Author's Note: I really meant to update this like... five days ago, but life got in the way and then finals started. Good news is I finish school in five days (Wednesday, it currenly being a Friday night) which means the updates will probably be faster! Thanks to Stephanne21 who faithfully reviews every chapter days after I post it, and who also raised a good question which I have answered privately and meant to put in the Author's Note in like... chapter 1 but forgot about it so here we go. Question: How will they get mentors? Answer: They won't. Mentors are victors and there are no victors because it is the first Hunger Games so I have decided that there will be no mentors. The escorts and stylists will basically cover all that stuff (strategy, sponsers etc.) More good news is that chapter six means we actually start the Games. Bad news is that I have finally gotten through every plot hole I ever had in my head and you're probably going to hate me, and I'm not sure how good the editing is in this chapter because I edited like two weeks ago and haven't looked at it since so if there are any problems let me know! Please review and enjoy!

Chapter 4

The Capitol

If there's one thing I really hate, besides the whole idea of being forced to fight to the death, it's my prep team. They're even worse than Quinia when it comes to Capitol fashion. They have their skin dyed, engraved, and tattooed, one has whiskers, and they don't even look human. It's the most appalling thing I have ever seen. And they treat me like a rag doll. They pull and stretch and scrub and wax my skin so violently I feel like once I stand up, it will all fall off of me. They liquids they use smell terrible and sting my nose and my skin. The whole thing is just absolutely terrible.

It's a bit easier when they are done "cleaning" me, and move onto make up. I actually like it a bit. I still hate the prep team, but I do like the makeup.

They use black eye shadow that gets lighter and lighter up to my eyebrows. My eyes are lined in black eyeliner that goes out in wings back toward my temple. They glue rhinestones up the wings, and assure me the rhinestones aren't permanent when I nervously ask. The fake eyelashes they stick on me (also not permanent) shimmer when the light hits them just right. My lips are coated in bright red that tastes like cherries and they apply makeup to my cheeks so my cheekbones are more defined, even though I think they're already well enough defined. The prep team leaves the room and I pull on a robe while I wait for my stylist to come in.

The woman introduces herself as Bloom. I don't hate her as much just by looking at her; she does the whole Capitol thing in more fashionable way, in my opinion. It looks like she has naturally blond hair, but the tips are dyed dark blue and the shades get lighter as they progress from the small of her back to her roots, where there isn't any trace of blue dye. She wears a blue and silver jumpsuit. It's tight, but it works on her petite frame. "I guess we'll get right to it," she says and walks to the back of the room where my costume for the opening interviews hangs on a hook. She hands it to me, "Put this on, and open the door to let me know you're done." I'm glad she isn't going to stay here when I change.

I put on the costume and look in the mirror. It's a bit strange, or not what I

was expecting, at least. The tributes are supposed to be dressed to represent their districts, Quinia told me. I wasn't sure how you dress like coal, but this isn't what I thought. There's black spandex shorts with a waist that makes a V on the sides to go up to my natural waist but down in the front and back just below my belly button. The bottoms do an upside V where on the sides they go up a few centimeters below my hips. They are skin tight and have rhinestones on the edges. The top is a black, lacy bra that makes me feel very exposed. I think the outfit makes me too skinny, you can easily count my ribs, but I don't have a say in the matter so I open the door to let Bloom in.

"Does it fit?" she asks and she walks in a circle around me.

If by fit she means too tight and revealing, then yes. "Yeah," I answer.

"All the other tributes are going for a certain angle at their interviews; funny, smart, serious. Yours is going to be sexy, and I thought this would help." She walks to the back of the room and brings back a small bucket with her, but all I can think is "How am I supposed to be sexy?" Back in district 12 boys don't drool over me like they do some other girls. I mean, sure, there's a few who have gotten a bit flustered, but I'm not insanely gorgeous. "I just want to add one last thing," she tells me. Bloom takes the lid off the bucket and pulls out a small container of this jelly stuff that she smears thinly on my stomach before putting a thin, black coat of black powder on it. Coal dust, I think.

Bloom rubs a thick cream in my hair and when she combs it out my hair is a brighter red. Each section forms long, perfect ringlets when she's done styling it. The girl staring back at me isn't Karen McGrady, the girl from district 12 who's starving. This girl looks like a whore.

"You look lovely," Bloom says as she steps back to look at her work. I just smile and nod.

When we're done, I go back to a room with Bloom and Quinia. They tell me I have to make the audience fall in love with me, especially the boys, so I get sponsors. They seemed to be convinced, at least by looks, that I could pull it off. I don't say anything because I know they don't care what I have to think. Quinia leaves to go talk to Oliver with his stylist, leaving Bloom and me by ourselves. We don't know what to say to each other. "I'm sorry," she finally says.

I look at her. "What?"

"I don't agree with any of this," she says, her voice almost a whisper. "I'm not here by choice, and if I could get you out, I would. But I can't. So I'm going to try and help you win over the crowd and maybe you'll win."

