Jonathan and Katie are whisked into the world of first looks, where Capitolites parade their fantasies around at seeing what the tributes look like. How will the fated pair fair?

I gritted my teeth together as Arkon, a man part of my prep team, plucks off another hair on my chest. In his current state of doing so, he placed a strip of gauze across my chest and swiped, taking off a swipe of my chest hair with it in pain. I hissed, clenching the sides of the armchair I had been laid back in. God, I have never felt such a pain as the one I was experiencing. I wasn't a particularly 'manly' teenager where I'd be covered in bushels of hair from head to toe, but it seemed to go on for agonizing hours as I was bent underneath a limelight swinging from above. The intoxicating smells of perfumes and lotions that I've never experienced filled the air, causing my eyes to water and my nose to burn at the purely ghastly concoctions floating above like tornadoes.

"Sorry Jonathan, but you guys aren't allowed to come in with any hair on your chest or any other part of the body!" Arkon apologized, smiling sheepishly at me. I could see in his eyes that he wasn't particularly sorry. If only I could rip off his precious cape of hair.

I glared at Arkon, whose velvet hair kept on slapping me in the face pointedly. Arkon's eyes flashed gray in annoyance, the Capitol having another weird DNA change in their people's appearances. He was the first of the aardvark trio to greet me when Georgia whisked me away into some mausoleum with high rise glass windows and porcelain tiled walls. Another worker, next to my right, was working on my feet and hands, wiping them off, swiping the dirt from my caked toenails. Bathing in dirty water in District 12 gave us back dirty results.

"Ugh, Jonathan... why are your feet covered in a six foot layer of dirt?" the girl doing my feet asked angrily. She had luminescent sea foam green hair, the style outrageously done in something I believed to be called a 'bun', this massive agglomeration of hair and hair clips mounding at the back of her skull, almost adding enough weight where she teetered over occasionally if her head titled too far to one side.

I smiled sheepishly at her, seeing as she seemed genuine compared to Arkon. "Sorry Venus, it is just a force of habit that our feet get dirty in District 12."

Venus broke a grin back at me, her face moving like a cartoon. I'd admit that the general mood of these stylists were happy and uplifting and swooning over a new gentleman. The way Arkon would eye me while getting new pieces of gauze sent shivers up my spine, an enticing look in his eyes while he got rid of the hair on my body. He didn't look half bad if it wasn't for the horribly caking makeup powdered onto his face. Venus rubbed a little too hard on one of my big toes, the feeling harsh and burning, a hiss rewarding her for her efforts. Venus made a sympathetic face, muttering a sorry, the tapioca colored swirls on her face moving like a puppet. "Luckily for you, I've seen worse."

Arkon ripped away the last piece of gauze from my chest, the pain flaring and subsiding, before flinging the disgusting piece of tape-like material off his fingers. Turning around to face someone I couldn't see, he barked, "Mervel, get the scissors and start cutting this pitiful creature's hair!"

Mervel, a man with skin the color of the azure sky, moved towards me from behind a curtain, holding a wicked pair of shears. Though part of me felt like I was dipping into hyperbole territory, I hadn't the faintest idea what the contraption in his hands - certainly not for cutting hair, because if Arkon was serious, I think I need to take medication - would cut off my ears if the man, who I didn't exactly trust, got too close for comfort. Mervel saw my aghast face, and he cooed. "Don't worry; I'm only going to cut a few feet of hair."

I backed away, up on the chair, my foot kicking Venus in the face. I don't have time to utter an apology when Arkon intervened, blocking me from Mervel's grasp. "What are you doing?" he asks incredulously.

Mervel paled at the question, the velvet haired man booming it like a drill sergeant. "I'm obviously going to cut his hair."

Arkon glared back, anger burning in his eyes. "I said cut the hair! Not so you take half of his head off with it!"

Mr. Fake Sweeney Todd dropped the shears in panic. "Sorry Arkon, my mistake."

I glanced at the two men with confusion. Unless what I saw happened only once in a blue moon, these two men were put on the same team for prettying up tributes in what I'd imagine to be a long time. If they fought like this on every occasion... goodness, how did anything get done? What on earth was going on between them?

