Disclaimer: I don't own MLB! But I do appreciate all of you that read and follow this story c:

・。・゜ ・。・。 ・

Chapter 7

Adrien offered his hand to his district partner but he didn't think that she would keep holding his hand. He accepted it regardless, guiding her to the back of the train. As they made their way to the back, he could see the familiar streets of the Capitol getting closer. He even noticed a large poster of himself selling a line of men's cologne. Advertisements were an everyday part of his life. The flashing lights, the buildings that were so high they looked like they could touch the clouds, the sound of the city with people talking and music and speakers with announcements so loud that he could hear them through the metal walls of the train. All of that was background noise to him, something he had easily become accustom to.

It was only when they paused in the last train car that he noticed Marinette's discomfort. He squeezed her hand and that caught her attention "Hey.." He said calmly, his voice was louder than the noise, but gentle "Nervous?"

She shook her head and played with the edge of her shorts "No, well, kinda. It's just so loud here." She looked around the walls of the train. They would only block the noise for a little while longer.

He smiled and held her one hand in both of his own "Not going to lie, it's going to be way louder out there."

"Adrien…" The teen girl gave him an incredulous look "That isn't very comforting."

"Hang on, let me finish." He paused, waiting for her permission to continue "Okay, it's going to just get so much louder out there but, you have to just block it out. Most of what you're hearing is just background noise. Trust me when I say that I can understand how overwhelming it can get. One time I was suppose to present an award at a university. It was some graduate scholarship my father was giving out. Anyways, all I could hear was the clapping and talking and the speakers blaring from the announcements and the heat from the lights and I ended up throwing up and Nathalie had to present the award for me."

With her free hand, Marinette brought her hand up to cover her mouth, a giggle still escaped "Seriously?"

"Yes, and since I am certainly that you have a bit more of an iron stomach than I do, I am positive that we can make it ten minutes across the train station to the Chariot Building. Just smile and try answering the easy questions you get asked."

With a deep breath of air to fill her lungs, she nodded "Alright, I'll try."

Adrien could hear and see the train pulling up to it's stop "Good timing. We're here."

The tribute train began coming to a halt. The Capitol's biggest fans crowded the station. The only solitude Marinette could see was that two roped off sections with security officers -oddly enough rather than Peacekeepers- posted every 20 feet or so. Across the way was another train marked with the District 12 symbol coal miner hats and pickaxes. She could only imagine that their own train had a needle and thread on it's side. They had their own second roped off section and guards and if she peeked her head towards the glass enough, she could see where the building Adrien had been talking about was. The roped sections met before heading off into the large doorway.

She had still been looking out the window, when the train door was opened. The blinding white light caught her off guard and she stood at the entrance of the train, holding Adrien's hand. Her blue eyes had to adjust to the light, the flash of the cameras, the excited roar of the crowd. It was all just so loud, she couldn't hear herself think. Her district partner squeezed her hand and tugged her forward. They walked down the ramp and the train closed behind them. The clank rebounded in her ears. The last thought she had before the crowd seemingly engulfed her was that she hoped Tikki meant what she said by taking care of her family picture.

They didn't let go of each other's hands as they came down the ramp. The model's hand got a little sweaty, but she hardly minded. She enjoyed the comfort of holding onto something to keep her steady. Reporters and fans lined the ropes, eager to get pictures and video. Microphones were extended to them, asking questions. They ranged from 'Marinette, how does it feel to have a supermodel as a district partner?' to 'Ms. Dupain, do you feel like your partner has an unfair advantage?'

A little stunned, she passed on answering the first questions that came sailing by her head faster than any weapon possibly could. The fight in the arena was looking much more a appealing by the second. The way to the building looked a lot longer with a crowd of a thousand faces and cameras turned their way. Adrien didn't let her go, keeping her fingers laced together. She couldn't imagine how much worse this experience could be if he wasn't the one by her side, keeping her grounded.

They continued walking and more questions turned to their matching outfits, to which Marinette answered "It was an accident!" Then there came a giggle and she was finding herself more at ease and was easily able to add "Seems like great minds think alike, but fashion minds dress alike."

That had gotten her some positive attention. People were laughing. News crews were following the two of them walking, asking her small questions about herself, her home life. She had to repeat answers to some questions but she didn't take any mind to it. All the noise of the city, the flash of the cameras, it was quickly melting into the background. Adrien had been right, it was all background noise. If she was honest with herself, she was enjoying the limelight. Even if in the back of her head, she had a nagging reminder that she only had 15 minutes in the spotlight and then it'd been taken away.