I'm not really sure what to say to this. I can tell she really means it, but I don't know how to react to this. "Thanks," I decide. We go back to silence.

We're in the training center now, getting ready for the opening ceremony. The plan is for us to go out in carts led by horses to the training center. This is the official start of the Hunger Games.

All the horses look different, depending on the district. Our horses are black, but district one has brilliant white horses and district four's are pretty sea foam green color. We seem to blend in with everything, except my hair. Oliver is wearing black pants and his middle section and arms are covered in the same black powder I'm in. Out of everyone, I think the girls from one and four stick out the most. The girl from one, Jewel, has a white leotard with sparkling stones in colors from clear to green. Daisy, from four, has a flowing blue dress designed to look like the ocean. Among the sea of colors, district 12 fades into the background.

Oliver and I don't talk much, but I keep catching him looking at me. "Do I know you?" I finally ask him.

He swallows and shakes his head. "No, I don't think so." Hmmf.

I'm distracted by Finn, the boy from four, who walks over to us. "Well aren't you a sexy thing?" he says to me. I Bloom was right; I do apparently have the looks. He strokes the horse in front of me with a tan, muscly arm. You can tell he's spent his whole life on a beach.

"Erm- thanks," I finally managed.

He turns to me with a surprised look on his face. "Wha- oh. I was talking about the horse," he smirks and I feel my face go red. "Kidding." I laugh, even though it was more cruel than funny. But I guess with all this, if you have an excuse to laugh, then why not? "I'm Finn. District four, as you've probably noticed from my shorts." He does this sort of twirl and I get a look at his costume for the first time. His shorts have the same design as Daisy's dress.

"Karen," I tell him. "Twelve."

"Nice to meet ya, Kare bear." Oh goodness, not Kare bear. People called me that when I was a baby. "How old are you, anyway?" he asks.

"Fifteen," I respond. After a minute, "What about you?"

"Seventeen."

We're told that it's almost time to go out, so Finn leaves to go back to his cart and Oliver and I get in our positions.

The crowd roars as our horses pull us through the candy streets of the Capitol. Bloom told us to smile and wave, so we do. "This is ridiculous," Oliver says through his tight smile.

"I know," I whisper back. The horses bring us around the Capitol and to the building they call the Training Center. Obviously, we will be training here until we're actually in the area.

Once we arrive, there is a feast set up for the tributes. Since twelve was the last to arrive, most of the other tributes have settled down with their food.

Jewel and the boy from district one, the boy from two, and Daisy, from four, are sitting together. Finn, and Pepper from two, are sitting together at another table. Being from the richest districts, they look the healthiest and they're plates have considerably less food on them compared to the tributes from poorer districts.

"Do you want to sit together?" Oliver asks. Most of the other tributes are sitting with their districts only.

"Sure," I answer after a moment. We get plates and pile them with food before going to the only other empty table. "Do I know you?" I finally ask, once we're both settled.

He shakes his head but doesn't look at me. "I don't think so. I've seen you in school before; you're a few years younger than me, though." I guess that's it. We continue to eat out food in silence when Finn and Pepper bump their table into ours.

"Pepper, this Kare Bear and..." Finn begins, but trails off not knowing Oliver's name.

"Oliver," he fills in.

"Right. Pepper, this is Kare Bear and Oliver. Kare Bear and Oliver, this is

Pepper," he stabs his fork in our directions as he says our names.

I roll my eyes, "It's Karen." I look down at my plate and realize there's nothing more I would like to be doing right now than eating. I pick up my fork and eat the mountain of mashed potatoes and a baked potato by the time Pepper and Finn have only just gotten through have their plates.

"Geez, you eat like you've never had a meal in your life," Pepper says. Her tone tells you she's joking and either she really doesn't know what district twelve is like or she is an extremely rude person. I look up and glare at her.

"Well, I haven't really," I respond. That shuts her up for the rest of the night.

After dinner we are taken to floor twelve of the training center, which is where we will be staying for the four days we get to train before the Games.

I really wish all of district 12 was here to see this. The luxury showers and the clothes and the candy colored skyline of the Capitol. I mean, I hate it, but I wish the people in district 12 could see it. I take my shower and scrub off the makeup. It all goes down the drain in a swirl of black and glitter.

As I get dressed again and climb into bed, I try to quiet my mind. This day seemed to go by in a matter of minutes and in four days I'm going to be locked in an area, forced to fight to the death. I wonder what the people in district twelve are thinking. I wonder if this is good enough for the Capitol. If they're happy so far or if they're just going to make things worse for everyone. I wonder how Logan is dealing with this. I know he's watching. I know him and I know his eyes will be glued to the screen in the main square every second. I can picture his mother making him come home and go to bed after the screen goes dark and the crowd goes home.

Eventually I decide I'm never going to go to sleep and just lay in bed, staring at the ceiling.