Suddenly, Symma pops up. "Come on, Evelyn! Your prep team wants you in now!"
"We're there already?" I ask in disbelief.
"Of course!" She says quickly as she rushes around the train.
"Sorry," I hear another sweet voice.
"Eila?" I ask. "Where's my prep team?"
"They're here," she says, leading me off the train. "Corvin is getting with his right now."
Before I knew it, I was surrounded by my prep team. They stripped me of my clothes and all walked around me, studying my body. I tried to stand still, but I'd never been in a position like this before. Finally, they laid me down on a table and started rubbing lotions and strange oils on me. Some of them smelled like alcohol, some smelled sweet or spicy. Some even made me want to gag. Then they began to lay down strips on my body and rip them off, taking all my body hair with it. I wanted to scream out in pain it burned so bad! They went from my legs to my arms and everywhere else.
Eventually they finished with that and had me stand before them again. I felt red and raw and wanted to be done with this. But they didn't. They put me in a soft, silky robe and had me sit down in a chair while they rubbed soap and more oils in my hair. After they washed it off and dried my hair, it was smoother and more satiny than I had ever felt it. I wanted to keep running my fingers through it, but they snapped at me to keep still while they styled it.
Once my hair was finished, it was in a simple style: all let down, except one regular braid wrapping around one side of my head.
Next they started on my face. They had me close my eyes while they put all kinds of powders and glosses on it. Once I opened them again, my eyes were shadowed a smoky red-orange color and my pupils were dark brown. My lips had been perfected into a slim line that was deep red. I looked intoxicating.
It seemed that they were finally finished. They led me to my stylist and cleared out of the room.
My stylist was a man. He had dirty blonde hair that he kept in a ponytail and blue eyes that seemed kind. He was about my height and walked in a sort of strut around me.
"So, your name is Evelyn," he confirmed. "I have a very special design for you." He held up a dazzling suit with all kinds of patterns on it. It was jet black and had a sort of stretchy fabric that fit right on me.
"This is my second year as a stylist. I'm not sure of this one... but I think you'll like it. I can't help but think that it's a little bit... tired."
"It looks great," I said, trying to sound enthusiastic as he slipped it on.
"I know, it doesn't look like much now," he said with an edge to his voice.
"No, no! It's fantastic!" I replied enthusiastically.
"But you haven't seen it yet," he said, giving a sly smile. I cocked my head, confused.
"It's almost time for the chariot rides, so we can turn it on now," he said, and called in an assistant to help him. Once it was on, the patterns lit up and I saw it for what it really was. A gorgeous fire pattern that blended colors of red, yellow, and orange together wound around the whole suit. It glowed like the sun and I couldn't take my eyes off of it. I now understood what he meant by "you haven't seen it yet." Next, he handed me a crown to put around my head. It was a circlet made of the same electronic band that made the fire pattern on the suit. It too had a flame pattern surrounding it.
Once it was all on, I looked amazing. My reflection in the mirror wasn't me; it was a riveting, confidant young woman who was ready for this. But the girl inside of me didn't feel like that. I felt small and scared and I didn't want to be out there to amuse the Capitol. I tore my eyes away from the mirror just in time for my stylist to usher me out to the chariot. Just before I got on with Corvin, who was dressed in an outfit similar to mine, my stylist kissed me on the forehead and whispered, "My name is Regan."
I took a deep breath, looked at Corvin, and made myself a promise: if I was going to do this, I wasn't going to do it as myself. I was going to do it as the girl in the mirror.