Chapter 3: The Tribute Parade

The Capitol

The train arrives in the Capitol a few hours later. I hold the pearl bracelet clenched in my fist, walking past all the cheering citizens lining the path from us to grand Training Center. The bubblegum-colored buildings don't compare to the sea of highlighter and marker-hued outfits.

"District Four for the win!" someone screams.

A lot of others cheer, and Bale grins, waving at them.

I must seem terrified. I want them to look away, and just not pay attention. I'm hoping they'll walk away soon.

But, no. They follow us until we enter the Training Center. Someone even reaches out to touch my arm. These people look at us like celebrities, like we're already Victors. I'm guessing any one of them wants to be able to say, "I touched the arm of the Victor!"

I breathe a sigh of relief once we're in the building. Our Mentors - Finnick for Bale and Emma for me - and Summer go with us in an elevator to a floor below. As we step into the elevator, I glance through the windows at the cityscape, watching as fountains bubble in the distance and people mull around, each ensemble looking more colorful and outrageous than the next. The elevator doors slide shut, leaving me to my thoughts.

I may not see the whole city from our District's apartment floor, just four floors up. In my opinion, District 12 getting the penthouse is odd. Their District mines, yet they're at the top of the Training Center. Not that I care. But, they do have a view of the mountains. Some people say that you can see District 5 from the roof.

We don't go to the District apartments, though. I look around the hallway that's decorated with Panem art and lit wall sconces, confused. "What're we doing here?"

Bale looks at me funnily. "Don't you remember from school? We go to our prep team and stylist's first."

I nod. "I forgot. The Tribute Parade."

After my prep team - Angus, Hera, and Vonix - all rinse my skin several times, they admire their work. I now have a perfect look, according to Capitol standards, as Angus said several times, implying, of course, that this means the correct standards. My hair is brushed and silky, my skin is smooth, the arm bandage is gone, and my eyebrows are plucked. My teeth even feel whiter. The normal scent of salt I'm so used to because of days spent on the ocean is gone. Instead, I smell of fresh mint and some flowery scent I can't place.

Vonix, a woman with knee-length, purple curls, and a pink tutu smiles. "I'll go get Mirarora!"

I do nothing but swallow. Hera gives my makeup some final details - extra glitter, a dab of light-pink blush, and pearl colored lipstick. She double-checks my hair which is done up in twists, a complicated design that runs from the top of my head on the left, and sweeps over to the right. Sticking out in a dramatic wave are white coral branches.

Soon, they leave, and a tall woman with red hair, a purple pantsuit studded with gold spikes, and blue, five-inch heels walks into the room. "I'm Mirarora, your stylist."

I stare at her, blinking my blue eyes.

She walks out without waiting for a reply, and soon returns with a silvery clothing bag. She unzips it, showing a gown, and then makes me change from my Capitol-issued robe into the dress while she goes and retrieves the shoes. When I face the mirror, I try not to say how much I love my reflection. I've never worn anything this delicate, this beautiful.

My gown is tiered at the hem, falling down in ombre waves of sea-like colors and a pale, sunlight white... like the crashing tides. Pearls outline every piece of the gown along with little shells. More branches of coral, these adorned with sapphire, topaz and rubies, are on the side of my hips. I look like I'm part of the sea.

Shoes click in the hallway before Mirarora sashays back into the room carrying gladiator sandals. "Well?" she asks. "Is your outfit fabulous or more fabulous? Actually, what's your name?"

I turn from my reflection, facing her. "My name is Sea-Pearl."

She smiles. "Well, Sea-Pearl, I hope you live through the Hunger Games."

I give the chariot horse a pat. "You're much better company than everyone else I've met here so far," I say to him.

"Wow, that stung a bit."

I turn a bit to find Bale looking slightly insulted by my comment. He's dressed in a swirling blue-and-green, sleeveless cloak that's covered in gold flakes and diamonds like the shimmer of the sun on the ocean. To complete the outfit he has a basket of seashells. The outfit looks nice on him, showing off his broad shoulders and muscular arms. He looks exactly like a volunteer Tribute.

"Hi," I say, somewhat sarcastically.

He scrunches his nose up, like he's trying to figure out what to respond with. "You're not like many of the other Tributes from our District."

I turn my face towards the chariot horse, stroking the creature's coarse mane. "There's a reason for that. Point is, I don't want to be here. I'm not like you all, I didn't pay to be trained for this. I don't like the Hunger Games."

He walks up beside me, patting the horse's ear. "I never said I did as well. Why don't you?"

I frown, trying not to cry. The instinct hits me as I imagine my family back home, possibly going to watch me die on television just like all the years of my life I've watched the Games. But not only that. I still remember why, each and every start of the Hunger Games. I don't know why I start telling him. "Do you remember Marley? A District Four Tribute from a few years ago?

He nods. "Of course, he was a favorite to win. She was in the final three."

"She was my cousin," I say, forcing my voice to be still.

He's quiet for a moment. Then, "I'm sorry. I didn't know she was your cousin."

I don't move my eyes from the chariot horse. "I don't think many people did. She was my only cousin, anyways. When we watched in the cafeteria at school, people were upset, of course, and some cried. No one said anything to me. The principal called my mother, and I left early with my siblings."

Bale starts to say something, but trumpet flare distracts us. Suddenly, we're being forced up onto the chariot and, seconds later, the massive doors ahead of us open.

Our chariot gives a lurch, and I swallow, butterflies erupting in my stomach. I stand there for a moment, watching the screen near us as the Tribute Parade begins.

District 1 outshines all of us. Literally. They are both dripping in gems, waving. I look out across the crowd as the chariot moves along past the doors and rolls along the lane. Clutching the side of the chariot, I feel embarrassed when I see us on the monitors lining the street.

Bale grins at the crowd, cheering. I look like a tiny child, just standing there...

I try to smile, and even catch a teddy bear thrown our way. I pretend I am in District 4 with my family, waving to the crowd that would be outside the train for when I won the Hunger Games. But, that can't hide the fact that so many of these people at the City Circle are more than happy to watch me die. In fact... they're excited.

When the Tribute chariots stop, President Snow stands atop a balcony. I stare up at the man, a rose just visible in his lapel. He looks so much less intimidating in person than on screen.

He gives a speech, calling us brave as if we should take it as a compliment, and finally dismisses us.

Stepping off the chariot, I dash my way to the Training Center, and sit down on the couch once I'm back on our floor.

I end up screaming at Emma and Finnick when they show me on TV. I'm just mad at myself because I acted so terrified for most of the Tribute Parade. It seems ridiculous now, considering I was supposed to just stand and smile. Even if I did grin a little, I'm outshone by Bale. In my fit of anger, I throw a vase at the TV screen. Emma gasps, and glass rains down on the floor, mingling with the shattered vase.

I don't watch where I'm walking, but the sharp stabs in my feet tell me I've stepped onto the clear television pieces. I make it down the hall without crying, but when I get to my room, I fling myself onto the bed, ripping the coral branches from my hair, and let out the tears until I can't anymore. I've never done anything like that. I've never gotten gotten that violent before when I'm angry.

Feeling weary, I find the pearl bracelet from my sister.

After a while, someone comes in - an Avox. She bandages my feet, gauze keeping them wrapped. Then, she leaves to clean up the TV pieces.

The last thing I remember is falling asleep holding the pearl bracelet.