Opening Ceremony
It's a white tube and I seeing it, I raise my eyebrows in puzzlement.
"Body-hugging," the stylist twinkles at me. "The way I prefer to wear it." Again she points to her own body and I catch her phrase from before – the phrase I misinterpreted. "I want to show that you have nothing to hide and that you feel comfortable with who you are. I've already heard from your mentors that you're sure you'll win?"
I nod. "There's no other option."
"Good," she continues curtly. "The color white represents your innocence. You've already been in an arena through no fault of your own. You made it out unscathed when you were a baby. And that background makes you strong as a participant in the Games. That's why you have that shiny makeup. You will stand out because you're you, not through some over-the-top costume! Do you understand me?"
Her voice is so insistent that I can only nod. Wordlessly, I accept the dress and put it on. The preparation team helps me so that I don't accidentally smear my makeup on the fabric. When I look at myself in the mirror again afterwards, I really like myself. The outfit is simple, it doesn't scream Capitol. Still, the cut and color clearly distinguish it from what we would wear in District 5. I avert my eyes from the mirror and ask the stylist about my outfit's connection to my district.
"Power," she said in a monotone voice. "Aren't your power plants white?" I realize she clearly designed the dress with me as a person rather than my district in mind. Somehow it flatters me and I give her a grateful look.
Tic's outfit isn't nearly as thoughtful as mine. Rather, his plain suit has been tailored to fit my dress. He's wearing white like me, but he is less heavily made up. The gold of my eyes is echoed in his outfit in the form of the gold shirt and a no less shiny pair of shoes. How my stylist – her name is Obethia, by the way, as I could tell from the prep team's disappointed comments about the simplicity of my dress – was able to get Tic's team excited about this unspectacular-for-the-Capitol duo is beyond me. She must be tougher than she looks.
Tic climbs onto the chariot assigned to District 5 for the parade first. It is painted matte black, which not only makes it resemble the train that brought us to the Capitol, but also makes it stand out clearly against our clothing. It is pulled by gray and white speckled horses with white manes.
When I also put a foot in the wagon and pull myself in, Tic moves aside. He is probably still afraid that I will cut his throat in a few days. However, I can do no more than assure him that he is safe from me. Therefore, I ignore his fearful looks, stretch my back, and let my eyes roam the hall.
It's the first time I see the other tributes in the flesh. Dressed in colorful clothing, most of them are standing by their wagons with their heads together with their mentors. Now, however, as I look down at them from my cart, some look up. I earn fearful looks, but equally hateful gestures. The boy from 4, who had already caught my eye on TV, spits in my direction on the ground and then grins broadly. I wink at him and, clearly confused, he turns to his mentor. After a brief heated conversation, he too mounts his cart and is now eye-to-eye with me. I would have laughed if all of this wasn't already part of the Games and the image I want to maintain is tough self-assurance. Therefore, I merely smirk mockingly.
Two chariots away from me, my gaze lingers on a pale man standing distractedly a little apart from two insecure looking tributes. He's one half of District 3's mentoring team, and I know him. Not personally, of course, but I know his name, I've seen his Games, and more often I've read about him in a textbook from school. It's Beetee Latier, a scientist and inventor by trade. The man whose victory gave me so much hope as a child. I smile to myself and my stomach tingles with excitement. As I wonder if I could run over to speak to him, the first chariot starts to move. I immediately turn my gaze to the gate through which the chariots will now roll out one by one into the city and then up to the presidential palace. Showtime.