"Gentlemen," Venus chided, lowering the towel from my foot to dry it off. "Let's get Jonathan all finished up. He has to be at the chariots in a little bit and our arguing will not get him there any faster!"

The men sighed, Mervel retreating behind the curtain once more to do whatever he had been doing before he tried to almost cut my ear off. Arkon took to doing my hair instead, combing some of the bangs I had out of my eyes. He sighed a little, swiping up as the comb passed over my scalp, chills sliding down my spine. "Are you excited for the games this year, Venus?" he asked.

"I am!" she exclaimed. "Last year was amazing, but I think this year will top the ones in the last decade, wouldn't you agree?"

Mervel piped up from the back with a laugh. "Watching that poor little sap beg for his life before the Career from 4 speared him... that was so hilarious! He couldn't beg even if he tried!"

I wrinkled my nose in disgust. Their behavior was appalling. I'm just glad they hadn't turned to me to ask me a question on what I thought about the games from last year, because those were absolutely dreadful. While I was happy that the quiet, shy girl from District 2 who had opted out of the Career pack won, the way she did it... it took the district representing masonry to a whole other level by figuratively and literally dropping the ball on the entire group of Career tributes left that were currently hunting her.

Venus looked up at me. "Are you afraid of the games, Jonathan?" I was unsure whether or not her curiosity had been genuine or purely wanting to see how far she could get under my skin.

Before I had the chance to answer, which I was gracious for the interruption in hindsight, the front door to the designing room flew open with a slam. Arkon and Mervel glanced at the entrance nervously, and Venus stopped washing my feet immediately, actually having finished and set the towel down on the floor. In front of me was the most normal person I had ever seen in the Capitol, and that was saying something. A lady stood before me holding a long piece of loom in her hands, though I did not know the fabric. Her auburn hair was up in a bun similarly to how Venus had hers, but this woman's was lower and more flat, like a dinner plate. Two chopsticks were through both sides, making an x. She was dressed in a kimono, the midnight fabric accentuating her tanned curves, the kimono covered in carnation pink rose petals. Her eyes were flickered with gold in the dreamy, luscious forest green that blinked at me, and above her eyes were a few swathe lines of pink eye shadow - nothing too strong, yet nothing too weak - which looked quite appealing on this woman, I had to admit. Then, the lady spoke, and it was as if her voice had been dipped in a sweet amber honey, the words flowing like water on a rock over my ears, and she sounded absolutely divine.

"Thank you Arkon, Mervel, Venus for your help," the woman spoke to the other three ditz, Venus and Arkon physically bowing to this woman. Was she the president of fashion like the president to our country? I couldn't quite tell. The lady folded her arms over each other. "It is now my time to work my magic. If I could have the room," she smiled pleasantly.

Mervel took for the hills first, running past the woman where his sky blue skin blended in with the wall. Arkon shook my hand goodbye, giving me a lasting wink while he then strolled down the hall.

Venus brushed shoulders with me. "This is your main stylist, Rose," she said, kissing me on the forehead. I liked her the most of the three I had for my prep team. "Be nice. She takes fashion seriously. That means you should take her seriously," she warned me, before briskly walking down the hall.

Rose shut the door behind her and turned to me, my heart melting at the perfect sight. I had heard from dissenters of the Capitol - though I didn't generally expect there to be fans of such a cruel society - that often times all the grandeur and luxuries were to purely draw you in before someone spit you back up and devoured you when least expecting it. Looking at her, this Rose person, from afar, I hadn't gotten quite that mantra at all. She was beautiful, at least in looks if not mannerisms and emotions too. "My name is Rose Arsenwood, your stylist."

I laughed airily, an actual giggle full of life and color and flavor. "So I've heard."

