I stand dressed in a gold colored dress. The front of it is short and the bakc of it flows down past my feet. The sleeves of the dress stop at my shoulders and a ribbon is wrapped around my arms and then it flows down with the rest of the dress. At the bottom of the front half of the dress are little pieces of grain, to repsent my district and a belt is wrapped around my waist. The collar of the dress is what i hate the most, it stand striaght out with little pieces of gain attached to it that dangels off of it. My hair is wrapped neatly in a bun on top of my head and the same type of material that is the collar is what ties my hair up.
I am relieved when I see Monty show up dressed in an identical costume. His stylist, Piper, and her team accompany him, and everyone is absolutely giddy with the excitement over how good we look. We're whisked down ot the bottom level of the Remake Center, which is a gigantic stable. The opening ceremonies are about to start. Pairs of tributes are being loaded into chariots pulled by teams od four horses. Ours are a light shade of brown. The animals are so well trained, no one even needs to guide their reins. Teak and Piper direct us into the chariot and carefully arrange our body positions, the drapes of our outfits, before they move to consult with each other.
The opening music begins. It's easy to hear, blessed around the Capitol. Massive doors slide open reavleaing the crowd-lined streets. The ride lasts about twenty minutes and ends at the City Circle, where they will welcome us, play the anthem, and escort us into the Training Center, which will be our home until the Games beings.
The tributes from District 1 ride out in a chariot pulled by snow-white horses. They looks so beautiful, spray-painted silver, in tasteful tunics glittering with jewels. District 1 makes luxury items for the Capitol. You can hear the roar of the crowd. They are always favorites.
District 2 gets into postiion to follow them. In no time at all, we are approaching the door and I can see that between the overcast sky and evening hour the light is turning gray. The tributes from District 8 are just rolling out when Teak appears wishing us luck, "Here we go then," he smiles at me as if sensign that I am nervous, "Remeber, heads high. Smiles. They're going to love you!"
He shouts something up at us, but the music drowns him out. He shouts again and gestures. "What's he saying?" Monty asks.
"I think he said for us to hold hands," I tell him. He grabs my right hand in his left, and we look to Teak for confirmation. He nods his head and gives a thumbs-up, and that's the last thing I see before we enter the city.
The crowd's initial alarm at our appearance quickly changes to cheers and shouts of "Distict Nine!" Every head is turned our way, pulling the focus from the three chariots ahead of us. At first, I'm frozen, but then I catch sight of us on a large television screen and am floored by how breathtaking we look. In the deepening twilight, the glod of our costume seems to glow. I lift my chin a bit higher, put on my most winning smile, and wave with my free hand. I'm glad now I have Monty to clutch for balance. As I gain confidence, I actually blow a few kisses to the crowd. The people of the Capitol are going nuts, showering us with flowers, shouting our names, which they bothered to find on the program.
The pounding music, the cheers, the admiration work their way into my blood, and I can't surpress my excitement. For the first time, I fell a flickers of hope rising up inside of me. Surely, there must be one sponsor willing to take me on. And with a little extra help, some food, tthe right weapon, why should I count myself out of the Games?
Someone throws me a red rose. I catch it, give it a delicate sniff, and blow a kiss back in the general direction of the giver. A hundred hands reach up to catch my kiss, as if it were a real and tangible thing.
"Ember! Ember!" I can hear my name being called from all sides. Everyone wants my kisses.
It's not until we enter the City Circle that I realize I must have completely stopped the circulation in Peeta's hand. That's how tightly I've been holding it. I look down at our linked fingers as I loosen my grasp, but he regains his grip on me. "No, don't let go of me," he says. The light bouncing off of his costume and illuniating his blue eyes. "Please. I might fall out of this thing."
"Okay," I say. So I keep holding on, but I can't help feeling strange about the way Teak has linked us together. It's not really fair to present us as a team and then lock us into the arena to kill each other.
The twelve chariots fill the loop of the City Circle. On the buildings that surround the Cicle, every window is packed with the most prestigious citizens of the Capitol. Our horses pull our chariots right up to President Snow's mansion, and we come to a halt. Soon after the rest of the districts follow behind until we are all gathered in the same spot. The music ends with a flourish.
