I step into the hallway as Marcus comes out with his stylist. He is in a black tuxedo with a vest and bow-tie that matches my dress perfectly.
"You look great." He says to me. I blush a little and thank him.
"You don't look too bad yourself." I reply.
"Ok, they want all the tributes to link arms with their fellow tribute." Amber says, pushing us together. I slid my arm through Marcus' and we walk down the hallway. I feel slightly awkward linking arms with him, but we are partners, allies, friends, whatever you want to call us. I need to get past it. I don't want to get too attached though, because he could be ripped away any second in that arena. I won't let that happen, but it's still a possibility.
We are lined up with the other 98 tributes in order by state alphabetically. We are going to be the 17th pair of tributes to enter.
I look around at all my opponents. All the guys are wearing tuxedos with a vest and bow-tie that match their partner's dress, like Marcus and I, so it makes me feel better that we aren't the only matching pair. Some of the others are very intimidating. I am probably one of the smallest female tributes in my age group, while Marcus is probably one of the more muscular and taller male tributes. One looks like he's on steroids or something, because he is overly bulky for someone his age, which I can only guess is eighteen. I make a mental note to see what he is capable of in training.
The announcer begins calling off the states and tribute names. I don't pay much attention to the names being called, I mostly examine the people. Marcus starts to pull me and that's when I realized we were called. We descend the spiral stair case into a massive room.
The room itself is bigger than my entire house, with cameras dotted around at different spots in the room. A spotlight follows us and I give a winning smile, despite my nervousness of being put on the spot. Marcus is waving with his free hand and has a dazzling smile on his face, and it makes me feel better because I'm sure everyone will be paying more attention to him than me. Heck, even I'm paying more attention to him.
This is the time to start winning sponsors, I think. Of course they will go for the more charming and good-looking tributes. I push back all the butterflies and wave also. As we reach the bottom of the stairs, they call the next state and we are directed to a long rectangular table in the center of the room.
Marcus and I are seated next to each other and we sit and watch as the rest of the tributes file in. Evan is so tiny next to his fellow tribute, who looks to be about 18. I giggle a little at the sight of them.
After the last state is announced, we stand and face the flag with our right hand over our hearts' as the national anthem blares through the room. I can't help but think how ironic the anthem is now. The anthem ends and we all sit down as they announce President Stone.
He enters the room and a round of applause bursts out. All the tributes hesitate a little, seeing as he is the man sending us to our possible deaths. He is a short, plump man with hair that is a reddish color and skin that is almost ghostly. He takes a seat at the end of the table on a chair that looks like a throne, golden and polished to shine brightly.
"Welcome, welcome tributes of America! So glad you decided to join us for this feast," he says. Yea, as if we have a choice. A bell dings and waiters pour out of the kitchen to take our orders.
"Keep it healthy," Marcus reminds me. I nod and order a salad with grilled chicken and a glass of water. Marcus orders the same thing.
All the tributes seem to be examining one another, so I decide to as well. I catch Evan's eye and give him a small wave. I can see recognition cross his eyes at the sight of me, but he gives me an unsure wave then continues examining the others. Most don't look like much competition, but a few stand out for different reasons.
One boy and girl pair; from Florida I think, are both 18 and clearly have been training. One girl, only 12, from Alaska could pass as 8. She is very small and looks terrified, jumping at the smallest of noises. My protective instincts tell me to go over there and cradle her in my arms, but I can't be sure if it's an act or not. Another thing I will have to get over if I'm going to make it, my motherly instincts.
As our meals arrive, everyone digs in as the president tells a few stories. I don't pay attention, but I laugh when I hear everyone else laughing. I don't want to look in his direction though, his appearance and aura is comparable to a ghost. Not a nice ghost like Casper either. He just gives me chills.
Marcus has been busy talking to other tributes, probably looking for potential allies. I sit quietly and listen to him, until he tries pulling me into the conversation going on between him and the tributes from across the table. I just let him continue talking though adding my input every now and then. He is much better at this than I am.
When everyone finishes their food, a giant cake is placed in the middle of the table. It has about 12 tiers and is covered in a smooth white icing and decorated in icing vines and chocolate flowers. Marcus' warning to eat healthy slips my mind when I get a good look at the cake, even more so when a waiter cuts into the cake and reveals the red cake under the icing. Red-velvet cake. My favorite.
I grab my slice and gorge myself in chocolate flowers and red cake, but slow down when I remember I'm on camera. This is amazing so its harder than it should be to keep my self control.
"You have a little something on your cheek," Marcus says. He grabs a napkin and wipes the icing off my cheek. This causes me to stupidly blush. He notices and lets out a small laugh. "There you go," he says.
"Thank you," I reply. He finishes his cake and we make small-talk until it's time to be dismissed. It's getting easier to talk to him and I'm more comfortable around him the more time we spend together.
We all line back up and before we ascend the stairs, President Stone shakes each of our hands, wishing us luck. When he makes it to me, and grabs my hand I thank him and shake his hand. I look directly into his eyes, which I find was a mistake. It's almost as if he is laughing, thinking of how we could possibly die. I drop my hand and look away, clinging to Marcus' side without a second thought.
The sight of President Stone, his touch, his eyes fills me with hatred and anger, and admittedly fear. He is too powerful to not be feared. If I get on his bad side he could have any record that I ever existed wiped away. I try and calm myself, knowing I'm being filmed right now.
We walk up the stairs, and I retire to my room after saying a goodnight to Marcus. I slip out of the dress, hanging it carefully in the bag Amber left, and change into a silk night gown. I wrap myself in the warm blankets, and fall into a sleep filled with nightmares.