Don't react

The damage is done

The police are coming too slow now

Unfortunately, my prayers are not answered, because the next day, I find myself still stuck in this God-awful train. I check the clock on the wall. Seven-thirty.

I hop out of bed and ignore the heaps of clothes in the drawers, just pull on the dress I was wearing yesterday. I also pin my mockingjay pin to my chest. I think about taking a shower, but I decide not to, since I'll be in the hands of my dreaded 'prep team' soon enough.

I head to the dining room, surprised to find that I'm the last one up. Marianna, Brandon, Astrid and Haymitch are all crowded round the table, stuffing themselves with food.

"Morning," Brandon says gruffly.

"Good morning, Maysilee, dear!" Marianna smiles. "Come, sit, sit!"

My stomach almost plummets to the ground because I notice that the only available seat is next to Haymitch. There's nothing for me to do about this arrangement, so I merely do as I'm told and take my place next to him.

"Sleep well, sweetheart?" Haymitch asks me quietly.

I shrug, taking in the dark circles under his eyes. "You certainly didn't."

Haymitch's smirk falters, and his grey eyes flash dangerously. "That's none of your business," he snaps.

"Whatever," I mutter, placing a slice of toast onto my plate and buttering it, since I doubt my stomach can handle much more of this rich Capitol food.

"Now," Brandon begins. "I think I should probably explain the subject of sponsors right about now. Sponsors are key to your survival in the arena. It's unlikely you'll get very far if you don't earn some sort of gift from a sponsor."

"So, how do we get sponsors?" Trey wonders, asking the question that's on everyone's minds.

"You appeal to the audience," Brandon explains. "Such as in the chariot rides today – you smile and wave at the crowd. Get a good score in training. But most especially, you have to do well in your interview. Every tribute has some sort of angle – funny, sexy, witty... Anything. The only trouble is deciding who should play up what."

He looks us all up and down like he did yesterday, as if wondering what sort of angle each of us will be going for. Truthfully, I find the whole thing disgusting. Why am I being all dolled up for the slaughter? And frankly, my attempting to get sponsors will be pointless, because even if I do well, I still won't be able to hold a candle to those Careers.

But I simply smile at Brandon and nod because I know that any complaining on my part will be useless.

"Oh, my God!" Marianna squeals, jumping out of her seat and skipping over to the window. She looks back at us and grins. "Welcome to the Capitol, dears."

I swallow hard and run to the window, Trey and Astrid behind me. I gasp, stunned at the beauty I see before me. The Capitol's tall building spires seem to touch the clouds. Rows of fancy houses, designed by expert architects, line the street.

But this tiny vision of perfection is short-lived, because the train zooms past dozens of trimmed pine trees, and we pull in at the station.

The screaming outside is deafening. So much that we hear the Capitol people before we even see them. They're crowded around the train, cheering and clapping and laughing as they catch sight of us. But all that registers in my mind is how weird they are. Cosmetically altered skin, ridiculous clothes, piles of makeup, obviously fake wigs. It's so much to take in that all I can do is gape at them.

I glance back and see Brandon mouthing 'Wave!' at us.

And so we do. I force a smile upon my lips and wave at these strange, foreign people before me. Trey and Astrid copy my actions, the latter a little more timidly.

But then, I remember there's someone missing. I turn around and see Haymitch, still sitting down, sulking and looking disgusted. Most especially at me. His eyes are fixated on mine, and he looks angry. I want to tell him that I hate this. That I hate waving and smiling at these people who will soon be betting on my life. I'm only doing this so that I'll get a sponsor or two, that's all.

But there's no chance for me to say any of this aloud, because then Marianna tugs us all outside, where a couple of Peacekeepers await.

"Ouch," I mutter, as Blaze – a man with fiery red hair and colourful tattoos – rips hair off my leg, along with one or two layers of skin.

"Almost done, Maysilee!" he assures me. "Just one more..."

I brace myself as another round of intense pain hits me. Then, I look down at my legs and find them completely lacking in hair.

I breathe a sigh of relief, thankful that my 'plucking' session is now over. So far, I've been bathed in disgusting liquids, stripped of armpit, leg, pubic and arm hair. I feel like a turkey, ready to be sliced up and eaten.

"Onto your makeup!" A woman I think is called Bree squeaks. She's petite, and her head is completely shaved. She's got weird green eye shadow, complete with black lipstick.

