Disclaimer: I do not own Hunger Games and anything from the novels is attributed to its author.

Sorry that it has been a while since I updated. Exams and school got in the way of writing with a minor case of writer's block. Now I will try to get back to the regular updates. Enjoy!

Chapter 16

The Makeover

If I ever get my hands on Katniss, I am going to make her wish she was dead. I can understand her being forced away from us due to mentor duties but I did not expect my older sister to ditch us. Haymitch is a perfect example of someone almost guaranteed to desert you. He is an expert at disappearing by making himself scarce, which he does the minute we dock. Katniss on the other hand pretends to follow us inside before hightailing it out of there. One minute my sister is speaking to a whiskered man and the next she is walking briskly away from us as fast as she can. Traitor.

Before ditching us and after docking at the train station, Katniss escorts us from the train to a long white platform that overlooks a tall ivory building. People walk casually up and down the walkway connecting the two in brightly colored outfits, speaking quietly amongst themselves. I find the sight discomforting, almost as if the people were walking pictures we are to admire but not interact with. What kind of life did the people of the capitol live?

Peeta grasps my hand in his own, alarming me out of my thoughts. I glance up to take in his comforting smile as he squeezes my hand reassuringly. How does Peeta know that I need reassurance? I am beginning to wonder if he has some kind of mind reading power that I don't know about. The likelihood of this actually being true is slim. Not knowing what else to do, I return his smile cautiously as I release his hand.

Distance between us is necessary. If we are to grow close, it will become harder and harder for me to hurt him in the end. I need him to be able to hate me, to be able to take my life. There is only one victor in the Hunger Games. Neither of us can afford for that to be me. I am determined to do everything in my power to make sure Peeta is the last one standing in that arena.

Quickening my pace to match Katniss's, I keep step with my sister as we silently cross the walkway. I try not to notice the walking pictures pointing and whispering about us as we pass. Do these idiots have anything better to do then talk about us? I suppress my urge to glare at them and keep my eyes trained on my heeled boots as we continue forward. I almost forgot about the provocative outfit the peacock forced me into. Maybe this is the reason for their annoying chatter.

"They must be whispering about the two lovely ladies I am with." Peeta exclaims quietly, his arms coming to casually rest over our shoulders as he leans forward. That lopsided grin that makes my heart flip and flop around in my chest is back. He could kill someone with that if he isn't careful. I am completely sure that that someone is me. Do I ever get a break?

Deciding on a more childish reaction, I stick my tongue out at him while Katniss stiffens next to me. My older sister isn't one for physical affection or touching in any manner. I watch her turn to glare at Peeta, almost daring him to allow his arm to remain on her shoulder. I try not to laugh as Peeta's grin slips away making him look like a hurt puppy whose favorite bone is being taken away. Who knows what is running through that boy's head as his arm drops from Katniss's shoulders. Much to my annoyance, his arm around my shoulders remains.

I roll my shoulder and try to squirm out from under him as his grip on me tightens. I am beginning to believe that Peeta's life goal is to send me to an early grave. All the flips, flops, and frantic beating he puts my heart through will surely kill me. That is if I don't get myself killed first. If I could pick the person in the capitol most likely to want me dead, Haymitch and Snow would be at the top of my list. My talent for pissing people off has these two out for my blood. Maybe Peeta won't have to end up killing me in the games after all.

"Peeta, get off." I mutter, shooting him an annoyed glare as we reach the ivory building. I subtly try to move away from Peeta, hoping he won't notice my actions.

Luck never being on my side, he notices right away. Arching a brow in my direction, he lets his arm over my shoulders drop. However, he grabs my hand immediately and pulls me close against him. Blood floods my cheeks as I stare unbelievingly at him. What the heck is going through that head of his?

Katniss suppresses a giggle as she watches us with an amused smile. Shit, just what I need at this moment, more ammo for Kit-Kat to use against me for my supposed crush on Peeta.

I am very close to losing it right now after all that has happened in the last two days. After volunteering for Prim, Gale kissing me, Effie torturing me, and my feelings for Peeta going haywire, I've had enough. How much more can a girl take? I suddenly feel tired, more exhausted then I have ever felt in my entire life. Is this what it feels like to be emotionally and physically drained?

