At the very least, I make an attractive tree.

I'm glad Roma kept up their side of the bargain. No matter how much I dislike them as a person, there's no denying that they're at the very least good at what they do. To the Capitol audience, the outfit isn't exactly much. I'm dressed in a brown tunic and slightly darker pants, with dark, glossy boots. My arms and parts of my face are painted a slight green, suggesting foliage, and false vines creep up my arms and legs. On top of my hair - which remains mercifully unchanged - lies a wreath of leaves, intertwined with golden foil.

It's not the outfit itself that does me any good. It's the subtle changes. The way that there's some sort of padding in the tunic, making my shoulders look broader than they actually are. The boots give me the altitude I can't achieve on my own, and when I look at myself in the mirror, it's the better, stronger version of me. The version of me that, if I pull it off well enough, could even look like a competitor. I haven't been made spectacularly attractive, though I have definitely been improved, physically. Which, in all essence, sends a clear message.

You can do the rest yourself.

I come to that conclusion pretty quickly, as I spot Kiln making his way down the hall to me. I suppose he's checking out that everything is okay, just as Vera should be doing to Manon. Once we get the OK, he'll leave me and Manon to the mercy of the chariots. His face contorts not into a look of pleasure, nor of disappointment, but one of surprise, and then determination. As he makes his way up to me, I feel suddenly self-conscious about the outfit I'm wearing. Next to all of the Capitolites, I might have felt weird in the outfit, but I didn't feel out-of-place. In fact, what I'm wearing could even be considered 'drab' in comparison to their outfits. However, next to Kiln, who wears only a semi-formal shirt and jeans, I feel like I shouldn't even be in the same room as him.

"Keeping the glasses," he notes once he's taken a good look at me. "It's a good choice."

I squirm under his gaze - I'm not used to being looked at as if I'm a mannequin - and yank them off, fiddling with the dark rims. I can't see him as well now, but I'm nowhere near blind, only longsighted. I've had these glasses since I was fourteen, and it cost us a fortune, but I definitely need them in the forest. And the games.
"Are you sure?" I'm rather confused, considering that I had thought the complete opposite. I haven't seen any other 'four-eyes' since I've entered the Capitol, so it mustn't be the style.

Kiln nods. "It'll make you recognisable. The outfit isn't much, though."

"I'm taller."

"That you are," he pauses once again, observing me. "You got along with Roma?" Based on his tone, the question is obviously sarcastic.

"Is that even a question," I groan. "At least they're willing to give me a shot if I make them more famous."

"Is that a guarantee, though?" Kiln looks nervous at the thought of a bet. "You'd better do good in training and the rides, because Rome is the type to keep grudges. You might want to be worried about your interview outfit."

I gulp. Shit. I hadn't thought of it like that.

Seeing my presumably petrified expression, Kiln laughs and shakes his head slightly.
"You'll be fine. I have faith in your acting. Why else would I choose you?"

"Why did you choose me?" I let the words fall out before I mean them to. It's something I've been wondering on and off since yesterday - because Kiln doesn't seem to be jumping at the idea that I will be able to get far at all, in stead banking on 'what-ifs'.

His face looks surprised for a moment. And then, to my very own surprise, he smiles.

"You remind me of Natto."

Natto. The name rings a bell, but it takes me a while to connect the dots as to who this person is. It clicks after a little while. Natto Paek, the tribute who scored 7th place in Kiln's own games. They had allied from the start, along with another boy, and had been together for about three weeks before they were split up and the other two were killed.

"Natto Paek?" I ask. "But he died."

A funny look flashes across Kiln's face, and I immediately regret bringing up his death. It seems his mind is replaying the image of whatever happened to the boy, and his eyes seem to flicker with the memories, like a piece of old film. His voice is low when he speaks again.

"He would have won," Kiln's tone is a strange mixture on melancholy and determination. "He was like you. Knew how to get the sponsors on his side. Smart. Funny. What happened to him was the epitome of bad luck."