Bree begins to coat my lips in bright red paints, whilst another woman called Accalia – bleach blonde hair, dyed pink skin – curls my hair and sprays heaps of product onto it.

"Oh, I wish my hair was naturally blonde!" she sighs sadly.

My prep team begins to chat about the latest scandal in the Capitol. A hideous haircut someone got, who said what about their best friend. It's mindless gossip, so I effortlessly tune them out and pick at my nails while they work on me, pretending like I don't want to throttle them for being obsessed with such petty things when forty eight kids are being forced to fight to the death right under their noses.

However, I find myself listening into their conversation when it turns to Haymitch.

"Have you seen the boy from 12?" Accalia giggles. "The one with the dark hair? Oh, he's positively gorgeous!"

"Tell me about it!" Bree chuckles. She meets my eyes. "What do you think of him, darling?"

"He's all right," I mutter, not really wanting to discuss this boy with idiotic Capitol citizens.

"All right?" Accalia squawks in disbelief. "He's sexy!"

I bite my tongue, desperately wanting to confide in them that, as a matter of fact, I do find this boy sexy and gorgeous and beautiful. But the more rational side of me says this is a bad idea.

An hour or two later, my prep team say all at once, "Finished!"

"Your stylist will be here in a moment," Blaze informs me. "So, just wait here like a good little girl, okay?"

I nod through clenched teeth, though I'm angry at the way he addresses me, like I'm just a stupid child.

My prep team embrace me and tell me how beautiful I look, how the Capitol men will literally bow down to me. Accalia kisses me on the cheek, and Bree goes mental at this, fussing that she'll smudge my makeup.

Then, the door slams shut, and I'm almost glad that they're gone. They're just so...overwhelming, these Capitol people. I sigh, knowing that I'll be forced to deal with more of them in the days to come.

I wrap a robe around my naked body, as if to protect it, although I know that my stylist will just demand I take it off, so that he or she can scrutinize every inch of my body. The idea makes me nervous, a stranger seeing me naked.

Just then, the door bursts open, and standing there is a blue man. No, I mean, literally. His skin is dyed electric blue, and a curly black wig sits atop his head. He wears a black shirt, with golden ruffles running down the middle. His pants are leopard print.

"Strip," he says suddenly.

Blinking, I take off my robe, letting it drop to the floor. His eyes narrow, and he walks around me in a circle once or twice, looking me up and down. I feel so incredibly self-conscious and exposed.

I wonder how my district partners are handling the whole 'naked in front of a total stranger' thing. Especially Haymitch. But then I stop, because the thought of Haymitch naked only makes me blush.

"Don't be embarrassed, darling," he reassures me, completely misunderstanding the reason for my flushed cheeks. "I'm your friend." He smiles. "My name is Fabian." He offers me his hand. "It's lovely to meet you."

I smile hesitantly, shaking his hand. "I-I'm Maysilee Donner."

"I have a fantastic outfit for you," he tells me happily. "It's rather skimpy, but I'm pretty sure you have the body for it."

I nod, suddenly nervous at what kind of outfit Fabian's conjured up for me. I remember a couple of years back, when the tributes were stark naked and covered in coal dust. If I'm forced into being naked in front of Haymitch, I'll probably have some kind of breakdown.

"Maysilee?" Fabian says patiently. "Did you hear me?"

"Um, I'm sorry!" I apologize quickly. I'd been so caught up in my own thoughts and worries, I completely forgot Fabian was right there. "C-Could you repeat the question?"

Fabian laughs softly. "I said, would you like to see your costume?"

I nod wordlessly, preparing for the worst.

Fabian picks up a black bag from the counter. He zips it open, and inside lies probably the most promiscuous outfit I've ever laid eyes on.

My costume for the Opening Ceremonies is tiny denim dungarees, like a coal miner would wear. Only the top half is completely bare, except for a lacy black bra, and the dungarees straps. The other half is just small shorts.

"W-Wow," I stammer. "This is really-"

"Beautiful?" Fabian finishes.

More like slutty. Revealing. Disgusting.

"Exactly," I lie smoothly, staring down at my costume. "Absolutely...beautiful."

Fabian's mouth stretches into a grin. A rather scary grin, I might add, due to the countless times he's gone under the plastic surgeon's knife.

