfast. I gladly oblige. After all, I was still wearing my mother's old clothes from yesterday.

In the bath, I was greeted by confusion. The shower was challenge enough, trying to get it to work properly was just almost impossible. After I get pelted by water of all temperatures possible, I relax for the first time since Katniss was reaped.

My clothes were selected for me. It was an orange blouse with a matching skirt that went above my knees. The hue of orange and fabric were simple and comfortable to wear. I pinned Madge's brooch on my blouse. Truth to be told, I prefer pants to skirts. Skirts merely get in my way. People assume I like to be pretty and all, but I'm an Everdeen, and things like that are trivial.

When I reached the dining car, everyone was already there. I sat next to Effie because I was trying to avoid Peeta, who was wearing a similar outfit to mine. Haymitch was also another person to avoid. I still remembered where his birthmark was. Brr...

Breakfast was very awkward. If you strain your ears hard enough, you can actually hear Haymitch's pounding headache. Effie was trying hard to start a conversation with one of us. But I was in no mood to continue, Peeta was a little busy examining the bread and Haymitch just couldn't stand to listen to a pin dropping, let alone converse.

All attempts to socialize dropped quickly. I was full a minute after and I began to sip my cup of brown liquid. When I asked Effie, she said it was hot chocolate. It was not bad. Tasted rather sweet and bitter.

Effie left us, saying that she had something important to check on. Peeta and I were left with Haymitch, who was immediately drinking again. This peeved me because our lives were left in his hands and he did not utter anything helpful in our case.

"So, is there anything that we must know while competing in the Games?" I asked him, in a vain effort to encourage him to give us advice.

"Yeah, stay alive." He laughed at his own joke.

"Funny," Peeta said before he knocked the glass of alcohol from Haymitch's hands. "Only not to us."

Haymitch took a moment to register this, then punched Peeta in the jaw, knocking him off his seat.

"Peeta!" I shouted. Haymitch reached for the bar, but before he can get close, Peeta got off his feet and restrained Haymitch.

They both struggled, wild punches hitting the air. I know I should do something, but what? Then I remembered a trick my mother taught me. I had no idea if it worked, but it was worth the shot. I got close to Haymitch and struck a few of his nerve centers. The sharp pain took him by surprise and he fell on the floor.

"How did you do that?" Peeta asked. I shrugged.

"Like I said, I'm a healer. I studied the human anatomy."

"Well, well. Did I actually get a pair of fighters this year?" Haymitch was holding his sides with one hand and held himself steady with another. "Stand over there. Both of you."

We followed his command and he examined us. "Well, you're not entirely hopeless. Seem fit. And once the stylists get a hold of you, you'll be attractive enough."

"I'll make a deal with you. If you don't interfere with my drinking, I'll stay sober enough to help you." Said Haymitch. "But you'll have to do everything I say."

"Fine." Peeta said.

"So what's the best course of action? Who can we trus..." Haymitch interrupted me.

"One thing at the time. In a few minutes, we'll be pulling into the station. You'll be put in the hands of your stylists. You're not going to like what they do to you. But no matter what it is, don't resist." Haymitch advised.

"Ok, I guess?" I said.

"Good." Haymitch took two full bottles of wine from the bar and started gulping it down. "Oh and Peeta, let the marks show. They'll think you crossed another tribute before the Games even started." Before we could open our mouths, he left the room.

Peeta and I saw the Capitol from the window after minutes of silence and darkness. They really didn't exaggerate. The Capitol was exotic and colorful, each building unique and sponsored a gay hue of this and that. People started to point at us, no doubt recognizing a tribute train.

I was a little mad at their enthusiasm. But Peeta smiled and waved at the crowd. I followed his lead and gave them the sweetest smile I can fake. You can never know, one of those people might be stupid and rich enough to sponsor us.

When the train pulled in the station, we were out of view of the Capitol's people and my smile evaporated.

"I feel sick now." I said.

"Me too. But hey, one of them could be a potential sponsor and decided to cheer for us." Peeta smiled.

I smile back, but then I let my thoughts go deeper. It's all a ruse, his smile, his jokes. Lies that he spun to knock me off guard, to kill me. He's using me. As this thoughts processed in my head, I began to hate him slowly.

Two can play at that game.

"Ow!" I said as the hair from my legs disappeared. Venia, one of the people in my prep team, apologizes. "This is the last one dear, it's fine now!" I open my eyes and see that I'm completely hair free. "Good thing your not very hairy!"

I was tortured in the Remake Center for an hour now, and still no sign of my stylist. My prep team said that he would be coming shortly now, now that I'm clean.

Flavius, Octavia and Venia surrounded me and looked at me up and down. "Aww, now you're much more darling!"

For some reason, I pretended to be a fragile, humble little girl who admired them for their work in fashion while they worked on me. That was enough to win them over.

"Thank you very much!" I smiled innocently at them and they 'awwed'. Sure they were idiots from the Capitol, but their hard to hate.

They left me right after they said good luck and I was alone in another unaffordable room. I covered myself in a robe and hoped that who ever my stylist was, they won't make me go nude. The tributes from District 12 are always going half naked.

I sit down and fiddle with the pin Madge gave me.

"That's a nice pin." My stylist must be a ghost because I didn't hear anybody.

"Oh! I'm sorry!" I stand up in surprise. I noticed that he was plain and the only weird thing he wore was a golden eyeliner that was almost unnoticeable. His words were not tainted by the Capitol.

"It's okay, sit down please. You must be Primrose, I'm Cinna, your stylist." Cinna took the chair opposite to me.

"Just Prim, please." I say "Are you new? Because I would have remembered you from the last games. You're probably the most normal looking of them all."

He laughs at the last sentence. "Well yes, I am new. And I asked for District 12, I did not 'get stuck with it.' Your District just inspired me, that's all."

I heard the sincerity in his voice, and I was happy that my stylist did not loathe my District.

"So for your costume in the opening ceremonies, Portia, my partner who's the stylist for Peeta, and I decided to dress you up in complementary costumes. You know that, right?" I nodded

"So like the last years." I said. "Naked and covered with coal dust."

"I said I was inspired, didn't I? That has been done to death. Portia and I decided to take a different approach. So we asked ourselves, 'What do we do with coal?'"

"We burn it." I say.

"Exactly. Your pin over there gave me a last minute idea. Just wait for me for one second." Cinna left the room. Ten minutes later he came back, smiling.

"Prim, are you afraid of fire?"