"Kiln-"

"He was supposed to win. And he didn't. But you will. I'll make sure of it."

My voice catches at his determination. Here is this man who didn't know that I existed up until a day ago, and yet has faith in me that I don't even have in myself.

"T-thanks Kiln," I don't really know what to say. "I'm sorry about your friend."

"Me too." he sighs. "He would've liked you. Would've said you were his protege."

That does kind of sound like me.

Looks like I've got another person to win for, then.

My heart feels like a war drum in my chest as I make my way down to the stables. Between Manon and I, the air seems to buzz with an electrical anxiety. Manon hardly speaks to me as we near the bottom, the lights flashing on the elevator screen as we descend lower and lower down. She's dressed similarly to me, but her hair is done immaculately, her makeup to perfection. She looks almost like a dryad in her costume, someone with unknowable wisdom and knowledge. I look like an asshole in a spunky getup.

Just before the door opens, however, she grips my hand.

"Before we go," she takes a deep breath, and I can really tell the extent of how nervous she is. "I just wanted to say, good luck. And to keep your eye out for allies. And to not let them get to you, because they're all just kids like us anyways. But to not be too obvious. And-"

"Manon," I squeeze her hand, just like she did to me at the reaping. "Chill. Breathe. It's just a case of 'sit still look pretty', remember? We don't need to pay attention to the others at all."

"I hate crowds." she says, her voice barely above a whisper.

"Then pretend they're all cheering at me, then, and you're invisible."

"Ellis!" she shoves me slightly. "Stop being an idiot!"

"Stop being an idiot? You drive a hard bargain, madam."

Manon pauses, as if deliberating whether or not to say something. "How are you so lighthearted all of the time, Ellis?"

I don't think I am. I mean, 90% of the time I'm faking it, Manon. And the other 10% of the time, it's just because I'm so deep into it that I've fooled myself.

"Because it's the only way I can survive."

The doors slide open just as I utter the words, so I can't hear Manon's retaliation. Our hands snap away - we're supposed to not be seen as allies at all - and I can hear her take a deep breath in.

We're not late, but judging by the number of tributes already milling around, we're not exactly early, either. It seems that more or less three-quarter of all the tributes have already arrived at the stables. Eyes dart towards us as the elevator slides open, and the first person I see is the girl from Six, who darts backwards as she catches a glimpse of the door opening. Edwina something-or-another, I think. She's dressed in a pretty strange outfit - like a human train, complete with bright headlights over her dark hair, which as been pulled back into an elegant bun with pins and (presumably) a lot of hairspray. The juxtaposition of the two - odd and refined - is quite strange, and it's obvious that she's uncomfortable with the outfit, or the way I'm staring at her.

"Sorry," I say, trying to keep my voice bright as I slip past her. I've got to keep my upbeat persona even here, because if I appear even a little uncertain, people will know it's a ploy. It's happened before that other tributes have found out acting strategies and exposed them in the interviews, to better their own chances at winning. I can't afford that at all.

Edwina doesn't say anything, only turning back to her district parter - Gilles, I think? He's dressed in the same outfit, but his discomfort is more obvious. He's definitely not close with Edwina, however, because he doesn't give her any sort of comforting look, only distant. It's obvious he doesn't trust her - or anyone - in the slightest.

Probably a good mindset to have, but I can't manage that.

Manon and I make our way to our carriage, which is being pulled by a pair of chestnut horses. I've never seen horses in person before, considering they're not exactly the District animal. For a moment I'm a bit unnerved - if they're from the Capitol, they must be mutts, right? - but they don't seem to be harmful in the slightest, only slightly impatient. As I climb up onto the horse, I can see the Career alliance grouped up at the front. Yeah, there's Lustra up front engaged in a deep conversation with Hera. The pair from Four are a little while away, and the boys from One and Two are also making conversation which I can't hear.

