The next morning, I wake up early. After getting dressed, I walk to the dining car to see if breakfast is ready. Clove and Enobaria are already there, but my mentor is nowhere to be seen.

"Where's Brutus?" I ask.

"Still asleep," Enobaria answers. "We'll be arriving in the Capitol in about an hour."

"Okay," I reply, no longer paying attention. Right now, I am much more interested in the food. Loading my plate with ham, sausage, rolls and eggs, I wonder, not for the first time, how the people of the Capitol can eat so much.

As I gorge myself, I catch sight of Enobaria's teeth. Each one ends in a point and is inlaid with gold. She had the surgery done after she won her Games in honor of her most famous moment - ripping her opponent's throat out with her teeth. Enobaria's famous for them, but I've never been close enough to see them before.

Enobaria catches me looking and gives me a big smile. "Like them?"

"Yeah." I've never seen anything like them, not even from the stylists they interview during the Hunger Games. They are pretty cool, but I don't think I'd do anything like that after my Games. Not my style.

Enobaria just laughs. "Just wait until we get to the Capitol." This makes even Clove laugh. The Capitol is known by all the districts for having a very unique sense of fashion. Personally, I think it just makes them all look stupid. For a while, everyone busies themselves with eating, which I have no problem with.

"I'd better go wake up Brutus. Don't want him to miss the opening ceremonies," Enobaria announces as she leaves the table. I decide to take this opportunity to get to know my new ally. She is rather small for a Career, but I doubt I should give this much weight. The smallest ones can be the most deadly. She has long dark hair, in contrast to my blonde, but she shares my blue eyes. It's one characteristic that most people of from District Two have.

"So, are you ready for the opening ceremonies?" I ask casually.

"I was born ready," Clove replies cockily. "I just hope our stylists actually have brains in their heads."

"That's a lot to hope for." This has her laughing again, and I smile.

"Enobaria said to do whatever they tell us to, without complaining." Clove sounds annoyed. "Who knows what they're going to do? What if they're crazy?"

Now I'm laughing. "I think she knows what she's talking about. It's not her first time."

"Obviously."

"Tell you what. You can call them all the things you want… in your head." She gives an exasperated sigh, and I can't help but smile at her irritation. "I mean, what's the big deal anyway? It's not like we're from Twelve and have to wear those hideous miner outfits, or Ten with their cow costumes."

"I don't know why I bother," she mutters.

Suddenly, everything gets dark. We must be passing through the tunnels leading to the Capitol. The Capitol is surrounded by mountains, so the only way in without having to climb them is through the tunnels. We must be getting close.

"Almost there," I whisper under my breath, too quiet for even Clove to hear. One more week. In one week, I will do what I am meant to do. I turn and see my thoughts reflected on Clove's somber face. One of us will die, I think. And it's not going to be me.

Just then, Atilius enters the dining car, looking like he's just woken up. He's obviously very excited.

"We're here! Come on, you two, let's get going. We have to get you to the Remake Center," he announces. He goes on to chatter on about our stylist this year, and how amazing our costumes are sure to be. Clove looks about ready to kill someone, but Atilius takes no notice. What's considered amazing in the Capitol is vastly different from amazing in District Two.

Thankfully, Brutus now chooses to enter the car.

"Time to go," is all he says, curtly, before turning to leave. Without question, we follow him, eager to escape Atilius. I never knew one person could be so annoying.

On the way to the Remake Center, Brutus tells me pretty much the same thing Enobaria told Clove - as much as you hate it, put up with anything the prep team does. I'm not sure how my cooperation with a bunch of frivolous Capitol citizens can possibly help me win the Games, but I decide to listen to him. After all, Brutus has been through this enough times to know what he's doing.

When I finally get to the Remake Center, I'm ushered into a room and three typical Capitol people enter. The first, I think her name was Floria, has long green hair, and the entire surface of her skin is covered with tattoos of flowers, leaves and butterflies. Right behind her comes a man with blue hair pointed up into tall spikes. He has metal rings all over his face - on his nose, lips, ears and tongue. The last member of my prep team has such bright yellow skin, I have trouble looking directly at him.

I am successful at tuning out most of their meaningless babble, their voices being nothing more than a dull drone in the background as they prepare me for the opening ceremonies. I don't pay much attention to what they do to me, but I'm mildly aware of lots of baths in strange liquids and odd smelling scrubs. They also put some strange chemical on my face. I'm not sure what any of these things are supposed to do, and I don't really care. I'm busy trying to decide if I should act friendly toward the Capitol audience or go the intimidating route and ignore them. I make a mental note to ask Brutus before the ceremonies start.

I wonder what they are doing to Clove. I just hope she keeps her thoughts to herself, although judging by the look she gave me right before she went into her remake room, at least one member of her team is coming out with a black eye.

After what seems like forever, I am finally allowed to meet my stylist. A young woman, maybe twenty-three, walks into the prep room.

"My name is Antonia," she tells me in her ridiculous Capitol accent. "It's my job to make you look fabulous! But first, lunch. Follow me."

As she leads me to wherever lunch is being served, I observe the person who will be my stylist, both now and on the Victory Tour. Compared to my outlandish prep team, Antonia seems rather toned down. Or at least as toned down as people can get in the Capitol. Sure, she's wearing the strangest clothes I've ever seen - her dress looks like a balloon - and her hair is pink, but at least her skin is a natural colour and her only tattoo is a pink butterfly on the back of her neck. I think that with normal clothes, Antonia might be pretty.

I am led into a room with a wall made entirely of glass overlooking the city. I must say, the view is amazing. When I look down at the table, I find it covered with food and immediately start stuffing myself until I'm sure I can't hold another bite. Then, Antonia speaks.

"So, let's get down to business. I was thinking to portray you as a strong fighter. Invincible. How do you feel about gladiator meets Roman god? I already have the most stunning outfit planned, and you seem perfect for it. I can't wait to see it on you! And I'm sure the audience will love it," Antonia says, talking faster than I thought possible. What is it with these Capitol people and their idiotic babble? Oh well, at least the costume sounds decent enough.

"I can't wait to try it on," I reply, my voice dripping in sarcasm. Antonia either doesn't pick up on it or ignores it. Either way, she doesn't seem fazed. If anything, she's even more excited, as if I actually want to get dressed up in some stupid costume and parade around in a chariot. I came here for one reason, and it's not to play dress up.

"Well then, come on! Let's get you ready!" That overly chipper voice is already giving me a headache. This is going to be a long day.