*****DISCLAIMER!*****

Me: Cinna, I just-I can't do it. I can't finish this story.

Cinna: Yes, you can and you will. Lovely, just because you didn't write the original story doesn't mean that yours isn't just as good.

Me: Oh, please, we both know that isn't true. Suzanne Collins wrote an amazing story. My fan fiction isn't even a quarter of what her story was.

Cinna: Why does it have to be a competition?

Me: It's not. It's just that if I feel like it has to be amazing. Like, I have to have this perfect story for her.

Cinna: Ah, so what you're really worried about is writing something that she will see as "pathetic"?

Me: Yeah, pretty much.

Cinna: I doubt that Suzanne Collins would think that about anyone's fan fiction.

Me: Yeah, yeah, okay. I'm done with my little pity party. Thanks for listening. Even though you're just a fictional character.

Cinna: I may be just a fictional character, but I helped you. Didn't I?

Me: Yeah, thanks.

Cinna: No problem. Now, did you do the disclaimer?

Me: Oh, shit. I almost forgot.

Cinna: Well, have at it, my dear.

Me: This story is based off of the Hunger Games trilogy written by Suzanne Collins. I own nothing.

Previously:

He looks back at me and I raise an eyebrow. He shrugs his shoulders and says, "One of them could be a sponsor."

Haymitch clears his throat and he hands me the steak knife. "You need this more than I do, Sweetheart. He knows what he's doing. You better watch your back."

Maybe he's right. Maybe Peeta's a wolf in sheep's clothing.

Chapter Nine: Girl On Fire

091413

LovelyUnderland

We are brought to the Remake Center once we get off the train. Peeta is now with his prep team getting "beautified", as am I.

My prep team reminds me of children playing with their new toy – me being the new toy. They were so excited to meet me and tell how they adored that I volunteered for the "little girl from twelve".

They talk so much that I barely notice all the scrubbing and ripping they are doing to me. Barely.

Daddy dearest didn't allow me to get "pampered" when I got home from the districts. He said that it wouldn't be fair if I was already clean and prepped.

I have to go through what any other tribute has to go through with their prep team. Personally, I'm pissed because I hate when other people touch me. Whether it's a hug or a tap on the shoulder, it makes me uncomfortable.

I grew up with very little physical contact. The only people I'm used to are Roal, Lily, and Eleania.

When I was with the district families I refused to let them near me. It wasn't just because I was trying not to get attached to them. It was also because I would have anxiety attacks.

It was different with the Everdeens though. I didn't mind holding Prim's hand, hugging Mrs Everdeen, tucking Prim into bed, letting them braid my hair, etc. Same thing with Gale, although it took him awhile, eventually I was comfortable enough to let him hug me without going into a huge fit.

Thinking about this keeps me occupied as my prep team works on me. They are complete strangers to me, but here I am lying on a cold ass table letting them "fix" my body.

Flavius, the only guy in the prep team, has yet to shut up about how beautiful my braid is. It's a simple braid that goes down my back, but my prep team is fascinated by it. I understand why, though. They are used to crazy capitol hair styles and I have a five second get up done.

Venia and Octavia, the other two members of my prep team, apologize each time they pull a wax strip from my leg. The treat me like an antique porcelain doll.

"We've gotten rid of all of the filth and you don't look that horrible at all! I'm surprised that you were such a mess since you're the president's daughter and all. Alright, you're ready to see Cinna." Flavius says in his bubbly voice.

I laugh hysterically when Venia smacks him in the back of the head, saying that he shouldn't insult the president's daughter. Flavius quickly apologizes and only quiets when I tell him to stop. The group then leaves me alone in the room to retrieve Cinna.

Cinna is my stylist for the games. I think he's new because I've never heard of him before. I expect him to be dressed in some ridiculous outfit with makeup globed on his face – the typical capital fashion. However, I am surprised to find that he looks completely normal.

The only thing that stands out is his golden eye liner. I'm so intrigued by his normality that I almost forget that I'm naked. It's only when Cinna circles me, observing every inch of me, that I remember. I become extremely self-conscious as he does this. No one has ever seen this much of me before. Just as I start to become uncomfortable, he hands me a robe and tells me to put it on.

"How despicable we must seem to you. My name is Cinna," he says playing with my braid.

"Mine's Katniss. What do you mean? I grew up in the capitol." I say as confusion sets in.

"You grew up in the capitol, yes. But you have stayed inside the president's mansion, basically, your entire life. You didn't get out until a few months ago, am I right?" Cinna asks, tilting his head.

Something about Cinna makes me trust him completely, like with Peeta, but for once it doesn't scare me.

I nod in response and he continues, "Listen to me when I say this: I know that you are not like your father. I can see it in your eyes. You're different."

"Well, you seem to be the only one who hasn't judged me by my father. I mean, other than Mrs Everdeen and Prim."

I don't really want to talk about Prim. The mere thought of her makes my eyes water.

"That was one of the bravest things I've ever seen – what you did for Prim. I'm sorry that this happened to you, but I'm here to help you in any way that I can," Cinna says, his soothing voice relaxing me.

"Most people just congratulate me," I say.

"Well, I don't really see the point in doing that," Cinna pulls up a chair in front of me. "So, tonight is the tribute parade. My partner, Portia, is Peeta's stylist. We want to dress you in complimentary costumes and, as you know, it's customary to reflect the flavor of the district that you are representing."

