"Dear tributes! We have reached the Capitol!" Willie announced. I looked out the window and beheld the glory that was the Capitol. It seems so... clean and advanced compared to my district. Then again, what else can you expect from the city full of rich and powerful people. 'Rich and powerful people who want to see kids kill each other with no mercy as a way to entertain themselves,' I reminded myself. We neared the train station and I saw a crowd of people who seemed to be waiting for our arrival.

As the train slowed to a stop, the crows cheered and waved at us. The people here sure are strange. I mean, what's with the multi-colored hair and huge hairpieces? I noticed that some of them looked unnatural, some looking too pale and others looking a sickly green. Others had a shade of red in their complexion, or yellow, and some looked tanned, but it was far too much to be considered normal.

"Ah home sweet home!" I heard Willie say. Joe whimpered. I looked over at him, shook my head, and resumed looking at the crowd who had started to wave at us. I felt Sue approach.

"I suggest you wave back. It can help you gain sponsors... somehow," she said. I groaned in distaste but did as she said. I couldn't help but feel uncomfortable. These people just looked at us as entertainment. They don't consider us as human beings with our own feelings. Why do they get to choose what we do?

"Alright, cupcakes, time to leave the train of comfort and into Capitol territory," Sue told us, prodding me away from the window. I consented and walked. I wonder what marvels the Capitol has in store for us.

-.-.-.-.-

"Watch it, watch it!" Seriously these people will not be happy as long as there is a single strand of hair on my legs. Kurt, a guy who was pretty much as gay as a rainbow and had powder blue hair and a metallic silver suit adorned with diamonds, smiled sheepishly at me. "I'm sorry Johanna. Just a bit more and we're done. I promise you it will all be worth it. You won't have to live with hairy legs ever again!"

I glare at him and scoff. My legs aren't hairy. These guys are just so obsessive-compulsive. In my opinion a little hair on your legs is good for you. They keep you warm during chilly times in the forest.

Just then a girl, who was wearing this leopard suit came into the room. She had red hair, and she would have looked pretty if not for the big golden tattoo on her forehead. I guess people from the Capitol would think that it looked good, but for me it was just disturbing.

My attention was taken away from the girl by another painful rip of fabric from my legs. I shot another look at Kurt, who by now had learned to just bow his head and avoid my gaze.

"Hey Kurt!" The girl called chirpily. I laughed a bit. I couldn't help it. Her accent was so heavy, and so typically Capitol, that I just had to laugh. Some of their words had unnecessary emphasis on certain syllables and letters, and some were clipped, as if they suddenly had a lump stuck in their throat. It took all of my willpower not to imitate her right there and then.

Of course my sudden happiness earned me some quizzical looks from both Kurt and the girl, probably because they've never really seen me smile, but then they were both pulled back to reality when I cleared my throat. The girl turned to Kurt and said "Hey Kurt are you done yet? We still have to do a final scrub before we get her to Blaine. And her nails! We shouldn't forget about that!" Kurt stared angrily at the girl. "You were late Sugar. That's why we're running late as well. Because of you our schedule is at risk of being compromised. You're lucky Blaine loves me. He won't be able to get mad at us!" Kurt continued scolding Sugar, which wasn't unlike how my mother used to scold me. Wait. Did I hear him right? Blaine, my supposed stylist, loves him? Which means, they're in some sort of relationship? I continued to ponder on this until I heard the blue-haired man sigh in exasperation. I think Mama Kurt's done scolding little Sugar. I suppose I'll just have to ask either Blaine or Kurt about their relationship status later. "Why don't you get started on her nails? So you can finally get some work done!" Sugar smiled apologetically and got a tool and started clipping and shaping my nails. I smirked in amusement. Ah, Capitol people. A reality show about you would be better than any game show with kids murdering each other.

After what I presume to be another hour, we were finally done with the prep work. My whole body felt so sore. Apparently when Sugar said I still needed a final scrub, she didn't mean that they were going to just scrub the remaining dirt off. No, they meant that they would scrub about three layers of my skin along with it.

