A/N: Hi, everyone! Unfortunately, I'll only be able to post one more time this week because I'm going with the boy scouts on a summer camping trip. Yes, I said BOY scouts. Yes, I'm a GIRL. Venturing Scouts is a bit difficult to explain... Anyway, here's chapter four!
Chapter 4: The Opening Ceremonies
"Capitol sweetheart, Katniss Everdeen, was spotted early this morning with fellow victor, Peeta Mellark," the Capitol woman announces in her high-pitched patois. The leading line kind of irritates me. Since when was I the Capitol sweetheart? Last I heard, they were going to kill my friends and family if the districts didn't stop their rebellion. "The lovebirds have kept things steady since their last visit here in the Capitol on their Victory Tour and were taking a stroll on the Capitol streets when the press found them."
The television cut to footage of our run-in with the reporters. "They had no response for questions regarding a future marriage or mentorship," the voice-over says, "but claim they were touring the Capitol on their day off, even holding hands while walking along the streets. We're unsure why Katniss is not as elegantly dressed as her counterpart, but we'll expose plenty of details in the mentor interviews coming up this Quell. Katniss and Peeta have been completely silent in the last six months, and the Capitol has nearly stopped buzzing about their relationship. However, with the Quarter Quell coming up, we look forward to seeing a lot of the duo." The video clip ended and the newswoman continues with the story.
"Yes, we'll definitely keep our eye on the District Twelve tributes tonight at the opening ceremonies as this is the first year Katniss or Peeta has served as a mentor," she says. "We'll be sure to keep you updated on any breaking news with these star-crossed lovers." I snatched the remote from my nightstand and turned the TV off. I rolled my eyes and sprung off the bed. The opening ceremonies are in an hour and even though I don't have to be as flawless as last year, I have to be presentable for the Capitol.
They give the mentors free reign over their outfits except for special interviews or presentations when your tribute's stylist becomes your own. This year, Cinna would be my stylist again. In the meantime, I am happy to pick my own clothes. That only lasts a minute or two. When I reach my closet, I find all of the garments to be too frilly or too colorful. I'm used to vivid colors (Peeta's a painter, after all), but these neon shades are sickening to look at. By the time I find something decent, it's nearing six o'clock. My outfit is simple by Capitol standards, but still a bit too elaborate for my liking. I wear a straight, black waistline skirt with a soft orange blazer. It's not awful, but it's still a little constricting like one of Effie's corsets. Unfortunately, there are no such thing as flat, close-toed shoes in the Capitol, so I am left to pick from painful four inch heels with intricate print or plain ones that to my disliking are at least another inch taller.
I choose the shorter, garnished ones, hoping it won't hurt my ankle any more. The throbbing has subsided, but it's still sore to walk on. Time isn't on my side, so I neglect to redo my hair, but the small amount of makeup from this morning is thankfully still intact. Peeta and I share adjacent rooms right across the hallway from each other, but I'm positive he's already downstairs at the Training Center. Why couldn't the girls in the Capitol dress like boys? It would be so much simpler to get dressed, and I'd even get to keep my body hair.
I shake my head in disapproval as I tap the ground floor button. When I arrive in the Remake Center lobby, the twelve chariots are lining up in order of their district, allowing the stylists and mentors to perfect their tributes before presenting them to the Capitol. I head to the end of the line to find Peeta already here as suspected. He's speaking to Lenora, apparently giving her instructions in my absence.
"Sorry I'm late," I apologize. "What's going on?"
Peeta draws a blank when he looks at me and Lenora answers instead. "He said that my angle was going to be friendly and likeable, so I should probably wave and smile to the Capitol citizens on the way through." I nod in agreement. Lenora couldn't pull off arrogance with her small frame and quiet demeanor, sexiness with simple features like my own, or slyness with an apparent honesty to mirror Peeta. He still hasn't said a word and I turn back to him to catch him staring.
"What about Kade?" I ask. "He's going to need an angle as well."