Rose held out a manicured hand and I took it, shaking it heartily. From the oddball circus I had to deal with in the matter of Arkon, Venus, and Mervel, one lady in the world who seemed to have all of her marbles in one place was a light breath of fresh air. "I've heard that you were picked right out of the bat, the most unfortunate luck to be had," she said, lowering her eyes to the floor. "I, as others in the past though we are a seldom few, have not always thought of there to be tremendous congratulations in order. I'm here to help you in any way that I can, if you'd allow that."

I wanted to scowl, part of me starting to think she would be just like all the others - fakery and would talk the talk, but be unable to walk the walk if you were to follow my drift - however her words made me stop. I couldn't help making a self deprecating joke nonetheless, but it wasn't as bitter as I originally had been going for. "I know, my wonderful luck has gotten me everywhere," I said sarcastically, and then with much softer intent. "Thank you, though. I've met five people from the Capitol and they're all senile. You're not crazy. You're normal."

She smiled at me, one filled with pearly whites and bright eyes. "Don't get yourself down; you are going to find out something that will lighten your spirits in training."

I frowned. What good information is anyone told in the Hunger Games besides that they are either the victor or their training score? After things begin to look up for someone, here comes a Career to stab you in the back as if they appeared out of thin air. Shrugging, I gave her a wry smile. "Oh. Well, I suppose we'll have to wait and see."

Rose looked around the room for a chair, as I had been sitting up on the seat I had been lying down in. I was still dressed down in only my underwear, unsure how conscious I was supposed to be in this moment, as I saw my clothes sitting over there in the corner and if I moved, she may have lashed out at me like a viper. I caught her staring at me for a moment. "What?"

"Nothing," she said after a pause. "I am just examining your prep team's work. I've been working with them for several years and sometimes they do an amazing job, or other times they do a half-assed job. If it's a half-assed job, my magic faults."

I laughed nervously, unable to meet her eyes - orbs of passion and intensity, a level I could never match - as she raked them up and down. "A verdict?"

"You're cleaner than many of the gentlemen who often come in here. That is a wonderful thing!" Rose clapped her hands together excitedly, and I visibly relaxed some more by clearing the tension in my shoulders, my shoulders lowing down, and a cracked grin appearing on my face.

"Not by any measure of my own," I joked.

Rose sat on a counter opposite me, and I noticed that she was barefoot, her tanned skin glowing underneath the limelight and sunburst hues from above. "Do you know what will be happening in the next hour?"

"Somewhat. It's going to be the tribute parade. Each pair of tributes is put on a chariot and shown around the Capitol streets so Panem can see who we are for the first time. We're usually dressed in something related to our district. District 12 is the coal mining district," I recited back to her what Henry and Georgia had coached me on what to say and how to say it on the train while we were riding to the Capitol.

She smiled. "Someone taught you well," there was a slight pause. "So, I am currently at a loss of ideas. Do you have any that could help us?"

I sat there in my chair speechless. Was... was she being serious? My prep team hyped Rose Arsenwood to be this fanciful magician who could weave fabric and bend the elements to her will, and here she is asking me, a man with no taste and tactlessness as dry as a saltine cracker for help. Is she mad? I didn't even want to answer that question. I stared back at her, my eyes wide, mouth hanging open. "Um..."

My temporary confusion and blind panic was short-lived as she once more clapped her hands together and laughed with the force of the four winds. "I'm only joking," she teased. "I know exactly what we will be doing for the parade. As you said, you know we have to dress you in something from your district, something coal related."

I nodded back at her. The usual stuff, the usual routine. "So, what is your direction of our outfits?" My brain racked for ideas. Up until the 74th year, when the infamous Katniss Everdeen and Peeta Mellark came around, there usually had been a precedence of simple coal miner outfits with baggy jumpsuits - oh, the horror! - and at times even being stark naked with coal dust on our parts to make us somewhat decent looking.

She flashed me a smile that gave the feeling she knew something that I didn't. "Your district partner, Katie, has a stylist of her own as well. His name is Rev, and we've been throwing ideas back and forth at each other for hours. People have done the mining suits, the nakedness, and with Cinna, fire. We don't want to do what everyone else has down purely because it works. However, being too bold often at times is outrageous and downright silly," Rose lectured, pacing the room. "We came to a conclusion based on an old saying from a Hunger Games person in infamy, Effie Trinket!" she exclaimed.

