H-H-How's it going guys? My name is TheFlameRose, and today you will be receiving a new installment of I Volunteer as Tribute! It's a couple hundred words shorter than my other chapters, but I thought you guys would understand :P

ONTO THE STORY!

Disclaimer: I do not own the Hunger Games. Period.

FLASHBACK TO LAST CHAPTER

"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.

I tried adjusting my outfit for the third time, still unsuccessful in my attempts at making it baggier. Portia watched me with amusement, covering her mouth as if that way I wouldn't see her smile. I glared at her and tried once more to get enough breathing room.

"It won't work, Laurel, no matter how hard you try," Portia chuckled, resting a hand on my shoulder. "The material is made to fit like a second skin."

"Yeah, well, this 'second skin' of yours is really constricting my boobs," I said, stretching it yet again, "I can barely breathe in this thing!"

"Have you tried moving around in it yet?" She asked, leaning against the wall. I narrowed my eyes, reluctant to move in case the material only hugged me tighter. Hoping that she would save me on the off chance it would choke me out, I took a few steps to my left and started stretching.

"Whoa," I said, looking down at the black bodysuit in a new light. It moved with my body, but didn't stretch so thin that you could see anything underneath. There were little black vines embroidered up the sides of the legs, circling around my waist before coming up and going down my arms. They were a darker shade than the rest of the suit and you couldn't see them unless you were up close and personal with me.

"What's the point of these things?" I asked, twisting my arm so that she could see the extra thread. She smiled knowingly and twirled her gun-like thing by the trigger. I watched warily, readying myself to dive for cover if anything was fired. But nothing happened, and she put it away with a flare as if she'd been handling it for years.

"You'll know in due time, Laurel. Now, sit down while I put on the finishing touches."

I did as I was told, being patient as I possibly could as she put a little more makeup on my face, no doubt fixing what my prep team had messed up. It wasn't their fault though. Just because I was told to obediently go with what they told me to do, didn't mean I couldn't squirm when the brush got a little too close to my eye.

I stood up when she told me to, closing my eyes when she wanted me to; even giving a little twirl for her even though I didn't know what else she had put on me yet. She placed something on my head, but she had left my hair alone for the most part. It was put up though, that much I knew.

"Alright, you can open your eyes now. Tell me what you think," Portia said, the sound of the walls opening up following her words.

Slowly, I opened my eyes, half of me wanting to see what she had done with me, the other half wanted to keep them shut and just get this over with already. My reflection met that of a stranger's. There was no way that the girlin the mirror was me. The clothing that adorned her was a sleek black, accentuating curves that only strengthened my mindset that this person was not me. The dainty silver tiara was a nice change of color that didn't really take away from the rest of the ensemble, but the things that did draw me in the most were her eyes.

The dark eyeshadows Portia added contrasted vividly with the blue of the irises. They smoldered, holding an inner fire to them that looked like it would burn you up if you stared too long.

"This…is me?" I asked in a hushed whisper, watching as the girl's lips moved in sync with my own. Portia nodded, a glimmer in her eyes that showed the pride she held for her creation.

"Don't you love it?" She asked, bursting at the seams with joy. I turned my head to face her, the corners of my eyes crinkling as I smiled at her.

"It's gorgeous, Portia. Thank you, really. You don't know how worried I was that you were going to–"

"Dress you up in nothing but coal dust?" She chuckled, reading my mind. "No, I wouldn't ever dream of doing that. It's just not tasteful in general, let alone enough for a girl of your natural beauty."

I shifted awkwardly on my feet, not used to compliments that weren't laced with malice. I grumbled out an Okay and our once easy banter was now replaced by a tense silence. A knock on the door dispelled the tension, and Portia rushed to answer it. Effie stood there with a disgruntled look on her face, one hand on her hip and the other held out so she could look at her stylish, top-of-the-line watch.

"Miss Trinket! What are you doing here? We still have fifteen minutes," Portia asked, her pencil-thin eyebrows raised. Effie merely huffed and tapped her watch, an annoyed look on her face.

"No, Portia, you do not! Have you even been paying attention to the clock? The Parade is starting in fifteen minutes! I swear, stylists these days…" She said, shaking her head and making her platinum blonde wig's curls bounce. Portia's eyes widened and she whipped her head around to look up at the clock on the wall, realization finally hitting her.

