When I wake up, I am momentarily confused. Where am I? Where's Peeta and Primrose? And then reality slaps me in the face and I remember where I am and where I am heading. I am on a Capitol train heading towards the Capitol to be prepped up, shown off to the world and then thrown into an arena with 23 other people to fight to the death. Oh great! That's just made me feel even better... I slowly get out of bed and make my way to the dresser. I pull out a blue camisole and black leggings then take a shower. I really don't know how to work a shower so I end up hopping foot to foot as alternating streams of hot and cold water hit my body. When I am finally finished, I change into my clothes and use some make-up to cover the remaining bruises from Gale's attack last week.

Satisfied with my appearance, I head to the dining car. I'm starving... When I get there, I am greeted by the sight of Haymitch, Jason and Effie Trinket. "You'd freeze to death first." Haymitch says. "No, cause I'd have a lot of fire." Jason replies "No, that's a good way to get killed." I come up behind Haymitch and ask what's a good way to get killed. "Oh, joy! Why don't you join us? I was just giving some life saving advice." Haymitch explains. "Like what?" I question him."Oh, I was just asking about how to find shelter," Jason mentions. "Which would come in handy if in fact you were still alive." Haymitch remarks. "How do you find shelter?" I ask Haymitch "Pass the jam?" I ignore his request and ask again, "How do you find shelter?" "Give me a chance to wake up, sweetheart. This mentoring is very taxing stuff." Haymitch pours alcohol into his coffee. "Can you pass the marmalade?" In anger, I last out and send a knife into the dining table, just missing Haymitch's fingers."That is mahogany!" Effie Trinket announces. "Look at you, you just killed a place mat." Haymitch says as he yanks the knife out the table.

"Do you really want to know how to stay alive?" Haymitch questions me before continuing "You get people to like you." Haymitch sees my expression and carries on talking, "Oh? Not what you were expecting? Well, just so you know sweetheart. A packet of matches or a loaf of bread could save your life and those things only come from sponsors. And to get sponsors, you have to make people like you." I don't say much the rest of the way to the Capitol.


As soon as the train stops, we are ushered into the training centre which will become our home/prison until the games begin. We are led straight to our prep teams, I have a stylist named Cinna who I will see after my prep team Octavia, Venia and Flavius have addressed some problems. Hours later, I feel like a plucked bird ready for roasting. My prep team have waxed all the hair off my skin leaving it tingling and vulnerable. When I can finally see Cinna, I am in for something of a shock. I expected someone old trying desperately to look young. Someone Grotesque. Cinna has met none of these expectations. The only thing... Capitol... about Cinna has to be a metallic gold eyeliner that has been applied by a light hand. I have to admit, It does look attractive.

"Hello Katniss. I'm Cinna, your stylist. Just give me a minute, alright?" Cinna circles me, studying my naked body for any signs of imperfection, I have a powerful urge to cross my arms over my chest. But I don't. "Your hair, It's lovely. Who did it?" Cinna asks me. "My mother" I reply. "She has very clever fingers... It's in almost perfect balance with your profile" Cinna tells me. "Anyway, tonight we're going to dress you for the tribute parade. Portia and I think that the coal miner thing's very overdone. No one will remember you in that. And we both see it has our job to make District 12 tributes unforgettable," says Cinna. I'll be naked for sure. "So rather than focus on the coal mining itself, we're going to focus on the coal,' says Cinna. Naked and covered in black dust. "And what do we do with coal? We burn it," says Cinna. "You're not afraid of fire, are you, Katniss?" He sees my expression and grins.

A few hours later, I am dressed in what will either be the most sensational or the deadliest costume in the opening ceremonies. I'm in a simple black unitard that covers me from ankle to neck. Shiny leather boots lace up to my knees. But it's the fluttering cape made of streams of orange, yellow, and red and the matching headpiece that define this costume. Cinna plans to light them on fire just before our chariot rolls into the streets. "It's just a synthetic fire that Portia and I came up with. You'll be perfectly safe." But I'm not convinced I won't be perfectly barbequed by the time we reach the city circle.

Just before we roll out into the streets, Cinna lights our headdresses and capes on fire. "It works!" Cinna says relieved. "Remember heads high. Smiles! They're going to love you." The last thing I think before we enter the city circle is that Cinna's calm and normal demeanour masks a complete madman.