Peeta blushes. "He's a bit like you." I smirk at him, understanding what he means. Last year, when Haymitch couldn't find an angle for me to play, he told me just to tell the truth and hope the Capitol didn't hate me during the interviews. My first thought is to do the same thing as I did and wing it, but it would be boring to watch the same thing two years in a row. I can't stop my smirk from spreading to an all-out grin as I think of an arrangement that will keep the Capitol entertained while pleasing my stubborn, unforgiving nature. Peeta raises his eyebrows in question of my motives.
"I'm thinking he can pull off being like Haymitch," I admit. He's not thrilled with the suggestion, but it's the only way I know of to remedy our problem. There was no time to argue because the trumpets sound from outside and the television screens in the lobby flash to life with the faces of Claudius Templesmith and Caesar Flickerman. I ignore their introductions as Peeta and I say goodbye to Lenora. Cinna is finishing up with Kade's costume and he steps on the District 12 chariot just as the announcement rings through the Remake Center lobby that all escorts, stylists, and mentors are to report to a designated area below-ground in the Training Center to watch the ceremony.
There are too many of us to take the elevator, so the forty-eight of us go downstairs by foot. I realize Peeta has only taken his eyes off me once to glance down so he wouldn't miss the first step with his bad leg. I gaze around the Training Center uncomfortably before Peeta speaks. "If you want, I can take them down in the morning," he says. I'm not sure if I've lost my skill at hiding my emotions or if Peeta's just learnt to read me that well in the last few months. I don't respond until we sit down at a round table set up for our district.
"Thanks, this place brings back too many mem-"
"You're beautiful." I look strangely at Peeta for a moment, thinking about his outburst and unaware how long I hold my gaze. "I just didn't see the point of keeping it to myself any longer."
I smile, but stop myself before I say anything. What was I supposed to say? Thank you? Ugh, this is so annoying. Say something, Katniss. Say anything, just form words. In the blink of an eye, a huge screen flashes and shows the District 1 tributes followed by their commentary. I've lost my chance to say anything at all. Then the guilt kicks in. Peeta is so kind to me, and I have no idea how to respond or repay him.
I try to focus my attention to sizing up the tributes, but my stomach sinks even lower. All of the tributes are fairly healthy this year because they've never been on death's door from starvation. The tributes from District 3 are the smallest of them all and I see their mentors give meek smiles of encouragement to show their support from a distance. The District Four tributes are scantily clad in swimming suits and when they reach the inner-city circle, I hear their table cheering and hooting for them. With my short attention span, the next few districts float by. Seven, eight, nine. They're reaching the end of the line and I'm ready for the District 12 tributes to come so we can get this over with. I'm sick of these heels already. Even when I'm sitting down, my ankle is turned at an unnatural angle and the pulsing is starting to come back.
I'm genuinely not paying attention to the competition. Maybe because if I did, I would feel sorry for them when it was time for twenty-three of them to die. It wasn't about just trying to get the kids from District Twelve home, it was being desperate to keep one of them alive because there's a strong possibility they could both be dead in a week. I know why Haymitch turned to liquor now. He went through this twenty-three times before he emerged victorious and I wondered how long it would take us.
Peeta slips his arm around me and I jump a little because I'm surprised. There aren't any cameras around and the other mentors either won't care or they'll think it's an act. He starts to pull away, but I lean back to reassure him that he hasn't stepped over a line yet. I'm actually relieved to have a support because the chairs were designed for style instead of comfort.
I know exactly when it's our district's turn because the crowd collectively takes in their breath. Cinna and Portia have outdone themselves. I hardly noticed Lenora's costume a moment ago, but they are unforgettable now. There are no clothes lit on fire tonight. Cinna is absolutely original in every design.
They don canary yellow clothing alluding to the old phrase 'canary in a coal mine'. Lenora actually fits the image of a small, sweet bird, but the only thing Kade resembles is a caged canary. He's very clearly pissed with the Capitol for being here and I have a feeling I'm going to have fun coaching his interview.