The doubt in the back of her mind couldn't bother her right now. She felt oddly good at the moment. She never found herself really craving the attention of a crowd, but she was immersed in a world that she had always dreamed of. In her world, perhaps in a past life, she saw herself as a fashion designer. She saw herself as an influential person, running a business, working hard for hours upon hours to meet a deadline. To stay up late the night before a show to perfect the last stitches and adjustments to models, all wearing her line. Whether it was summer, fall, winter, spring, the season didn't matter to her. All that ever made a difference was she could change a person's entire appearance with just pieces of fabric.

Adrien was quiet beside her. If she hadn't been so easily consumed, she might have noticed his discomfort. With all her idle chatter and stopping here and there to take pictures with the fans, she had slowed down their progress remarkably. The other two tributes from 12 had to wait to enter with them into the building. Noticing that, she waved goodbye to the reporters and fans (not her fans of course, just Game fans). She and the tall blond who hadn't let go of her hand the entire time met up with the other tributes.

The girl rose her brow up, the beauty mark on her forehead accentuated the gesture "Took you long enough. You enjoy your time in the limelight?"

The black haired girl had the decency to blush "Sorry, I just kinda got caught up talking with people. I really didn't think everyone here would be so nice."

She seemed amused enough, placing her hand on her cocked out hip, which had a nice swell to it "Welcome to the Capitol. If you haven't noticed but our whole blood, sweat, and tears deal let's everyone here be nice. My mama and two sisters sure as hell wouldn't have to deal with my sass if I lived here. Isn't that right pretty boy?" She adjusted the glasses that sat on the bridge of her nose if only to pointed show that her gaze had shifted to the Agreste boy.

She could feel him freeze and see an embarrassed blush brighten on his cheeks.

"Nothing to say? Figures. Daddy probably paid you enough to keep your dumb blond mouth shut. How much are you getting out of this?"

"Hey! Don't talk to him like that!" She took a half step forward towards the girl.

"Girl, don't play with me. Whether your family is getting paid or not to do this little show, doesn't matter. Aren't you mad?! Look at him! Look at this shit show and he's just drinking it in because he knows that he's daddy's little boy-"

That's when she let go of his hand. She marched right up to the girl. They were about the same height, but that didn't stop the two of them from trying to puff their chest out more. She could feel the cameras on her and deadly silence of the station "He's not! He's my friend!"

Perhaps it was the steely look in her eyes. Maybe it was how she could just see Adrien's hand shake without his district partner to hold it. Something about it told her an all too real story "Y… Your friend?"

"He got picked just the same as us! He's just as much from 8 as I am! And I'll remind you that his mother was among the first of us so before you go spouting off about shit you don't know about him, check your facts." Satisfied that she had spoken her mind well enough, she turned back to her old friend, extending a hand out to him "Come on, let's go Adrien."

From the crowd, something broke the silence: clapping.

As Adrien, who was looking up at Marinette like she was the world, climbed up the steps to her and took her hand, the crowd cheered loudly. The station echoed with applause and amazed the two friends.

The girl with glasses was taken aback. She had never been met with someone who could throw her off course in just one go. Her district partner had to pat her shoulder in order to get her moving towards the guards who stood in front of the doors to the chariot building.

The guards allowed the four of them to pass through, opening the doors for them to step into. The trains left the station, horns blaring as they did. The crowds cheered. No other trains followed in after they had. It seemed that they were the last two districts to enter the chariot building, which made enough sense. District 8 and 12 shared a border and were the furthest away from the Capitol. And what a final train session it had been. The doors closed behind them, leaving them in the dark for a moment before the hall lights turned on.

The walls were colored in cream and the halls extended out in a T shape. Sitting on benches on either side of them were four people. From their clothes, there was no way to tell that they were Capitol citizens. They were dressed in all black, like stagehands would but from the gleam of the eyes and the wear of their hands, Marinette knew that these would be their stylist.

They each had white cards in their hands, but before the seamstress could try to decipher what was on it, her district partner was tackled and pulled into the arms of one of the stylists "Adrien! You're safe!" He kissed the teen's cheeks, praising the gods.

The supermodel used his height and long arms to push the man to a distance "Vincent, please. I just went on a train ride."

"Well, I know that. But look at where you are mon cher! Oh, I get dizzy just thinking about it. You! In the Games!" He put his wrist to his forehead "Now, now." He took a breath, relaxing his over excited nerves. He turned back to the other stylists, the three of them getting over the shock of Vincent's sudden run to the tribute. He gestured over to the smallest of them, a girl with rainbow colored hair, all tied back with a pink bandana "Mylene, come here. This one is yours," He pointed to Marinette.

The mini sized stylist approached her, holding her hand out to shake Marinette's "I'm Mylene."

"Marinette." She addressed her, shaking her hand.

