Chapter 7

The next hour is a blur. First, Fry and I are being herded off of the train and stuffed into a long car with a black interior and tinted windows, and then we're at a building, a very large glass building with thousands of people surrounding it, all of whom are chanting loudly though their words are too jumbled to make out. Its all extremely magnificent, and utterly terrifying. Somehow, Beatilce manages to get us through the crowd without being grabbed or torn to pieces and we enter the building where a small group of Capitol people are waiting, all sporting matching white lab coats. Beatilce calls them our stylist teams. Three of them lead me to an elevator, babbling about my hair and eyes. "I am so jealous of your eyes! What shade is that exactly?"

"Ahem, Avil she's from the districts, they don't color their eyes there, those must be natural!" I duck my head, attempting to fold in on myself. I picture the turtle Dekus and I saw one time while by the lake in the woods, I'd gone to pick it up and immediately it receded into its painted shell, blocking everything else out. I wish I could be a turtle.

Fifteen flights up the doors slide open and I realize I've been clenching my fists so hard blood draws from my palms where my nails had dug in. I suck in a breathe and hastily brush them against my dress, where it folds so as not to show up on the white. Not that it would matter anyway, the second we walk out the doors I'm led to a small triangular compartment that seems to be one of about 24 in a large circular room, they ask me to remove my clothes, and when I hesitate uncomfortably, one of them; the short one with yellow hair and matching eyes, begins tugging at my straps, pulling them off my shoulders while another Women undoes the belt from around my waist. My dress drops to the ground and I automatically wrap my arms around my shoulders, feeling silly and immature, but I can't help it. I'm not used to feeling so exposed. They tell me to lay down on the table. I comply and squeeze my eyes shut, another lame attempt at blocking out the situation...

I tell myself to fall asleep, but of course, thats impossible, what with the loud babbling and the poking and prodding at my limbs. It feels like hours of laying flat on the table while the three fuss over my hair and skin. Finally, one of them tells me I can sit up, and hands me a robe which I practically dive into the second I'm off the table.

" Here, Taris should be up any minute now, just wait in here..." The tall green skinned guy with black tattoos like vines winding their way down his arms and across his cheek leads me to a door across from the compartment and smiles. "See you soon! Oh and congratulations!" I resist the urge to slap him and walk into the small barren room, the walls are gold, but other than that the room is relatively simple, even for district standards. The only piece of furniture occupying the space is a long stretcher like table covered in white cloth at the far end of the room, pressed against the wall.

My eyes wander as I make my way over and perch myself on the table. I trace the edges of the walls with my gaze and realize with slight surprise that the gold on the wall is not plain but forms a silhouette in the undertones. It is too slight at first to make out but I slowly am able to piece together the shapes into the familiar pattern of the District 3 emblem; A large factory (that according to my father was based off the automobile building) towers over three pinion wheels, meant to represent industry.

I let out an uneven, harsh sounding breathe as I feel a weight build in my chest. 'I want to go home...' I flop down onto my back and try to brush off the sense of longing, instead deciding to focus on the black looping pattern across the ceiling that I hadn't before noticed, I suppose this room isn't quite as simple as I thought...The door swings open and I jump, bolting upright. "Oh my, I apologize, I didn't mean to scare you..."

"You didn't" I interrupt hastily "you startled me, theirs a difference" The man smiles and cocks a thin white eyebrow. "Oh, well in that case, I didn't mean to startle you." I ignore his teasing tone and narrow my eyes.

"So who are you then?" He's quite clearly Capitol, what with his unnatural looking white hair and silvery blue eyes, he's far too young to be going gray anyway...I'd guess about 30. However, for being Capitol he's dressed rather bland in a plain white shirt and matching pants. "I'm Taris, your stylist."

"I thought those people out their were my stylists..." I say, casting a pointed look toward the door. He smiles patiently "They're my team, but I am the head stylist. I'm the one that will design all your' clothing from now on." 'Costumes' I correct mentally, but nod "They just do the prep work mostly." "Fine, well...I'm Dicen" I say awkwardly.

"Oh yes yes, I'm aware. You volunteered." "Only for my sister...she's pregnant."

"Well, it was assumed it was your sister, though it must be such an honor right? Getting to represent your' District?" I don't answer. "Well, lets get to work then." He gestures for me to stand so I push myself off the table.

He measures my arms and legs with a long yellow tape measure, and then moves to my waist, he clicks his tongue "My, my, the District people are always so thin. People here would kill to know your guy's secret..." 'Poverty, starvation...' I bite my tongue to keep from saying it aloud. After he gets all my measurements he takes a step back "well, you I can definitely work with! We'll have all the Capitol boys drooling. And" He says with a conspiratory glance "All the sponsors, lined up to help save you and your innocent blue eyes." I blink, uncomfortably. I don't want to think about sponsors, though I guess I should...