"Oh dear, it seems I did lose track of time. Come on, Laurel. We have to get you out of here and to your chariot!" Portia said, taking me by the hand and leading me out of the door, a relieved Effie right behind us.

~OoOoO~

"Why do girls always take so long to get ready," Haymitch said, his fingers tapping quickly away on the table he was seated in front of. Emery looked over at him, an eyebrow raised as he observed his mentor's impatient behavior. Another man sat next to them, gold eyeliner adorning his eyes as he watched and waited patiently. Suddenly, he sat up straighter from his seat and gestured to the people hurrying down the hallway towards them, making the other two men aware of their presence.

"You're late," Haymitch said, standing up as he glared at me, as if it were my fault my stylist lost track of time. I shrugged, feeling the fabric of the bodysuit move with me as I did so. The other man with them stood up as well, smiling as he looked me up and down.

"Hello, Laurel Dainton. I see Portia has done well with your attire for this year's Opening Ceremonies."

I looked down at the outfit and back up at him, unsure of how to proceed. Luckily, Portia came to my rescue and introduced him.

"Laurel, this is Cinna, District 12's other stylist. He helped me with some of the work designing your ensemble for this evening." I looked up at him and nodded, showing a small sign of appreciation to the tall man.

"It's nice to meet you, Cinna," I said politely, offering my hand as my mother had taught me to when meeting new people. He shook it and smiled at me, looking bizarrely normal in this place of freaks.

"Time is ticking! No more dilly-dallying people! Let's get a move on or we'll be late!" Effie said, pushing on my back to get my body moving. I grudgingly started to move, knowing it wouldn't be wise to be late for something as big as the Opening Ceremonies, no matter how stupid it was.

The other tributes were already waiting by their chariots, and I could feel their eyes locking onto us as soon as we entered the room, some in suspicion, others in awe. I ignored all of them and trudged over to our chariot, schooling my features as I did so.

Our horses were coal black, befitting the district they represented. I walked up to one and stroked its side, feeling the soft, coarse fur underneath my fingertips. I'd always wanted a horse- I mean, what little girl didn't- but they were so expensive, and I'd have nowhere to keep it where it wouldn't be a bother to anyone. I'd come to terms with the harsh reality that my life was a part of a long time ago, so I knew that any hopes and dreams I had were just a waste of time.

I could still feel eyes watching me, even though most of the tributes had gone back to doing what they were doing. I turned and looked down the row of chariots, unintentionally meeting the gaze of the District 2 male tribute. Blue clashed with blue, and a smirk formed on his arrogant face. I sneered, anger welling within me, but never broke eye-contact. It was like facing down a cougar, once you make one move that suggests you are weaker than they are, they strike, and I was not weak. He raised an eyebrow, as if surprised by the way I reacted.

Emery came up beside me, and I was forced to look away. Doing a quick once-over, I realized he was dressed in almost the same thing as I was, the only difference being that his was stiffer, more like a leathery armor than a second skin and that there was no tiara on his head. The little vines were embroidered on it as well, and I couldn't help but wonder why they would dress us so much alike.

"Are you ready?" He asked, his eyes darting in the direction I had been staring.

"Yeah, we should get this over with already," I said, walking with him over to where Portia and Cinna were waiting. Portia smiled as I neared, and I gave a small smile in return.

"Laurel, Emery, do you trust us?" Cinna asked when we stopped walking. My brow furrowed, and I couldn't help but be suspicious of why he would ask something like that. Emery and I exchanged a glance, and I let him answer for us.

"Depends. What do we need to trust you for?" He asked, crossing his arms and inadvertently showing off the muscles in his arms. Now it was Portia and Cinna's turn to exchange a glance. Portia pursed her lips and pressed her hands together, pondering on how to tell us whatever it was she needed to.

"Laurel, do you remember when I asked you if you were afraid of fire?" She asked me, taking a step closer. I nodded slowly, remembering how she had brandished the gun-thing after she had asked.

And then it clicked.

I put two and two together, and realized the thing she had been holding like a gun wasn't actually a gun, it was a lighter. She was going to light us on fire. But she had to have something there as a sort of wick, or fuse... And that had to be what the vines were for, to make sure it had enough kindling to spread all over our bodies...burning us like the coal we mined back home.

