Hello? *breeze blows by, carrying some tumbleweed with it*

I know it's been forever since I updated this, and you guys have no idea how terrible I feel. I just got a new laptop for my birthday last Monday, so now hopefully I can get these chapters going by fast again :)

Now, without further adieu...

ONTO THE STORY!

Disclaimer: I do not own The Hunger Games. Suzanne Collins does. I do, however, own Laurel, Emery, and Laurel's prep team :D

FLASHBACK TO LAST CHAPTER:

Crawling under the too-soft covers of the bed, I curled up tight, cradling my head with my arms. I wasn't used to having this big of a bed to sleep in, since I shared the one at home with Luke and Lily, so there wasn't exactly room for my legs to be at night. But I didn't mind. I had the two most precious people in the world beside me every time I went to sleep. Having a bed this big only emphasized how alone I was now.

Willing away tears, I tucked my face into my arm, waiting for sleep to finally end this day and take me to the blissful nothingness of my dreams.

I woke up gasping for breath, the images that had plagued my dreams so real that they left me in a cold sweat. The sun barely peaked over the horizon, surprising me that I woke up so late. Rolling my way out of the bed, my skin felt gross and sticky from sweat.

Wandering my way into the bathroom, it took me a minute to look over the numerous buttons that were lying neatly in perfect rows next to the shower station. Each one had a tiny picture that I did not have the time to understand. With a sigh, I pressed three of them at random and shucked off my sleepwear. Water started sprinkling down from the ceiling, and when I reached a hand out I nearly melted at the warmth it provided. I scurried into the stall, letting the water thaw my frozen body and feeling my muscles relax under the spray. Suddenly, a pale blue, frothy pile of suds fell from where the water had just been, coating me from head to toe.

Spluttering and wiping at my eyes, I didn't even realize I was losing my balance until my feet flew out from under me. I came down hard on the floor, my cheek roughly nicking the edge of a small shelf as I went down. I hissed and pressed my hand against my cheek, the soap stinging the fresh wound.

"Dammit!" I muttered, sitting up just as the warm water decided to rain down on me again. The stupid suds dissolved and swirled down the drain, leaving behind only a fresh, minty scent in its wake. I got back to my feet unsteadily, eyeing the faucet above me with caution. Okay, maybe I should read the buttons carefully next time.

The rest of the shower was uneventful. Another round of the soap stream happened, but I was ready for it and quickly washed up, now feeling a little bit embarrassed that I got caught so off-guard. I stepped out of the Shower of Death and onto a mat, causing some kind of drying mechanism to turn on. Air blasted me from every angle possible, sending my hair into a frenzy that was kind of fun. After the experience was over, I touched a few strands, rubbing it between my fingers as I stared at it with amazement. My hair was so shiny and soft. If only we had this kind of shower back home. Lily would love having something like this for her hair.

I stepped up to the technologically advanced wardrobe and chose another simple outfit for the day, putting it on as soon as it came out. A sharp, loud rapping resounded from my door, causing me to nearly drop my shirt. An unmistakably bright, overly bubbly voice called to me from the other side.

"Up, up, up! Today's going to be a big, big, big day!" Effie called with a giggle, her heels clicking noisily as she walked away, most likely to go wake Emery up. Taking a deep breath, I put on my shirt and opened the door, headed down to the dining room.

Haymitch sat back in his chair, tipping it precariously on its two back legs as he took a swig of whatever was in his bottle today. He shot me a speculative look, as if reminding me about our moment last night. I looked around the room, seeing if anyone else was in here before nodding subtly. He focused back on his facade, taking a moment to slip into character as I walked to the far side of the room to look out the window. The sun was on its way to the higher part of the sky, and I judged it to be around 8 o' clock in the morning.

I wonder when we'll get to the Capitol, I thought to myself aimlessly, staring at the beautiful scenery we passed at break-neck speed. As if reading my thoughts, Effie appeared with Emery in tow, a different color scheme accentuating her skeleton-thin figure.

"We'll be arriving at the Capitol soon! Ooo, this is so exciting! I just adore this part of the season!" She sighed and clasped her hands together, staring off into the distance with a dreamy look. Her gaze just happened to slide past me, and suddenly her pleasure was warped into horror as she wobbled over to me, grabbing the bottom of my shirt.

