Chapter 4
A Very Pretty Tail
When I arrived in the prep room, I got myself ready for the worst. When I left it, I understood that I hadn't prepared enough. My next stop, my stylist was an incredibly bubbly woman, even worse than Pearl. I hated her on sight.
And I was right to do so. When I figured out what I was supposed to be, I was furious. Apparently, I was going to become a fish. Well, not exactly a fish. Part fish. Something called a mermaid. The things that the people before Panem had come up with. So now, I had a green tail. That green tail required me to be carried to the chariots, by Jason. Who was shirtless.
He apparently was another part-tail creature, but his tail was waiting on the chariot. As he carried me, my body was way too close to his bare chest. I tried to distance myself away from it, discreetly. But he noticed, and smirked down at me.
"What's wrong, Tori?" Why, oh why, did he have to make this awkward? I was pretty sure that my face was red.
"Nothing!" My voice was stupidly high pitched. His smirk grew wider. Why did all boys have to act this way! My mind practically screamed the thought. Annoying, frustrating, stupid, BOYS! He quite promptly drew me closer. I slapped him.
"Idiot."
"Ouch." He dropped me on the seat for the chariot. Hard. But from the tone of his voice, I knew he was joking. My stupid stylist came over next.
"Are you completely ready? Good, good. I'm sure you'll make a splash as soon as Panem sees you!" I rolled my eyes at her pun, out of the corner of my eye, I saw Jason doing the same.
"Thank you… Um…." My voice trailed off, unable to remember her name. She smiled at me.
"Renee, dearie." What was with the Capitol and their names of endearment? I smiled at her. I didn't know whether or not my smile looked forced. From Jason stuffing his fist in his mouth to keep from roaring with laughter, though. I was pretty sure it did. Renee brushed it off though.
"Anyway, time to get on the chariots!" We did as she said, with her fussing over us, every step of the way. She had to stop, though, when the chariot started moving.
As soon as our chariot entered the stadium, my ears picked up nothing. For a second, there was silence. Then we were hit by a blast of noise. People were screaming and cheering our names like they'd known us since forever. I reached out, and grabbed Jason's hand. He took it without hesitating. The sound that came next felt like it busted my eardrums. I saw the cameras zooming in on us, well, more importantly, our hands. I heard Eddy Reynal over the crowd. His speech irked me to no end.
"And it looks like the tributes from District Four have more than a friendship on their mind!" I exchanged a look with Jason, he looked nowhere near as annoyed as I was. But when he saw the look on my face, he understood. The silent message passed between us, we both agreed what to do. In perfect synchronization, we both called out:
"We have more of a friendship than you'll ever had!" It was rude, and we both knew it. But we both also knew that it would get us more sponsors. The Capitol always loved the bolder tributes. The Capitol laughed at that, and Eddy joined their mirth only a second after.
"Looks like we have a pair of REAL fighters this year!" His voice was bright,and triumphant. And just like that, we won the crowd over.
After another round, listening to our names being chanted, the president started speaking. It was another long, droning speech about the history of the Hunger Games. It was boring. However, the president himself was not. The old president, Gregory Wasman had died of a strange food poisoning. I was pretty sure the new president was the person behind it.
He was a young, fit man. In his late teens or twenties, he was quite obviously in the prime of his years. And he had nicely coloured hair. A blond that was a brown, but not quite. His blue eyes looked strangely like Oliver's. But that wasn't possible. And he was a lot more good-looking then Oliver. Those blue eyes were looking straight at me, even while his mouth moved, forming words that went on, and on, and on. I remembered from the history lessons that his name was Coriolanus Snow. A strange name for a strange person.
When going up to our rooms, I didn't think of the beauty of the rooms, or the death glares that the other tributes had sent us. I thought of the president, and his weirdly watchful gaze.
I'm sorry this chapter is terrible. I had writers block. Review?