"You're going to burn us alive!" I said, scrambling back a couple of steps to distance myself from the psychos. Emery took a second to realize what I just said, and then he, too, backed away from them. Cinna shook his head vehemently, an apologetic expression coloring his features.

"No, we aren't!" Cinna said as sincerely as he could, looking as though he really meant it.

"It's synthetic, it looks like real fire, but it can't burn you or burn out without a special spray Cinna and I created," Portia said.

"See?" Cinna added, pulling out his own lighter and holding his finger over the tip as he pulled the trigger. I watched in fascination as the flame licked up his finger but didn't turn it black. Once he let go of the trigger the flame disappeared, and his finger was unharmed.

"Whoa," Emery said, rubbing a hand through his carefully styled hair and messing it up in the process.

"I second that whoa," I said, actually impressed with their flames. "Did you make this stuff yourselves?"

"Yes, it's our own original design. It took us quite a while to perfect it, but now it is primed and ready for action," Cinna said with a twinkle in his eye. I had a sudden realization that these two Capitolites were probably the most down-to-earth people I would meet in this godawful place.

"The Opening Ceremonies will be starting in five minutes. All tributes must be standing on their designated chariot within that time limit," a booming voice announced from the ceiling, surprising half of the tributes and their stylists.

Cinna sighed. "I wish we had more time to discuss this, but as we all just heard it's time for you two to climb aboard your chariot."

"I've been meaning to ask this for a while, but could you tell us where our mentor and escort went?" Emery asked, not seeming to be frazzled at all by the sudden announcement or the time limit we now had. Portia waved away his question and quickly gave a reply.

"Miss Trinket and Mr. Abernathy are conducting business right now, but they'll be here when you get back, okay? Now, get up there! District 1's chariot is about to take off!" Emery and I looked over at the other chariots and realized they were right, so we scrambled up, Emery helping me when I almost slipped. Five minutes my ass!

"Are you ready for this?" Portia asked. I swallowed down my fears and agreed, hoping that I wouldn't burn to death even though I had seen Cinna's finger survive firsthand.

They nodded at each other and produced their lighters, each moving to their own tribute to light us up. I glanced over at the other tribute chariots to see District 7 beginning to pull away, the brother and sister acting like the other meant nothing to them as they were as far apart as they could be on their little platform. It was sad to think they had already accepted that one had to die for the other to live. The stylists did their last little adjustments in record time before pulling the triggers, letting the synthetic flames start at our feet and lick their way up the vines. It tickled, but surprisingly didn't burn, nor did I feel the heat associated with fire as it wound around my torso.

"Good luck out there, Laurel, Emery," Cinna said to us in encouragement before stepping back. Portia leaned in close, pretending to adjust my tiara as she whispered something in my ear.

"Once you're about halfway through you loop, grab his hand and do not let go," was what she said before taking a couple steps back and waving farewell to us. I looked back at her in confusion, almost falling over again when the chariot lurched into motion, but luckily I was able to catch myself before it was too late.

Tilting my chin up, I squared my shoulders and braced myself as we exited the stalls and entered the City Circle, where I nearly fell yet again due to the sheer volume of noise coming from the crowd that watched us eagerly, calling out the names of their favorite tributes. It seemed they were particularly fond of the District 2 and 4 males, who were both absorbing as much of the attention as they possibly could. District 4 was even posing for the crowd, working them exactly how he had during his Reaping. 2 just smiled viciously at them, baring his teeth like an animal, and for some reason the women went wild. I thought I even saw a pair of panties flying through the air towards him.

I looked up at the giant screen that took up most of the side of one building just as the cameras panned over to us, inching away before snapping back to our chariot almost as if the cameramen were in shock of what they saw. And I couldn't blame them.

I hadn't noticed before that our flames were different colors. Emery's were a bright orange, verging on being almost red in color, while mine were blue. They wound all around us, yet stayed only were the vines were as our horses trotted through the Circle. I just couldn't believe what the screen was showing me.

It showed a woman, with not only her body being enveloped by flames, but her eyes as well. They held an inner fire burning with a passion that didn't belong on the hard, cold face they were set in. She looked like she would burn through anything and everything in her path, and would do it without a single wince or tear. She looked invincible, indestructible. And people noticed.

There was a lull in the audience when they saw us, so taken aback that they stopped their chattering and shouting for the other tributes completely as they stared, mesmerized by our appearances. The Career Districts looked at each other in confusion before all looking up at the screen to see what had happened.