Peeta seems to notice the change in me as he releases his hold on me. His hand still grips mine firmly, dragging me forward as we walk inside. "You ok, Nightlock?" He whispers, concern laced in his voice. Am I that transparent?

Biting my bottom lip, I contemplate how to answer that question. If I really thought about it, I am far from ok at the moment. I want nothing more than to run away from all of them and forget any of this ever happened. However, this is not an option. I volunteered to be here, willingly. I am obligated to see it through unless I want to see my little sister killed for my disobedience. I swore to get Peeta out of the games alive and I never break my promises. I am definitely not ok.

Knowing anything I say will be I lie, I decide to go with the truth. "No, Peeta." I reply, pausing a second to lick my lips. "I will be though." My words sound unsure even to my ears. There is no way he is going to believe me. A hard reassuring squeeze from Peeta is my answer. Nope. He does not believe a word I said.

"Nigh-"

His words are cut off as a blue haired whiskered man with sparkles around his eyes walks up to us. Katniss nods to him and walks forward to greet him. I watch the two shake hands before beginning a whispered heated debate with hand gestures. The whiskered man points to me twice, frowning the first time and smiling triumphantly the second time. His presence reminds me of a certain capitol peacock and how she always seems to get her way.

Speaking of said peacock, a shrill laugh rings through our ears as I spot her approaching Katniss and whisker man. She seems right at home in this place as she greets the whisker man like old friends. I shiver unconsciously at the thought of any man knowing Effie Trinket so intimately. Nausea grips me as I try not to let my imagination run wild with that concept. Too late. Disgusting images involving Effie and whisker man assault me as I try not to lose my breakfast in front of Peeta. This day definitely sucks.

Effie notices us watching them and ushers us over a wave of her hand. Peeta and I glance at each other, wondering what horrors the three people have in store for us. Neither of us have any illusions that whatever they are discussing involves anything pleasant. Nothing but fashion, torture, and the prospect of attention makes Effie look that happy. Peeta shrugs his shoulders, giving me the impression he is ready for anything as I smile grimly in return.

We casually walk over to where the three of them are waiting, trying our best not to appear nervous in front of them. First lesson when dealing with a predator, do not show fear. They can smell it and will use it against you if they can. Peeta squeezes my hand, reminding me that he has been holding it this entire time. I quickly pull my hand away, not wanting to be distracted by him when we confront our tormentors.

I give Katniss an annoyed stare as we reach them, hoping she can give me some insight on what to expect. A knowing smile is my reply, her grey eyes sparkling with mirth as she watches me squirm. Well my sister is no help. Why do I have the sinking feeling that I just dug my own grave? Glancing from the peacock to whisker man, this feeling only strengthens as I take in their identical calculating smiles.

"Ms. Everdeen. Mr. Mellark. I would like you to meet Leonard Felis, one of the most renown stylists in Panem." Effie twitters excitedly, her eyes glimmering with admiration. The queasy feeling in my stomach returns as images of them together assault me once more. She definitely has the hots for them. I bow my head in greeting, not having the strength to stomach words through my nausea.

"It is nice to meet you, Mr. Felis." Peeta replies, a friendly smile on his face. No matter how nervous Peeta gets, he always appears confident and friendly to those around him. Is Peeta that charismatic naturally or after years of practice back home? This is a question that will probably never be answered unless I ask him directly.

"Please call me Leonard," whisker man states, a triumphant grin spreading across his lips. He claps his hands together quickly, signaling a horde of brightly haired and colored people to come running from behind closed doors.

I watch them all warily, not having a good feeling about this. "Who are all these people?"

Whisker man settles his eyes on me, a knowing smirk forming. "They are your stylists, my dear. Welcome to the capitol!"

I glance quickly in Katniss's direction, noticing her making a quick escape. Her brisk walk away from us tells me all I need to know. I am about to be picked, plucked, primed, waxed, shaved, pulled, brushed, smothered, and tortured by a team of stylists for the next few hours along with Peeta. All of this in preparation for our presentation tonight in front of all of Panem.

Katniss Everdeen, I am going to kill you.