Opening Ceremonies

You didn't expect a pink dress. You didn't expect the yellow eye shadow. You definitely didn't expect your hair to be done up in curls and dyed a strawberry blonde. You stared at yourself in the mirror, taking in the mascara, the lipstick, the blush, and wondered who you were looking at. Cinna appeared behind you.

"What does this have to do with coal mining?" you asked. He smiled.

"I thought you'd never ask." He reached into his pocket and pulled out what looked like a magazine article, folded a few times to make it small. He opened it and handed it to you, and your eyebrows raised in surprise. You'd never seen this before.

"Who are they?" you asked, running your hand over the picture. There was a woman wearing the exact same dress you were, her hair done up and dyed the same, and her make up matched yours to a tee. You could be twins. Beside her was a man dressed in what looked like a brown, corduroy suit with a tie as red as the lipstick that outlined the woman's gleaming white teeth. The man's hair was the same color as Peeta's, so nothing would be done to it. You were jealous of him, having had been fond of your dark brown locks. "And when do I get my hair back?" Cinna smiled at you again.

"It will fade," he said and then took the picture back. "It's from 1955. Mr and Mrs Locke. They ran the mines in your district back then. Very famous, very wealthy people."

"What happened to them?"

"The same thing that happens to all who dare to have more power than the Capitol." Cinna said, placing the picture back in his pocket. He didn't need to go on, you understood: they were killed.

"Will we be lit on fire this year?" you asked. Cinna laughed.

"No." He turned and grabbed a pair of white gloves from the table behind him. When he was facing you again, he gestured for your hands. "That was Katniss's debute. I want to show you off how you come off."

"How do I come off?" you asked defensively, allowing him to slip the gloves on your hands. You were fascinated by the texture which felt like silk, but wasn't quite. You stared at them and they were almost see through; if you didn't know any better, you'd say you were wearing a sheet of glass. Cinna interrupted your thoughts.

"Shy," he said, tilting his head as he looked at you, "Timid. Passionate."

"What do you mean 'passionate? I'm not passionate." You rolled your eyes and looked away, embarrassed at the thought.

"It's all in your eyes," he said and you looked back at him. "You love somebody, and I can tell." You blushed.
"No I don't," you lied.

"It's not a bad thing," he said, "it sets you apart from those who, well, mask it. Like Katniss." You made a noise that was a cross between a laugh and a cry of disgust. He opened his mouth to continue, but you interrupted.

"She doesn't mask it," you snapped, looking away and down at the floor. "She's falling all over him every time they're together." Cinna stepped forward, put a hand under your chin and raised your head. He smiled at you.

"I wasn't talking about Peeta," he said. Your cheeks flushed, and you knew that he knew you loved him. You smiled uneasily. He patted you on the shoulder as a light buzzing noise erupted near his ear, and he stood silent for a moment, listening. His eyes flickered over to you when he was done.

"It's time," he said and your heart sank. You were enjoying talking to him. "Are you ready?" You shook your head and he smiled sympathetically, offering his hand. You took it silently and he walked with you to the giant doors that would soon open into the Capitol building's largest room. When he let go of your hand, you looked at him so quickly that you were sure your neck had snapped in the process.

"Where do I go?" you asked. He pointed off to the corner of the room where you glimpsed Peeta, standing beside a chariot with his brown corduroy suit and red tie. His hair was parted and combed neatly, just like in the picture. You walked to him. "Hey," you said, your voice shaking slightly. He looked at you and his eyebrows raised a little.

"Wow," he said. You said nothing. "I saw the picture...I didn't think they would actually dye your hair."

"Well they did," you said. You didn't mean to be short with him, but the thought of the Capitol even having control of your hair color made you upset. He sighed.

"Come on." He grabbed your hand and helped you into the chariot, joining you on the other side and closing the side door. As the horses whinnied in front of you, you glanced around at the other tributes. They all looked so big, so strong, so intimidating. Except for one, who couldn't be mistaken as anything but what she was: a 12 year old. You always held a sadness in your heart for those who were picked their first year, especially this year. You thought about how scared you were to be participating in the Games, and then tried to imagine how your brother had felt last year on his own chariot. You couldn't.

"Everyone looks better than me," you blurted out. Peeta squeezed your hand.

"Look at me," he said. You didn't. "Jacklyn. Look at me." He pulled on your hand slightly and you gave in.

"What?" you said.

"You look amazing." You blushed. "Have you actually seen the other Tributes up close? Their stylists are trying to copy Cinna. They tried to add lights onto the costumes this year. Have you ever seen a cow with light up spots?" You laughed, picturing it in your head. He laughed too.

