A/N: Reviews are much appreciated! Thanks so much :)

I woke up early, as the sun was just starting to filter in through the silk curtains. For the first time in my life, I didn't have to go to school, didn't have to hang out with tiresome, air-headed girls, didn't have to mind my parents wishes. All I had to do was focus on the task in front of me: The Hunger Games.

But right now, I didn't need to worry about the big picture. I simply had to focus on today's agenda: arriving at the Capitol and making a splash.

After dressing in jeans and a flowy shirt (a pretty outfit, but not too girly), I put my hair in pigtails. Some people didn't like pigtails-they thought they were too childish or something-but I didn't see what was wrong with them. They kept my hair off of my face, and didn't come loose as easily as a ponytail or a bun. If people wanted to underestimate me simply because of my hairstyle, that was their problem.

I strode into the dining car to find everyone else already at breakfast. "It's about time you got up, sunshine," Gloss chided me.

I glanced at the time. It was only seven in the morning; what were these people thinking?! I brushed off the comment and took a seat. After buttering a roll, I looked around expectantly. "So, what advice can you give us for today?" I asked.

"The Opening Ceremonies are the first time the people of the Capitol will really see you, aside from when you were reaped," Cashmere started. "As District One, you will be the first chariot coming out. This is good because the crowd will be paying extreme attention at the beginning, but also a disadvantage because they won't remember you very well by the end. So just let your stylists do their work, and work the crowd when you're in your chariots."

We nodded, then I eyed Marvel. My expression said, remember the talk we had yesterday? I need some time alone with the mentors. He caught my eye and stood up hastily. "I'm going to go take a shower."

Cashmere, Gloss, and I sat in silence until the door swung shut behind him. Then I turned to face them, staring them dead in the eyes. "Look, I will do anything to win this competition. Anything. So just tell me what it takes."

Cashmere and Gloss exchanged glances, then Gloss leaned forward. "Glimmer, Cashmere and I always pick one tribute to help over the other. It's only logical, since there can only be one winner in the Games. We talked it over last night, and decided that our choice this year is easy. Unfortunately, we're required to help Marvel at least a bit, but we'll give you all of the extra time and information that we can. We're backing you all the way."

My chest swelled with pride. They believed in me more than anyone else. Not that I was surprised, of course, but it was always nice to hear.

"So first things first," Cashmere said, interrupting my reverie. "The Opening Ceremonies. This is one of the most crucial times. There will be hundreds of sponsors in that crowd, waiting to pick out the person that looks most promising. Now, you seem like a cunning girl. If your stylist doesn't give you as good of a look as you think you deserve, manipulate and push her until she does. I know you know how."

I smiled and nodded, thanking them profusely. Now I was getting somewhere.

I walked out of the dining car and nearly ran smack into Marvel. "So what did they tell you?" he asked.

I made my eyes wide and innocent. "Well, I told them how nervous I was about going into the Games, and they just told me to believe in myself and that it would all turn out fine. It really helped my confidence."

He nodded, clearly amused that such a little baby was entering into the Hunger Games, the most ruthless competition in the world. It was all I could do not to snicker at his obliviousness. "Look!" he cried suddenly, pointing out the window. "It's the Capitol!"

I peered out the window at the cheering crowds of overdressed citizens, the tall buildings, the colorful streets, and experienced a sense of relief. This was why I was in the Hunger Games. I was meant to live here. Just seeing the sights, even from a moving train, made me feel like I was home.

The crowd screamed when they saw that the train was carrying tributes. I grinned and waved at them, feeling so giddy that the smile wasn't even forced.

When the train finally slowed to a stop, we were all waiting at the doors to get off. Kamilia went first, waving enthusiastically with a huge smile on her face. Cashmere and Gloss came next, nodding coolly at the crowds but mostly just staring haughtily forward. Then I stepped into the sunlight.

The crowd went wild, most of the people not even sparing a glance for Marvel, who was walking meekly behind me. I strutted forward, looking beautiful but also strong, like a tribute should. I was gorgeous, poised, and utterly in control. I shot confident smiles at the women and gave the men seductive glances. They were all wrapped around my little finger by the time we reached the Training Center.

I was lead to a small room while my prep team (who reminded me of fluttery, semi-annoying little birds in a way) bathed me in a strange, bubbly liquid, then washed, dried, and straightened my hair.

