Haiiiiiii guysssssss. So, I don't know how long this chapter will be, due to the fact that it's the chariot ride (possible more than that), but I'll try to make it longish. The next chapter will be longer, it will contain the first training day, and those are generally longish.

I don't know about you, but I, for one, am very thankful for spell check and grammar check.

The Chariot Ride

Seraphina (Sera) Garroway (14)

Apparently, the stylists and prep team were supposed to dress us up so we were half "Capitol-like" and half "natural"; or, at least that's what I heard from the murmurs of people as I was escorted to my awaiting prep team.

They looked normal enough, the three of them. Obviously, they had lost all of their fancy makeup and clothes as well. Maybe they just didn't have it in them to wear any of it. Or, maybe they had realized, like I that the citizens of the Capitol were real people under all of their accessories.

I winced as I lay down on my back on a cool slate of stone. Already, the stylists were muttering things to themselves, things like "poor girl", "what are these Games supposed to prove", and many other things about the rebels that I dare not repeat.

I felt something smooth move from the middle of my forehead, down my nose, and through my lips; cutting my face in half with a black makeup pencil. The stylists went to work on the left side of my face, taking turns putting on pounds of makeup and then fixing each others. The whole time, they left the right side of my face alone, and it felt so much cleaner than the other.

One lady with orange dye fading out of her curly brown hair took my arm and started drawing little music note all over my it. She then continued drawing them on my neck, and then on my face. I found this quite irrelevant, for I was not musically talented at all.

Someone tugged at my hair and I yelped as a few strands were pulled from my scalp. I glared at the young man who had done this, his hair white despite his young age. He dipped his head in an apology and started spraying the left side of my hair in stripes, starting at the top and coloring it neon yellow, and then bright yellow below that, and bright orange following that. He continued with the pattern for an agonizing long time while I just had to la on the cold slab and stare at the ceiling.

Finally, they had finished and I was left alone in the small, damp room. I knew my stylist would arrive shortly, so I sat up and stared at my reflection in the mirror that hung crooked on the wall, the flower wallpaper slowly peeling away. The scent of roses filled the air and I felt like gagging. The smell reminded me so much of the old President, who I had been unfortunate enough to meet when he had come to my school.

The right side of my face looked perfectly normal, all natural colors, my hair hung down simply, but it had been combed through and looked almost nice. The left side of my face, though... It looked destroyed, as if a child had draw all over it with a variety of colors. The musical notes didn't help, and neither did my multi colored hair which was out in some sort of bun on the side of my head. I had gotten neon pink contacts, and they made my eyes look wild and alive.

I gasped at the difference, looking at the different sides and comparing them. I used to look like this, I thought, staring at the left side - the fake side. I now understood why the all the prep teams were told to do this to their tributes, to see the difference. To show us that we weren't as far away front the people in the districts as we thought. To show us that there was nothing special about us, there was just a mask that covered up our natural features.

I jumped as the door swung open and a middle aged man walked in. He seemed to slide as he moved, and I saw that, instead of walking, he slid his feat on the ground; one in front of the other, never lifting them. His hair was as black as mine, his skin as pale too, but his eyes were an intense green and seemed to make his features even stranger.

For some unknown reason, he shook his head when he saw me, his hair falling into his eyes. He brushed it away with his hand and walked closer to me. His face was mere inches from mine, and I could smell alcohol and meat on his breath. The combination wasn't flattering, and I felt my eyes begin to water; little tears began falling from the edges.

"Hello," he hissed - literally - in a reptilian voice. If snakes could talk, I figured, this is how they would sound. "My name issss Balthar Combe, I will be your sssstylisssst."

I shivered, and he moved away, probably realizing I was uncomfortable with the closeness. I watched from the corner of my eye as he slid through a white door and returned carrying something on a hanger. I wrinkled my nose at the sight of the dress. It was like my makeup had been done, the right side was a simple, ivory dress that fell to my knee and was held a thin strap. On the right, though, was a lime green dress with about a million polka dots running the length of it in a rainbow of colors.

Balthar made me put it on, which I, for one, was not to pleased about. Once the dress was on, he zipped up the back for me and bent down to retrieve something from my floor. I looked in his hands and saw he was holding one white flat, and one five-inch heel black leather book with pink zebra stripes on it.

I put the flat on the right foot and the boot on the left, and may I say, it was not the most comfortable thing in the world. I had to hunch at a weird angle just so both feet were placed on the ground. I didn't understand how they expected me to stand, let alone walk, in these shoes. It seemed like a joke, and I waited the moment he would say "jusssst kidding, here'ssss your sssshoessss." Unfortunately for me, it wasn't a joke.

Balthar led me out of the room and through the building into the bigger building beside it that awaited all the chariots. I found Kian, looking angry and upset in a blue and green jumpsuit on his left and a formal black suit on his right. As soon as I reached him, he started to complain about his prep team and stylist, going on about how beautiful he was and how he didn't need any makeup, blah, blah, blah. I found it interesting as I half-listened to him to hear him complain about such things, because once would have worn something much like what he was wearing on his left side.

He kept talking, but I stopped listening altogether when he said something along the lines of "-and what are the girls going to think?". I scanned the room for Leandro, I saw a clump of, somewhat curly, brown hair and saw a his familiar, naturally tan skin and dark brown eyes. He and his family were even poorer than mine had been, and they had had four children, so, as you can imagine, his family had never been able to afford any of the fancy makeup or clothes or anything.

Now, half of his face looked like it was covered in sea-green scales, his eyes were neon green and his hair was hidden by a familiar black hat, which, of course, was worn backwards.

