"I've been very mysterious, though," Effie begins dramatically, as the elevator shots skyward up. In the beginning, I counted her high-pitched chatter in a category between annoying and infuriating. Now I welcome it- anything to distract me from the spot on my cheek, and the image of Katniss' stylist, head cocked to the side and staring intently at me as we left the stables.

"Because, of course, Haymitch hasn't bothered to tell me your strategies. But I've done my best with what I had to work with. How Katniss sacrificed herself for her sister. How you've both successfully struggled to overcome the barbarism of your district." Effie honestly believes what she says, and that is why I can't hate her- struggling not to laugh is another matter. Poor manners are barbaric in the Capitol, where appearance takes precedence.

"Everyone has their reservations, naturally. You being from the coal district. But I said, and this was very clever of me, I said, 'Well, if you put enough pressure on coal it turns to pearls!'"

I bite my lip and look downwards. In the back of my mind, I can already envision the new district banner- miner hats, picks, and clam shaped coal. Quickly, I look around Effie, and catch a glimpse of Katniss, staring forward, face crumpling as if she can't believe the words spilling out of Effie's electric pink lips.

"Unfortunately, I can't seal the sponsor deals for you. Only Haymitch can do that. But don't worry, I'll get him to the table at gunpoint if necessary." I'm not sure what's worse; Haymitch not doing his part as a mentor, or Katniss and I relying on her for sponsors.

I couldn't be more thankful when the elevator doors open wide to District 12's floor. My new home- however temporary it may be. The inside of my room is similar to the train, only slightly larger and more grandiose. The bed and walls are the same dark blue color that abruptly ends the warm sunset colors, with silver star-like threading etched into wallpaper. A single window dominates the far wall, looking more like an animated painting than a living city.

There's a knock at the door before I even make it to the bathroom.

"Peeta?" Portia opens the door, walking in purposefully. A long opaque bag dangles from her fingertips. "I've come to collect your jumpsuit," she announces energetically, eyes glistening "and I thought you might need some help out of it." She turns me around and undoes the neck. When the zipper tugs at the fabric just above my butt, I step out forgetting- but unabashed- that I'm completely nude.

"Wash up and we'll see you for dinner," I faintly her say as she hurries from the room, arranging my costume on a hanger.

Once again, the showers are beyond me. I feel like I could be driving the train with all the buttons lining the mint tiled walls. Shampoos and soaps in the scents of cherries, vanilla, leather, and things called tangoes and yukananas- without looking at the rest of the list I chose 'roses' because it seems the safest and somewhat familiar.

Stripped of makeup and decent smelling, I throw on the first shirt and pair of pants my hands touch. The last time I ate anything, Portia was divulging her plans of roasting tributes in the Remake Center- though, after listening to the crowds cheer, I have to admit she and Cinna are geniuses.

In the main room, a man and woman in stark white shirts and pants, run around the large dining table. My stomach grumbles when I realize there is no food.

"Hello, Peeta." I turn towards the voice, and see Katniss' stylist walking toward me, two glasses of yellow colored wine in each hand. "I'm Cinna, Portia's partner."

I smile to myself- he deserves an award for being the most normal person in the Capitol. As far as body enhancements go- there are faint golden lines painted along the top of Cinna's eyelids. "Hello."

"I was going to meet her, if you'd like to come along. She likes the view from the rooftop better than the balcony."

"Am I allowed up there? Aren't you afraid I'd try to jump off?"

He stops, looking thoughtful for a moment, and then smiles. "If you could, I would."

Back down the dormitory hallway, he leads me up a flight of stairs that exits into a dome shaped room. I can faintly hear the wind gusting through the walls, and I remember that we are on the top floor. In district twelve, the largest building is the Justice Building, and that only has two floors.

I swallow, following him out into the night air.

The stars, missing from the sky, seemed to have fallen to the ground- the city itself glistens with millions of lights. I lean over the balcony, looking at the rainbow of different colored people bustle around the towering buildings- Cinna calls the ones crawling into space, skyscapers. If you look hard enough, they have faint blue rings that encompass the buildings with open floors- electric fields that send you flying back. It's something you can't quite picture until you see it for yourself. The bad and the beautiful in one place- all the wonders available, but it drove everyone here to insanity. Why else would they have the Hunger Games?

"Cinna, who are you-" Portia stops abruptly as she emerges from the other side of the dome, her eyes widening as she takes me in. Behind her there's an open garden- cement ground partially covered with rows of flowerbeds and small floral trees planted in decorated pots. Trails of different colored tiles weave through the garden into a patio at the center. "I wasn't expecting to see you," she confesses, closing the distance. "Is coming Katniss up, as well?"