I rolled my eyes. Effie Trinket - the totting bobble headed woman that she was - in essence had paved the way for Georgia, who simply seemed to be as if she was trying to emulate something already broken. The powdered wigs, the powdered cheeks, the fake smile, the outrageous outfits, the same old drab and garbage I have been seeing for years. I groaned in my head, tilting my head back. I hope to god this would be painless. "And what did you two learn from Effie Trinket?" the sarcasm in my voice was hard to miss, and even I inwardly winced at my disrespect.

Rose raised an eyebrow at me, the tone of her voice as she replied being quite testy. "Effie's old mantra used to be that if you applied enough pressure to coal, it would turn into a diamond, or pearl or other."

There was more than a million things wrong with that statement. I, however, didn't have it in me to give a usual snark routine that I'd throw back at anyone giving stupid and false claims.

My stylist clasped her hands together - I needed to start making a count of it, I'd run out of numbers in my head after the week was be up - having stopped her pacing. "I think it's about time we got you into your tribute parade outfit," Rose grinned evilly at me, the twinkle in her eyes suggesting more, and it was a more I did not want to really find out.

I winced. "I don't like that look."

Rose smirked, jutting her chin out. "I think you're positively going to die when you see it," she crowed. My heart was torn on actually wanting to greet death and at the other half, I thought it'd be the worst thing to ever happen to me.

Twenty minutes later - and I am not joking - I was looking down at my body and wondering why I looked like something that popped out of a children's horror book or the traveling Capitol circus that charged ridiculous fees to see a quite dreadful and abysmal failure of a show. I was dressed in a suit of some kind, the sleeves and front a dark onyx black. A crown of similar color sat atop my head, and we both had capes. As Rose had been describing the outfit to me, I thought it sounded like an entire rehash of Cinna's old ideas. Apparently, the ends of our capes would ignite on fire and burn away, up until the entire cape would vanish into thin air with nothing but smoke following us in a diverted wake. It was to deal with the idea of ashes remaining after a fire burned out, provided by coal, and I wanted to roll my eyes because if that had been the case they were striving before, why couldn't District 12 have an ash based idea instead of something constantly dealing with fire and coal mining. I didn't run things, unfortunately.

Katie still hadn't finished her session with her partner - Rose said his name was Rev - leaving me all by my lonesome self. I tossed a few glances here and there at some of the other gathered tributes, but they were so far away that I was unable to piece together an exact idea of what these other stylists were going for. While I was running my hands over the chariot on which her and I would stand, a gorgeous stainless steel that was cold to the touch, the sound of the District 12 sliding glass door hit my ears, meaning Katie was ready.

I turned around and once more, though I did seem to be full of exaggerations today, my heart like it did with seeing Rose for the first time, nearly stopped. Katie had been dressed in a lighter colored suit than I was, with the same colored cape hitting the floor. A golden crown for a queen rested on the top of her head, with suave and thick midnight eye shadow circling the areas around her eyes. Her emerald eyes popped with electricity, her hair tied in a similar way to how Rose had hers. She walked up to me slightly timid as we hadn't exactly spoken many words to each other since arriving in the Capitol.

"How- how do I look?" she asked me timidly, doing a slight spin.

My eyes must've been wide as saucers, as I don't answer her right away with makes Katie look away nervously. "You look absolutely stunning," I admitted.

She blushed heavily, fiddling away with her cape, matching up to step with me, standing side by side as we had our backs to the chariot. The cold metal pressed into my back. "How's your stylist?"

"Rose is nice," I said. "She got me going for a minute where I thought you and I had to come up with a solution on what we were to be dressed in. She scared me half to death. How's yours?"

"Rev seems mellow," she commented, placing a finger under her chin. "He has this crazy blue hair all done in different styles, where one half is shaved and the other all wild and curvy and stuff. My prep team all were surprisingly normal, if I say so myself."

"Mine were all bumbling idiots, and were weird," I muttered.