"I'm glad you like it!" he says. "Now, let's get you into it, shall we?"

No! I think. Please, please don't force me into such a horrible outfit...

But I keep my mouth shut and nod, smiling my head off, like this is the best thing that could possibly happen to me.

"Close your eyes," Fabian murmurs.

I do as he says, and he guides me as I step into the dreaded costume. I slip into a pair of dangerously tall high-heels.

"Open your eyes," he instructs.

I open my eyes, and am disgusted by the creature I see before me.

My face looks beautiful, I'll give my prep team that. My blonde hair is curled and styled to perfection. My makeup is flawless - red lipstick, heavy black eye shadow, eye liner, the works.

But my body... well, I look like a whore. Let's leave it at that. The dungarees barely cover my ass. The bra, I notice, pushes up my breasts, heavily emphasising them. My legs are long and toned. The high heels – black ones, studded with jewels – make me a couple of inches taller.

"You look phenomenal," Fabian compliments me.

"Thank you," I mumble, though I'm not thankful at all, because he's made me look nothing like myself.

"Oh, I almost forgot," he says. He picks my mockingjay pin off of the counter, and sticks it to the front of my dungarees.

"Perfect." He smiles. "Now let's get you to your chariot, m'lady."

I am whisked down to the ground floor of the Training Center, which is, essentially, a gigantic stable. Dozens and dozens of identical chariots – complete with black horses – are dotted around the Training Center.

I scan the crowd for my fellow District 12 tributes, and I find them soon enough. They're located towards the back of the Training Center. Fabian kisses my hand and wishes me luck, and I march over to my district partners.

Trey and Haymitch's eyes widen as they take me in. Most especially Trey's, but I know that Haymitch is good at disguising his feelings, so I don't think too much of that.

"You look very nice, Maysilee," Trey coughs. His eyes linger on my chest a little longer than I would like.

"I look like a whore," I mutter.

"You say that like it's a bad thing." Haymitch grins.

"Isn't it?" I counter.

"Not where you're concerned," he replies, eyeing me up and down.

I blush, and look away from him quickly, turning to Astrid. Thankfully, they have not dressed her in the same outfit as me. It would've been all the more disgusting, if a mere child was sexualised that way. But then I realize that I, too, am a mere child.

Astrid is dressed in diamond-studded dungarees that completely cover her chest, and reach her knees. She also has a coal miner's hat on. Lucky her.

It's only then that I notice Haymitch's costume. He's dressed identically to me, except he's completely shirtless, and he also wears a coal miners hat. I find it hard to avert my eyes from him.

"Take a picture, sweetheart, it'll last longer," he says sarcastically. "And Trey – close your mouth. Seriously, you're drooling."

I glance at Trey who, has been staring at me this whole time.

Trey swears under his breath, and Haymitch mutters something about "horny little bastards." It's then that we're shoved into our chariots, and Marianna appears out of nowhere.

"Trey and Astrid in one chariot," she recites off of a neon pink clipboard. "And Haymitch and Maysilee in the other." She smiles at us, and trots off.

Trey lifts Astrid into their chariot, as the poor thing is so small she can't even get into it. I look at Haymitch, and he's gesturing to the empty, black chariot beside him, which can only be ours.

"Ladies first," he says.

I roll my eyes a little as I climb the two steps into the chariot. Haymitch is up and beside me in no time. I realize it's the first time I've been alone with him.

"So, now it's just us two, right, Blondie?" Haymitch observes.

I wince at the nickname. "Please don't call me Blondie."

"Why?" He smirks, reaching out to touch a curl of my hair, twirling it round with his finger. "It's true."

"Just-" I fume, getting irritated now. "Just stick to calling me 'sweetheart', will you?"

"Why?" He leans a little closer, a smile playing on his lips. "Do you like it when I call you sweetheart, sweetheart?"

I can sense a blush creeping up onto my cheeks, and I feel hot. "I never said that."

Haymitch gives me a look that says he doesn't believe a word of it, when the infamous trumpets begin to blare. The first chariot rolls out onto the streets of the Capitol, containing a duo of District 1 tributes, dressed head-to-toe in jewels. I can hear the roar of the crowd as they catch sight of the very first Quarter Quell tributes, the first pair of children who will surely die for their entertainment.

