Being waxed and scrubbed down from head to toe, though I've never done so before, isn't as bad as I would have thought. The waxing hurts a little, but I really liked feeling so smooth after. The stylists are like birds fluttering around me asking all kinds of questions about the district and my life there. I try to be nice and answer every question as accurately and as detailed as possible. "All of you are so wonderful," I sound sickening. "Thank you so very much for cleaning me up to make me presentable for the opening ceremony, without you I would be doomed." I mean these people are going to be near my head with scissors. It's best not to anger them before they decide I'd look better with a shaved head. I might be dying in a few days, but I want to at least look decent before then.

They seem genuinely touched by my comments, and I'm not sure if I meant what I said, but they are so happy the lady with the purple skin and head tattoos touches my arm gently and says, "I really hope you make it to the final eight at least," then she takes me to the head stylist, some other Capitol idiot and she shoves me in an all too tight bodysuit that looks like a wheat field and a grass skirt. Wow, how original. At least my face looks pretty.

"Um, excuse me, ma'am," the stylist turns to look at me, "What am I supposed to be exactly?"

"Oh, my simple child, you're not finished yet! But we're hoping you look like the ancient Greek goddess of the harvest, Demeter. I don't think you would've been taught about that history, but the citizens of the capitol will know," she smiles and tosses her pink hair over her shoulders.

"Oh that's just wonderful," I beam, trying my best to maintain the perfect tribute facade. "I just knew I had been given an excellent team here. Thank you so very much ma'am."

I think she blushed, but with all the makeup it's hard to tell.

They continue to work on me and add flowers in my hair and putting a cape on me as well that's supposed to make me look like this goddess, but honestly it's ridiculous. I've seen enough of the parade outfits to know this is up there with the ugliest ones yet. I just hope potential sponsors like it. My mind wanders and I begin to wonder about the actual games and exactly how I plan on getting to win. It's pretty impossible to win if you're in the lower half of the reaping ages, but about four years back Finnick Odair did at fourteen, and the capitol adores him. But 50% of past victors have been seventeen when they won. I make a mental list of the things I can do that will help me stay alive. I how to forage for food and I can climb and I can make a fire and I definitely can trap things. Also, based on today I'm a considerably good actress. I think we're going to have to work the art of deception if we'll have a chance of winning. I haven't talked to Timothy yet, but honestly I want as little interaction as possible.

I look utterly hideous but by the end of my makeover, but I have no control over it, and I make my way to the stables to get ready for the opening ceremony. Timothy looks almost as dreadful as myself, but this ceremony is probably the least important part of the hunger games so I doubt we're in any trouble.