I got a robe and sat down on the nearest couch. How can these people live this way? Yes, this sort of lifestyle had its advantages. I mean, the food here is prime. And they have all these machines wherein you can just order anything you like and it would come to you a minute later, steaming and sizzling.

But somehow, they were forgetting their humanity. They were forgetting who they really are. They were forgetting that sometimes you don't need all this grandeur to enjoy your life. Sometimes, all you really need are the simplest things. Things like friendship. Family. Love.

There it goes again. That nagging feeling in the back of my head. The feeling that something important will happen in these games. The feeling that my life will never be the same again, and it's not just because of all the killing I'm about to do.

I was broken out of my reverie when I heard the door open. A man entered, wearing a black long-sleeved polo with three of the top buttons undone, which exposed part of his chest that had swirling silver, blue and black patterns on them. He was wearing a crisp grey and black suit jacket over that and he had his hair slicked back. His amber eyes were twinkling with... delight? Excitement, perhaps? I decided that he looked normal enough, besides the tattoos and the earrings that I failed to notice earlier.

"So," he held out his hand and smiled warmly at me. "My name is Blaine Anderson, If you didn't know that already. I will be your stylist. My job is to make you look good in front of other people, so that you can gain sponsors." I smiled back at him. He seemed to be better than any Capitol citizen I've met so far, so I think I can risk trusting him.

"Anyway, I'm supposed to help you prepare for the parade, so that you can make a good impression. Here's your suit."

Apprehension grew in my chest. What sort of suit do I have to wear in this parade just to grab the attention of sponsors? I've seen previous costumes, and they were absolutely abhorrent. Some people wore leaves, some people wore trees, and there was this one year wherein our tributes were dressed up as axes. It was horrible.

Blaine probably saw the anxiety on my face so he held my hand and smiled again. "Don't worry. You won't be a tree this year. Well, not a full tree anyway. And you will most definitely not be an axe." I chuckled and gave a sigh of relief. Blaine let go of my hand and crossed the room in quick strides, and returned to me holding what was supposedly my costume.

I looked at it not knowing how to react. It was better than a legit tree outfit, the kind of costume you wear for plays, no doubt about it. But to say that it was conservative would be the biggest lie I have ever told. It was the sort of thing that left little to the imagination. There were leaves woven together that covered only my chest. There were these twigs that were put together, and Blaine says that they go around my arm, sort of like sleeves, except these cover only my right upper arm. According to my stylist, my left arm would be completely bare except for a few markings of leaves and vines that he would put later. Then there are these shoulder pads which are made out of branches and twigs that resemble the antlers of a stag. As for my pants, well they reach only up to my knees, and they were composed of, you guessed it, twigs, barks and leaves. To top it all off, I had a red axe, which was really light, but judging by the appearance of the blade, it was really sharp as well.

I was having a dilemma. I mean, the closest I got to wearing something like this in public was when I wore a t-shirt that a relative gave to me, which happened to be too small. I was forced to wear it, out of courtesy, but I didn't like it because it was too tight around my chest and it showed half of my stomach. Not that I'm self-conscious or anything. I know I have a great body. Cutting down trees and lugging around wood or lumber can seriously do wonders to your physical appearance. But that doesn't mean I like showing it off.

When I was finally able to bring my eyes away from my costume and look at my stylist, I almost burst out laughing. Blaine was deathly pale and his confidence and charm was now replaced by a countenance of terror and nervousness. It was almost like his job and his life depended on how I would react to his design.

I grinned widely at the poor man. "Hey Blaine. What's wrong?" Blaine smiled weakly at me. He rubbed the back of his neck and replied "You know if you don't like the design, I can still do something about it. There were some other stylists and..." I snickered. He couldn't even meet my eyes. His face fell even more when he saw me laughing in glee and amusement. I was just about to end his misery and tell him that I actually like it when an offended Kurt storms in the room.

"My Blaine worked very hard on this costume. There were days when he didn't eat, didn't sleep, because he wanted to make sure that this would turn out well. So you, missy, have absolutely no right to laugh at him."