Cinna hands her a wine glass. "Not that I know of. I ran into Peeta when I was coming to see you, and thought he might like to see the garden."

It wasn't exactly my first thought or reason for coming to the rooftop, but it's relaxing. Each tree has a pair of tiny silver chimes attached to its branches- they make a soft tinkling noise each time the wind blows. Which is very often.

"This is one my favorite spots in the entire Capitol. There's something comforting about being surrounded by nature- untouched, uncorrupted." Cinna and I follow behind, as Portia leads us to the patio, all the while pointing out different flowers. "Baby's breath, hyacinth, rosemary, heather, and- my favorite- gardenia." She points at a bush with white flowers, petals swirling together from the middle like water down a drain. It's the kind of flower I would have frosted on the showcase cakes. My dad would always tell me he would catch Primrose at the window, staring at each cake with sparkling eyes.

I sigh, sitting down one of the few benches positioned outwards, directly facing the city. I wonder how they're doing right now- is Katniss' family learning how to survive without her to provide, and my father carrying on the bakery without my help? In contrast, even I'd agree she has more to live for.

"I heard my team gave you a tough time earlier," Portia notes, taking a seat next to me.

I shake my head in mock horror. "The hair dying was horrible."

She laughs quietly. "Zia told me Calix was teasing you. Though I'm sure they were only talking about their favorite victors. Lord knows, I constantly hear enough about Finnick from Zia."

"They were trying to decide which victor I would be good with," I admit. If that's what my prep team considers teasing, my brothers would be arrested for assault. "Apparently I'm an Annie type."

Cinna makes a face, but it he covers it quickly. "She is very quiet girl." He casually glances around, moving to stand close to Portia. "Her victory proved that sometimes being loved is a greater advantage than being strong."

"What about Naomi?" That was the other name they mentioned- the way Zia said her name, makes me oddly curious about how she won.

"Naomi?" Portia repeats, having to think for a moment. "She was the career from district two- same year- right?" Cinna nods. "Her partner was killed during the cornucopia, and the next day she took out both tributes from district one and four while they slept- even though she didn't win, she's still infamous for taking apart such a strong alliance from the inside. Lovely girl."

"Without the careers, the other tributes won't fight one another," Cinna remarks off-hand. I've can't remember a game where district one or two haven't dominated the finals. It stands to reason- while I was elbows deep learning how to bake bread; they were playing with knives and throwing spears. No amount of luck would save me if I have to fight one hand to hand.

"We seem very callous to you," Cinna continues, misinterpreting the scowl on my face. "Katniss had the same expression when we were talking earlier."

"Peeta, have you ever read a book and felt for the main character? Not as if they were a made up person, but a human as real as you and me- celebrated their happiness, mourned their loss. Well, that's how the games are here. You're a part of their story." She stands up, reaching into the bush, touching one of its white flowers as if it were something precious. "Get into their hearts, and they'll help you. No one likes watching their favorite character die."

And this is why I was brought up here- a strategy meeting. "So you want me to charm the audience."

Portia bends down and plucks a purple flower, pressing it in my palm- rosemary, she called it. The two small blossoms hug close together, almost forming one square-petalled flower. She waits until I look into her eyes before whispering, "You need to appeal to the Gamemakers. They're the writers- not the men and women cheering for you."

My mouth feels dry, remembering how, in the past, they easily changed the arena and players to their will. "…Maybe if I bake them a cake."

Portia laughs, but the tight feeling in my chest doesn't go away.

"We should be heading back downstairs," Cinna says, playing with the stem of his empty wine glass. "Dinner should be ready."

I couldn't be more thankful when I walk back into the main room, and find he was exactly right. In our absence, food was placed in every available spot around the six place settings. A green mess with tiny, red tomatoes, bowls of fruits, and large platters covered by silver lids- though I can't see inside, I know whatever they are, must be kept warm.

Portia decides we'll wait on the balcony until the rest of our party arrives. The concert hall, where the victor's interview will take place, is across the road- the main interviews will be in the street of City Circle itself.

When she moves onto pointing out other important buildings, like the president's mansion, Cinna leans over. "Thank you for your cooperation earlier. I know the hand holding might seem a little unusual given the situation."

Portia doesn't seem to notice we've stopped listening to her- too absorbed in explaining the different areas of the city.

"Don't worry," I say, smiling. "After hearing that we were wearing flames, everything else sounds normal-"

"Here they come," Portia announces. She winks at me, before walking over to greet Effie.

Katniss, trailing behind, has her eyes light up when she catches sight of the two stylists. Despite the fact I know it's the addition of Cinna that makes her smile, I can feel the blush burning my face.

