Chapter 9

I do try to smile. Try to make myself even the least bit likable...that is how you get sponsors after all, but it doesn't happen. My cheeks tighten as if someone is physically pulling the corners of my mouth down, I feel my eyes go wide as I take in the rows and rows of people, colorful morphed people. I gasp slightly. Too many people...I've seen this walk before...those banners, the podium at the end of the strip that seems to be about a mile long...stretching...but I haven't realized. TV doesn't capture everything... It doesn't get the weight of their stares, the booming echo of the their hands clapping together, the earsplitting cry of their cheers...too many freaking people.

Fry's laughter breaks my dizzy state, I glance up at him. He's looks the same as before, leaning back slightly...lazily, his mouth corked up at the corner, his eyes appraising the crowd with nothing but his normal shred of amusement. None of it bothers him...I should have known. "Well, looks like we found your talent" I grumble, dropping my gaze to my shaky palms resting lightly on the black leather padding on the rail of the chariot. He looks down at me.

"Did we?" he flashes me a smile, his sarcasm only showing in his eyes in a clear avoidance of the crowd.

I shake my head "You seem to be enjoying this."

Another beaming grin "I guess thats as much of a talent as balancing knives off of cups."

"I'm thinking more so actually."

They're shouting District Three, cheering for us as we pass, throwing red pedaled roses at us. Apparently Taris's costume did provoke some attention. Fry casually raises his palm, not so much a wave but a signal of acknowledgment. Its arrogant and annoying, I fight the urge to elbow him in his side...but they love it. People scream out, somehow even louder than before. Fry laughs again.

We get closer to the podium and I notice for the first time the large screen hanging above it. 'That must be new...' Its showing a close up image of who I recognize to be the District One tributes, though its hard to tell with the glittering gems encasing their faces, the only dead give away is the girls cat eyes and the boys blood red hair. They're smiling, waving...eating the scene up, but of course they volunteered. They've been preparing for this since infancy...The screen shifts then, and I feel my shoulders tighten. A Golden helmet rests over the boys black hair, covering it, but the girl's drapes down to her mid back, straightened to pin point. They don't smile. In fact, they barely seem aware of the cheers booming from the stands, their eyes are straight ahead...narrowed. "Holy shit" I breathe, Fry doesn't hear.

It doesn't take long for the image to change again, and then its my face reflected on the screen for everyone to see... I look paralyzed, not sick like I feel just...still, statue like. Fry just looks bored...frozen and bored, what great representations of my District. I look down when we disappear, not wanting to see the other tributes...not yet.

The chariot comes to a very sudden halt but I manage to catch myself on the rail before I stumble. The rest file in making two long rows of six all aiming towards the podium, I keep my eyes carefully trained ahead, away from the other music shuts off...I had't even realized it'd been playing until it was gone...A loud static noise sounds throughout the stands and the cheering stops, I look up.

President Snow stands at the podium, his lips are pulled into a smile but his eyes are hard...intense, wearing his usual white suit with the small red rose pinned above his heart. He stares at us, his gaze traveling the lines of tributes. Theirs a wicked glint in his eyes that makes vile rise to my throat...he enjoys this. Enjoys the fact that 23 of us won't make it another two months. Enjoys that its because of him...he's proud. Every year I watch him on TV and wonder how a man so small and frail looking could provoke such terror in the eyes of the tributes...I get it now.

He makes his welcoming speech. Telling us what an honor it is to have us here...recognizing that it must be an honor for us to be here. I look at Fry, and for the first time their is no mocking humor on his face. He's mad, disgusted. The camera makes its round on the screen, converging on our faces as we gaze up at the paper white-haired President. The careers look pleased, 90% of the other districts look sick, scared...and then theirs Fry and me. I expect my face to match the fear and horror of the tributes from District Ten they'd just shown, but when our faces become clear, I don't see fear, I see anger. My eyes blaze blue, the black circle exaggerating it, my jaw is set and my lips are pressed tight...Fry doesn't look much different.

Seventy one years ago when the Rebellion began, District Three was one of the first to be attacked by the Capitol, as we were one of the first to isolate the Capitols rain. It didn't take long for them to regain control and implement our punishment. Sending our children out to kill each other in the first Hunger Games, but we put up a fight, holding our resentment for the Capitol strong, waiting for the next rebellion. Even today, after Seventy one years, every person I know from the district refers to the dark days as 'The first Rebellion.' Sure that it won't be the last... my fists clench, feeling a strong wave of pride for the Technology District.

"Welcome Districts...to the SeventyFirst Annual Hunger Games!" President Snow raises his hand, and the crowd explodes, raising in volume until we can barely hear the Capitol Anthem blaring out of the stands. The chariot jerks to life and parades us once more around the circle and disappears into the Training Center.

We're surrounded instantly, the stylist teams grabbing at our arms, grinning widely. "You two looked great! Everyone noticed the outfits! I mean...you were glowing!"

Some one shoves through the bunch. "Yea yea, everyone did awesome, it was completely magical and all that..." Skader drawls, rolling his eyes. "Now move it, we're going back to the rooms." He grabs my wrist and pulls me towards a door, nodding at Fry to follow, but he doesn't notice. He's too busy surveying the room, his eyes moving from tribute to tribute, assessing. Skader clears his throat "Fry, lets move it, you'll have plenty of time for this during training tomorrow." The blood drains from my face. Training.

