Hi guys! Sorry for taking so long to update, it's just that had a HUGE writer's block, and that's sad, considering I just have to follow the order of events in the book.
But I'm back, and I'd love a few reviews! And if you like Maximum Ride fics, check out mine!
Read and review!
It's been hours. The pain is beginning to overrun my brain. My strategy of concentrating on something, anything else has failed me. All I can think about is the pain yanking away at my skin.
"Almost done, sweetheart," Mariana chirps, using her tweezers to pluck a hair from my eyebrow. She drops the forgotten hair onto a tray, where the others all lay. I have not even the slightest idea why they're not throwing them away, but it's beginning to scare me. I don't know what they plan here; all I know is that I'm going to be forced to kill people soon.
"Great," I reply, trying to keep the sarcasm out of my tone. I'll only have to deal with these people for a little while, and that fact is what is getting me through this.
They continue to pull at my skin, making me grit my teeth and bite my tongue. Can somebody remind me why this even matters?
"You'll love your stylist, you know. Quartz will just love to meet you," Morpheo comments as he pulls out a jar of sweet smelling cream. He slathers it onto my sore skin, giving instant relief. I almost sigh with happiness before I feel another hair being tugged from my leg.
My stylist is named after a rock? Great, just wonderful. I can't contain my excitement.
"All finished!" Cas exclaims after a full moment of being enveloped in different lotions and creams. I smell like a rosebush and probably look as red as one of its flowers. "I'll go get Quartz and tell her that you're all ready!" she giddily claps her hands and runs off.
"Yay," I whisper to myself, sarcasm finally seeping into my words. Mariana hears me and gives a look of sympathy. Confusion settles onto me like a blanket. Why would she even care?
I forget about the small situation when the woman I assume is Quartz waltzes in. She looks as if she was drenched in white paint then had small, glittering rocks thrown at her to stick to the drying paint. She wears a poufy ball gown with small rocks that I assume is quartz lining the sides of her dress. Her hair is in an afro of sorts, white like the rest of her ridiculous appearance. Every now and then my eyes pick up a rock in her hair. Even her skin is pale as snow.
"Clove, darling!" she exclaims, throwing her arms out as if she wanted to hug me. "I've been dying to meet you!" I wince at the word dying. "I'm going to make you beautiful for the parade tonight!"
I nod warily, already preparing for the event. It's a big deal; a huge deal. I should be preparing like Maple told me to. Reminders fly in and out of my brain; it starts now. Not in the arena, not on the way there. It starts right now.
With those thoughts in mind, I plaster the fakest, most excited grin I can on my face and say, "I can't wait! This is such an honor!"
Quartz beams at me. "Isn't it?" she walks towards me, and I will myself to control my face; to keep it ecstatic.
My answering nod is enough for her. It's a good thing; my voice might have let them know my true feelings.
Those tweezers are really making me cranky.
"So, darling," my stylist begins, standing only an arm's length away from me now. "I was thinking we could show one of the many purposes of our wonderful district. For example, the Peacekeepers. District Two is known for producing and training the most, so maybe we could show how heroic you are with a type of gladiator suit."
She rambles on, but I tune it out. All I think about is Maple's advice. It starts now, stay strong, don't show any weaknesses. I have to take this without complaint, and take what is thrown at me.
"Let's get you ready!" Quartz's voice recaptures my attention, making me smile to let her know I understand. "You and Cato are going to look absolutely perfect; you'll be the best looking tributes out there."
Still naked, I'm lead to another room, this one lined with racks and racks of clothes and accessories. Mostly gold, they glint and gleam in the artificial lights. I take a moment to look before Quartz invites me to sit on the velvet couch beside her.
"You must be starving," she says, her blinding smile never leaving her face.
I was, actually. I hadn't eaten since the train, and that had been hours and hours ago. It seemed like countless hours were spent in that chair beneath the tweezers. "Yes, some food would be nice."
With the push of a few buttons, two plates with chicken and rice appear in front of me. Picking up the fork, I hungrily dig in, enjoying the delectable treat in front of me. Food like this wasn't usually served in Two, but I had tasted it before. Unlike the higher numbered districts, we got many tastes of the Capitol.
"So, I think now is a good time to show you your outfit for the parade," Quartz says conversationally after we finish our dishes.
She walks to a rack that had been pushed aside from the others. It held only one outfit, probably the one she had selected for me to wear. She pulls it from its place and holds it in front of me, an expectant look on her face.
Knowing the reaction she wanted, I stood and pressed both of my hands to my mouth, faking excitement. "I love it!"
The outfit in front of me was skimpy, and that was being generous. There were two pieces, both made of gold. The top was two chest plates, barely big enough to cover my breasts. They were hooked around the back with what looked to be a string. It honestly looked like a bathing suit. The bottoms were no better; they were just a netted, golden skirt that looked like they'd go maybe halfway down my thighs.
"Then try it on!"
I stand and slip on what little there is to put on. It takes a second, and soon I'm standing in front of the woman, feeling about as covered as I did when I was naked.
