I'm making this chapter a bit shorter so I can leave it on a cliff-hanger, but the next chapter will be longer again so I can get to the Games. PLEASE KEEP REVIEWING, it makes me really happy to see them. Thank you to my regulars who read every time I update, I love you. Remember, enjoy, follow, favourite
Katniss' POV
"Isn't this simply wonderful?!" squeals Effie in delight. We're standing in our apartment in the Training Centre. It's around 3pm, and we've been brought back for a snack before we're prepared for the chariot rides. All this morning, from the minute we arrived, I've been washed, scrubbed, dried and had countless other cosmetic procedures carried out on me. Although I feel clean with my soft, fragrant hair and pink, glowing skin, it somehow doesn't feel right. I'm used to the grime of District 12.
"Well, I'll leave you two to explore," Effie tells us, and she scurries off with Haymitch. As we were the last district to arrive we were thrown straight into preparations, and I'm tired. I just want to sleep.
I sit down and the wooden table and look at the food that's been laid out. It all looks so good. Effie comes bustling back in.
"Change of plan. Your stylists want you know," she chirps. I sigh, and put down the bread roll I wanted to bite. I trail after Jackson and the others back to the elevator that will whizz us back down the ground floor. I'm led into a small room labelled "Tribute Prep G12". I assume this identifies me as the girl from District 12.
My stylist, a young man called Cinna, had made this little room his own. I guess it's kind of like his office. Designs are spread out all over the floor, some of them brought to life hanging on racks around the room. A full length mirror stands in one corner, a dressing table next to it.
"Sorry for bringing you down early," Cinna says from behind me. "This is going to take a little more prep than we thought."
He's very friendly and gentle as he dresses me in a tight black suit. As he goes, he tells me how he's going to set my suit alight with artificial flames so I look like a piece of burning coal, representing us being the coal mining district. When he's dressed me, he braids my hair and adds smoky tones of black to my eyes. I look quite good. Cinna tells me to sit for a while, and he returns after about half an hour. He tells me to follow him. I walk behind him down the corridor, seeing lots of other tributes leave their prep rooms with their stylists. After a short walk we arrive in a large warehouse where 12 magnificent chariots are waiting. I spot Jackson with his stylist Portia waiting by the carriage. It's the first time I've seen the other tributes in real life. The Careers look stereotypically terrifying, and I notice a few other strong looking tributes dotted around. I'm just stroking one of the big brown houses that are going to pull our chariots when I hear a cheerful voice behind me.
"Hello!" it says.
Finnick's POV
I wake in the morning to find my room full of people. Pearl and Toria are talking to an unfamiliar man and woman, two Capitol servants are stood next to my bed and Violet is sat in the corner looking awkward.
"What's going on?" I ask. Pearl turns to look at me.
"Oh, Finnick! You're awake! Come on, get up quickly now. We have a busy day ahead of us!" I pull myself out of bed, and notice Pearl, Toria, the unfamiliar woman and Violet's faces change and their eyes widen. I realise I'm shirtless.
"Maybe you should get dressed," Pearl squeaks, suddenly seeming a bit breathless.
"Or not," whispers Toria as they leave. I roll my eyes.
And I'm alone. I dress quickly and get washed. By the time I reach breakfast it's gone 11am and I hear that the last of the tributes have just arrived. After breakfast I'm taken down in the elevator to a large, spacious room. It's painted in a clinical white, and the room is full of drawers and cabinets. In the middle is a large chair with a table covered with medical instruments next to it. I'm told to sit, and three people dressed in surgeons outfits descend on me. One of them is instructed to undress me, and from the way they go about it, I guess she's female.
The next few hours consist of these three people flitting around me, washing and cutting my hair, giving me a bath (twice), waxing my legs and chest, treating my skin with chemicals, and covering me with various creams and mousses. Eventually, I'm left in my underwear in a room labelled "Tribute Prep B4". The unfamiliar woman from earlier enters and introduces herself as Bree, my stylist. She says she's come to dress me for the chariot parade. She puts me in a Lycra suit that clings to my body. It's intricately decorated with an iridescent fish pattern, which she then copies onto any skin not covered by the suit. She puts a little bit of blue spray into my hair.
"Done," she says happily, stepping back to admire her work. I look in the mirror, and there's no denying how good I look. In this outfit, every female in Panem will fall head over heels for me.
Bree then leads me down the corridor to the warehouse. Our two crystal white horses wait by our carriage. Toria whispers her first good piece of advice in my ear.
"Make friends."
I don't need to hear anymore. I quickly scan the collection on tributes for potential allies. My eyes land of the District 12 girl. She looks striking in a shiny black suit and dark make up. Her stylist has done a great job. I scurry over to her, weaving my way through the other tributes. She's stroking one of the chariot horses. I see that her hair is an amazing dark brown, intricately braided round her head into an amazing pattern. I'm filled with a sudden courage.
"Hello!" I say.