The lull was over quickly as the Capitol nitwits took the time to look up our names in their little pamphlets they undoubtedly had in their smooth, perfectly manicured hands. They began cheering for us, yelling and hooting and whistling and applauding so loudly it more than doubled what the uproar had been for the other tributes.

I turned away from them, grinding me teeth in anger at their naiveté. I suddenly realized we were almost halfway through the loop, and I turned to Emery, surprised by how cold and deadly he too looked with his flames. Trusting Portia more than I normally would on the first day of meeting someone, I grabbed his hand, holding onto it tightly so he wouldn't pull away. He blinked and looked at me in confusion, silently asking me what I was doing. He got his answer when our flames touched, and then changed.

The colors swirled around each other for a moment like a dance of sorts before erupting into a pure white that almost blinded me from its intensity. The color raced up our arms, overwhelming the other colors and smothering them, taking them over effortlessly. And how the crowd went wild. They started screaming, like this was the most exciting thing of their lives. It was almost frightening to listen to, but I didn't let that show. Instead, Emery and I shared a look before he raised our hands, showing everyone watching what had caused the transformation. The reaction was deafening.

My gaze drifted forward a little, and suddenly it was met with that of a stormy sea-green that could only belong to that of the District 4 male tribute, Finnick Odair. His eyes were narrowed, and his fists were clenched as he eyed us, and my first thought was that he was jealous for stealing his thunder and taking the crowds' favor. Deciding to try and mock him a little bit, I winked and blew a kiss to him, probably not the smartest thing to do, but for some reason I felt like getting under his skin. Maybe because he was just so perfect, it was unfair. I don't know. But he did look a little flustered after I did so, and he turned away. Laurel: 1, Career Tributes: 0.

Becoming bolder, I turned back to the crowd, deciding that maybe I should try to work it just like Finnick had. Giving a small smile to the many people watching us, I blew a small kiss at them, my smile broadening when they went nuts trying to catch it. Emery looked at me quickly out of the corner of his eye, and it was like he was surprised at what he saw me doing. I ignored him and became even bolder, waving and smiling and blowing kisses out into the audience, playing them right into my hands.

Our chariot slowed to a stop, and I came back to myself, no longer feeling giddy and bold. The smile slipped from my expression and was quickly replaced by my empty mask. All of the tributes looked up at the balcony where our dear, dear President Snow had just walked out, smiling at us too tightly for it to be a real smile. He then proceeded to give the crowd his annual welcome speech I tuned out almost immediately.

My ever-wandering eyes looked around as everyone paid attention to the meaningless words he pronounced. I was drawn to look over at the Career Tributes, and rightly so since the male from District 4 was looking my way again, his eyes clear and welcoming as he watched me. His sea-green eyes were admittedly gorgeous, not that I would ever say that to his face. Once I met his gaze, a small smile formed on his perfectly sculpted lips, and he sent a little wave my way. My brow furrowed in confusion. What game was he playing?

Suddenly, everyone started clapping as our, beloved, President departed, and I realized the speech was already over. The speech must've been shorter than I originally thought.

Our chariots took off again, and we broke eye-contact. Nobody seemed to have noticed the smile or the wave, and it was like it had never happened. We were heading to the Training Center, and a wave of nervousness suddenly washed over me at the prospect of training under the watchful eyes of the Career Tributes. When the horses began slowing as we entered the building, I finally noticed something that seemed to have slipped my mind as I got wrapped up in the lights and the crowd and the other tributes.

Emery never let go of my hand.

Updated as of June 10th, 2021.

A/N: I'm thinking that I will be updating every two weeks, maximum. That way, I get one week of working on one of my stories, and then do the same for the other story :) If things start getting even better around here, I might be able to get back to my whole, "Three chapters a week! WHOOOP!" Deal I had when I started these stories.

Things should be starting to get complicated involving the plot soon enough, and I don't think you guys will expect what I have up my sleeve for this story ;) At least, I hope you don't. That would ruin all the fun things I had planned ( ._.)

Shout-outs to: The Loved and Unloved & Lovely Lexie for reviewing last chapter! You guys rock!

Also, I would like to thank the "Silent Watchers" for following and favoriting my story :) You may never speak out, but I still value you guys highly. Hope you enjoyed this chapter!

Um.

Okay.

Bye now.