Taris reaches over and snatches a small black remote off the table, 'A remote that belongs to a T40 set' I think idly, and watch as he clicks on the power button, pointing it towards the empty wall. Suddenly the wall shifts, and a small block in the middle pushes forward and then slides up, revealing a large black screen built straight into the wall. Taris presses another button and the screen sparks to life, just as smoothly as the one on the train... "Alright, so heres what we're gonna do." An outline of a person appears on the screen, spinning in circles. "You are from District Three, and usually the outfit for the chariot ride is representative of the District..." "Right" I nod "So, Fry and I are factories" "Exactly, but factories...mine as well be electronics so we were thinking that instead of real clothes, we'd do holographic clothing" I stare at him. "So...you don't want us to wear clothes?" I ask slowly "I'm sorry, but I don't feel comfortable..." Taris laughs.

"No, no" He blurts out between fits "You'll still be wearing clothes of course, we're just going to have projections being shot out of them, like this here" He gestures to the screen and I look up to see a large translucent hologram being shot out from different spots on the black unitard type thing the silhouette is wearing. The pictures change from flashing pixels to a close up of the District Three emblem. "Oh" I say, sounding slightly transfixed "Thats...cool"

"I'm glad you think so" Taris smiles "I had this idea last year, I was a stylist for District Two, but this year I specifically requested District Three so I could try it. Everyone will love it I'm sure!" I bite my lip.

Hours later, Fry and I are standing side by side in the corner of a relatively empty room, both of our stylists teams are gathered in front of us in a circle with their heads bowed together. I shift restlessly in the stretchy yet uncomfortably tight silver unitard Taris had forced upon me, Fry leans lazily against the wall, bordely examining his fingernails. He's been made up in practically the same attire, yet his stylist clearly decided to be a bit more kind and made his in a sturdier more loosely fitting material. I glare at him enviously.

Finally, he glances over at me, raising his eyebrows in mock surprise "Something wrong Dice?" I feel a pang in my stomach at the weight of Dekus's nickname for me, but ignore it.

"Why do you get to wear actual clothes while I'm stuck in..." I trail off with a pouty frown, not really sure what you would call this thing "this? It hardly seems fair."

He gives me an exaggerated once over, feigning surprise as if he hadn't noticed, and with a grin asks "What do you mean? Seems like a public service to me" He winks, I grind my teeth, and cross my arms over my chest self consciously. Fry laughs. Apparently his moodiness from breakfast has passed completely.

I stare at my feet until Frari, Fry's stylist walks up to us. Her pure white hair, identical to Taris's, balanced artfully on top of her head, her face is contorted with so much surgery she hardly looks like a human anymore and more along the lines of those small dolls all the families with a bit more money would purchase for their children when we were younger. "Oh, you two look dazzling! Now are you ready for the final touch?" She squeals and claps her hands excitedly, reminding me of Beatilce when I volunteered at the Reapings... "She pulls out a small remote, and aims it at the pack hanging loosely from Fry's hip"Step forward now, so everyone can see." She gestures excitedly. Fry raises his eyebrows, looking mildly amused and takes a step forward and away from the wall, I step back. "Alright, ready everyone?" She casts a glance around the room "Taris?" She asks looking for approval, he nods looking delighted. "Phew, alright..3...2...1!" She clicks the button and a four rays of light shoot out from Fry's shoulder, mid-chest, waist and knee all morphing together to create a large translucent screen around him, flashing colorful images of District Three, encircling him.

I stare at it wide eyed as the small group breaks into applause. "Jesus!" Fry says his lips are parted as he takes in the screen from the inside, looking transfixed he slowly raises his hand and hesitantly pokes a finger at the inside of the screen, jerking back immediately though the image remains undisturbed. "Okay, I thought the point was to represent District Three, sorry but I have never seen anything like this back home..." Taris cuts him off.

"Well, sure you have! District Three is responsible for assembling all of our holographic TV sets...surely you have them there" Fry stares at him blankly as I shake my head, watching the colors of the screen casting luminous glows on Fry's face despite the brightness of the room. 'We make a lot of things for the Capitol that we never get to use ourselves...its all for the Capitol after all.'

"Alright, well we should turn them off until its time to go, to conserve battery power" Frari says, sounding disappointed. "But, its clearly a great success! All eyes will be on you two I'm sure."

"Yea, the glowing bubbles of District Three" Fry mumbles under his breathe "My parents will be so proud."