"How much hair did they take off of yours?"

"My legs and my chest. You?"

"Everything. Arms, legs, and anywhere else there was stuff to be found! I don't see why we had to be so clean for this one thing," Katie complained. "It's not like the arena is going to see us naked when we die!" She sort of shouted that last bit out, and a many heads turned our way in anger or surprise, a faint blush rising to my district partner's cheeks as this many pairs of eyes staring at us gave us... problems.

"Were you naked?" Katie questioned.

I shook my head in dissent. "I had no shirt and pants, but I did have underwear. Obviously I was naked for my bath, but nothing more than that. Why?"

Katie shivered. "Even after my bath, I had to sit there entirely naked while they worked away at my body. I had to use my hands to cover my chest! My hands, Jon! I only got a towel after Rev looked at me, but it didn't matter that the one guy on my prep team got to see me in my completely human form..."

I eyed Katie quizzically. "You were naked the entire time up until Rev came in to check on you?"

She nodded furiously. "It was horrible. I've never been so ashamed of myself in my life?"

That caused me to raise an eyebrow. "Why? I think you have a rather nice body," I blurted out before my own mind could stop itself. Once the words left, there was no going back and treading over water to fix it again. I put my face in my hands, blushing profusely. I'm quite unsure whether or not that was my head up top or my head below doing the thinking for me, because her and I, with our vague knowing of each other, did not exist on that level!

When I looked back up, Katie was blushing too, giggling behind a hand. "I don't think anyone's ever complimented me like that, before."

"You're welcome," I snorted. "Don't mention it."

Katie looked away for a second, sniffing the air. "I still can't believe you weren't naked," She inhaled a deep breath. "Even the air here seems fake. Is there anything in the Capitol that is real?"

"The bloodlust they have for watching us die," I said dead faced.

Somewhere down the line, as we were all the way in the back of the tunnel for being from District 12, a person that Katie nor I could see shouted something out. A loud gong reverberated throughout the vicinity, and the other tributes who had either been lapsed into silence or talking like we were a few seconds ago began to move onto their chariots. Extending my hand to Katie, she reached out and took it, helping her into the chariot. I followed suit with her, taking the right side and she the left if you were facing the tribute at a frontwards angle. The same person who had shouted the command for us to get into our places yelled out another command, and then the cracking sound of a whip followed. All the horses in the line jolted, as if they were lulled out of a deep sleep like robotic engines, the chariot rocking a little. I steadied myself from almost tipping out.

A countdown began to initiate - my blood chilled at the voice, as it was the same voice used for the Cornucopia bloodbath countdown - "Five. Four. Three. Two. One. Get ready, tributes!"

Katie and I looked forward immediately. Henry's words started flowing back to me. "You want to show everyone that you're not fazed about them. They do not matter now and they will not matter ever. This is your arena you and Katie are getting out of and surviving, even if it means it is to come down to the two of you. Have faith in yourself and have faith in your stylists to be the most amazing form of yourselves that you can be."

She must've gotten the memo in her head to, Katie locking eyes with me, her gaze steely, facial expression focused. I nodded, and she nodded back. Facing the front, we kept our heads held high, chin up, unfazed by the others. I closed my eyes as the chariots began to move, quietly whispering to myself a countdown of seconds before we'd be hit by light. At the last second, I looked up at the screens that had showed the countdown on them.

In the place of the numbers was a figure sitting in a booth that had velvet curtains lining the back, and my mind searched through the whirlwind of names. Louis Grande. In place of Caesar Flickerman, who did the Hunger Games interviews and other television inspired jobs as his role in being the Master of Ceremonies, Louis took up the vacated spot as his prodigy when Caesar died of old age around the 84th or 85th year of the games. Apparently Caesar looked a lot older than what we saw on television, akin to what the Capitol citizens called a celebrity looked ripe and young when in actuality they were a dried out corn husk.

Louis had dark, stunning curly long locks of hair that stopped about mid neck. On screen, he was dressed in a bright, almost blinding cherry red suit that if he turned a way or another would have bits of his suit shine like flares off of the sun. I could hear his voice over the screaming throngs of the gathered crowds.

