I doubt I will ever fail to be overwhelmed by the Capitol. Everything here is so terribly unnatural, from the people with their ridiculous clothes, hair and make up, to the lights that never seem to diminish. No electricity blackouts ever affect the people here.
A crowd has gathered to cheer in our arrival. As we step from the train the noise from the crowd swells, getting louder every time we wave, becoming deafening when I pull Katniss towards me to kiss her.
We cannot stay long for the crowds, not in our current state. We look far too 'normal' for the Capitol. Effie quickly ushers us towards a waiting hovercar that will take us to our living quarters where our prep teams are waiting for us. We have to be made beautiful as we will be on camera tonight when the Quell is announced.
With a swift kiss, Katniss and I are parted and we are led away to separate areas. I remember the first time I met my prep team, feeling so incredibly self conscious as I stood naked in front of them, as they sized me up not like a human being but like a piece of meat. I wondered at the time if these adults looked at the younger children the same way and my first feelings towards them were of utter disgust.
As soon as they opened their mouths I realised they were more like children themselves; products of this ridiculous regime just like all of us tributes.
I no longer feel embarrassed in front of them as they ask me to strip. They move around me in a slow circle examining every part of me, until eventually Auricula exclaims that thankfully they don't have too much work ahead of them; a simple body polish to get my skin gleaming again, although Atlas is almost in tears as he believes my close proximity to the hot ovens back home is drying my hair out too much. He takes one of my hands in both of his and makes me promise not to let myself "go to ruin." The sight of him is so comical that I laugh and acquiesce. Otillie examines my face and says I will need another epilation treatment. I hate these treatments; a thick chemical paste spread over my jaw and upper lip to prevent hair growth. It burns terribly and with each treatment I begin to wonder if the regrowth will ever return.
Whilst the chemicals work on my face, Auricula gets to work by covering me head to toe in a thick polishing balm, scrubbing until my skin feels raw, while Atlas massages a pungent smelling lotion into my scalp, all the while decrying the clear lack of access we have to decent hair care products in District 12. I keep quiet, as I am sure none of them would believe me if I were to tell them that was the least of our worries back home.
Once I am washed, polished and dried I am dressed in a simple robe to await Portia. She enters in next to no time at all and greets me with a swift hug. "How will we be dressed tonight?" I ask her. She smiles at the use of "we." Ever since our first appearance on Capitol television we have been presented as a team.
"You're both going to look ravishing, sweetie," she responds with a wink. She finishes styling my hair personally, and helps me in to a dark suit that seems to glow deep auburn when it catches the light in a certain way. She kisses my cheek and leads me to the waiting area by the soundstage area where we will be filmed for our reactionary interviews to the announcement of the Quell. I have no idea how to play this one. I can play the love angle they want from me and Katniss, being as that comes naturally anyway, but how are we supposed to act when they announce this new form of torture being prepared for ordinary citizens? A wave of nervous dread settles in my stomach. Before we were sent in to the first arena I promised myself that I wouldn't allow the games to change who I was, and I am determined that they still wont.
One by one other Victors from previous years appear. Some I recognise, Finnick Odair for example must have one of the best known faces in all of Panem, but many are completely unknown to me. I wonder how, if at all, the Capitol has changed any of these people? Who were they before their reapings? Are they still that person in private? How do they cope with seeing so much death year in, year out?
And then she arrives. My breath catches in my chest at the sight of her; her hair has been transformed in to loose curls that tumble and cascade down her shoulders. Hi-lights have been woven in that glow the same auburn as my suit in certain lights. Her long black dress has flame accents at the bottom that give her the appearance of walking through a fire. I drink in every single aspect of her beauty, not wanting to miss a single thing. I hurry across to meet her, pick her up and spin her round in my arms. "You look... I'm lost for words..."
"You? Lost for words? There's a first time for everything I guess!" she says jokingly, reaching up to my face and planting a gentle kiss on my lips for the benefit of the Capitol attendants near us. It may have been solely for the benefit of appearances, but I still take it, and return it deeper than before.
Some Capitol lackeys hurry us back to our seats by the stage area, as they are ready to film the announcement. I take Katniss's hand and together we take our place, side by side. Haymitch is ushered in to a seat next to Katniss, clearly reluctant to be here. The lights go up on the stage and the Panem anthem plays. Katniss increases her grip on my hand and I feel her palms, shaking and sweating, grow cold. I follow the line of her sight and see what she sees. President Snow walking towards a podium in the centre of the stage, a white envelope in his hands. He pauses before taking his place, looking directly at Katniss who grips my hand so tightly it is almost painful. I shift my chair closer to hers so she can rest her head on my shoulder if need be.
Without any further introduction or ceremony, Snow opens the envelope. He clears his throat then reads in a voice devoid of all emotion, "On the seventy-fifth anniversary as a reminder to the people of Panem that the Capitol's control extends over all, two tributes will be reaped from the children of the district and a further two from the adults." A cheer goes up from the audience who cannot wait to witness such mayhem and carnage. Without a further backwards glance Snow is gone from the stage and replaced by Caesar Flickerman who brings the Capitol audience back under control.
Oblivious to what is going on stage and thankful the cameras aren't on us just yet, my head falls into my hands. Two children and two adults all from the same Districts. They could conceivably be sending an entire family to their doom. Mother against son, father against daughter. I think of my own family - my older brothers, my father, my mother... All of them should have been safe from the Games, but not now. I turn to Katniss and I see her thoughts echo mine. She is clearly picturing Prim being thrown in to the games again, this time with her mother by her side, knowing that she will have to watch at least one, if not both, die.