Kurt continued to ramble on and on and he was starting to look like the angry Grizzly bear that chased me last summer when I tried to play with one of its cubs. Blaine was just staring at his boyfriend, his face looking completely grateful and adoring. By now I was laughing hysterically.

When I managed to calm down, and look them straight in the eyes without breaking into another fit of laughter, I told Kurt, "Hey chill ladyface. I'm not insulting your boyfriend here or anything. I promise." Then I turned to Blaine who was still looking at me with eyes full of dread with what I was about to say. "I love the design. It would definitely catch the attention of sponsors. And it doesn't look too bad either. Just the right balance of sexiness and badass. Which is pretty much what I am."

Blaine looked like he couldn't believe what he just heard. When my words finally sunk into his brain, he broke into a wide grin. He turned to his boyfriend and gave him a quick kiss. When he pulled away, I was positive that there was a tinge of red on their cheeks.

"Thank you Johanna," Blaine turned to me and hugged me, looking like a puppy with all that affection in his eyes. "You don't know how much this means to me. You've given me a chance to prove to others that I can make great designs that are worthy to be worn by tributes. I will be eternally indebted to you. If ever you need anything, anything at all, just ask me. I'll make sure that you get what you need in those Games."

I nodded and smiled at him. "Sure thing, man. Now get me into that kick-ass costume of yours."

-.-.-.-.-

An hour later I was done and ready to go. As I stared at myself in the full-length mirror, I smirked at my reflection. 'Not bad, Mason,' I told myself.

And really it wasn't bad at all. The costume hugged my body perfectly, accentuating every curve, every well-toned muscle that I had. The tattoos on my arm looked really cool, and it went great with everything else. The make-up was just right; it was subtle, which gave the illusion of a naturally glowing face. I thanked the gods that my stylist knew what he was doing and that he was really good at it.

Blaine made me look like a carefree girl; a girl that was forced into a costume and was dragged into a world she doesn't know about, a world she doesn't want to know about. But this girl has to join this world, no matter how cruel it is, because that's just the way it works. The trick was almost flawless; we would have been able to deceive anyone.

But there was a crack in the mask, a sign that the light-hearted girl was just a facade. Look beyond the innocent glow, the charming smile, and you would see the ferocity, the anger in her eyes. You would see in her the desire, no, the need for revenge, for justice to take its rightful place.

I will make people love me. I will make them sympathize with me. I will even make them think that I have no chance, that I am a mere weakling. But in the end I will satiate their thirst for bloodshed. I will come out of these Games triumphant.

I am Johanna Santana Lopez Mason. And I am the girl who fooled them all.

-.-.-.-.-

The parade was about to begin. Joe and I met up around 15 minutes ago and were just hanging out, talking by the horse stables. We were discussing about our plan of action, our strategy to get the attention of sponsors. We decided to go with sweet and friendly, because maybe then the sponsors would grow fond of us. Which means, they wouldn't want us to die, and in the Games, that matters a lot. The fierce side can appear later on.

In the middle of our conversation, I get this impulse to turn my head. To just stop talking, even for just a second, and just turn my head.

I've always trusted my gut before, and today wasn't any different. So I shut up, turned my head and looked.

Best. Decision. Ever.

There, standing a few metres from us, was a goddess. Somehow, while I was looking at her, time stood still. Everything seemed to make sense. All those thoughts about love, all those feelings that wouldn't go away, they were all leading up to this moment. To the moment when I would meet her.

She had long blonde flowing hair, and she had a fair skin complexion. She was wearing a black jumper that still managed to look good on her, and a hard hat with a headlight. Her body was well... amazing. Her arms and her leg muscles were toned, and I bet she had a set of defined abs too, judging by her small waist and her general body built. She had pink lips that were now formed into a pout, and I felt like I could just die right there. And those eyes, Jesus Christ! They were a clear shade of sapphire blue, and they seemed to sparkle with something that I couldn't quite figure out.

And in that moment, she turns her head my way and she looks straight at me. Her beautiful eyes widen a bit, as if she just had an epiphany, and her pout was replaced by a smile.

My heart starts beating to an entirely different rhythm, a different song that I would really like to name Heart Attack.