"District 1 looks radiant tonight, ladies and gentlemen of Panem! And look at District 2! I wouldn't want to be hit by those chisels that they're holding!" Louis commented from his veranda high above the causeway.

District 1 was dressed and spray painted purple, decorated in gems. I couldn't quite tell if they were just representing another precious gemstone that the District mined, but it definitely worked in their favor as curves and facial features were popping out. District 2 had their tributes literally quite dressed in large cinder blocks, bits of metal sticking out of various parts of the suit. In their hands, the pair had chisels grasped in their fingers that they'd occasionally swing back and forth. District 6 - I nearly bowled over in laughter at the absolute hilariousness presented in front of me - were a pair of planes, with fire coming out of the engines. Getting a glimpse of their faces, as they were the brother and sister twin dynamic, looked absolutely furious, not waving nor smiling; steam practically rolled off of their twirling hats at the anger they were emanating. The crowd cheered for everyone, primarily District 1 and District 9, who were glowing trees in the moonlight that were half spring and half fall, but it was nothing compared to when we came bustling out of the terminal. I looked behind me and I was stunned at the suddenness of the roar of applause. Our flickering fire of our capes illuminated the night and our crowns seemed to glow with them, and looking down, the amber glow of the flames licked away and snagged the tangible air. It began to burn, and I was expecting the harsh smell of smoke, but rather a sweetness, like cake frosting. Unusual.

The capes burned away and fell like ash, bits of gray and cloud floating around the airspace. The air would blow the wind flurries up in the air, only for the specks of ash and dust and soot to be swept under the trample of other horse hooves, including ours, so we had a wake of ash following us. I suppose my doubt of Rose and Rev's creative genius was to be having me eat crow. I heard Louis Grande's voice in the background, calling us a myriad of words, but making sure to still be professional, he threw in other comments for the other districts, but the damage was done. District 12, often forgotten and often pulling at straws for naught, actually made an impression. I smiled widely after a few minutes of our chariot parading down the street; I liked this and I honestly didn't want this to end.

Katie and I locked eyes once more, and there was a genuine happiness flickering back and forth under the guise of fire burning away at our capes and our chariot.

We came to a stop a few minutes later, the procession of grandeur and Louis's voice dying out and fading away into the background. The twelve chariots were stopped, our direction supposed to be perched upwards. My blood ran cold when I realized what we were supposed to be staring out at. The presidential balcony. A hush fell over the crowd, and then out stepped the president, Panem's lord and savior. After the second rebellion had been quashed, the original madman president, Coriolanus Snow had gone into a state of comatose, having to be stepped aside and put into hospitalized care. He died on the eve of the 80th Hunger Games, officially marking an end to one tyrant's reign and ushering in another.

Our new president, for the past nineteen years, was President Snow's son, Lee. Though I wasn't born yet when Coriolanus had his main time in the spotlight, there came to be a familiar face in the nightmares of my generation of Panem. There were all these grand Greek and Roman names, and we were settled with a man named Lee. Everyone said he inherited his vileness from his father, and the despicableness rose to even greater heights when districts started having repeating patterns. He seemed to be in his mid-forties, with thinning, short brown hair and a hawk-like glare that rocketed me to the core.

Lee stepped out onto the balcony presented for him, lowering his hands down to quiet the roaring crowds." Welcome tributes, welcome!" he greeted, to the booming cheer of the audience. "We salute your courage and your sacrifice! Thank you for so courageously taking the leap here to be in the Capitol for the 99th year of the Hunger Games! May the odds be ever in your favor, tributes! Happy Hunger Games!" Lee boomed out to the crowd, rising with his hands a thunderous tremor of applause afterwards.

I only got to hear a thirty second speech from the man, and even now recalling all of this, my arms were covered in chills. Something about the man rubbed me the wrong way, in a way I couldn't quite understand, but it wasn't my place to put an answer onto everything. Katie looked back at me, worry flashing in her green eyes, and I wanted to open my mouth and utter out a compliment or reassurance, but the syllables wouldn't come out.