The separated conversation doesn't last long, however, as Lustra saunters - you can't describe her walk as purely walking, because she walks with too much purpose, 'sauntered' would be the only word you could use - anyways, as Lustra saunters up to the other four, Hera at her tail with a smirk on her face. The pair from One are dressed up like angels, with halos and wings - though I'm not sure how 'angels' and 'luxury items' are synonymous. The pair from Two are a pair of glorified peacekeepers, and I'm not sure what the two from Four are supposed to be. They seem to be some sort of half-human half-fish hybrids, with seashells and nets in their hair. Hera talks avidly - obviously she's eager to be here - before gesturing towards someone behind her.

Someone - oh. Me. Porter from Two frowns at me, as if I'm some sort of bug he can squash. There's something else, however. Some sort of irritation, as if I'm not supposed to act like I am. The girl from Four, whose name I still don't know, says something, and Porter agrees. They're staring daggers at me now, and it's obvious that they know that I know that they're looking at me.

I don't know why I do it, but I wave.

"Stupid," Manon murmurs under her breath as I take in their surprised - and annoyed - glances. Fortunately, Lustra rolls her eyes and directs them somewhere else. I catch a snatch of conversation; perhaps she's said 'not worth our time', or something.

Works for me.

"Speak for yourself," I say a moment later to Manon, trying to be as discreet as possible. She's caught the eye of the girl from Three, whose uncomfortably caught between the Career districts. For a volunteer, she hasn't been approached, and it's easy to see why. She's rail thin, and though she's attractive enough, a burn marks the side of her face. It goes just behind her eye down from her hairline all the way to halfway down her neck, and tough it's been covered by makeup, it's still noticeable. She hasn't had it long at all, I can tell. It's because of the way her fingers hover absently over the skin, as if to make sure it's still there, and how it hurts her to look around or move that side of her face. Odds are, that's part of why she volunteered. "You've found an ally?"

"She looked at me," Manon sounds indignant, but still smiles at the girl - whose name escapes me. "Who's to say I'm not allowed to look, huh? She's much less scary than your Career friends."

"Career friends," the idea amuses me. "Just, be careful with her, okay?"

"Yes, mother." I'm glad to see she's feeling better.

It doesn't take long for everyone to arrive, and after that it's only a matter of waiting for our chariot to roll out. Lustra and Eiffel are greeted to a hoard of screeching cheers as their horses start moving, all on their own. The sound is deafening, all feet stomping and incoherent yelling, and I almost want to plug my fingers into my ears. Then the next two are off, and the next. By the time District Six has departed, I think I'll be permanently deaf, and my heart is about to fly right out of my body.

And then we start moving. My stomach jerks with vertigo, and I can feel my breakfast sloshing around. Jeez, I shouldn't have eaten that much. Then we cross the line between underground and above ground, and the halo of light nearly blinds me. I squint slightly, trying to see beyond the flare of my glasses. It takes a moment. And then-

The people. Oh my god, the people. This must be the entire population of every single District in Panem tripled, all crowded into a single city. The entire Capitol population must be here, and if I squint, it almost looks like a sea of squirming, brightly coloured blobs. Their shrieks seem to get louder as we pull out, if that's even possible, and I can hear my name from all sides.

"Ellis!" "Ellis!" "Dogwood, over here!" "HEY, PRETTY BOY!" "You're so cool, Ellis!"

It's almost like a dream, and I feel like everything is a blur. In fact, the screams are sending my instincts into overdrive, and all I would like to do is hide under the chariot and cower, but I know I can't. Instead, I pull on my best winning smile, and pray that it doesn't waver. I hold up both my hands and wave as furiously as I can. The cheering gets louder.

"Over here, Ellis!" "Oh, look at me!"

It's so strange to think that they want me to die, because right now it sounds like they're my biggest fans. I've always wondered how they're so desensitised to this, because their moral code must be so different to ours. In any other situation, I'd love to study it.

"Ellis, I LOVE your hair!" someone calls, barely audible above the screaming of the crowd. I whirl in the direction of the speaker.

"Thank you! I do too!" I'm not expected to be heard over the crowd, but our voices must somehow be magnified, because I hear my voice loud and clear. It's a hurricane of voices that follows.

