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Maysilee

Once we step foot out onto the platform I'm not able to take much in because we are quickly whisked off into a car to be taken to the Remake Center. All I could comprehend was bright colors and lots of people.

When we arrive at the Remake Center we are ushered to separate rooms to be made up for the Opening Ceremonies.

I'm pushed into a room and then I hear the door click closed behind me. I notice a table with a mirror surrounded by lights on all borders and a chair situated in front of it. I make my way to the chair and sit down and wait for my prep team to arrive. As I wait I scan the rest of the room and my eyes land on a rack with what must be my costume hanging from it in zipped up bags. I can't see inside the bags and I instantly become nervous. We are all supposed to be costumed according to what product our district produces. Mostly the tributes from twelve are dressed in hideous minors' outfits, but there have been other occasions were the outfits have been way more mortifying. One year the tributes were stark naked and covered in coal dust! The thought terrifies me. While I don't care if I look gorgeous for the Capitol or the districts I still want to get sponsors, and usually the most attractive tributes acquire the best sponsors. Sponsors can send you things in the arena and sometimes it can make the difference between your life and death. One year a girl who was on death's door was sent what was perceived to be a metal looking pencil but when the top was pressed down it turned into a spear. That girl went on to becoming that year's victor. So I silently pray that I will be dressed in something absolutely stunning.

Five minutes later my prep team arrives. I'll never be used to the style in the Capitol. It's something of a joke in the districts. You can see anything from purple skinned people to people with studs sticking out of their skin!

My team consists of two girls and one guy, all of whom seem to be in their mid-twenties. One of the girls, who I learn is named Ophie, has straight blonde hair with light blue highlights and light blue skin. She also has darker blue swirl tattoos covering her arms and face. I think it's safe to assume she's fond of the color blue. The other girl, Tara, is purple skinned with pink hair and a golden crown positioned in her hair. The guy, Caius, has curly orange hair and is green skinned. I don't see how this is fashionable; he looks like a carrot to me.

The prep team goes to work removing all the hair from my body, aside from my head, which stings like you can't imagine! Then they lather my body with a lotion that soothes my aching skin.

"You're so lucky to be apart of a legendary Quarter Quell!" Tara exclaims while she styles my long blonde hair.

"It will be…interesting" I reply. It was the best thing I could come up with that didn't agree or disagree with her comment. While I am not thrilled to be apart of the games at all I don't want to start arguments with these people. I'm not a fan of arguing, even if it's with people from the Capitol that I have never met.

Ophie, who is working on my makeup, then goes on to say, "Your adorable, you'll be sure to have tons of sponsors! I bet you even have all the boys lined up for you back home!"

Her comment makes me blush, which I seem to be doing a lot of lately, as my mind turns to Haymitch and I wonder what he is doing right now. Probably arguing with his prep team.

While the girls have been doing my hair and makeup, Caius has been working on my nails. Trimming and painting them black which must be a representation of the black coals back home. He asks me a question that catches me off guard due to the fact that it has nothing to due with the Quell or looks, "How are you doing without your twin sister?"

First off I'm surprised that he paid enough attention to the reaping to take note that I have a twin and second I'm surprised that he asked me something so personal.

"O-okay so far" I mumble. The truth is I'm doing terrible and I miss her more than anything! But I don't want to talk about my sister right now; it hurts too much, hence my reply.

My prep team finishes making me over while talking about their daily lives. They don't ask my any more questions, so I just nod here and there to be polite but don't offer anything else. They all bid me farewell for the day and promise that they'll see me tomorrow. I'm not sure why, but I don't mind the prospect of seeing them again.

It takes my stylist 10 minutes to show up and while I wait I examine the work that my prep team did. Tara used mascara, eyeliner, and orange eye shadow; all of which are completely foreign to me. Even though I come from a merchant family we don't have any of these beauty supplies in the districts. She also applied coal dust in artistic swirls on face and hands which matches the color of my nails. Ophie turned my naturally straight hair into soft curls. I don't look like myself, I look like someone from the Capitol and it bothers me tremendously. Hopefully this means the sponsors will like it.

When my stylist walks in she introduces herself as Jolene. She's an elderly woman who must be in her sixties. She barks at me to stand up and I immediately follow her orders. As I stand there she squints her eyes and looks me over.

She sighs and says, "I guess you will do."

What is she going to do, exchange me? I know without further interaction that I am not going to like this woman. She's too rude and doesn't seem to care about other people's feelings. Though, what should I expect, she's from the Capitol.

She throws the contents of the rack at me and orders me to change. I grudgingly put everything on. My costume seems to consist of a black skin tight suit, an orange vest, black boots, an orange hard helmet, and plastic black pick axe.

I'm relieved that I'm not naked and I have to admit the outfit isn't half bad compared to some of the other miners' outfits' district twelve tributes have been forced to wear.

After Jolene deems my outfit is put on properly she turns on her heel and marches out the door. Just as I wonder what I'm supposed to do I hear her yell, "Come!" and I race after her.