The chariot pulled forward suddenly, and we almost tumbled out once more as we had back when we started. Another tremendous roar of applause followed, and then darkness. The chariots all pulled into a pavilion of sorts with flickering halcyon lights glimmering above. Our chariot came to a stop, and I took no time in getting off of it. I helped Katie to her feet.

"Good job," she said breathlessly.

"You too."

When I turned around, I had a moment to recollect our wits as Georgia and Rose with a third stranger that I didn't recognize pushed through the crowd. Georgia and Rose reached us first, our escort's face practically beaming with exultations and praises that I knew she could hardly contain. She threw her arms around us. As she did, I gave a look at the stranger, noticing the odd cerulean shade and arrangement of his hair, one side shaved, the other zany and curled like a tornado. It clicked in my head that this must've been Rev, Katie's lead stylist who gave her a gold crown. He seemed to hang back and not say anything, something I found quite strange.

"Outstanding! Simply marvelous!" Georgia crowed.

I laughed admittedly. "It wasn't all us. We just had to stand there and look pretty," I threw a hand to the stylists fringing on the outskirts of our merry trio. "Thank Rose and Rev, the real geniuses."

Rose matched her step with Georgia, smiling ever more than our bumbling escort was. "How was it being up there and having everyone cheer you on?"

"Exhilarating," Katie breathed excitedly, still catching up with her emotions. "I've never felt so special or wanted or loved in my entire life!"

Georgia beamed. "If you keep it up, there'll be plenty more where that came from."

Out of the corner of my eye, I saw Henry make his way to us. It had been a few hours since I last saw the twenty year-old, but in that short span of our absence from him, he seemed to have wised up, the furrowed crease lines of his face mellowing out, his generally anger glare simmering to where he now, more than anything look annoyed. "I already have sponsors lined up around the block. Apparently you two did something right."

"Thanks," Katie blushed.

"Congratulations for you not dying up there."

"Careful," I smirked. "I can still ignite this cape and catch you on fire."

Henry tossed another one my way. "You injure me, I took you two down as well." A twinkle was in his eye, as I know he wasn't exactly being serious. I wanted to continue playing!

"Are you sure you should be near Katie and I? Last time you insulted us, Katie threatened to slit your throat."

He pursed his lips, probably going to say something snarky that'd make us all laugh. "Are you sure you should..." Henry cut his words off short, his gaze focusing on someone behind us. Katie and I both turned to look past his gaze.

Down a little ways away were the two District 6 tributes. The girl, trying to contain her anger a little bit better than her brother, sniffed the air disdainfully, head turned upwards at the ceiling. The guy, on the other hand, seemed to have lost all decorum in every bone in his body. He ripped off the hat and stomped it into the ground, ripping his costume in two, bits of Styrofoam blocks tumbling to the floor. Many of the other gathered tribute pairs with their victors, escorts and stylists looked their way, District 6's own adults blushing a furious and brilliant red.

The male from six whirled around and caught eyes on us, Katie and me. The two of us locked eyes with him, and then he started forward, advancing across the pavilion floor. Henry threw both of us behind him, and the boy stopped in his tracks.

Georgia twirled us around, nipping at the edges of our costumes. "Let's go upstairs and see your room. No need to linger down here."

We all muttered voices of mutual agreement, briskly walking away with a hurry in our step. As we round the corner, both of the tributes from District 6 are eyeing Katie and I, the girl to her, and the guy to me. Before my vision is blocked by the wall, he and I lock eyes, one glance, and in that one moment I can see my death by his hands purely because we upstaged them. The boy from 6 is outright glaring at me, his face scrunched up and his eyes burning a black, blazing retribution.

I know deep down, in my heart that he can't wait to kill me.

A long, long chapter! Wowzers! But what do you think of the characters presented? Rose, the effervescent stylist! Katie is starting to speak more, and purely on the treatment she is receiving. What tribute outfit was your favorite? And do you think this District 6 pair is going to be a threat? Thank you for reading!

~ Paradigm