The sound of cheers follows me as I board the train to the Capitol. Fake. They cheer because they think they will come out with victor this year, like they almost always do. They won't be cheering when Cato dies. And I figure this because there is no way I am losing. I will return to my district cold, resigned, and ignorant of their praise. They will receive no love from me. I hate Panem. Secretly, I dream of a place far away where the Capitol did not reign, where one could live without fear. But that would be boring.

I enter my room and immediately trot to the shower. I turn it on as cold as it will go and stand there for what feels like hours. Calm, calm, I repeat the feeling to myself. You are on your way; this is where you want to be. I step out of the shower lightly and look at myself in the mirror. I am not small. No thin sugarcane blowing in the wind. Years of training have showcased everything in the right spot, and everything is muscle. I pull on a scarlet blouse and black slacks. Time to meet my mentor.

Meeting my mentor is not actually as exciting as it sounds, for I already know who I will get. Enobaria. She was a ruthless victor, and I'm sure she will pass on all her tactics skilfully to me. One day, after I've won, perhaps I will be able to pull off the "hatred for everyone" personality as well as she does. Minus the pointed teeth. I catch a glimpse of Cato only once, as he is leaving with Lushiat. Old as the man is, Lushiat won the 60th hunger games exceptionally well with his brute strength and barbarism. I flicker of doubt crosses my mind. Cato may prove to be a great opponent, especially with Lushiat's help. I may need to cut him down first.

Within the hour I have discussed minor things with Enobaria and met my prep team. It consists of three women, (can I call them that?) who, like all the Capitol drones, think they're being "eccentric". They drag me along a long train corridor and usher me into a small secluded dark maroon room. With a BANG the door closes behind me and I am alone.

My breath quickens and I swivel around, desperately searching for the way out. Claustrophobia is sinking in and for the first time since the reaping I feel sweat drip down my forehead. Before I can really panic however, I hear a door open behind me and smell fresh air. Standing in the doorway opposite the way I came in is a man in black, the only notable thing about him is that his eyes shine violet.

"Alright love?" he grins, raising an eyebrow and giving me a once over. I already do not like this man.

"I'm fine." I say haughtily, standing up and lifting my nose in the air. He can think what he wants. What do I care anyway? I breeze by him and encounter the strangest room I have seen to date. It is completely white, with a wall completely made of mirror. Warm breath on my neck reminds me that the man is still here with me and goose bumps run up and down my arms. I want this over with soon.

"When we reach the Capitol," he slowly walks around till he's in front of me. "I will prepare you for the opening ceremonies. I'm your stylist if you haven't guessed." He pauses, piercing me with violet eyes that look like they could shoot lasers if need be. "I need to know that you will do anything, and I mean anything, I ask you to do for your district costume."

This doesn't take me by surprise at all. The opening ceremonies are well known for shock value, as all the tributes try and make an impression, to be remembered. I eye this strange man, calculating.

"You got a name?" I demand. He crosses his arms.

"Answer my question, and you'll get my name."

I shrug nonchalantly and raise my eyebrow. "I can take any freak show costume you can dream up." The man smiles in a way that makes me very uncomfortable and chimes,

"Lund, my name is Lund."

The rest of the train ride goes relatively fast and before I know it the shinning lights of the Capitol are all around me. Cato and I are separately ushered into the "hotel" so to speak, and brought up to the second floor where we will reside for the next few days until the games begin. Admittedly, I am impressed by all the technology, and how one can receive anything with the snap of their fingers. In reality though, I'm anxiously awaiting the moment where I will be able to size up my competitors, figure out the best way to cut them up and make them scream. This is my goal. And I will let nothing stand between me and the blood of all my opponents.

Evening comes faster than expected and the prep team have already spent two hours removing every hair from my body, waxing me and doing my hair into loose curls that fall about my shoulders and pinning some back with a somehow reflective granite pin. The time comes for Lund to see me and dress me for the ceremonies, and I wait in disgusted anticipation of him seeing my completely naked. He already makes me uncomfortable as it is.

Finally he summons me, and I saunter into a room that looks identical to the one on the train, dark maroon and equally as small. This time however, as the door slams behind me, I keep my cool until the next door opens and Lund pulls me in. I shake my arm from his grasp and challenge him, "Why do you even have that little capsule of a room?"

He grins slyly and shrugs, "I simply enjoy the seeing pupils grow smaller as they enter a brighter room. It's lovely to see." And I thought was insane. This man has problems. He asks me to drop my housecoat and I do so with an expressionless face. I see myself in the wall sized mirror he has for a wall. He sizes me up once more, and the expression on his face makes me want to vomit. No wonder this guy is a stylist, he gets to see all his clients naked.

With a wicked grin he pulls out from behind his back a tub of sparkling grey powder, and a small length of completely-through silver fabric.

My face turns from an expressionless void to shock and confusion. How does that equate to an outf-... It dawns on me. He is behind me now, gently touching my shoulder, his violet eyes burn into mine through the mirrors reflection.

"Alright love?"