We leave into a hallway where Rassa stands waiting, her arms crossed over her chest and her lips pursed thoughtfully, Beatilce chatters at her from the wall.

"Oh!" Beatilce claps her hands "You two look great! Though Dicen, we should talk about your' facial expressions you seemed a bit...stiff, it was probably just nerves, nothing that can't be worked on!" She gestures for us to follow her up the hallway. "Your outfit was by far a stand out, definitely the most unique, though I did love the diamonds on District One, did you not? So beautiful. Oh, and District Two was quite impressive as well, those helmets looked like they weigh a ton!" She keeps it up all the way down the hall and too the elevator, while the rest of us block her out in a grave silence. "Well, now its time to eat and then you should get some rest...training starts super early tomorrow. Oh, and your guy's uniforms for it are hanging in your closets, I checked just to make sure, last year we had a bit of a problem with the girl's...it was too big and we had to get it tailored so she was nearly late...luckily I managed to get it right before training began" She sighs and takes a breathe "Don't you simply hate it when that kind of thing happens? I know I..."

Skader makes an impatient noise "Thats fascinating Beatilce." His voice is dry. She frowns, looking offended.

Each District and their 'entourage' get their own floor every year that they live in until the Arena. Ours is the third obviously, as it goes by District Number. I knew the rooms would be nice, it is the Capitol, but I hadn't realized the extent...we enter into a large open room, with a long luxurious couch centered around another large television strung up firmly on the wall, long windows makes up an entire side of the room showing of the lit up city from all different angles. I have a hard time believing we're only on the third floor, as the view is well above 90% of the buildings outside.

"I don't get it." I say, after a minute or two of staring out the window in awe.

Everyone turns to glance at me "Get what?" Rassa raises a sharp eyebrow.

"Why they do this...I mean, they brought us here to die...why don't they just lock us in a chamber or something? We're gonna end up int he Arena either way..."

Skader laughs, but its humorless and dry "I don't know, but I would assume its the same reason they have a victor at all." Fry and I turn to stare at him.

"A victor?"

"Well, after the rebellion the Games were invented as a punishment, right? So really, why don't they just kill off 24 District kids?"

"The games are a tradition Skader!" Beatilce interrupts, looking appalled. "They bring the Districts together...give us something to root for!" Skader grinds his teeth while Rassa stares at her in horror.

"You can't honestly still think that Beatilce? You've been an escort for years...surely you must have realized by now..."

"All I've realized thus far is that the Districts, especially District Three...are extremely ungrateful for the Capitol's rain!"

Rassa's eyes blaze and she takes a step towards Beatilce, who staggers back.

"Hey! Woah." Skader sweeps into Rassa's path. "As I was saying" He raises an eyebrow at her, she seems to deflate slightly "Well, actually...I don't really need to say it now" He jerks a thumb over his shoulder at a shaky looking Beatilce "Bubble head just proved my point. They don't want to look like a bunch of barbaric murderers, they want to look like the Games are for a purpose other than torture of the Districts, and this" He sweeps his hand around the large room "helps them prove their point."

"Well, whatever the reason...I think its great, all hail the Capitol" I glance over to see Fry lounging back in a reclining chair, his legs propped up on the side table as he pops a strange looking candy into his mouth.

"Ha, you don't mean that kid." Rassa tells him, with little humor in her voice.

Fry just shrugs "I mean, think about it. All our families are back in District Three right now starving. Granted, they may live a bit longer than us" He gestures to me "...but we're not the ones suffering right now...and both you two made it through the games! Now you have the best lives of all. I say they're just giving us opportunities..."

"You don't actually believe that." I blurt out with a sinking feeling in my chest. "From the look on your face when Snow was talking you definitely don't believe that..."

"Just because I think Snow is a major asshole doesn't mean I don't..."

The doors swing open and the stylist teams stumble in, all smiles. "Oh darn" Taris drones dramatically, his gaze sweeping over me "I was hoping the batteries wouldn't have died just yet, I wanted to try something...but oh well, they made it through the chariot rides and I do suppose that is all that matters! Well, shall' we head to your room Dicen, and we can get you out of that leotard? It is a three-man job..." The three people that assisted me earlier scurry up to me, their faces still contorted in beaming grins.

"Do hurry, supper should be ready by now." Beatilce calls at us as they lead me out of the room.

My 'room' turns out to be about double the size of my entire house back in the District, with three different sections and a large bathroom that you enter through a grand archway. Taris and the clones help me shimmy out of the black leotard. This time I don't even blush as I stand before them in only my underwear...theirs been so much exposure tonight I'm nearly numb to it. They leave, telling me to take a shower and then come out for dinner, so I do.

The shower itself is quite literally twice the size of Mayla and I's shared bed. A panel of silver buttons sits on the wall, giving different options, steamer, dryer, shampooer, conditioner, warmer, cooler...I stare at it dumbfounded. I'm from District Three, I should be able to figure this out, but in the end I give in and pound my fingers across random buttons until warmish water comes out. The moment I step out a gust of air hits my back, completely drying me off from head to toe, followed by two laser beams that shift around my hair until it falls down my back in silky swirls, utterly clear of the sticky spray Taris had emptied on my head in order to keep his design in place earlier.

After I get dressed in the attire Taris has apparently picked out for me I walk out to the main room, where Beatilce and Frari are chatting animatedly while leaning against the window.

continued...