"Peeta." Cinna catches me by the shoulder. "If there's anything that might help- not only yourself, but Katniss, too- don't be afraid to tell Haymitch. He's much smarter than he seems. Trust him."

We all take our seats and a man in a white tunic fills our glasses with wine. I turn him away, asking for water instead. Just before dinner is served, Haymitch arrives. His hair is cleaned and styled, clothing neat, but he's finally complete when a woman with glowing red hair hands him a drink.

The high spirits from their successful show seem to civil Effie and our mentor relationship. I vaguely listen between the slices of roast beef and mushroom soup, as they compliment Cinna and Portia's hard work. When the conversation focuses on our next outfits, and possible revival of fake fire, I subtly glance at Katniss.

Her eyes follow the woman's hand, as she holds a small lighter to a cake. With a click, flames lick the top layer.

"What makes it burn?" she asks, her glazed eyes running over the cake in wonder. An empty glass rests inches from her fingertips. "Is it alcohol? That's the thing I wa- oh! I know you!"

"Don't be ridiculous, Katniss," Effie snaps. "How could you possibly know an Avox? The very thought."

Katniss looks curiously at the woman and back to Effie. "What's an Avox?"

"Someone who committed a crime," Haymitch answers. "They cut her tongue so she can't speak. She's probably a traitor of some sort. Not likely you'd know her," he emphasizes the last part.

The woman is visibly shaken, keeping her head down as she sets a stack of smaller plates to the side. She seems tame for the Capitol, no tattoos, no makeup, but there's something about her appearance that hinted she was not from the districts. Now I'm not too sure- if Katniss knew her, then shouldn't I?

Effie seems to notice nothing wrong. "And even if you did, you're not to speak to one of them unless it's to give an order. Of course, you don't really know her."

She begins to panic, her eyes avoiding any of the attendants- the Avoxes. District twelve is small, but not so small the market wouldn't hear of a woman being taken away by the peacekeepers. That leaves only one place that their meeting would be kept secret. The forest. "No, I guess not, I just-"

I snap my fingers. "Delly Cartwright. That's who it is," I say enthusiastically, offering the first name that pops into mind. "I kept thinking she looked familiar as well. Then I realized she's a dead ringer for Delly." They could look similar- well, to a blind person. Golden blonde, curly hair, podgy face with red cheeks- she was nothing like the stick figured woman serving dinner.

Katniss smiles awkwardly. "Of course, that's who I was thinking of. It must be the hair."

"Something about the eyes, too," I throw in for good measure.

"Oh, well. If that's all it is," Cinna allows, visibly calming Katniss. "And yes, the cake has spirits, but all the alcohol has burned off. I ordered it specially in honor of your fiery debut."

When the cake is gone, we head into the living area to watch the replay of the tribute parade. Effie is quiet for once, silently marveling over the districts, but none compare to our entrance.

"Whose idea was the hand holding?"

"Cinna's," Portia says proudly.

"Just the perfect touch of rebellion," Haymitch mutters to himself. Rebellion? Saying that we won't kill the other isn't rebellion- it's suicide. If Katniss and I appear as an inseparable team it will only make us a bigger target for the other tributes. "Very nice."

Of course, when we finally make it to the arena, I won't hurt her, but I've seen this gone badly before. A few years ago, this older girl and twelve-year-old boy from the same district where hiding in a broken building. When the careers found and killed the boy, they knew she had to be close by. Teams never last.

The cameras catch one last glimpse of each district before disappearing into the stables- the doors close behind our chariot and Haymitch snaps off the TV.

"Tomorrow morning is the first training session. Meet me for breakfast and I'll tell you exactly how I want you to play it. Now go get some sleep while the grown-ups talk."

I walk with Katniss to the dormitories. When we reach her door, I step forward, blocking half of the entrance. "So…Delly Cartwright. Imagine finding her lookalike here."

What are the odds of Katniss recognizing a single attendant in the entire Capitol? There are at least three on our floor- the rest of the building, and the likelihood that the training center isn't the only place in the city where they have servants. Could they also know about her hunting?

Katniss doesn't response, but her face is very expressive. She can't answer- I already knew that.

"Have you been on the roof yet? Cinna showed me. You can practically see the whole city." After a moment I add, "The wind's a bit loud, though." Along with the chimes- that could have been why Portia was whispering at points.

"Can we just go up?"

"Sure, come on." I lead her to the escape, and a few times I look back, making sure she was still with me. It must have been the years spent secretly venturing into the woods, but Katniss is not only taciturn, but even the way she walks is nearly inaudible. Growing up in the market is the opposite- it may not be the most exciting place in the world, but we're very social. I've never been good with silence.