She gasps. "It's perfect!" she smiles with self-respect. "I am a genius! When people get a load of you, they'll be dying to sponsor you!"
I nod, trying to match her enthusiasm. All I can think about is being this bare in front of everybody in Panem. Will my mother see me like this? What will my friends think?
Then I remember. I will almost definitely never see them again. It doesn't matter what they think of me. I am going to die.
The thought is not as depressing as it should be. If I die, Cato lives. It's as simple as that. At least he wants to win; he'll have everything he wants. He'll forget about me, and maybe he'll reach happiness. That thought is what makes me smile as Quartz sits me down and begins on my makeup.
Through the course of a few more hours, I've been dusted head to toe in gold dust, and my eyes and lips have been done with a heavier tint of the color. Everything about me suggests riches, power, when I feel anything but those emotions.
On my feet are strappy, leather, golden sandals. They complete the outfit. Quartz's words, not mine.
Cas, Morpheo, and Mariana are welcomed into the room. They immediately fawn and gush about my appearance, making each other even more excited in the process. I don't listen until I pick up on their plans to let me see Cato. Finally, a sane person.
We leave the room, traveling in a flock. They crowd around me, constantly praising my outfit and new look.
As soon as I catch sight of Cato down the hall, I break into a run. He picks me up when I reach him and swings me around before breaking down into a fit of chuckles.
"Damn, Clove, I didn't know you needed to strip down to impress me," he says, falling over himself in an effort to choke out his retort through laughter.
My fist hits his arm before he can react, and suddenly his laughter stops. "Hey!"
This time it is my turn to laugh. Cato pouts while I choke through laughter, "Right, because your outfit is so modest!"
Cato was clothed in a simple gladiator type bottom. He was topless, revealing his perfect physique. Obviously our stylists planned this out, and their plan was revealing.
He grumbles something under his breath before diving in to peck my lips. Quartz and Cato's stylist widen their eyes at our affection, but say nothing.
Then the horrible, high pitched, nasally voice rings through the air. "You look simply marvelous!" Karma exclaims as she strides to us. Her wig bobs up and down as she walks, and I imagine it falling off and almost burst into laughter.
Maple and Titan follow behind her, and Titan whispers something in Maple's ear causing her to snort. They push and shove each other every few seconds, and I smile. They're so different; it's as if Titan was a lion and Maple was a mouse.
When they reach us Karma announces, "We only have an hour before the parade, and I'm sure you will all steal the show!" she gestures at our exposed bodies. "You look gorgeous!"
The urge to punch her grows when I see her eyes lingering on Cato. She must be in her thirties at least, and here she is staring at a sixteen year old! Doesn't she find that even the slightest bit wrong or disturbed?
"We need this last hour to get to the beginning of the parade and to prepare you for it," Maple says, slightly tense. I imagine she's probably remembering her parade, and I wonder if it's a good or bad memory. From the way her nails leave little crescents in her palms, I'm guessing bad. "So let's get going."
We climb into a car, and I can't help but run my hands over the smooth surfaces. Everything is perfect here, besides the people. They still stun me whenever I encounter a new one.
The journey is silent, and coursing with nervous energy. I tap my fingers against my leg in a rhythm, while Cato cracks his knuckles every few minutes. Maple runs her hands through her hair. Titan is the only one sitting still. He keeps his gaze centered and doesn't speak. It should scare me, but instead the way he is unwavering comforts me. If he isn't nervous, then maybe I shouldn't be either. Well, then again he is sure he won't die in the next few weeks.
Karma's voice rings through the air, announcing that we had arrived. The building is simple in Capitol terms, a simple, gray rectangle. Earlier I saw a structure with so many different angles and sides I wondered how it didn't collapse.
"Let's get you to your horses," Maple suggests, hurrying me away from the group. Her urgency scared me a bit, and I wondered how bad her experience was if it was making her this apprehensive. When I saw it on TV it looked fine, and there were no problems. Unlike four years ago, when a horse trampled an onlooker who climbed over the fences.
I stand alone in a corner, waiting for Maple to finish speaking to the mentors from District One. For somebody who seemed so antsy a moment ago, she sure seems to be taking her time now.
"Alright, I've already established one alliance," she says easily when she walks up to me. "And that's very good, considering we haven't even begun training yet."
I try to smile, I really do. But an alliance just means more people to look out for. I need to make sure none of them will back stab me and none of them are incompetent wimps who back down from a fight. Considering I'm a Career, it's unlikely, but it has happened before.
I'm ushered further to stable wall, Maple uncomfortably close to me. "You have to seem strong out there," she says, "You're a Career. You have no weakness. You are too good for everybody. Stare straight ahead and don't waver. Be strong, Clove."
I nod, trying to remember the words exactly. Maybe if I concentrate on the words by themselves and not the whole message I won't have to think about being put on national TV in a skimpy little bathing suit of a costume.
Oh, there are the nerves.
"Tributes to your horses!"
Somewhere in the midst of the chaos, Cato grabs my hand. "Are you ready?"
I take a deep breath and climb onto the chariot. "Ready as I'll ever be."