I feel sick all of a sudden, and I'm sure it shows on my face, because Haymitch whispers, "You okay?"

"I'm fine," I mutter.

"You don't seem fine," he says.

I look up at him, expecting to see him infamously smirking. But he's not. He looks genuinely concerned for my well-being.

I blink, embarrassed because he's standing so, so close to me. And his lips are so, so close to mine.

"I told you, I'm fine," I say softly.

He doesn't push the subject further after that.

Finally, it's our time to shine, because we're suddenly being rolled out into the street, right after Astrid and Trey. I fix a wide grin on my face, and wave at the crowd as we swish past. There's even some wolf-whistling, and the women of the Capitol are going crazy for Haymitch, so it seems.

"You've got an admirer or two," I whisper to him as we pull into the City Circle. I glance behind me, noticing the giggling crowd of women pointing and screeching at Haymitch. "Or fifty."

Haymitch makes a face of disgust, and I can tell he hates being considered an object of lust for these fake Capitol women.

Us tributes are now in a strange semi-circle shape around President Snow's mansion. The man himself emerges from his top-floor balcony, and the crowd goes wild.

I glare up at the President, wondering if he knows how much I despise him and everything he stands for.

He welcomes us tributes to the Capitol, congratulating us on our 'success' so far, and recites the Treaty of Treason. He then wishes the whole of Panem a 'Happy Quarter Quell' and steps back, into the depths of his mansion.

And then we're rolled back into the Training Center, where Marianna and Brandon await. Soon after, Astrid and Trey arrive, looking flushed and stunned. It occurs to me that I probably look somewhat that way, too.

"You were all fantastic!" Marianna tells us, when we're all off our chariots and down on level ground.

"Yes," Brandon agrees. "In fact, I think Haymitch gained one or two admirers. The women were going wild for him."

Haymitch glares at our mentor, like he hates him for pointing it out.

"Can you blame them?" I blurt out.

Everybody's attention turns to me, then. Brandon observes me strangely for a moment or two, whilst Marianna smiles a little to herself.

Haymitch's angry look falters a little, and he looks at me in an almost...pleased sort of manner.

Marianna leads us to the elevator, where, at the top floor, our quarters will be located.

Stupid! Stupid! I tell myself. If my crush on Haymitch was unbeknownst to everyone before, it sure as hell isn't now.

The elevator zooms to the very top of the Training Center at lightning speed.

"This is our stop!" Marianna says brightly, as the elevator makes a 'ding!' sound.

We step out into a wide hallway, decorated with beautiful art and sculptures.

"This way." We follow Marianna further down the hallway. She turns a doorknob, and we step into a room that is huge beyond belief. There's a glass dining table, a long leather couch, a plasma screen TV and four doorways off to the right, with each of our names carved into the wood.

"Wow," I breathe.

"I know!" Marianna laughs. "Now, you four should go clean yourselves up a little before dinner."

She struts off, Brandon trailing behind her. And Haymitch, Astrid, Trey and I are just standing there, observing each other in silence.

"Well," I say, the first to speak. "I'm just uh, going to get changed." I want to be the first one to get out of there, because I'm deathly afraid someone will ask me about my little comment about Haymitch.

"Wait," Haymitch stops me, grabbing my wrist. His touch sends an electric current running through my body. "I need to talk to you, sweetheart."

I glower at him, but all he does is give Astrid and Trey a pointed look. The two of them walk off to their respective rooms, leaving Haymitch and I alone.

"What?" I snap.

"What were you talking about back there?" he asks.

"I don't know what you're talking about," I mumble, wishing the ground would open up and swallow me whole. Anything to get me out of this awkward, awkward situation.

"Yes you do," he replies firmly. " 'Can you blame them?' Does that ring any bells, sweetheart?"

"It just slipped out, okay?" I spit. "I...I didn't mean..."

"Didn't mean what?" he cuts me off. "That you find me attractive?" He raises an eyebrow.

"Says the boy who couldn't take his eyes off my breasts!" I snap back.

Haymitch rolls his eyes. "I think you're confusing me with Trey."

"Just...leave me alone, Haymitch," I sigh.

And with that, I walk off to my room.

A/N: Ooh, drama! ;) Okay, so, let me know what you thought of that chapter! Btw, Maysilee's chariot outfit is now on my Polyvore account, which you can find the link to on my profile. :)