Flickerman is interviewing the previous winners by District instead of as individuals, and I whisper a silent prayer of thanks that we wont have to appear alone.
Haymitch leans in to us both. "You two need to be on your best behaviour out there. I doubt Snow has forgiven you both for being alive, and he'll be looking for a way to punish you. Don't give him the opportunity." He turns his attention to Katniss. "If you can't say something nice, don't speak, you got that, sweetheart?"
She nods abruptly. We both know exactly what is at stake here.
Time moves by with increasing rapidity and before we know it Flickerman announces our entrance. "Ladies and Gentlemen, please give a warm, warm welcome to the victors of District 12!"
It is in a complete daze that I find myself up on the stage, Katniss seated in between me and Haymitch. She kicks off her shoes and tucks herself in to my side. The audience lap it up, while Haymitch rolls his eyes in our direction, gaining quite a few laughs at the same time.
"Well," says Caesar in his genial voice, "I think all eyes are most certainly on District 12 at the moment! You've given us our favourite celebrity couple," he indicates Katniss and myself, "and you Haymitch, winner of the previous Quarter Quell, mentoring them in one of our most entertaining games in many a year, and now back to preside over this year's Quell! What an achievement, all of you!" The noise of the crowd swells again. "Tell me, what do you think of this year's Quell?"
I swallow down the bile that rises in my throat. I want to scream the truth, the appalling truth to all these people, but I think of my family back home. I have to do this for them. But it is Haymitch who speaks first. "Do you remember asking me that question 25 years ago, Caesar? Same answer still stands." The crowd roars with appreciative laughter, and Caesar wipes a pretend tear of laughter away from his eyes. "Who would like to see a replay of that?" he asks the audience, who all cheer back their agreement.
We see on the monitors by the edge of the stage what will currently be being broadcast to Panem. A recap of the interviews from 25 years ago. A young Haymitch, not gone to seed through drink, tall, strong and arrogant sits lazily back in his chair as he's being interviewed. Caesar asks him what he thinks of the games having double the competitors it usually does. "I don't see that it makes much difference," he replies, his eyes full of dangerous anger. "They'll still be one hundred percent as stupid as usual, so I figure my odds will be roughly the same." The audience from 25 years ago burst into hysterical applause, and the audience here match them clap for clap.
"Our two star-crossed lovers have been terribly quiet," says Flickerman, and I feel Katniss tense next to me. "Who would like to hear from them?" More whoops and cheers from the studio audience. "Peeta," he says turning to me, and my mind has gone blank, "Why don't you give us your thoughts?"
"Well, Caesar," I begin slowly, stalling for as much time as I can, "It's like Haymitch said. If you have the want to survive, or the need to protect someone else from death, you'll find a way, no matter how many people stand before you." Katniss looks up into my eyes and I don't trust either of us to say anything else, so I kiss her desperately, passionately, and am only vaguely aware of the sound of "ahhhhhh..." coming from the audience in front of us. She reacts, returning the kiss, and I once again wish with all my heart that she could be this way towards me privately and not just publicly.
"I hate to break this apart," says Caesar with a smile, "but we are longing to hear from you Katniss, Girl on Fire! What do you think about these games?"
For a second I see the truth played out across Katniss's face. She wants to say exactly what she thinks. A dark cloud gathers behind her eyes and the storm threatens to break, but she blinks and it is gone, replaced by a silly, giggling girl in love. "As long as it doesn't threaten our wedding plans, I don't care!" The biggest cheer of all night goes to her. Hopefully we will have pulled this off.
Our time is soon up, and Flickerman invites the three of us to take a bow. I want to whisk the girl next to me away and talk to her privately so we can communicate out loud the true horror. We leave the stage and begin to walk towards our rooms, where we can finally talk freely.
Down an adjacent corridor I spy a strange sight. Finnick Odair leaning against a wall looking thoroughly miserable. A little way to the side of him I see the District Four escort arguing with two different Capitol women. Snippets of the heated conversation float back to me. Something about an exchange of money, something about a broken promise, something about goods paid for and not received. Nothing to do with us at any rate.
Back in Katniss's room, away from the prying eyes and the all seeing cameras we collapse in each other's arms, neither of us fully able to articulate how scared we feel for our loved ones. "What if..." she weeps, her face buried in my shoulder, "Mum... or Prim... Or Gale... or... all of them...?" I tense at the mention of Gale. She has deep feelings for him, it is apparent, and he clearly feels the same way about her. Is there more to it than friendship? I don't know, but they have known each other years, and have all the experiences that years of friendship afford. What do I have in comparison? A lifetime of longing and a faked on screen relationship. I push the dark thoughts away. There are more pressing issues at hand, and Katniss will need support through this more than ever. I let her cry in to my shoulder when there is a sudden loud knocking at the door.
"Peeta! Peeta, are you in there?!" Effie Trinket has come looking for me and sounds deeply harassed. I break apart from Katniss as she quickly dries her eyes and turns away from the door so that her tears may be hidden. I open the door and Effie is stood in front of me, her wig slightly askew. Behind her I see one of the women I had seen arguing with the District Four escort. She has a bizarre, almost animalistic look; clearly undergone far too many body modifications. Her golden brown hair has been pulled into short spikes that pull away from her face, her eyes are yellow with a vertical pupil, and her finger nails are sharp golden talons. She looks positively hawklike. Next to her stands an armed peacekeeper. Effie looks unsure of what to say next. "Peeta, would you mind coming with us?"
A/N - Thanks for reading folks, please don't forget to leave a review :)