When we are in the elevator, travelling downwards, Dante speaks again.
"When you are in that chariot, smile and wave, got it?"
"Why?!" I ask in disgust.
"Because it will make you gather favour with the audience. They will remember you, and want to sponsor you. You can bet that no other tributes will do it, so it will make you stand out even more. This could be the difference between life and death for you Nerida, sponsors will make a lot of difference."
I think. He's right; I could be on the verge of starvation or dehydration in that arena. If I gather favour with the crowd, I can get sponsors which can save my life.
"Okay." I say finally.
"Make sure you tell Dylan too." He tells me as the elevator stops gently. The doors slide open.
There are people everywhere, and for the first time, I see my competitors. As I walk to my chariot, where Dylan is waiting, the other tributes turn and stare.
The District 1 tributes – Aurora and Blaize – are wearing ridiculous diamond encrusted outfits. Aurora wears a crown and dress made entirely of diamonds, and a superior smirk. Blaize wears a diamond covered shirt and pants, but doesn't wear a crown. The light from them burns my eyes, and I turn away in disgust. I wonder if they know how tacky they look.
None of the other tributes really catch my attention, they wear pretty ordinary outfits, representing the industry of their district. The District 9 tributes are dressed in outfits made completely out of wheat plant, and District 3 wears electrical cords. District 7 is wearing leaves, and District 11 is wearing hay. They don't really stand out at all, they are rather ordinary.
Dylan is wearing a matching outfit to mine, with a blue shirt with an identical net. He isn't wearing any makeup, so his remake wouldn't have taken very long. He no doubt got some spare time, a privilege I might never get again.
He smiles nervously at me.
"Ready to impress these idiots?"
"Dante says to smile and wave to the audience. You think you can handle that?" I ask him.
His face screws up in disgust and confusion.
"What the hell for?" Dylan asks, the disgust clear in his voice. I can imagine he is thinking exactly what I was when Dante told me to be nice to the citizens.
"To gain favour and get sponsors, you idiot." I tell him, half playfully.
"Right. I guess that makes sense." He grins.
My heart gives an involuntary flutter, and I try to quell it. I am unsuccessful.
Dante reappears, and Dylan climbs up onto the chariot, led by two beautiful snow-white horses. Dylan takes my hand and pulls me gently up onto the glossy chariot.
"Remember you two, wave, smile, do as much as you can to appeal to these people!" Dante calls from below.
Dylan gives a thumbs up sign, and we wait for the other chariots to move forward. Just before our chariot begins to move, I notice for the first time the District 12 tributes. Not really outstanding in their plain coal black outfits, they probably won't get much attention. The dark haired girl, Haylee, looks nervous and pale, her lips trembling. Liam, the blonde boy, looks determined, no trace of fear in his eyes. His blue eyes flick up from the floor and meet mine. My heart thuds against my chest, and I give him a small smile. He tilts his head slightly, and smiles back. Our chariot goes through the archway of the Training Centre, and he is cut from my sight.
The noise is deafening, the yelling and cheering of the Capitol citizens ringing in my ears. The bright lights make our outfits shimmer, like the sunlight on the ocean. My cape glides behind me, like a wave on the tide. The citizens are shrieking with joy as we pass them, and Dylan smiles at them. I look out to them, paste a bright smile on my face, and wave in what I hope is excitement. There are thousands of freaks waving back at me jumping up and down, screaming and yelling, and waving with their multicolored hands.
"Wow, these people are mad." Dylan whispers to me through gritted teeth as he waves and smiles to the people who will be cheering on our slaughter just as they cheer us on now. The President's mansion looms up in front of us, a pearly white tower against the starry sky. President Flare awaits us, standing regally on his balcony, the flag of Panem unfurled above his head, in its gold and scarlet glory.
The chariots halt in a semi-circle, and my eyes find themselves on Liam again. He looks up to the President, blonde hair tousled from the breeze, and eyes burning like the coal of District 12. I look away, wondering why I'm so easily distracted by this boy.