The president, a small, thin man with paper-white hair, give the official welcome from the balcony above us. It is traditional to cut away to the faces of the tributes during the speech. But I can see on the screen that we are getting wya more than our share of airtime. When the national anthem palsy, they do make an effort to do a quick cut of eahc pair of tributes, but the camera holds on the District 9 chariots as it parades around the cicle one final time and disappears into the Training Center.
The doors have only just shut behind us when we are engulfed by the prep teams, who are nearly unintelligible as they bable our praise. As I glance around, I notice a lot of the other tributes are shooting us dirty looks.
I realize I am still glued to Monty and force my stiff fingers to open. We both massage our hands. "Thanks for keeping hold of me. I was getting a little shaky out there," says Monty.
"It didn't show," I tell him. "I'm sure no one noticed." And then he gives me a smile that seems so genuinely sweet with just the right touch of shyness that unexpected warth rushes through me.
The Training Center was a tower designed exclusively for the tributes and their teams. This will be out home until the actual Games begin. Each district has an entire floor. You simply step onto the elevator and press the number of your district. Easy enough to remember.
I've ridden the elevator a couple of times in the Justice building back home in Distict 9. Once to receive the medal for my father's death and then yesterday to say my final goodbyes to my mother. But that's a dark and creaky thing that moves like a snail and smells of sour milk. The walls of this elevator are made of crystal so that you can watch the people on the ground flood shrink to ants as you shoot up into the air. It's exhilarating and I'm tempted to ask Mica if we can ride again, but somehow that seems childish.
Apparently Mica's duties did not conclude at the station. She, Nolan, and Willow will be overseeing us right into the arena. In a way, That's a plus because at least she can be counted on to corral us aorund the place on time whereas we haven't seen our mentors since we arrived at the Capitol. Mica on the other hand seems to be flying high. We're the first team that she ever chaperoned that made a splash at the opening ceremonies. She's complementary about not just our costumes but how we conducted ourselves. And, to hear her tell it, Mica knows everyone in the Capitol and has been talking us up all day, trying to win us sponsors. Although lacking in many departments, Mica Blake has a certain dertermination i have to admire.
My quarters are larger than our entire house back home. Tehy are plush, like the train car, but also have so many automatic gadgets that I'm sure I won't have time to press all the buttons. The shower alone has a panel with more than a hundred options you can choose regulating water temperature, pressure, soaps, shampoos, scents, oils, and massasging sponges. When you step on the mat, heaters come one that blow-dries your body. Instead of struggling with the knots in my wet hair, I merely place my hand on the box that sends a current through my scalp, untangling, parting, and drying my hair almost instantly. It floats dwon around my shoulders in a glossy curtain.
I program the closet for an outfit to my taste. The window zooms in and out on parts of the city at my command. You need only whisper a type of food from a gigantic menu into a mouthpiece and it appears, hot and steamy, before you in less than a minute. I walk around the room eating goose liver and puffy bread until there's a knock on the door. Mica's calling me to dinner.
Monty, Teak, and Piper are standing out on the balcony that overlooks the Capitol wehn we enter the dining room. A silent young man dressed in a white tunic offers us all stemmed glasses of wine. I think about turning it down, but I've never had wine, except the homemade stuff my mother uses for coughs, and when will I get the chance to try it again? I take a sip of the tart, dry liquid and secretly think it could be improved by a few spoonfuls of honey.
After dinner we eat some of the cake and then move into the sitting room to watch the replay of the opening ceremonies that's being broadcast. A few of the other couples make a nice impression, but none of them can hold a candle to us. Even our own party lets out an "Ahh!" as they show us coming out of the Remake Center.
"Whose idea was the hand holding?" asks Nolan.
"Teak's," Piper tells him.
I wonder why this is important to him and then I realize that none of the other couples were holding hands. They all stood there stiffly apart, never touching or acknowledging each other, as if their fellow tribute did not exist, as if the Games had already begun, I know what Nolan was getting at. Presenting ourselves not as adversaries but as friends has distinguished us as much as the shiny gold costumes.