Chapter 3
The days that follow are hectic and rushed. We arrive in the Capitol after riding a train for a few hours. Along the way, Miranda and our mentors, Charlie and Rootina, explain what to expect from the other tributes. We silently watch the other tributes being reaped on the television before we pull into the train station at the Capitol.
When we get there, everything picks up a fast pace. Billee and I are rushed into the prep rooms of the building across from the Training Center to dress up for the Chariot rides. The prep team waxes my legs and arms and cleans my body head to toe, not missing a spot. It feels amazing to be clean. Not that I hadn't been clean in District 5 or anything, but being cleaned here made you feel extremely clean. There was a nice line of white on my fingernails, no dirt underneath them. My hair is washed and blow-dried into a shiny, wavy mess. My face feels minty, exfoliated from all of the sponges and cleansing soaps and oils the prep team used. It feels criminal to be this excited about how good I look, but damn I look great, fantastic, in fact. Even the small freckles that aren't normally visible across my cheekbones are visible because I am so clean. For once, I'm not so self-conscious about myself.
Then, my stylist walks in, holding a can of some Capitol energy drink. He has a pink V-neck on with a white Capitol seal embossed on it. He wears white shorts with pockets and silver zippers all over them and grey sandals that clap as he walks.
There is something off about him, something not right. I feel unsettled, like I need to have someone watching him as he puts my costume on me. He is pale and had little scars around his hands and wild tattoos of snakes and spears curling up his arm. His head is shaved all around except on the top, which is slicked up into a Mohawk and dyed pink. He looks to be about 25 years old, maybe a little older. His septum ring shines in the bright fluorescent lights as he tilts his head back and forth. Then, he puts his drink down on the table.
"I think this is going to work out just fine." he says to no one, sounding glum about the whole situation. He seems unwilling to get to know me.
"My name's—" I begin.
"Atala, yeah I know, I watched your reaping. Hey, what took you so long to go up onto the stage, huh?" he says jokingly, examining my body. I don't find his joke funny.
"I was just in shock…"
"Of course you were!" he hoots, smiling because the prep team laughs at his joke. He doesn't even look up.
"Well, I didn't get a chance to catch your name when you walked in." I say in a low voice. His assistant looks at me.
"Garry's his name. And I'm Siarrah." she says. Her voice has a crisp and clean tone to it. She's a tan young woman, probably a little younger than Garry. She has puffy blonde hair and orange eyebrows. A copper eye shadow and gold mascara accent her amber eyes well. She wears a metallic pink lipstick and has a cute little nose. Siarrah is short but has a tall look to her from her high heels, which are black and studded with silver pyramids. She has a tight, black leather dress with a funky, fabric poof from her waist down to her mid thigh. Siarrah looks good, but I don't like her. I don't like my prep team at all.
"Well, Garry, what are you dressing me in today?" I ask him sarcastically.
"Listen, I'm sorry for my rude entrance. I've just been under a lot of stress today. Can we still be friends?" I'm hesitant to accept his apology, but I do, and I shake his outstretched hand. I feel like I can't believe he has any stress under him. He lives in the Capitol, what's there to stress about?
Garry dresses me in one of his original designs and Siarrah does my makeup and hair. I am dressed in a tight silver dress. It has no straps and stops at my mid thigh, around the same length as Siarrah's dress. Then, Garry proceeds to wrap a bright copper wire around the dress about three times, starting at the bottom left corner of my dress and ending at the top right corner. To finish the dress off, he wraps a thinner gold coil around my dress, starting and ending at the same place of the wire but going around my dress a few more times in between.
Siarrah gives me a lipstick close to my normal tone, but just a little redder, making my lips look thriving and healthy. A light touch of bronze blush matches my wires, and a smoky eye shadow with liquid silver mascara makes me look vibrant. I love what she's done, but I still hate her for no apparent reason. I feel like her luxurious persona is too much for me to handle. But, she's nice so I can't complain. Siarrah falls in love with my hair. She expresses her longing for such golden, streaming hair like I have. I can only imagine how awful it would look with her tan skin. Since she's actually a stylist, I bet she probably understands how bad that would look, but she's just being nice to me. Or maybe not, after all, she is from the Capitol, and they're too well known for their odd makeup and extravagant outfits.
When we go downstairs to the main lobby where we start from, I see all of the other tributes. Fabrics and leathers and decorations cover all of them. Some look stupid but others look pretty good. Like District One, for example. They wear these extravagant outfits that look somewhat old-fashioned but had a modern twist to them. But then there were people like District 7, who wore tree bark on their clothes. It isn't attractive. Anyway, I know I cannot get to like any of the tributes too well or it will cause too much distress for me in the arena when they die. Unless I die before them…
With that note, Billee arrives next to me, grabbing my shoulder and scaring me.
"Look at you, you're beautiful." he says. Once again, I feel good about myself.
"Not so bad yourself." I tell him honestly. He has dark brown hair, so dark that it looks black but in the light you can tell its brown. His hair is short but he has bangs that swoop across his forehead. His eyes are a light green and his teeth are perfectly white. If I had the chance, I would have some interest in him, but clearly I can't since both of us will most likely die in less than a week.
Billee has grey kakis that are a slimmer fit, a more fashionable fit than the normal baggy pants I'd seen him wearing at the reaping. He has a white button up shirt that's tucked in and the sleeves are rolled up perfectly to his elbows. A matching grey tie is set perfectly at his collar and is tucked underneath a vest he wears over his button up shirt. The vest is the same shining silver that my dress is so we make a perfect match. By order of his stylist, he has silver eyeliner on along his eyelash that goes with my silver mascara. It's funny to see him with this makeup on because he's such a guy that I can tell he fought with his stylist against this but eventually gave in.
Once Caesar Flickerman begins his spiel on the Hunger Games and each of the Districts, all of the tributes are signaled to start getting onto their chariots. All of them are black with silver wheels and a silver design along the side. The horses are black too so that they don't draw too much attention to themselves. The main event is the tributes.
Then, the large wooden doors open up revealing the main street leading up to the Training Center. Thousands of Capitol citizens sit on either side of the street, roaring with applaud and praise for their favorite districts. I am lucky to be in District 5; the Capitol people get bored usually around the 6th and 7th Districts, hoping for the Chariot Rides to hurry up a bit. They are always in a hurry, and with their speedy technology and fast-paced lives, sitting for ten minutes is more than enough.
As each District's chariot came out, the applause subtly gets quieter and quieter. It is hard to notice, but if you think about the applause given for District 1 and the applause given for District 12, there is a big difference.
When Billee and I come out, it is exhilarating. The loudness numbs you and puts you in a moment of beauty. Everyone is cheering for you, and you feel special, even if it isn't for the best cause. I can see myself on the big screens all around. I look beautiful. Nobody else can compare. The silver of my dress sparkles and shines from all of the lights. Through all the despair and sadness these Games bring me, I can't help but smile.