Chester pressed his nose eagerly up to the window of the train car as Seraphinite called to him and Thea that they were pulling into the Capitol. His bright green eyes stretched wide as the powerful capital of Panem came into view. It was like nothing the young District boy had ever seen.
"This sure isn't District 9," he murmured in awe as he tried to look everywhere at once. There were daunting, massive buildings that seemed to scrape the flawless blue sky, leaving white scratches of clouds.
The Capitol didn't revolve around the sun. The sun revolved around it.
The buildings were every color Chester had ever seen and then some. Red, blue, yellow, green, magenta, striped, rainbow, fuchsia, navy blue, the blackest black imaginable, the brightest white fathomable, the loudest orange anyone had ever seen. The houses ranged from the size of a typical one-story District 9 house to multi-story mansions that fanned out around the edge of the bright city streets that lay towards the center. Gardens exploded from backyards and front yards and window boxes and pots. Vines stole the tree trunks, roses bloomed three times the size of any the boy had ever seen, bushes were cut into shapes and designs. It was fantastic, it was unbelievable, it was like a dream.
A nightmare.
Chester pulled away from the window, his heart hammering in his chest as though he had just woken up from a horrifying concoction of his subconscious. He was relieved to hear the District 9 escort calling him to the main room of the train car. He glanced out at the window one last time and noticed the tracks were elevated, spiraling down to the station. He noticed cars, things he had only read about in school books.
He raced to the dining-and-living room, fear replaced with excitement. "Seraphinite, do you think we'll get to ride in a car? I've always wanted to. Maybe if I'm extra careful they'll let me take one apart and look at it! Do you think so?"
Seraphinite ignored him completely. Thea giggled quietly behind her curtain of silky chestnut-colored hair. For a moment, Chester's smile faltered, but he plastered it back on as the woman with the dark green hair began to speak.
"Now, when the train comes to a stop, you will be escorted to the training center—"
"In a car?" Chester interjected hopefully.
"—Where you will be prepped for the chariot rides that are happening this evening—"
"Will we go to the chariot rides in a car?"
"—You are expected to do exactly as your prep team and stylists tell you. After the chariot rides, you will be escorted back to the training center—"
"ARE WE GOING TO BE RIDING IN ANY CARS?" Chester burst out.
Seraphinite gave a heavy sigh, turning to face the fourteen-year-old boy with an exasperated expression. "The train station is right next to the training center, as is the arena for the chariot rides. You will not be riding in any cars no matter how badly you want to, and you certainly will not be allowed to take one apart or drive one yourself. You are a piece of the Hunger Games. Your purpose is to entertain the Capitol, not to have the Capitol entertain you."
He lowered his head, staring intently at his feet. Of course. I was just being stupid, Chester thought obligingly, blinking furiously as Seraphinite continued.
"The training center has a lobby and twelve other floors, one for each of the Districts. We will obviously be on the 9th floor after the ground floor. To get there, just push the button marked "9" in the elevator. It would be best for you not to visit the floors of the other Districts, no matter how strong an alliance you make."
You're going to die; no point making friends with the ones to kill you. You can't win, you're just a stupid little boy who likes cars.
Chester breathed in and out evenly as he felt the train begin to slow down. "You'll be shown to the District floor before being sent down to be prepped for the chariots," Seraphinite said as a final word. Chester felt himself nodding, but he couldn't think of why he was doing the action. He stilled his head, looking out the window at the shiny and clean train station. Nothing like the rusty, run-down station back at home. The boy sighed, looking away from the window and glancing at Thea. She gave him a tiny, sympathetic smile which he returned shyly before looking away.
Seraphinite ushered them out of the train car. The first thing Chester noticed was that the rain from earlier had disappeared. The second thing he noticed was the pleasant smell that hung in the air. It didn't smell like dirt or death or sickness—scents District 9 had caused him to be accustomed to. The air smelled of flowers and baked goods and hairspray. It melded together to form a soothing aroma that caught Chester in a daze as he was led inside.
Entering the lobby came with a whole new wave of curiosity. Every surface was sterilized and scrubbed to shining point. The floor was tiled with a red that reflected those who walked over it. Chester shivered and tore his eyes away from the crimson, wondering if it served a purpose greater than simple decor. The hall was lined with metal couches accented with deep red cushions. There was a great chrome desk at the head of the room. A woman with striking vermilion hair sat with her feet up on the desk, her red high heels tapping aimlessly against the surface. She had next to her a bottle of deep red nail polish and was casually painting the talon-like nails on her fingers. Seraphinite waved the tributes off towards the polished elevator doors with Reese while she went over to the desk.
A little excitement returned to Chester as he hit the button on the wall. He'd never ridden in an elevator before. After a quick pause the doors slid open and the three stepped inside. Chester hardly noticed the red carpeting as he hit the button labeled "9" on the panel. The small room gave a little shake and began to shoot upwards. Chester grabbed onto the metal railing and grinned. The elevator shuddered to a stop and the doors slid open, revealing their quarters for the next few days.