The President clears his throat, and the crowds fall silent.
He begins his speech, welcoming us, and begins waffling on about courage and sacrifice, a speech very similar to Zibia's at the reaping. President Flare is a rather ghastly looking man. Around seventy, with pitch black hair, and a rather menacing looking moustache. He wears a suit with a black rose in the lapel, and smiles down at us spitefully while giving his speech. He finishes with a flourish, and the chariots swing forward again, the horse's hooves clicking against the cement. We turn around and head back to the Training Centre, the crowd in an uproar again. I wave and smile once more, and feel relieved when the chariot pulls into the Centre at last. The doors swing shut, and Dylan sighs and grins at me.
"I think we did alright."
I nod, almost tripping over my cape as I step down from the chariot. Dylan jumps down after me, and goes to speak to his stylist. I pick one of the black roses from the chariot's side, and twirl it thoughtfully. What did the citizens think of me? Did I make enough of an impression or did they see right through my cheesy façade?
"You look very nice."
I whirl around and find Liam standing right behind me. His hair is still messy from the wind of the Parade, and his blue eyes twinkle with kindness and burn with that determination I saw before.
"Thankyou." I smile. "You don't look too bad yourself."
"Oh this old thing?" He gestures to his plain black outfit, grinning.
Dylan reappears at my side, and Liam breaks the eye contact.
"Looking good, 12. Why don't you go find your stylist and ask him where the hell your actual outfit is?" Dylan snaps. I elbow him angrily.
"Dylan, shut u-"
"I might just do that." Liam says pleasantly, and strides off.
I swing around to Dylan and fight the urge to slap him.
"What the hell is your problem?" I burst out.
"Nerida, you can't skip around here making friends! Have you forgotten that we have to kill these people?!"
Oh, right. In a flurry of excitement at the Parade, I had almost forgotten our situation. I'm not here to make friends, I'm here to get home.
As Dylan and I walk to our apartment in the Training Centre, I still can't shake Liam from my head. Why would he just randomly appear and compliment me? Was it a form of manipulation so that I might spare his life in the arena?
We reach the apartment, and Aubrey and Zibia are waiting for us. They begin clapping, and inform is that we were one of the standouts of the Parade.
I go to my room, shower, and change into a pair of pyjama pants and a t-shirt. My bedroom in the Training Centre is almost identical to the one on the train, but slightly bigger.
I flop down on the bed, and look out the window to the city below me. There are citizens still dashing around, at eleven o'clock at night. I wonder what it's like to have everything you need, and more. To not wake up every morning without a care in the world, and have your life out in front of you.
I am shaken from my rather depressing thoughts by a knock on the door. I pull the mahogany door open, and find Dylan standing there, wearing clothes similar to me.
"Hey."
"Hey."
"Can I come in? I want to talk to you." He asks.
"Okay, sure." I hold the door open, and he sits down on the bed. I join him, and he sighs.
"Okay Nerida, I'm sorry for earlier. I didn't mean to snap."
I'm shocked at his apology. But also touched.
"Don't be sorry Dylan. You were right." I reassure him.
"No, it was unnecessary." He replies.
I look to the window, and sigh.
"It doesn't matter, Dylan. It's okay." I turn to him again and smile.
"I just felt bad, is all. I don't need any more negativity."
"You're right." I agree. "So don't worry about it anymore, okay?"
He smiles. "Okay."
He returns it, and lies back on the velvety bed, spreading his arms out..
"I'm gonna miss these things." He says.
I lie back with him, and I reach for the remote by the bedside table. I flick a button, and the ceiling illuminates with a beautiful starry sky. Dylan gasps with delight, and I smile. He takes my hand and this time I don't flinch away. I take a photograph in my mind, this moment here with Dylan underneath a beautiful sky, and know I will keep it until the last breath leaves my body.