And hope flutters wildly in my chest. Because, maybe, she felt it too. All the impulses, all the feelings.

And I've never really believed in soul mates. In all that "fate" and "serendipity" and "being meant to be" crap. And while I do believe in love, I've never really believed in love at first sight. I couldn't really understand its logic. How can you fall in love with someone you barely know? How can you tell if this person is the one you're supposed to be with?

But for some reason, right now, those thoughts don't really seem as complicated as they were to me back then. Right now, I finally understand what people are talking about when they talk about love and fate.

And the girl looks at me, in a way no one has ever looked at me before. And it's like she can read my thoughts, and understand it better than anybody can. We formed a connection in that instant, and it was one that wouldn't be severed no matter what.

The feeling was exhilarating. It was like nothing I've ever felt in my life... and it scared me.

It scared me because I know I am starting to fall for a girl, at the wrong place and at the wrong time. Both of us were facing death, and only one can survive.

I have never been more frightened in my life.

But as I see her starting to walk towards me, I push away all those thoughts to the back of my head. 'I need to make this last,' I decided. 'I need to make every moment with this girl as memorable as possible.'

And then I see her getting closer to me. And she smiles even brighter than before and I find myself falling just a bit more. And I pray to any god that exists out there to make her fall for me as well.

My wish gets granted instantly.

And I would've been grateful too, if the wish wasn't taken literally.

The girl of my dreams suddenly slips. She would've fallen flat on her back, but then my reflexes turn out to be faster than I expected them to be. My hands find their place around her waist, and her hands slip around my neck out of instinct. Her eyes are shut tightly, probably as a way to brace herself for the fall that never really came.

She realized this after a few seconds and opened one eye. She peered at me and then grinned shyly at me. I couldn't help but grin back, amused. She started to stand up, without removing her hands from my nape, and I helped her regain her balance. When we were both upright, and still holding onto each other in a way that was too intimate for two people who just met, she giggled. It made me blush, and ethnics aren't even supposed to blush. What was this girl doing to me?

"So," she began. "You just saved me from embarrassing myself in front of all these-" she looks around and sees that aside from me and Joe (poor guy, I sort of forgot he was there), and the horses, nobody really saw her slip. "- horses. How can I ever repay you?" I chuckled at her playfulness. This girl can make me feel more comfortable than anybody else. With her, I feel like nothing can go wrong. With her, I feel like maybe the future holds something better for me after all.

Where has she been all my life?

"Well, I'm just trying to help a fellow tribute." I throw in a wink, just for fun, and she laughs. My heart soars again, and I declared a new mission in my head: Make this girl laugh as much as possible.

"Yeah well, Prince Charming, I still have to repay you." Her smile is still playful, but this time there's a certain warmth and gentleness about it that makes me melt. "Well, what if you and I had dinner?" I ask, with a hint of nervousness in my voice that I couldn't really hide. I have never ever asked out anyone in my entire life. What if she rejects me?

"I'd love that." She smiles even more tenderly, possibly because she noticed my apprehension earlier and she was trying to calm me down. I feel positively relieved and I grin dorkily at her, and she laughs that laugh of hers that sounds like tinkling bells, while I take in every feature of her face, trying to memorize each contour, and trying to etch it in my mind,

And we stay like that for I don't know how long, holding each other and looking at each other, and I've never felt happier.

And I suddenly had a revelation: I want to make memories with this girl. That way, even if I die, I still have something worthwhile to remember in the afterlife. This one would only be the beginning.

We're snapped out of the trance-like state that we managed to put each other into by the sound of an alarm siren, signifying that the parade was about to begin. I look at her sadly, not really wanting her to go, but she holds my hand and she rubs circles on it with her thumb. "Hey it's all right. We'll see each other around. After all, I still owe you dinner." She smiles at me one last time before she heads back to where her district partner is, looking more like she's floating than walking.

I'm pretty sure it's because that girl is too pure and too good to walk on this sinful earth.

"Who was that?" Joe asks me. I give him a lovestruck grin. "That was my soulmate, man."