Mylene held up her white card, her name branded on it "Oh, I know. We've been waiting for you." Suddenly, she turned the handshake into a sharp pull, tugging her off the the right side of the hall to the door "Come now, we have a lot to do to get you ready for the Parade."

"Uh, wait, what about-" She looked back to Adrien, who was getting pulled along by his own stylist to the left side of the hall. Their eyes met and they were being pulled apart and it was just like three years ago and she felt a welt of anxiety come with it. It didn't help that the District 8 girl was being guided along behind her into the room with her make up artist.

She soothed her "He's with Vincent. The boys are all taken on the left." She opened the door for them, pulling her through and cutting off her vision of her friend "Besides, me and Vincent have already talked about a great plan to get the two of you looking perfect for the ride. Something no one has ever done before!"

She spotted the sketchbook in the other girl's hands and felt more at ease. She could see the designs peeking out of the notebook, with swatches of fabric as well. It reminded her of her own pink notebook that she had to leave at home with all of her other belongings "What did you have in mind?" She asked, curious mind piqued into finding out what Mylene and Vincent had planned for her.

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Two hours of being plucked, preened, showered in water so hot it turned her skin pink, and then shaved were the worst of it. There wasn't a hair left on her from her panty line down. Her pits and leg hair had been lasered off. According to Anansi -a sub stylist of Mylene's team- that her hair would start growing back months after the Games were over, that is, if she made it. Otherwise, she really shouldn't worry. Anansi was a towering female and the way she talked about Marinette and the other contestants left her to feel like she thought of them as little dolls that she was just playing dress up with. She was glad that Mylene didn't leave her for very long alone in her care. The rest of her team was relatively nice and made the more painful parts of the progress easy.

She hadn't enjoyed the previous hours of her skin being rubbed raw and clean and then moisturized, but she had plenty of fun with the time afterwards.

Mylene was pleasant, liked bits of idle chatter, but mostly did her work in silence. She sat across the tribute at her work desk, sewing like a madman while her team busied themselves working on her nails and treating her hair to a deep clean. Marinette didn't think of herself as being very dirty, but with all the grim they were peeling off of her, she was being to think that she was wrong.

If she was thankful for one thing, it was that Adrien and the other boys had been separated into different rooms. It seemed like all of the stylists prefered their models naked until they were sure that they were ready to put on their costumes. She had kept on a brave face in front of the very much grown gorgeous model and friend, she had to remind herself of that. But she didn't know if she could handle seeing him naked, or worse: him seeing her stripped down and bare as she was.

When her hair and nails, which were painted a soft pink, were dried, Mylene finally allowed her to put on a robe. The fluffy white feel felt like heaven on her abused skin. She was also allowed out of the chair that they had been doing most of the prep work in and she could go join the other tribute girls in the vibrating chairs. She wasn't exactly sure what the purpose of a vibrating chair was, but 'try something at least once' was certainly a motto of hers.

She sat down, finding buttons all up and down the arms of the chair. She was just about to press a button to try it when one was pressed for her by a manicured nail.

The chair's back started to move against her and she nearly jumped out of it with a yelp of surprised. The same hand caught her shoulder before she could move out of the chair "Slow your roll and relax." She eased her back into the chair. Gentle balls pressed into her back and it actually felt nice. That's when she caught the face of the District 12 girl. She hadn't noticed it before but her hazel eyes were quite large and inquisitive behind her black rimmed glasses. Those eyes were pinning her down with a look she didn't understand right off the bat "The chairs are a little complicated, but hell, we might as well enjoy it, ya know?" She chuckled. She took the seat beside Marinette, her fingers tapping restlessly on the arm, like she was trying to find the right words "So... sorry about earlier. I didn't mean to call you guys out like that. Well, I did mean to call out Agreste, but, like you said, I want to get my facts straight." She sat up in her chair. She hadn't even bothered to turn it on at all. The way she sat towards her and the way she held her hands against the arm of the chair, she could see this girl in another life with a pad and pen in hand "So I wanna know, how did you and Adrien become friends so fast on the train? Why do you believe he's not just doing this for his dad or for the show?"

She chewed on the inside of her lip. Would it be alright to divulge to this nameless girl? She didn't know her at all. Then again, did it matter if she didn't? Surely others would soon figure it out enough and tell the whole world regardless "I didn't just meet Adrien on the train." She confessed. Fuck it, might as well "I met him three years ago before his mother disappeared. We became friends. I know him, so when I say that he's not doing this for the money or fame or whatever else, it's true. He doesn't even like talking to live audiences. He's probably just as scared out of his mind same as we are. I know I am."

