District 8: Twilla Weaver (13) Pov-

"Sweetie, you've got to keep still."

I hiss and clench my teeth as Tilsee yanks the wax strip off of my leg. Searing pain fires through my body, and I clench the side of the chair, trying to ignore the agony ringing through me. Tilsee adjusts the studio lights overhead. I feel like I'm in some kind of hospital.

"How's the Capitol life treating you?" Tilsee asks, reaching for another strip.

I wish she would just keep quiet; I'm in too much pain to be conversing with somebody. But I figure the longer I talk the more I can delay the next waxing. "Great."

"What do you like most, honey?"

I set my jaw and form my mouth into a solid line as if thinking hard. "The lights at night."

"Ah, those are beautiful," Tilsee says with a sigh. "On Halloween night, they light the city up with spooky orange lanterns. Great for trick or treating."

"Trick or treating?"

Tilsee laughs. "It's a thing kids do every year on Halloween night. They walk between houses and people give them candy."

This is just the millionth sign of how unfair our country is. I haven't eaten candy since I was eight and that was only because it was one of the rich kids' birthday at school.

"If you're comfortable with telling me," Tilsee mumbles, fitting the wax strip onto my leg. "What's your best weapon?"

Without warning, she yanks back the wax strip. I let out a little scream that makes the hairs on my neck stand up.

"Knife!" I say so loudly that everyone in the room stares at me curiously. Face feeling hot, I lower my voice. "Knife," I repeat. "I'll try to get my hands on one in the arena."

"Yeah. Let's just hope that none of the other tributes get to them first."

Tilsee speaks as she walks to the corner of the room to wash her hands. "How are you going to get sponsors, dear?"

"Huh?"

"Sponsors. They may not seem important at first, but it's very unlikely for an unpopular tribute to win the games," she explains.

"Just like middle school all over again," I mumble.

"What's that?"

"Nothing."

District 11: Adelia Faye (15) Pov-

I raise my arms high into the air, allowing Lynette to wrap the thick green felt around my body. She walks around me, making measurements and coiling the material around my torso like a mummy. All the while, she stares at me intently, smiling. That lady is creepy.

"Miracle!" Lynette calls. Her assistant pokes her head out of the adjacent room. Miracle's violent-orange locks are tied back in a ponytail, and she was a black apron smeared with dye and chunks of foam.

"Yes?"

"We need the vines! Only thirty minutes left!"

Miracle sprints into the back room and emerges with a cloth backpack. She kneels and unzips the pack, and I crane my neck to get a look at the contents. Miracle pulls a long snake out of the backpack. No, not a snake… a vine. She looks rather comedic as she pulls the endless cord-like green vine out of the pack. She brings one end to Lynette and then leaves the room.

Lynette pressed the end of the vine to my skin and begins wrapping it in circles. At first she makes a downward spiral, then upward so that the vines cross. Then she abandons all forms of coherent strategy and stretches the long vine crazily but snugly around my frame. I can hardly move or breathe.

I let out a sigh. The thought of wearing this stupid costume in front of thousands of people is unbearable to even think of. But then I think about what I have to go home to. Mom, Dad, Dariela, Atticus… thoughts of them push thoughts of everything else out of my mind. Maybe it's not the best idea to be longing for home when nothing is going to get me there except winning, but if it can power me through this hell then I don't have a problem with it.

District 2: Nero Ryker (18) Pov-

I'm lucky to have Zinc as my stylist. Ever since I was young he's been the stylist I've most admired. That's probably because he's done the looks for some of my favorite District 2 tributes of years past. There's only one word to describe him: cool. His long auburn hair is tied back in a ponytail and he knows the right time to crack jokes and make everyone laugh.

I sink down into the unfolded stretchy chair, trying not to let anything touch the parts of my body Zinc has already started applying makeup to. I crane my neck and watch as he fumbles with the lock of storage cabinet. He finally gets it open and pulls out a few colors of dye.

Zinc kneels beside me and fills his spray brush with orange color. The cool paint tickles in a pleasant way as it brushes against my skin. Before long, Zinc is molding together oranges and reds in patterns I can't help but smile at.

"What are you trying to make?" I ask.

"Brick designs," he answers, wiping sweat from his forehead. "I talked with the other District 2 stylist. Jaehaera will have them too."

Zinc sprays my leg with a setting spray to keep the paint from peeling off. As he waits for everything to dry, my wanders toward what the rest of my experience will be life.

I picture the training center, with carts of weapons and the gamemakers peering in from overhead like visitors at a zoo. I imagine myself with the other careers, gazing around and the other tributes and picking out ones to kill in the bloodbath.

The arena comes into view. It's hard to form a complete picture in my mind because I don't have the slightest clue as to what it'll be like, but the one thing that has been consistent in nearly every Hunger Games is the ring of pedestals surrounding the cornucopia.

A sensation washes over me that I have this thing entirely under control.

District 12: Hopper Vigo (12) Pov-

Little yelps of panic are heard as the District 12 prep team speeds around the room. The tribute parade begins in two minutes. The perfect time for mischief. Everyone is so distracted that nobody notices me slip out of the room.

I bury the pickaxe from my chariot outfit into the wall of the nearest building, using it to hoist myself farther and farther upward…

Dun dun duuuuun! Chariot rides are next.

Question 1: What weapon will Twilla try to get her hands on in the arena?

Question 2: What color hair does Nero's stylist Zinc have?