Chester stepped out with Thea and Reese behind him into a large living room. The couches were a playful light green color with a white throw rug between them. The floors were a light hardwood, impeccably treated. There were leafy potted plants placed throughout the room. A massive TV separated the two couches, facing a massive window. To the right was a green wall displaying framed pictures of previous winners from District 9. To the left was the kitchen and dining room, separated by a white marbled-topped breakfast bar. The appliances were top notch, better than Chester had ever seen. A hallway led past the living and dining rooms for several dozen meters, the walls dotted with doors.
"There's a bedroom for each of you, as well as one for me and one for Seraphinite," Reese explained in her quiet voice. "Each room has a bathroom of its own. If you need anything, ever, avoxes will always be around to service you. Now, it's time to see your stylists."
It was all so perfect.
Too perfect.
Letting out an ear-splitting shriek, October launched herself out of the elevator. She had to fix it. It couldn't be so perfect. She threw herself at the deep blue couch nearest to her and flung the cushions across the room. One of the picture frames on the wall fell, shattering the glass. The sound excited October. She took the other three cushions and catapulted them, causing two more frames to fall.
Vaulting over a couch to the nearest potted plant, she dealt a fierce kick to the pot. Dirt spilled across the clean wooden floors. She tore a few leaves off the thing before bracing one foot against the pot and uprooting the whole damn thing with an impressive heave.
She pivoted on her heel, catching a glimpse of a shocked Marshall and Howlite in her peripheral vision. She grinned, flinging open the kitchen cabinets and sweeping the dinner plates out with gusto. They hit the smooth tile floor with a deafening crash. October cackled.
Footsteps sounded behind her. Marshall was approaching quickly, his body tense. "October, get a hold of yourself," he said, his voice wavering slightly. The girl was faintly aware of the elevator doors opening again.
His face was perfect.
Too perfect.
With a mighty snarl, October pulled back her fist and connected it with his perfect nose. The boy stumbled back in horror, clutching his face. A set of applauding hands caught October's attention. Her green eyes, sparkling with rage, honed in on the source of the sound.
Slash.
Her mentor was leaning against the open door of the elevator, his scarred hands slowly praising her performance. He straightened up and stepped out of the elevator. The doors closed behind him. His dark brown eyes fixed themselves onto October's green ones. He gave a twisted smile.
"It's wrong to encourage fighting between tributes when it's against the rules, but hell, that was quite a show. I give my respects to whoever taught you to punch like that. It's a shame the room is such a sty now, but you can't win them all."
He chuckled—if it could be called chuckling—at his own joke before continuing.
"You have guts, and I like that." Turning to Marshall, he added, "Your stylists will clean you up. I won't doubt that bitch is broken, but they can make it look just fine for the chariots, and it won't hold you up in the arena.
"Speaking of stylists, it's time to meet yours. And will someone clean this up?"
An avox appeared immediately. If he was shocked to see the mess, his face didn't betray it. He simply began to pick up the cushions of the couches, stepping carefully to avoid the broken glass.
Slash led October and Marshall—still covering his nose with his hands—back to the elevator. They returned to the lobby and went through a door at the back of the room. A staircase lay behind it, and at the foot of that there stretched a long hallway. Another flight of stairs and they found themselves in a room very different from the one they had just left.
The entire room was a striking white color. In contrast, the furniture consisted of loud neon colors. Bright orange couches, sunny yellow throw rugs, hot pink pillows, neon green plants, brilliant blue picture frames. October blinked furiously to rid her eyes of the spots that were swimming before them.
Before a word could be said, two prep teams swooped out of an elevator that blended into the wall so well that October had not previously noticed it. The sight of the gaggle caused a little bile to rise in her throat, and she swallowed quickly to avoid vomiting.
She didn't have a second to take in Marshall's group before her own prep team whisked her into the elevator and sent them upwards. "I'm Celebrite!" a young woman chirped. Her skin was silver, and it sparkled when it caught the light. Her hair was a violent pink color, creating a watermelon effect with her bright green eyes. "I'm your very own prep-person-thing. Joshua here will also be playing prep, but he's your real stylist," she added, flashing a smile at the handsome young man standing next to her. His hair was a radiant red color. In contrast, the color of his eyes was so dark that they looked like two gleaming black orbs.
"I thought I had a few people in a prep team, then a stylist," October said accusingly.
"Times have changed, dearie!" Celebrite sang, leading October out of the elevator and into a room filled with mirrors and make-up and clothes and appliances October could only assume were used in the process of taking someone from dirty District child to glamorous Capitol star. The two didn't waste time.
"Go on then," Joshua said, his voice smooth and dark. "Undress so we can get a look at you."
October flushed a deep red. "No, thank you," she said as coolly as she could, looking anywhere but at the two Capitol citizens.
Celebrite gave the girl a sympathetic smile. "There's no need to be embarrassed, hon. This is our job. It's not like we're going to rape you."
Oh, that's comforting, October thought dryly, reaching begrudgingly for the hem of her top.
AN: Oh look, an update! If you care for status reports on updates and life, feel free to check my profile. Reviews are always appreciated~