District 9

Female: Mayrose Lockhart

Male: Gregory Appleman

(Mayrose Lockhart's P.O.V)

I could feel the cool hands pulling me from the cove I'd found refuge in. I kicked my legs, scrambling into the small crawlspace. But the arms were stronger than I was and they gave another tug. I tried to grab onto the walls of the cave; I couldn't go back into that open arena.

I had to stay right here.

"Mayrose," A voice complained, and I felt my heart dropped as I realized the arms had a voice. As I realized they were pulling me to my death. "Come on, we have to get ready."

Ready? Ready for what?

In a last attempt to keep my life I threw my arms over my head and grasped onto the… headboard? What kind of cave had a headboard?

Fuck me for being the stupidest person on the earth. "Sorry Greg, I guess my survival instincts have already kicked in… heh." I laughed nervously. I jumped from my bed, pulling my auburn hair into a ponytail. I strolled into the bathroom as Gregory waited outside, shifting his weight from foot to foot uncomfortably.

I changed into jeans and a t-shirt before reappearing: "So breakfast?"

"Probably, all Nivan can say to me is: 'You! Scrawny boy! You get over here and eat. You just keep on eating 'till you puke.'" I rolled my eyes as Greg emulated our mentor.

"Charming," I sighed, and we left in silence. I couldn't help but remember my dream—it had felt so real, I was really cold, and it was really damp. And all around me had really smelt like dirt.

"Just so you know, when I said we had to get ready, I didn't mean for breakfast." I quirked my eyebrow at Greg, silently asking him what the hell he was talking about. "We've got that stupid chariot ride tonight, you know. So they've got to get us shaved and made up so we can sport those latest and greatest Capitol fashions."

"Huh. Maybe they'll dress us in loincloths and war paint. I mean, that's what I wear when I hunt."

"Really, see I normally wear a camouflage scarf and skin-tight leather pants. But you know me, all uh… nonconformist and such."

"That comment was barely coherent," I laughed, as we finally reached the dining hall.

"There you areeeeeee!" Nivan boomed, sprinting towards us, his giant arms waving in the air. "One day very soon, you'll regret it if you don't listen to me."

"Yes, sir," Greg grinned, diving for a seat at the table. He hardly had the time to scarf done a couple of what the Capitol called pancakes, before Nivan pulled him from his chair.

"Not so fast, you two can't go wasting anytime today, we've got to get ready for the rides tonight. If you two put on a good show… well, you'll be halfway to getting some sponsors. Now you listen to what they stylists say—and if you don't, you'll have to answer to me! Now…" He shot us an intimidating glare and I couldn't help but think about the many lives that had been lost because of him. "Good day."

He disappeared through the door; Pollie, our escort, was nowhere to be found, so we sat down and continued eating until someone else came to order us about.

"But-but-but Nivan!" I whined to Greg, "I'm just so lazy, all I want to do is—"

"I said 'Good day!'" Greg yelled at me, and we both exploded into laughter. I hadn't managed to collect myself by the time the strangers entered the room and pulled us out separate ways.

The rest of the day consisted of a good deal of poking and slathering and unnecessary nudity and scrutiny and waxing and brushing and pulling and even a little crying. The team of three had finally left me alone long enough to take a good breath when a woman practically danced her way up to the chair in which I'd collapsed.

"Hello, Mayrose," She sang, completely unshaken by my lack of clothing. "My name is Layla, and I am your stylist."

"Hi," I mumbled, pulling my sore, raw body as far away from her as possible.

"Oh don't worry, honey, most of the painful stuff is over. But you know what they say about beauty and pain!" She shouted, spinning away to a table and back to me.

I really didn't know what they said, and I really didn't know who they were. But Layla didn't seem to care enough to explain.

"Now, I'd prefer if we kept the talking to a minimum, but I had to speak with you. I hear you're pretty good with a spear." I looked up at her curiously, we hadn't even begun training yet… how could see even know that?

"So let's say," She walked back to her table and found a red apple. "I were to put this apple on this table, right here, and I were to give you a spear. Would you be able to knock this apple off, without harming my pretty little table."

I furrowed my eyebrows at her, and she was by my side within seconds, handing me a spear. "I suppose I could, maybe… why?"

"Prove it," She ordered. I pulled back my arm, releasing the wood at the appropriate angle, and we watched as the spear knocked the apple off the table. The end of the shaft, however, clattered against the back of the table.

She starred for a moment, and then looked back at me. "Good enough… ladies!" Her shrill voice was most certainly heard through the entire building and the team was back, draping me in some kind of camouflage loincloth.

Oh, the originality is just palpable.

-LATER-

Greg's skin was perfectly tanned and covered in oil; I couldn't refrain from smiling at the tight camouflage pants they'd stuck him in. His hair was spiked and colored to look like grass, and naturally, his face was painted brown. Then I remembered something not so funny.

I was wearing the same thing.

It wasn't comforting to know that all my friends, and all the people I respected, and the few that respected me, would see my prancing around a chariot barely covered in a slinky rag. It would be the first time they'd seen me since the Reaping.

I hope they knew it was all the Capitol, and that it wasn't me. I was still Mayrose.

Suddenly, Layla was by our sides, "My kids, oh you just look so fantastic!"

Nivan, who'd silently followed, grunted his approval. Layla shot him a glance, but deemed him unworthy of her attention. "Anyway," she continued, "You can do whatever the hell you want, talk to each other, wave to the people—I just have two rules. You do not want to break these rules, right, Nivan?"

"Yes, you do not." Nivan deadpanned.

"Do not take off your clothes," She rolled her eyes, and I felt anger swelling in my chest. Did she honestly think we were that barbaric that we would embarrass ourselves like that in front of the entire population of Panem? Stupid bitch. "And when the Chariot passes the last of the TVs, Mayrose is going to throw her spear at this apple on your head." She paused, placing the apple in the stiff nest of Greg's hair. "And straight onto the target behind you."

I gaped and Greg was silent. "Seriously?" I asked. Is this woman crazy?

"Yes, seriously." She said, exasperated. Nivan and her left without saying goodbye and I knew why people hated Capitolites. In fact, I'd joined them.

I looked over at Greg. "I trust you." He shrugged, "I've seen you with a spear before, at least you're the one throwing the weapon, and not Alicia Vantures."

We both laughed at Alicia's expense, "Oh my apple man."

He frowned at me, "Please don't do that again."

"Do what again?" I smiled, feigning ignorance.

"Make a joke that bad."

I paused for a minute, pretending to review our conversation: "I didn't make any jokes."

"Apple man? Appleman? As in my last name." He shook his head at me.

"What a coincidence!" I exclaimed, "I just called you that!"

"Ha ha, May. It's ridiculous how funny you are." He said sarcastically and I beamed at him in response.

"Thank you!"

He grabbed hold of my hand and gave it a friendly squeeze, as a man shouting into a microphone gestured at us to follow him. We climbed into a grand chariot, adorned with a cursive nine, and I gripped onto my spear nervously.

We were steered into the massive crowd, and I smiled as hard as I could and as long as I could until we'd finally reached that last TV.

Let's just say, fortunately, Greg's still got his head.

HEY EVERYONE! Sorry for the wait! I have a few quick notes. I had finals, so I didn't have time to update, unfortunately. I will try to update again tomorrow because I'm leaving for work and well… I probably won't get much writing done (I'm working at a sleepaway camp). I also realized you couldn't see my time-shift lines, so now it's –LATER- and A BIG SHOUTOUT TO MY BETA KID ON FANFICTION. What a great kid. :D Thanks for reading; I hope you liked it! Please leave a review!