After that, they danced around me for a few minutes, trying to find any imperfections to erase. I waxed my arms and legs, so there was no hair for them to remove there. I trimmed and buffed my nails on a weekly basis, so they didn't need to worry about that. And, unlike the barbarians in the rougher districts, I had no scars or scrapes to take care of. "Well, you're pretty much ready," one of them finally admitted (I hadn't bothered to learn their names).

They exited, and my stylist walked in. Her name was Cressida Topkins, and she had been the stylist for District One for as long as I could remember. With her purple hair tinted with streaks of gold, her glittery silver lipstick, and her eccentric clothing, she was pretty hard to forget. However, she was the best of the best; the tributes from District One looked better and better every year.

I recalled what Cashmere and Gloss had told me about manipulating my stylist into getting me the best outfit possible, and decided a dazzling, enthralling personality would best do the trick. So the minute she stepped into the room, I was off. I prattled about how much I loved the Capitol, how everyone at home was so great to support me in this, how cute her emerald-green rhinestoned dress was. All I had to do was smile, giggle, and make grand gestures, and I could see her falling in love with my personality more and more every minute.

"You know," she said as she finished my hair-it hung curly and lush, spilling wildly over my shoulders. "I was going to go a more traditional route with your outfit, something more demure and classically beautiful. But I always say that the outfit should reflect the personality of the wearer, so we're going to go a different route."

I smiled to myself. Mission accomplished.

A few hours later, I stood in front of a full-length mirror, simply in awe of myself. My entire body was spray-painted completely silver, paired with a dress made of sparkling jewels. My hair added to the look with the lush, bouncy curls, and my makeup was sheer: just a little lip gloss and a lot of mascara. My entire body sparkled when I moved even the slightest bit, sending shards of light dancing along the walls. I seemed like a force bigger than myself, an entity from another world. In that moment, I could do anything.

Cressida and I met up with Marvel, who looked almost as dazzling as myself, and we walked down to where all the chariots awaited. All eyes turned to us when we entered, and I settled myself proudly into my seat.

"You two are fierce," I heard the District Two mentor saying to his tributes. I was pretty sure the boy's name was Cato, but I couldn't recall the girl's. "You're warriors," he continued. "No sparkly bubblegum unicorns-and-rainbows like the District One tributes over there."

My blood boiled. Sparkly bubblegum unicorns-and-rainbows, are we? They would see how much like a rainbow I was when I tore their damn throats out.

They nodded and the mentor walked away. I noticed the boy, Cato, eyeing me with some interest. I hesitated, then gave him a wink before turning away. I wasn't looking for any romance with another tribute for obvious reasons, but perhaps he was thinking that a steamy romance could win us some sponsors, and I was open to any ideas that might increase my chances.

"Now let's get started!" the announcer's voice boomed out. "First up, District One!"

Our chariot rolled out, and I was suddenly encased in a ball of noise. The crowd went mad at the sight of us. I caught sight of our faces up on the screen and my breath was taken away at how, well, breathtaking we looked. My dress shimmered and my face sparkled. I smiled and waved at the crowd, who were on their feet by now. I blew a single kiss, and the roaring escalated. I raised my fist into the air victoriously. No one could make more of an impact. No one. I could practically hear the money pouring out of the sponsors' pockets.

We took up more airtime than we deserved, even when we pulled into the City Circle. The screen barely showed the three chariots behind us. I continued to smile and wave, feeling exhilarated. I had done what Cashmere and Gloss told me to. My impact was made, and my chances for victory in the Games had increased tremendously.

The District Two tributes pulled up next to us, looking sullen and resentful. "I guess our sparkly bubblegum unicorns-and-rainbows strategy wasn't too bad after all, was it?" I said to the girl tribute, smirking, my voice too low for any cameras to hear. She bared her teeth at me, but I thought I saw Cato crack a smile at my comment before quickly reassuming his fierce demeanor.

I kept watch, but no one outshone us. Now only District Twelve was left, and there was no chance for them.

So when two fiery, beautiful creatures came into the city, I gasped. They were literally on fire! How the hell was that even possible? It was the girl that volunteered for her sister. She was working the crowd better than I would have thought possible, and her and the boy were actually holding hands. Why would they do that?

Damn their stylist. Thanks to him, whoever he was, Marvel and I were suddenly outshone. Second-best. And that was not how I operated.