"What is this?" She said, tsking over and over to herself. "How do you expect to make your debut in the capitol like that? Dark greens, muted blues, what kind of colors are those?!" She huffed.

"My kind of colors," I said, not liking how she was talking down to me as if I were a child. "Now back off before I do something we'll both regret."

Her reaction was priceless as she yelped and took a few steps back, nearly tripping over her heels in her haste. Emery smirked from where he was leaning against a wall, and Haymitch chuckled into his bottle, taking another gulp of his drink to hide when she shot an accusing look at him.

"What time will we arrive?" Emery asked, not-so-subtly trying to change the subject. Effie composed herself and put on her best smile, but it looked closer to a wince than anything else.

"In an hour," she said tightly. "Until then let us have a little breakfast to tide us over until then."

Effie turned her back on me and sat down at the table, beckoning Emery to join her and Haymitch as breakfast was served. I sat down in the chair closest to the window to watch the trees go by. It was mesmerizing in a way. The pudgy man from last night was nowhere to be found, but a slender woman offered me a plate so I could eat. She put freshly cooked chicken eggs on the platter, along with the several strips of the finest smelling pieces of meat that made last night's pale in comparison. She set a small bowl of fresh fruit down before trying to leave, but I tugged on her arm to stop her.

"What is this?" I asked, pointing the meat. She looked at me wide-eyed and glanced over at the table, as if talking to me would be a crime. She pulled out a piece of paper and pointed to a word, letting me take a moment to read it before putting it back.

"It's...bacon?" I asked, taking a bite. My eyelids fluttered as I savored the rich flavor, not used to so much fat in one bite of food but not caring. The woman nodded once before taking her leave, barely making a sound as she exited.

I sat at that window for what felt like only five minutes, but it was probably more around forty. The trees I had been admiring abruptly disappeared, replaced by multi-colored, artificially created shrubs that marred the natural beauty the landscape used to have. Well, at least I know we're getting close to the Capitol. Not even a second after I had thought that, Effie announced that we were to get ourselves prepared for our, 'much anticipated appearance.'

"We're from District 12. Nobody anticipates our appearance," I murmured, but she didn't seem to notice.

"Alright, brats, when you step out of this train, you'll be swarmed by cameras. They'll be twice as much as back home, if not more. I want ya to act as friendly as you can manage. Smile a little, wave some, throw in some winks if ya can. Just try to win them over." He tipped back the bottle again. "No glaring," he said, turning an annoyed gaze towards me. I looked away nonchalantly, knowing he was meaning me but choosing to ignore it. "And no fighting. We have to really make up for the treatment you gave them at the station."

"Anything else?" I asked bitingly, not really in the mood to be pleasant. Shooting me a scowl, he took another sip of his drink before speaking.

"Yea, there is. Once we make it in the building, yer going to be taken straight to the Remake center, where ya meet yer stylists and get all, 'Capitolized,' or whatever they call it now." He waved at the air dismissively, playing up his stupid, drunk charade. The ugly eyesores that were considered trees in this strange place started to come further into focus outside. Must be getting close.

"Okay, tributes! Time to depart! Hurry, now. Get to your places! The door will open in a few minutes!" Effie said, checking her pocket-watch she appeared to have pulled out of thin air.

Emery and I shifted over to the doors that would soon open and release us into the chaos. He shot me a look I didn't understand, like he was silently trying to tell me something. Then his gaze slid down to my cheek, and his eyes widened in alarm. I didn't have time to figure out what had shocked him, since the doors slid open, and I was met with a sea of cameras. They were all flashing and going off from the train entrance all the way to the building's. Haymitch put his hand on my shoulder, making it look like he was steadying himself, but he gave me a reassuring squeeze. He put on a lazy smile and pulled Effie forward, dragging her through the crowd as he chuckled at his own lame jokes, clearing a path for Emery and I.

Gritting my teeth, I looked straight ahead, trying my hardest to look neutral, but failing as one cameraperson full-on shoved a camera into my face, nearly hitting me in the process. I stumbled back, bumping into Emery and instantly becoming angry. Clenching my fist, I opened my mouth to tell him just where exactly he could shove that camera next when suddenly Haymitch was there, grabbing my hand and dragging both Emery and I the rest of the way to the building.