He grins and shakes his head at my current state. "That's pretty obvious, dude. You were like staring at each other, as if no one else really mattered. What I mean is, what was her name?"

It takes me five seconds before the full implication of what he was trying to say hit me.

Oh shit.

"I totally forgot to ask her name didn't I?"

-.-.-.-.-

I hear the crowds before I see them.

There was a flash of bright light and it blinds me, but that deosn't stop me from hearing deafening roar of the crowds.

When I finally see them, I try not to let my jaws fall to the floor.

The crowd was massive. Everywhere you look, the citizens of the Capitol are there, in diffrenet shapes and sizes and colors. I hear my name and Joe's being screamed from every direction. They were cheering, blowing kisses, throwing roses and doing almost everything they can just so we can spare a glance at them. For a moment I felt like a hero, like someone who was so high and noble and adored, and I was almost able to convince myself that this is something to be proud of.

Almost.

Until I remembered that this was just part of the Games. These people may love us now, but not as much as they would love seeing our blood spill on the ground in the arena. They act like we're the gods who descended from the heavens, but once we're in, they would start mocking our weakness, admiring our ability to kill, placing bets on who would die in less than a day. I start to seethe with rage, but then I remember that I was here for only one reason: To get the sponsors to like me. So I suck it all up, and I force the smile back onto my face, and our chariot, which was being pulled by two beautiful palomino horses with dark manes, lurched forward.

Have you ever ridden a chariot?

If you haven't, then I suggest that you don't try. At all.

The first few minutes are alright. You don't really feel anything in the beginning. In fact, there's even a sense of thrill. But chances are, the ride would last for more than a few minutes and after a while it gets really uncomfortable. You lose your balance several times, there isn't really much to grip on, and your legs start cramping. It's even worse for Joe and me, because we're under the pressure of trying to look as likeable as we can, so we have to keep the smile on our faces and just keep on waving ang winking at the crowds, even though we're wincing inwardly and latching on to the nearest part of the chariot that can keep us upright.

To distract myself from my aching legs, I looked at my reflection on the big screen,

I was smoking hot.

Blaine couldn't have done a better job.

I let my signature smirk spread out on my face, and then I look at the other tributes. They're not so bad, I suppose. But when it comes to pulling off the costume, nobody does a better job than me.

Except for the girl I met earlier that is.

At that moment, my eyes find her. She's on this chariot that's being pulled by two coal black horses, along with this guy who's a bit short. He was wearing the same thing as her, except the sleeves of his jumper were longer, and they were both carrying tools like rockdrills and wedges. And all of a sudden she turns and she looks at me. My breath hitches, and I grin widely. She waves a little bit, and she smiles back. But in her cobalt eyes, I see... hesitation? Apprehension? Anxiety? Or maybe... fear?

I frown. Did I do something wrong?

Once again. our unwavering gaze is broken by the blowing of a horn. She mouths 'I'll talk to you later' to me, and she brings her attention back to the ecstatic crowds. That's the only time I notice that we were approaching the end and that the chariot has slowed down.

Finally we came to a halt. I looked up and saw some old guy with fluffy white hair. He looked kind in a sinister sort of way, if that was even possible. The look of him gave me the creeps. He tapped the microphone twice, seemingly asking for silence. The crowd grew quiet.

"Welcome, tributes," he began. "Welcome, welcome. You have all been selected to participate in this year's 70th annual Hunger Games. I'm sure that it is a great honor to be your respective districts' representatives." He stopped for a moment and surveyed the tributes. When his eyes landed on me, my heart stopped, and not in a good way. No this was like the 'Oh-my-god-he's-going-to-do-something-to-me-but-I-don't-know-what-it-is-now-I'm-panicking-so-much-that-I'm-having-a-heart-attack' sort of heart stopping. There was just something so unnerving about him. "Good luck and happy Hunger Games. May the odds be ever in you favor."

A/N:

Back with another chapter. My friend Mariah wrote a good chunk of this. I'm TERRIBLE with mushy stuff. Anyway, I hope you enjoyed it. I edited Chapter 1. I realized that the tildes that I put disappeared. Yay! Brittany's here! Please review! Thanks!