"Scared huh?" She looked like she would be chewing on the end of the pen if she could "That's funny. I don't think in the 25 years of the Games that I've ever heard someone admit that they're afraid."

She shrugged "Because there's nothing very memorable about being afraid."

"No way! Admitting it just makes you so much stronger." Her hand came up to squeezed her forearm "I wish I was brave enough to do that. You know, ever since I got on the train, I promised myself that I wouldn't try to make friends on this. But here I am, talking to you already because I don't know how to keep my stupid mouth shut. And now it kinda sucks that you're cool."

When Marinette smiled, it was infectious "You think I'm cool? No way. I thought everyone in my class was just losing it. You aren't allowed to too." Back home, she had lots of friends, good friends. She didn't mean to, it always just sort of happened. Every year she ended up in a class full of people she either never meant or didn't really know, and a few weeks into class and they would all hang out on the weekends. Less and less of her time went into hanging out with her friends ever since she started working, but she still spoke with everyone in class regardless.

"I'll be the judge of that!" She finally backed down, leaning back into her seat and fiddling with some of the settings "Your name's Marinette, right?"

She nodded "Yea, what's yours?"

"Alya. Alya Cesaire." Just then, her stomach growled "Heh, sorry. I haven't eaten since last night. I was too nervous this morning to stomach anything."

The black haired girl agreed "Yea. I hardly ate ether."

Beside the two tributes, a silver platter was brought between them, holding macaroons. She looked up to see the bright orange eyed avox from the train holding them up for her. Marinette took a green one from the plate "Thank you."

With her free hand, she touched her forehead and waved her hand in front of her face until her hand was underneath her chin.

Her brow rose up, unsure what that hand movement meant.

Alya sat up in her seat, her mouth half full of a macaroon. Her hands came up, pointing to the avox "You know how to sign?" She pointed her index fingers together and twirled them around each other.

The avox followed up by curling her hand into a ball and nodding it as if she was knocking on a door.

Marinette looked to Alya "Wait, so you can talk to her? How do you know sign language?"

"Sure I can. My father went deaf at a youth age and one of my younger sisters was born deaf. It's also pretty useful inside of the mines. The machines can get really loud sometimes. And since my dad's a foreman there, everyone around the Seam kind of picked it up. It's pretty nifty." The dark skinned girl turn to the avox, waved to her then pointed to herself, placed her middle and index fingers together on both hands and tapped them together before she held one hand out to her. Her hand tucked into a loose ball, then she opened up her index and thumb to form an 'L', then her index finger went down in place of holding her pinkie out instead before she returned it to the same position she had started in.

The baker's daughter watched with avid interest. She of course knew of sign language, but had never seen it in practice.

The avox set down the platter of macarons on a table several feet behind them before coming back. She repeated Alya's hands, pointing to herself and tapping her middle and index fingers together before she signed something completely different.

Alya, thankfully, recited it aloud for her "J- U- L- E- K- A. Juleka? It's nice to meet you and thank you for the food." She tapped her chin before bringing it out to her.

The dark haired avox, who she now knew as Juleka smiled softly and held one hand in a fist, drew a circle above it with her index and middle finger and then tapped her fist.

Curiosity struck the non signer "What'd she say?"

Before Alya could reply, Juleka hands moved. She pointed to Marinette, then tapped the edge of her hand on the curve of her thumb twice, she then put her fists, one on top of each the other, twisting them inwards, finally she pointed to Alya turning her hands back into fists, fingers pointed towards each other. Her index fingers pointed out, and then she rotated her hand.

The other tribute giggled. Marinette was at a loss of words, completely out of the language group, so she looked to the other speaking girl.

Rolling her eyes, she translated "At first she just said 'Of course', but when you asked what she said, she signed that 'You're going to get on my nerves if I keep having to translate for you.'"

She had the decency to pink "Sorry!"

She shrugged "You're all good girl." Out of the corner of her glasses, she caught her stylist waving her over. She stood up and stretched her arms over her head "Looks like the show's calling for me." Alya took a step back in the direction of her team, when the District 8 tribute called back out to her.

"Hey, I'll see you later?" She asked, her eyebrow raised. The silent question of 'Should we talk later?' was also raised. In about two weeks, they'd be entering the arena. Sure, allies could be good but the Games always had a written understanding that they wouldn't last for long.

While Alya paused, she seemed to be weighing the options. She shrugged "We'll see what fate has in store for us. Bye Marinette. Bye Juleka."

The two of them watched her leave before Juleka held her hand out to her tribute to escort her back to Mylene to see what was in the world she had planned for her outfit.

How did you guys like it? I'm no expert on ASL at all, but I hope I portrayed it in a way everyone could understand and followed an accurate way a conversation in that language would play out.