The hat reminded me of a time when he had gotten yelled at in front of my whole class for playing with it. Many had laughed, but I had just sighed and looked at the clock, wondering when the bell would ring. I don't know why I know so much about him, but thinking about him now, I realize that I know a lot more about him then I thought. He was kind of like Kian, I suppose. Everyone knew about him, but not for the same reasons everyone knew Kian. Leandro, although a year older than me, being 15, had been in my grade because he had gotten held back. Not because he was stupid, but because he was one of those people that was constantly getting in trouble. He got so many detentions that the teachers decided it would be best if he were held back.

I must have been staring at him, because once I had caught back up with reality, I saw that he was looking at me with a puzzled look. I turned around slowly, not letting any emotion take place on my features. I started to brush one of the horses with my hand.

The horses had been originally white, but now were each splattered in probably 30 difference shades of purple. The chariot, too, had been splattered with paint, but not just purple. There were probably 50 different colors all together, each so bright that I wouldn't be surprised if the chariot glowed it the dark. In fact, I would be surprised if you couldn't see the colors even in the darkest of night.

A whistle blew, telling us it was time to enter our chariots. Kian climbed up and offered me a hand, which I slapped aside and climbed up myself. We each held on to the front of the chariot and I watched as the first chariot went through the doors. I was shocked to hear screams of the crowd, and I wondered if the citizens of the Capitol were there. The people of the districts would be there, but I wasn't sure how many people had come to the Capitol. Some had stayed in their districts; some went to district 2, some to district 13. We all knew it by know, but I really didn't matter if we knew or not. We had lost the war.

Our chariot moved forward and I would've fallen off if I hadn't been holding on so tight. I heard a creaking noise, and saw it was coming from one of the wheels. It was an annoying, constant sound that made me want to rip it off. Luckily, the cheers blocked out the sound, and I stared out at the crowd.

I couldn't tell if the faces were citizens of the Capitol, or people from the districts. I doubted any Capitol citizens would attend this, but I scanned the crowd anyway, longing for a familiar face. It was over soon, too soon in my opinion. I needed more time; I needed to see if there were any Capitol citizens, I just had to. There had to be someone left anyone. They couldn't all be dead, could they? Maybe they were helping each other.

I cursed myself inwardly; it was foolish to think such things. Like they would ever help us, I thought bitterly and then scolded myself for doing so. The Capitol and the districts had never gotten along, period.

The chariot stopped abruptly and I was sent falling forward. I nearly fell over the front of the chariot, and would have if Kian hadn't grabbed my arm and hauled be back into a standing position.

"Good one, Sera," he laughed, a smirk playing on his lips.

"Shut it, Kian. You don't have to wear a flat shoe on one foot, and a boot with a five-inch heel on the other." I snapped, glaring at him and rubbing my hands from where I had clenched the front of the chariot.

I really needed to start paying more attention. I kept getting distracted and it was getting more than annoying. That was clearly someone I needed to work on before I went into the arena. If I got this distracted in the Games, I would be killed in the bloodbath.

Even anyone has the guts to kill someone, that is.

I looked up at the balcony of the President's old house. Katniss stood there, Peeta by her side like always. Johanna Mason was there as well - a past victor who had survived the 75th Hunger Games as well as her own. There were other people with her - too many to name, and not of much importance. I realized Katniss was finishing up a speech a second later, and listened to the last few words she had to say.

Once she was done, we were escorted out of our chariots by Peacekeepers. Another disadvantage us Capitol kids had this year was that we didn't have a mentor or an escort. They expected us to do everything by ourselves. It also meant I'd be eating dinner alone, with Kian, and that was something I was not looking forward to.

The Peacekeepers escorted each pair of tributes to an awaiting car, which they were loaded into and then driven away. Typically, Kian and I were the last to leave, just because our Peacekeepers were so nice and offered everyone else the cars.

The ride to the hotel was silent, neither I nor Kian made any attempt to talk, so it ended up being more awkward than it needed to be. The driver occasionally asked us a question, but our answers were usually only yes or no, or - if the occasion called for it - a few short words. He told us that we were staying on floor 5 and that if we ever needed anything that we could call him, and he gave us a card with his number on it.

We arrived at the hotel and took the elevator up to the 5th floor. The door opened, revealing a living room with a giant flat-screen TV, and a long, wooden dining table. There were two doors outside of the living room that I figured went to our rooms. I walked through the door and went to the first door, leaving Kian behind me. I was much too tired to talk, and if I were to talk to anyone right now, it certainly would not be him.

I pushed open the door, inside was a queen-size bed with a table on either side, a giant window looking out at the streets below, and two more doors on the far side of the room. There was also a big drawer to one side, and I went there first.

I looked through the nightgowns, and picked up a long white one with sleeves that reached my ankles. I pulled it out and opened one of the doors; inside we're rows of clothes, all hanging on different racks. I closed the door and opened the next one, showing a white tiled floor with a toilet leading off to one side, a big bathtub, a sink with a mirror, and a shower.

I tore the shoes off my feet and threw them at the door; they made a satisfying thud when they hit, and I grinned, happy to be free of them for the rest of my life. However long that is, an amused voice said in the back of my mind. I glared inwardly and shook it off, trying to forget about it.

I took of the annoying dress and grabbed a towel, soaking it before scrubbing the makeup off my face and arms. Once it was all gone, I stepped into the shower, enjoying the warm water on my body. My mind started drifting to different subjects until it landed on one I hadn't thought of before.

If I were to be in an alliance, who would I trust more, Kian or Leandro? I went over it a few times in my head, not exactly coming up with a conclusion to that exact question, but I did decide on something.

If anything, I was going to play these games by myself. An alliance would just turn on me, like they always did in these Games. A wasn't a people person anyway.

I'm sorry this chapter was so boring! Don't worry. The next chapter won't be boring, I promise! R&R! No hate!