As soon as the doors closed behind us, Emery and I were split away from our mentor and led into an elevator that would take us to the Remake Center. Haymitch, being the kind, caring man he was, decided to shout some encouraging words to us right before the doors closed.

"These people will know what they're doing, so don't say a word to stop them! No complaining!"

Emery was taken down a different hallway in this maze that was the 14th floor, presumably to his prep team. I was led into a room that looked like it was more meant for surgery than prepping. The man who had led me down here closed the door behind me, leaving me to my own devices for the moment. I sat down on the edge of a stainless steel table, feeling the cold of it bite into my palms. This was the place where they were supposed to make me 'beautiful' for the Games, and everything leading up to them. I just hoped that I wouldn't have to stand buck-naked except for coal dust for the Parade, like the poor tributes from two years ago.

I looked up when the door reopened, revealing three people who looked like they had been hit by a rainbow. Two were women, while the third one was a man, all looking exactly like the typical Capitol citizen. Bright green waves reminiscent of seaweed adorned the man's head, contrasting oddly with yellow, snake-like eyes that rested in the middle of his pure white face. The taller of the two women was slender, but not at all close to being a skeleton like other women I'd seen here. Her hair was a deep purple color, and it was almost short enough to be considered a buzz-cut. The other woman was so short she reminded me of Lily, but that was the end of any resemblances. Her skin was as blue as the oceans District 4 was known for, and her bright pink hair was curled so tightly that I figured if they were any tighter the skin on her scalp would rip right open. She smiled kindly at me, her blue face undeniable sweet and caring despite being from Capitol descent. I gave a small smile in return, restlessly waiting for the horror to begin.

"Ohmigosh! Isn't she just the cutest thing?!" The pink-haired woman squealed, rushing over to me and taking my hands in her own. "I'm Lucinia, and I think it will be an honor working with you!" She nodded eccentrically, her many curls bouncing as she patted my hands. I smiled sheepishly at her and nodded, taking what Haymitch said and minding it. I mean, how bad could this all be? It was just makeup, after all.

~OoOoO~

My skin felt raw, my body felt bare, and my head felt heavy. It had been four hours since I had arrived in this prison, and it hadn't been an enjoyable experience. I had come to find out that the man's name was Domencio, the other woman was named Murcia, and that being waxed in certain private regions hurt like hell. Domencio was finishing up drying my hair after working in some sort of soap that looked suspiciously like that of the soap from this morning. Lucinia was putting the finishing touches on my now uniform perfect nails, and I was intrigued by the complex patterns of the blue fire that seemed to sprout from my nail beds. Murcia hadn't been kind in her waxing, but she had muttered a sorry every now and then. My eyebrows had been plucked clean, making them and the hair on my head the last of any remaining hair on my entire body.

And they never stopped talking. All they would talk about was things that were going on in their lives, like how Domencio had been invited to some masquerade party and how Murcia had gained six ounces in the past week. And they would always pause every thirty minutes or so to confer with each other about some woman named Portia would think about their progress so far. Then one of them would pipe up and say that she only wanted to see me when I was ready. After that they would get back to work, only to stop and do it again another thirty minutes later.

"Okay, I think she's ready this time." Murcia nodded to herself. Lucinia and Domencio agreed and they decided to leave, promising to let this Portia woman in in a few minutes as they went out the door.

I sat there, in all my naked glory, waiting for whomever this person was as I tried examined what things they had changed about me. There was exactly zero mirrors in the room, and even the tables were just dull enough to blur my image, preventing me from seeing my reflection in its metallic surface.

The door slid open and in walked some woman who, judging by her lavish clothing and heavy makeup, was my fashion stylist. Her platinum blonde hair was like an umbrella was sitting on her head, darker streaks of it glittering in the light. She was tall, standing at least six foot high if not more. She strutted towards me, a calculating look in her eyes as she assessed my body. I had an extreme urge to cover myself, but I held it off, knowing she would only force me to remain bare.

"Hello, Laurel." She smiled, revealing very white teeth that shown even brighter against her dark brown skin. "My name's Portia, and I'll be your stylist for this year's Hunger Games. Now, go get that robe and put it on," she pointed to the thin robe my prep team had made me put on every once in awhile, "I'll just start by fixing up your hair for the Parade tonight, so you don't need to be nude until its time to get your outfit on."