"No," you said quietly.

"Okay then." He squeezed your hand again reassuringly and your heart skipped a beat. The doors open with a loud creak and your heart skipped a beat again, but for a different reason.

"You shouldn't hold my hand," you said, trying to pull away. He held on tighter.

"We're supposed to be Mr and Mrs Locke," he reminded you. "They were very energetic people...we need to be the same." Your stomach dropped.

"I'm not energetic," you said quickly as the chariots began to move forward. "I don't know how to be."

"Well, you have about 10 seconds to figure it out." You looked ahead at the other Tributes as they entered the giant room, struggling to figure out how to act. The cheering of the crowd was all you could think about. The crowd cheering for the people they were about to watch be slaughtered.

"Peeta," you said, as your chariot neared the door, "I-"

"Just follow my lead." Your heart pounded as you entered the room, and the crowd erupted in a fresh set of cheers. Peeta flashed a smile, gripping your hand tight, and threw his left arm up in the air as if about to take a bow. The ladies screamed in response and you realized what you had to do. You stepped away from Peeta a bit and turned towards the crowd on your side, throwing your right arm up and smiling the most dazzling smile you could. Men. Lots of them. Screaming your name. You would have thrown up if you hadn't already that day.

A new wave of screaming came from Peeta's side and you turned in time to see him throwing a rose out into the audience. Where did he get a rose? You stared at him questioningly and then remembered that the parade was being filmed. You smiled again and blew a kiss out to your side of the audience, and the movement of your arm made a shower of white petals fly from your sleeve and swirl around behind you. The crowd went wild. You smiled a genuine smile. Cinna was too creative.

Before you knew what was happening, Peeta had thrown an arm around your waist and had pulled you close. You looked at him in shock and he grinned at you. He reached up towards your hair, grabbed the pins that was holding it back, and ripped them all out, sending them flying into the stands. Your hair flew out behind you, a mess of curls, and you smiled slightly. He grabbed your arm and pulled you close, turning quickly towards his side of the crowd and dipping you low as you would do in dance. It felt good to feel the breeze on your face as you leaned back, almost out the door, and then he pulled you back up and brushed the hair from your face.

"Cinna didn't tell you this," Peeta said quickly, "but our outfits are about to change." He twirled you once and then pulled you closer than you had ever been.

"Why didn't he tell me?" you asked.

"So that you wouldn't have time to change your mind." He put his hands on your waist and lifted you up, turning in circles as you held onto his shoulders with a smile. When he set you back down, you were almost to the front of the room. You felt so electrified by his touch, and by the thought that Katniss might be watching and be jealous. You hoped that she was. The horses began to slow down.

"When?!" you wanted to scream, but you whispered it instead.

"Count to 3," he whispered back, "and then just stare straight ahead." You began to count down from three in your head: 3...2...1...and then it happened. A loud bang and a puff of smoke as your chariot came to a stop in front of the large podium, and you immediately knew that something was different when your dress didn't feel lacy, but tight, and Peeta's hand wasn't in yours. Your desperately wanted to look and see what had changed, but you did what he said and looked straight ahead. There was silence throughout the crowd. The microphone came to life.

"Welcome, Tributes," came the voice of President Snow, sending shivers through down your spine, "and Happy Hunger Games." He paused. "May the odds be...ever in your favor." You could feel his eyes on you as the crowd once again roared to life, and your chariot turned around and headed back towards the entrance. You stared ahead the entire time. You felt President Snow's eyes on the back of your head. When you got back outside the room, the first person you sought out was Cinna.

"All of that for a few simple words?" you asked, stepping off the chariot and walking over to him. "Does that happen every year?" Cinna said nothing, and you realized he could be punished for agreeing with any remarks made against the Capitol. Peeta appeared by your side.

"Have you looked in the mirror yet?" he asked. You had completely forgot, your wardrobe had changed at the end of the parade.

"Thanks for warning me, by the way," you said accusingly, walking away from him before he had the chance to respond, and finding a mirror by a water fountain. You gasped at the sight of yourself, in a tight-fitting black dress, smoky make-up and your normal hair color. If you had the choice, this is what you would wear back in the Seam. But it is illegal to dress provocatively. You looked over at Peeta, wearing a rich black suit, his hair slightly ruffled, his hands in his pocket. That must have been why he wasn't holding yours.

"He wanted to show the Capitol that you and I aren't gonna play their silly game. We may for a little while, but at the end of the day...we're still going to be ourselves." You looked back towards the mirror and processed this, as well as something else...

Cinna would probably be dead by morning.

End of chapter 4