"He heard me! He actually talked to me! Oh my god!"

This is so weird.

The whirl of people and yelling continues for a good forty minutes, before we turn back into the building, the sound disappearing into the distance. Above us, twilight creeps into the sky, bringing with it the warm glow of the setting sun. As we pull in, the canopy of stone surrounding us, Manon breathes a sigh of relief.

"Thank god that's over," I wipe my brow. I'm sweating, though I'm not sure if it's because of the amount of people, or the nerves, or both. "I think I'm permanently deaf."

"I'm shaking," she sounds about as overwhelmed as I feel. And then, surprisingly, she snorts. "You were such an asshole out there!"

"They liked it." I shrug.

Manon nods, looking behind us at the other tributes who are closing in. Most, like us, look overwhelmed, and others seem to have almost shut down.

"That, they did."

We're escorted to our new temporary home, a skyscraper that towers over all of the other buildings. We're in floors located above the training centre, each district getting a floor of their own. I don't know what we could get that takes up an entire floor, and I'm not exactly happy that the Capitol is giving us this, but I can't deny that I'm excited to see what's there. Unfortunately, the elevator - between Manon, Vera, Kiln, Persephone and I - is too full to take us there all at once. I volunteer to wait, I'll be fine alone for a minute. Manon smiles, and then they're rocketed up into the sky.

Except I'm not alone for very long. Not even a second passes before someone joins me. The boy from Five. I'd missed him in the chaos of the chariot rides, but he looks very - striking - in his lightning bolt costume. I nearly laugh at the sight of it, given it's ridiculousness. It's not even like you can actually harvest lightning for energy - even someone as bad at science as I am knows that it's not possible yet. Still, I can't help but notice that he's very good looking, especially with the makeup. Up close, his eyes are a brilliant amber that seem to glow, and he's got nice hair. Much nicer than mine - even if he's going for a vampire-widow's-peak kind of look. He looks kind of haughty, with his sharp nose and half closed lids - but not in a bad way.

Oops, he's caught me staring.

"Sorry," I duck my head. Devon - that's his name - could very easily be a deadly enemy. Unlike me, his muscle isn't fake, he looks decently strong. Must be a factory worker. And he's probably smart, too. The elevator door opens.

Devon and I step into it, and I look at him blankly.

"Uh, which floor?"

He looks at me like I'm an idiot, his eyebrows creased in a mixture of annoyance and confusion.

"Five. Obviously." his voice isn't low, but it sounds quite bored and monotone.

"R-right. Sorry."

As the elevator starts to move, I mentally curse myself. What's gotten into you, Ellis? You have an angle, don't you? So, why are you acting like a thirteen-year-old girl around this guy? You're completely screwing yourself up.

It takes a little less than a second for the elevator to whip us up, and the door slides open on the fifth floor - Devon's floor.

I don't expect him to say anything, and he nearly doesn't, as he steps out of the elevator in a smart, clean motion. In fact, I don't think even he expects himself to speak, based on the surprise that flashes in his eyes as he opens your mouth.

"You're smart, you know that. Your strategy. You want to survive? Keep to it."

And then the door closes.

I'm a little dumbfounded, if I'm honest. Was the act that obvious? No. I don't think so. I fooled the Careers, and by the way Edwina looked at me, she believed the same. So why, or how did Devon know?

He's proved he's smart already. That could make a valuable ally. But, at the same time, he could easily stab me in the back - and I don't think he's have any qualms. He obviously doesn't care about me, based on the way he looked at me. But I feel like he doesn't hate me either. Otherwise he wouldn't have talked to me.

This could be dangerous.

Yeah. I need to watch myself around that boy.

QUICK AUTHORS NOTE CUZ I HAVE NO TIME

-Bit sorter chapter sozz

-getting to good part thank god

who do u like

what do u want to happen

-spoiler: every character is probably lgbt (ur local pan pal em is here to make sure of it)

-thanks for read

-byee