She led me to a chair and let me sit down, her hands immediately twisting designs into my hair. She fawned over its long length and how it was so black.

"Is this your natural color?" She asked, taking a closer look at it. I looked at her in disbelief out of the corner of my eye.

"Of course it is. Why would I dye it?"

Portia tutted softly to herself. Her fingers took on a gentle quality that gradually began to ease the tension from my shoulders. A hazy memory of my mother tying small ribbons in my hair on our front step came to mind. Back when I allowed my hair to be in any other position other than down.

"Sorry if I came off as rude, Laurel. It's just that you can't find this color of hair here in the Capitol naturally, so I assumed you had dyed it. My deepest apologies," she said.

"It's fine, Portia," I said to her after a beat, attempting to play nice. "How about we just get this over with as soon as we can, yeah? I've been told more than once that I'm not a very cooperative subject to work on when it involves fashion things."

"Okay! Just lean you head back and close your eyes for a little while, and I'll do the rest." I narrowed my eyes suspiciously, but ended up doing as I was told. She started tugging lightly on random locks of my hair, pulling them in different directions as she hummed quietly to herself. She seemed to dedicate her full attention once she started working on something. I thought I recognized the tune she was humming, but I couldn't place it without the lyrics.

"Now, I'm going to need you to hold your breath just for a second. I have to spray some of this stuff in your hair, and trust me when I tell you, it doesn't taste very good." She made a face and somehow made me chuckle. She wasn't as bad as I had thought she was going to be.

After she had finished doing my hair, she brought out what seemed like millions of different shades of every type of makeup known to man. She touched up on what Murcia had already done, for some reason putting darker tones of color on my face. My mind scrambled as the creeping concern that she was going to make me stand there in my chariot naked covered in coal dust reared its head again. I blinked when she put the makeup away, not even bothering to touch up any other part of my body with the powders. Once I had relaxed again, she made me stand so she could start rubbing in some type of cream thing that soothed my still sore skin.

Instead of talking about everything happening in her life, she would ask me about things that went on back in my District, like what we did for fun and how we celebrated things. It made me feel a little more trusting to her, for some reason, and I ended up telling her how we would hold dances in the town square for the holidays. I also accidentally let it slip that that was the place where my mother had met my father, and how 9 months later I was born. I never talked about things like that, normally. I didn't like people knowing things about me where they could use it against me. But when it just spilled out that my parent had had me before they were married, I couldn't stop talking.

"It's frowned upon back home, you know. Having a child before participating in Holy Matrimony is against everything the people of my District apparently stand for. That's why I never really had many friends. Their parents know that I wasn't planned, so they whisper rumors that there is something wrong with me, that I'm different. A freak. But I didn't even do anything!" I said, eyes burning. "So what if my parents got ahead of themselves? I didn't ask to be born."

I took a shuddering breath and came back to myself, ice flooding my veins. Why did I spill my heart out like that? What was wrong with me?

She put a hand on my shoulder, a sympathetic look on her face.

"Laurel, I will not tell a soul of what we have talked about today, okay? So don't you worry," she said with a smile. I looked at her in shock, stunned by the apparent genuineness she expressed.

"Okay. Thank you, Portia," I said.

"Don't mention it. Would you like to get your outfit on now?"

I nodded. Her smile widened even more, creating crinkles around her eyes as she looked at me warmly. She strode confidently over to a closet-type thing, pulled out something covered by a black cloak and some sort of small contraption that had a trigger, like a gun.

"Tell me, Laurel. Are you afraid of fire?" She winked.

Updated as of June 10th, 2021. Thanks for sticking around, you all. :)

A/N: And that was Chapter 6 :) Did you guys like it? Do you like Murcia, Lucinia, and Domencio? What about how I portrayed Portia?

I think things will start to pick up now that the Parade's just around the corner! So hopefully I'll get the next chapter out faster than over two weeks :P

Shout-out to Lovely Lexie for sticking with me through this whole thing so far, no matter how long it takes me to publish another chapter!

P.S. I would like to thank the people who have recently favorited and followed my story :) It means a lot!

Have a wonderful day, folks!