"Yeah, District 12 usually represents coal miners. You're here to make me look pretty, yes? So, will I be in a miner outfit or thrown out there naked with coal dust on me?" I ask remembering the past tributes of District 12.

"Well, I'm here to help you make an impression. I don't want to dress you in some ridiculous, embarrassing outfit. I wanna do something that they'll remember. I want to make you both unforgettable. Did they tell you about sponsors yet and how to get them?" he says.

"Yeah, but I'm not very good at making friends." I say as Cinna tucks a strand of hair behind my ear.

"We'll see. I just think that somebody that brave doesn't deserve to be dressed up in some stupid costume."

A few hours pass and I am put into a black unitard that covers me from ankle to neck. Shiny leather boots that lace up to my knees. The cape made of streams of orange, yellow, and red and the matching headpiece top off the outfit. My hair is braided down my back like it was during the reaping and I barely have any make up on.

Cinna walks up to me and says that I will be wearing fire. Before I have time to freak, he explains that it is synthetic and safe. Still, I worry about being fried, but I made a deal with Haymitch and I can't back out now.

"I want the audience to recognize you when you're in the arena. Katniss, the girl who was on fire!" Cinna says giddily.

I am relieved to see Peeta walk in wearing an identical costume. Everyone seems ecstatic about the impression we will make. Although, I'm still a bit nervous that I might die before I even get to the arena.

Soon enough we are loaded onto our chariots, which are pulled by four horses. Cinna and Portia make their last touches on our outfits and then walk away to talk about god knows what.

"So, what do you think about being lit on fire?" I whisper to Peeta.

"I'll rip off your cape if you'll rip off mine," he says through his teeth.

"Peeta, I know we promised Haymitch to listen, but do you think he ever considered the fact that we might burst into flames?"

"Katniss, I don't think anyone would have taken this situation into consideration. Where is he anyway? Shouldn't he be here with us?" Peeta asks looking around for our drunk mentor.

"Um, it's probably not advisable to have him around an open flame with all the alcohol he has in him," I say and we both laugh.

Suddenly our chariot begins to move and we are taken outside of the City Circle. Less than three seconds after we are all lined up, the districts are pulled through the city doors, and I see Cinna walking over with a torch in his hand. My jaw drops. He wasn't joking.

Without a word, he lights our capes on fire. I grip the edge of the chariot and wait for the pain but it never arrives. He lights out headdresses as well and claps like a child. I can see the excitement in his eyes as he bounces off of the chariot. As we are pulled through the city doors, I can hear Cinna yell something.

"What did he say?" I ask, looking up at Peeta.

This is the first time I have seen him in his costume with the fire. He looks amazing. I can feel my heart begin to beat faster and my stomach feels so fluttery. I hate the feeling.

"I think he said that we should hold hands," Peeta says, taking my right hand into his left and looking back at Cinna for approval.

Cinna gives up a thumbs-up and we enter the city. When the crowd sees Peeta and I they explode in excitement. Everyone has turned their attention to us, ignoring the other tributes. Poor them. Roses fly towards us and I catch one in my hand. It smells amazing and I begin to giggle. It isn't like me, but I don't care.

Peeta looks at me and sees the rose. I must look so child-like, but I can't help it. I poke the rose at his nose for him to smell it and he laughs. He takes our intertwined hands and holds them up for everyone to see, causing complete chaos.

The crowd screams even louder, shouting our names and blowing kisses at us. I do something and I don't even know why. I pull Peeta closer to me, wrap my arm around his waist, and lean my head onto his chest. He is so sturdy and I feel so safe.

At first, it shocks Peeta, but he quickly wraps his strong arms around me and waves to the crowd. I am almost deafened by the noise as our chariot reaches the City Circle and, although I don't want to, I begin to let go of Peeta.

"Don't let go. Please? I'm afraid that I might fall out of this thing if you do," he says nervously.

"Okay, I didn't really want to let go anyways." I don't know why I say that, but it sends a deep blush to my face.

All of the chariots make a half circle at the entrance of the President's mansion, or shall I say, my home. I look up at the screen that is supposed to be showing all of the tributes and see that the cameras are still focused on Peeta and I.

I dare to glance at the other tributes and see that they are shooting daggers at us with their eyes. We are stealing the show and we're probably the first on their hit list.

The anthem begins to play and I direct my eyes to the balcony of the mansion. I almost forget that my father would be there, when I see him standing in the center staring at me. He looks at me and then his eyes flick to Peeta. A wide grin spreads on my father's face and I know that it can't be good.

When we return back to the training centre, Peeta and I are greeted by Cinna, Portia, Effie, and Haymitch – who, surprisingly, seems less drunk than usual. The man is actually coherent!

Portia extinguishes our flames and helps us off of the chariot. Haymitch complements us on our costumes before turning to Effie, insulting her dress.

"Haymitch, are you sure you should be near flames?" I tease. For some reason, god knows why, I am in a playful mood.

"Fake flames… are you sure you-" he stops and looks over my shoulder.

I look over my shoulder I see a huge, muscular blonde boy eyeing me. A chill runs down my back and Haymitch quickly ushers all of us to the elevator.

*A/N: I vote for a review! I edited this chapter and I hope you all enjoyed. Toodles!-LovelyUnderland*