AN – Thank you all so much for your reviews! I really value the feedback. Thank you especially to Ellenka, Pamola Brighton, Pinkykaydee and murdrax for their continued support and advice.
To accommodate the fact that I have decided to make this a full-length story, I have edited the first 6 chapters to enhance the plot and characters, so if you have a chance, please re-visit!
Also, just to let you know, I have been writing these with the film score and some of the soundtrack, and if you have them I feel the music can help to add atmosphere.
6 – Parade
Cinna's smiling face is illuminated by the small flame that he holds in the darkness. I glance at Gale, who eyes it warily.
"Is that real?"
"Synthetic," Cinna tells us. He turns me around and holds the torch to the back of my black suit. The material stretches over my skin, and I feel self-conscious, aware of how many eyes will be fixated on me in a few moments. "Don't be afraid."
"I'm not," I look at him squarely, and he nods, in his eyes an understanding that seems incongruous in the Capitol.
Gale's face is thrown into relief by the flames that have sprung from my back. My hair is safely tied, but I can feel the fire's cool tongues at the base of my neck and I shiver. His eyes reflect the fire around me and in the shadow of the flames, the contours of his face become sharper. I realise how we will seem to everyone else. Dangerous. Beautiful. Then Gale's back is engulfed in flames, and we step onto the chariot, where so many others have stepped before us.
"The flames will extinguish by themselves," Cinna tells us.
He's about to leave, when Gale says his name. He turns, a little surprised.
"Thank you."There is a sincerity in his voice that Cinna deserves.
Cinna nods, and the horses begin to draw us away. I quickly turn my face forward, and the tunnel entrance becomes brighter.
Screaming. The Capitol's tumult almost drowns the sound of the anthem as we glide down the procession. Thousands of people are gathered, a swarm of colour cheering wildly for their favourite event of the year. My heart thuds against my chest as we emerge. The sound swells as the crowd catches sight of us, screams of fear mingling with awe. The screens that stand along the route quickly focus on us. And we are beautiful. Gale looks resolutely forward, his jawbone tight. My eyes smoulder in shadow, my cheekbones deeper, my skin glowing gold. I do not recognise myself.
The crowd grows louder, deafening me. Flowers and hats find our path, and I glimpse people individually; a woman with white hair, her mouth open in exclamation as she leans over the railing, her eyes reflecting the flames around us; a round man, thumping his fist against his knee in appreciation, his cheeks flushed.
"Don't smile," Gale whispers, barely audible.
I nod. He's right. We are distancing ourselves from the Capitol, not endearing ourselves to them like the tributes before us.
I can feel the chariot slowing, and see that the other tributes are lined up at the end of the procession. Our horses draw into position, and my eyes are drawn to the balcony where a white head looms, maximised on the screen behind him. A white powder covers his face, his lips pencilled a pale blue.
"Welcome," President Snow's voice is too familiar to me. Gale grips my hand tightly, and I do not withdraw it. His warm fingers pressing into my skin demonstrate the unity between us, our promise to each other as Seam children, friends, hunters."And happy Hunger Games!"
IIIIIIIIII
The elevator stops as a small screen reads '12'.
"There's a floor for every district," Effie explains. "And because you're District 12, you get the penthouse. It's one of the perks of representing a-a lesser district."
Doors slide open to reveal a room made almost entirely of glass. To our right stands a raised platform, where a dining table is already spread for dinner. The glass windows that encompass the floor show give us a view of the streets below, where swarms of Capitol citizens still crowd around the training centre, still trying to catch a glimpse of the tributes. A small hovercraft weaves between two buildings, throwing beams of light onto a square that is just blocked by another tower. I assume there must be more festivities going on, but we can't hear anything in here. I feel handicapped, as though one of my senses is missing, the difference between making a kill and going hungry.