I am frozen in place as soon as we roll into the streets until I catch a glimpse of how breath-taking we look from a giant screen. I put on my most winning smile and wave to the crowd, I even blow a few kisses and a hundred hands try to catch it as if it were a real and tangible thing. Someone throws me a red rose and I catch it before blowing a kiss in the general direction of the giver. As soon as we stop outside the President's mansion, I notice the unfriendly looks thrown my way from the other tributes which only confirms what I am thinking, I literally outshone them all. Nobody will forget me. Not my looks. Not my name. Katniss, the girl who was on fire. President snow starts to speak in his snake-like voice, "Welcome! Welcome Tributes! We salute your courage and your sacrifice and we wish you Happy Hunger Games!" The chariots go round the city circle one last time before the doors lock behind us. As soon as we step off our chariot, Cinna, Portia, Effie, Haymitch and the prep teams engulf us and congratulate us on our spectacular performance. We go straight back up to our floor where we have a quick dinner before being sent off to bed as we have an early start tomorrow morning.

But I really don't feel like going to bed yet so when the hallways have emptied, I sneak out of my room and head to the elevator. Cinna said if I ever needed him at night-time to press the star button on the elevator. So I pressed it and in a couple of seconds, found myself walking down a unfamiliar hallway to a room that has Cinna's name on it. I knock softly on the door and I don't have to wait long till Cinna opens the door. I can tell I have surprised Cinna but he ushers me inside and locks the door behind him. "Couldn't sleep?" Cinna asks me, I shake my head. "No, all I can think about is the Games." Cinna looks at me in sympathy and opens his arms for a hug, I step straight into them without hesitation. "Can I stay here tonight, please?" I ask Cinna. "Of course you can. You don't even need to ask." Cinna tightens his arms around me. And I started to feeling butterflies in my stomach at being in such close proximity to such an attractive man.

It was an unusual new sensation to say the least when Cinna began to let his hands wander beyond my waist. His fingers lifted my shirt a little and traced over the bare flesh of my back and sides, making the warmth in my cheeks grow and spread. Then one of his hands climbed upwards, finding its way to one small breast and squeezing it, eliciting a low moan from me.

The whole situation grew stranger and stranger for me as the moments passed. As Cinna's hands wandered over my skin, my body heated in response to his touch.

Then I gasped as the other wandering hand finally decided to pause: sliding between my legs over skin now red, raw, and free of even the smallest hair. I could feel a familiar moistness where his fingers probed at me, this only happened when I was with Peeta. Still Cinna seemed only to be getting started. Within moments my knees verged on giving out from under me as a finger slid its way slowly into me and Cinna's lips stopped their kiss and let his lips travel downwards: along my neck and collarbone to the breast his hands had left untouched.

The mere touch of the tip of his tongue on my breast made me moan again, and this time it was anything but low. But he didn't desist. His lips and tongue and teeth toyed with the tender flesh, nipping red marks onto pale white skin and coaxing more moans out of me. A sudden gasp joined those moans when a second finger wormed its way into me to join its twin, thrusting slowly in and out. I felt another familiar feeling, like something was building within me at Cinna's touch. The build-up increased moment by moment until finally I let out another gasp, one that was only a decibel or two short of a scream. That warm feeling spread through my body, my limbs shuddered and my vision blurred. When I finally came back to myself enough to see what Cinna was doing, I found that I had gently been lowered onto my knees, the warm woolly material of my robe protecting my shins from the cold floor. Then I glanced upwards at Cinna.

The stylist had used my brief incapacitation well. He had now joined me in my state of dress, or rather undress. For a moment I glanced at him appreciatively, wondering if his body was kept at its current level of fitness by effort or by Capitol sciences. Then I glanced further down than his abs and decided it was definitely the latter. That couldn't be natural.

Cinna helped me discard my robe before helping me lay down. My eyelids began to feel heavy and I felt like I was going to fall asleep. Then I felt something probe between my legs. Lips met mine and I suddenly felt wide awake as Cinna sheathed himself into me. Cinna began to thrust, forcing a loud moan out of me.

Time seemed to somehow both drag and race as Cinna kept thrusting. Eventually though I began to shudder, my moans began to escape with more frequency, and finally my toes curled and I moaned long and loud as I felt my first release. Cinna followed soon after, releasing his seed into me with a groan. I now felt extraordinarily tired. Cinna managed to pull himself out of me and then wrap me protectively in his arms before falling asleep. I watched the peaceful look on his face for a while before I too fell into oblivion.