The sky is darker when we step out of the dome. The lights won't allow for stars, but watching Katniss' reaction is worth the loss.

"I asked Cinna why they let us up here. Weren't they worried some of the tributes might decide to jump right over the side?"

"What'd he say?"

"You can't," I say, squinting at our own 'safety net' below. "Some kind of electric field throws you back on the roof."

"Always worried about our safety," I barely hear her mutter. "Do you think they're watching us now?"

"Maybe," I allow. Though there's barely any reason for suspicion, I wouldn't put it past them to have every corner of the Training Center monitored- especially a remote rooftop, with a high-tech…loss prevention system. Though, if I follow our stylists' lead, there might be one place. "Come see the garden."

She stops, bending over to examine a flower. Her one hand clutches her knees more for comfort than balance. "…were in the woods one day. Hidden, waiting for game."

I crouch lower. "You and your father?"

"No, my friend Gale," she says, shaking her head. "Suddenly all the birds stopped singing at once. Except one. As if it were giving a warning call. And then we saw her. I'm sure it was the same girl. A boy was with her. Their clothes were tattered. They had dark circles under their eyes from no sleep. They were running as if their lives depended on it.

"The hovercraft appeared out of nowhere. I mean, one moment the sky was empty and the next it was there. It didn't make a sound, but they saw it. A net dropped down on the girl and carried her up, fast, so fast like the elevator. They shot some sort of spear through the boy. It was attached to a cable and they hauled him up as well. But I'm certain he was dead. We heard the girl scream once. The boy's name, I think." A shiver runs through her body as the wind blows strongly. "Then it was gone, the hovercraft. Vanished into thin air. And the birds began to sing again, as if nothing had happened."

"Did they see you?"

"I don't know. We were under a shelf of rock." Katniss grabs her arms, curling in on herself.

I slip out of my jacket. "You're shivering," I explain, setting it over her shoulders. Katniss twitches, as the material touches her, but doesn't move grateful for the warmth. "They were from here?"

She nods.

"Where do you suppose they were going?" The closest district took us hours to reach- what did they think they find in twelve? Barbarians and pearls?

She takes a steady breath. "I don't know that. Or why they would leave here."

"I'd leave here," I disagree, looking around half expecting someone to appear- a couple peacekeepers dropping from the sky, tongue-less attendants in white tunics, Effie. Back home, there may be starving people, but at least they have their tongues, and the peacekeepers are more like decorations. It would be nice to see it one last time. "I'd go home now if they let me. But you have to admit, the food's prime."

Katniss stares at me, curiously.

I stand up. "It's getting chilly. We better go in." "Your friend Gale. He's the one who took your sister away at the reaping…?" I let myself drift off.

"Yes. Do you know him?"

"Not really." He's in Al's year and I accidentally found out Delly had a crush on him once. "I hear girls talk about him a lot. I though he was your cousin or something. You favor each other."

"No, we're not related."

"Did he come to say good-bye to you?"

"Yes," she says hesitantly. "So did your father. He brought me cookies."

I freeze. "Really?" Why would he do that? I mean, I barely saw him for a few seconds before he disappeared. It finally hits me that the small package in his hand was for her all along- presents from my father and faith from my mother.

"Well, he likes you and your sister. I think he wishes he had a daughter instead of a houseful of boys." After all, Katniss does put the majority of meat on our table. My baking and decorating aren't as useful as hunting- especially now with the games only a week away.

"He knew your mother when they were kids," I add, trying to change the subject.

"Oh." Katniss nods to herself, as if remembering something. "Yes. She grew up in town."

We're her door, and Katniss takes off the jacket, handing it back. "See you in the morning then."

"See you," I agree, walking away.

Grown-up talk must be over- the lights are dimmed and rather than babbling voices, my footsteps are the only noise echoing through the hallways.

This must be how it is every year. Once the Capitol people leave, the life slowly drains from the penthouse. In the other floors, the surplus of rooms must be taken up by their second mentor and perhaps past victors who come along for the fun- the only people staying here will be the three of us.

Trust Haymitch, Cinna's words ring in my ears. After all those years surrounded by death and silence, I want to believe that some part of the lone victor might be of help to one of our survival. Telling us what to do, how to act, where to go in the arena, who to look out for…

If there's anything that might help- not only yourself, but Katniss, too…You need to appeal to the Gamemakers…All the birds stopped singing at once. Except one.

I close my eyes, listening to the sound of rain tapping softly against my window. Images of songbirds and a girl in a red dress dance across my eyelids, lulling me to sleep.