Effie takes me by the shoulders and steers me across the polished floor to my bedroom. This too has a glass wall overlooking the Capitol. It's sparsely furnished, which seems to be popular here; a bed, larger than the bedroom that I share with Prim and my mother, lies in the middle, its velvet sheets covered in a red fur that I cannot place.
"I know, I know!" Effie smiles widely at my wordlessness. "A lot of tributes find this overwhelming. They're not used to the luxury, poor things. Now, dinner is at nine. And then early to bed, we've got a big, big, big day-"
I have already walked over to a door, which slides open to grant me access to a bathroom. A showerhead stands in the centre, with a drain to collect the water but no walls to speak of. A long slab of stone lines an entire wall, with a mirror where the window should be. The person staring back at me looks uncertain, and I rearrange my features until I see only the girl lit in flames. As I approach the stone, a sheet of water pours down onto the slab, stretching the length of the wall, like a waterfall. I splash water on my face, bracing myself for cold, but the liquid is warm. Realising how thirsty I am, I scoop water into my hands and gulp it down.
Soon I give up on the sink and begin to peel off my black suit, relieved as my skin meets the air. I don't know exactly what to do with the suit, so I leave it on the floor. A set of buttons are laid into the stone wall. I press the first one, and the showerhead releases another line of water, much like the one in the sink, but thicker, so that my whole body can fit underneath it. It engulfs my skin softly, the careful pressure dulling my thoughts. After a while I have to breathe, and push my head out of the stream. I can see myself in the mirror. Something about me is different. Surveying my hands, I realise what it is; the prep team has somehow smoothed my skin so that my familiar scars have vanished. Without them, I feel altered, only realising the pride I hold in my hunting once the evidence has vanished. The Capitol has taken this, my identity. Turned me into one of them.
I can't stay in the shower. As soon as I step out entirely the stream stops, and a blast of warm air comes out of the ceiling. I am dry in seconds. In my bedroom, Effie appears to have laid out an outfit; a simple black dress which ties at the back. I find myself appreciating her consideration.
IIIIIIIIII
I am the last one to dinner. Effie smiles widely at me as I sit next to Gale, and I eye the cutlery that has been laid out for me.
"Five courses," Effie confirms, beaming. "How I've missed this place!"
Gale laughs softly, but there is no humour in it.
Someone's hand reaches over my shoulder to pour a dark liquid into my glass. I look around sharply. The woman is dressed in a uniform I have seen around the Capitol, but have only registered until now. Her eyes are glazed, her bottom jaw slightly forward. Avox.
"Thank you," I say, and her eyes find mine for the briefest of moments, before darting back to the floor. I have seen this expression before, when better fed people look down on begging Seam children. Pity. The slave for the Capitol is feeling pity for me. And I can't blame her.
"Eat up!" Effie demonstrates soup drinking, exaggerating each movement, looking at us both to follow. I pick up a spoon and survey it. Gold. This could feed my family for a year. The soup slides easily down my throat, and I realise it's parsnip. The taste reminds me of home, but the metal is cold on my skin.
No sooner have we finished our soup than another course is brought by a male avox. Herbs have been sprinkled around the joint to make it look decorative, but the soup has only fuelled my appetite and I dig into the meat, watching the juices swirl around the crystal, seeping into the intricate carved patterns. Venison. I look up at Gale, who knows what I'm thinking, despite all of this. We get to eat our deer after all. His face is back to normal now, but I can't shake the image of him engulfed in flames. I had not realised how handsome he was; the curve of his jaw, his strong nose, the mouth that is always turned down, his large, angular eyes. The Games were making me see everything differently, making someone who was once so familiar seem so dangerous. Despite our deal, he is not just a friend, and a beautiful one; but an opponent. We are expected to put ourselves first, and perhaps it's just a matter of time before one of us breaks. I shake the thought from my head, but not before Gale sees my eyes flash with fear. I curse myself for letting him see my emotion. We have to be strong together. I remember our promise and listen to Effie begin to dictate the plans for tomorrow.