We arrive at the District Twelve chariots and I notice that most of the other chariots are already gone. Good. I didn't really want to sit through watching all the other chariots ride out into the crowd of the City Circle. My anxiety about this whole ordeal is bad enough as it is. The only ones left are the ones from eleven and twelve, the last district ten chariot is just heading into the circle. I scan the other tributes from my district and see that we are all dressed similarly. This usually happens but I just wanted to make sure that I'm not the only one forced to wear this costume.

Since there is twice the amount of tributes the Capitol had to come up with twelve more chariots for the Opening Ceremonies. Our stylists quickly decided who will be in what chariot and I end up in the first one from district twelve with Haymitch.

He helps me up into the chariot and my heart quickens as he sits beside me. It's just nerves I tell myself, why would it be more than that? I've never really talked to Haymitch much before. Yeah it's the nerves, it's has to be.

Haymitch must have noticed my anxiety because he grabs onto my hand. It's strange, holding on to his hand calms me down a bit. It must be because he's from home so it reminds me of something familiar in this strange place.

The announcer reports that we're up next so the horses start pulling the chariot forward, and as we round the corner we are blinded from the lights and cameras. We have entered the City Circle.

Haymitch

I have to admit, at first I'm impressed by the beauty of the Capitol. Then, I realize that instead of keeping the people of the districts alive, they are wasting a ton of money on useless stuff to make their city 'pretty'. The districts provide everything for the capitol. Electronics, peacekeepers, seafood, food in general, coal, etc. We provide everything! You'd think that they would help by at least making sure that we all had food to eat so we could provide this stuff! But apparently not.

To anger me more, I guess, a bulky peacekeeper shoves me into a car. The car drives us tributes to the Remake Center where we are going to meet our stylists and they are going to 'pretty' us up for the opening ceremony.

I look out the window and see freaky people waving at me. They all look weird with their multiple colored skin, strange tattoos and funky hair. You never see any of that in district twelve. Oh and I can't forget about the horrid clothing they have on. What's wrong with normal clothes? All I can say is, I hope my stylist doesn't dress me like that.

The car comes to an abrupt stop. The door opens quickly and some peacekeepers yank us out. I am shoved into a room with a chair, a robe, and a ton of products on the table that scare me a little.

As I wait for my prep team, I examine some of the supplies. There are bottles, tubes, and tools that I have never seen or heard of. I have no idea what they are going to do to me, but I just have this feeling that I am not going to like it.

My prep team comes in. There are three of them. Two guys and one girl. One of the guys, with orange hair and pink swirls tattooed all over his body, introduces himself as Clovis. The other guy, Marcus, has black hair, and all of the colors of the rainbow dyed into his skin. The girl, Carletta, has her hair bleached white with red highlights and gold stripes all over her body.

They begin with the cleaning process. Every inch of my skin is cleaned and even some layers were taken off. The dirt is removed from underneath my nails and extra hairs are ripped off of my face.

My whole body is tingling with pain. The products they used to clean me stung and even burned. After hours of torture, they rub me down with this lotion that soothes my sore skin.

My prep team is talking the whole time. Going on and on about the games, gossip in the Capitol, and telling me how amazing I am going to look for the opening ceremony.

Finally, they see me fit enough to call my stylist. They tell me his name is Sampson.

When Sampson comes in the room my prep team leaves. I can already tell that this guy isn't going to talk a lot like my prep team. But, I can also tell that he and I aren't going to get along. At all.

He looks at me. Then, he glares at me.

"I am Sampson, your stylist." He says. "I see that we are going to have a lot of work to do. Do you live on the streets or something?"

"Well, I'm Haymitch, the kid you are readying up for slaughter." I say. His comment annoys me. While he's living the life in the Capitol, I've been working my butt off, trying to make it through each day.

"Quit with the attitude. You'll regret it if you don't." He threatens.

"Quit with the snide comments. We don't all get to live like you do in the Capitol." I snarl.

"Well that's not my problem, is it?" He retorts. "Put these on." He throws me a tightly fit black suit, black boots, orange vest and hard helmet, and a pick axe.

I put them on quickly and I look at myself in the mirror. At least I don't look like the Capitol people…yet. Actually, it's a better outfit than what District Twelve has had to wear in the past.

Sampson shoves me into a chair and calls Carletta back into the room.

"Put coal dust on his face and take him to the chariots. I'm going to have a drink." He says to her.

She starts with the black eyeliner and then brushes the coal dust around my eyes and on my cheek bone.

"You know," she says, "before you came we were all warned of your fiery personality. But, I find you quit delightful! I don't really have a problem with you like they said we would."

"Who told you that?" I ask. I guess I had that coming, but that does not mean that I'm going to give in and let the Capitol own me.

"The peacekeepers… and your mentor. They said you have an attitude problem. But I don't think you really do, you are very nice to me! Trust me; I've been on a prep team for total snobs before!" She glances at a clock. "Oh, it's time to go!"

We walk to the chariots. Most of the other chariots have gone on their way to the city center.

I am assigned to ride the first chariot with Maysilee Donner. There are two chariots for each district this year because there are twenty-four extra tributes. Normally, they only have one for each district.

I help Maysilee onto the chariot and hop on. I look at her and see that she is shaking. I grab her hand as reassurance. For both me and her. The chariot starts and we follow the other chariots to the City Center.