When I realized I would never be able to sleep, I crept to Charlottes room and within ten minutes I was dozing off on the floor of my bedroom because the morphling caused me to forget everything. God, it was so easy to steal from my mentor. I felt bad, and I almost never felt bad for anyone, but since I was here, somehow I was able to.

However, it calmed me down and the feeling of total relaxation was a blessing. I managed to drag myself to my bed to fall asleep and when the next morning came, my head was clear and empty. I was ready to kick some ass, whatever we were going to do.

Thanks to the dose of morphling I forgot most of the things I did last night, but I did remember crying over Rose and Flora.

I went downstairs. Laika was waiting for me.

'Hey, you need to get dressed. We're late.' He said.

'For what?' I asked.

'You know. Look, I know you were using morphling last night, okay. Don't play dumb. But we need to go to the Avenue of Victory. Chariot Rides are this evening and your stylist demands every single minute today. I'm usually not the person to rush but now we really need to. Please hurry up.'

'Why do we need to be so strictly on time? That stylist can wait.' I complained.

'No' Laika smiled 'I promise you, after today you know that you do need to be right on time.'

'But I haven't had breakfast yet and I'm hungry' I said.

'They'll get you something' he said.

I went upstairs, unsatisfied, to change my pajamas for other clothes. Kara was ready at the same time.

'Lovely. Now, Charlotte will join us later, we just need to get in the car. Hopefully there's not that much traffic' Laika said, and pushed us into the elevator. Now that a huge part of the building was empty, and mentors with no tributes were staying somewhere else, it was really steady in the hall. Jesus, Chariot Rides. This could be fun. The whole dressing-up wasn't really my thing and I didn't get what it had to do with the Games, but okay, it was a tradition.

While driving through the Head City we were able to see the building that we were going all the time. It was by far the biggest one in the city, long, high and massive. I believe they had one like this in the Capitol as well, but I never saw it on television since I never watched the Hunger Games.

'I heard District 4 had no survivors at all' said Laika, who was sitting next to the driver 'so they won't win again this year'

'Which Districts still have a lot of tributes left then?' Kara asked.

'I believe, if I'm not mistaken, that 18 and 24 both have three tributes out of five left. Eighteen is the District of Alexandria, the female preliminaries winner, you know. She survived together with her two sisters, I don't know their names though.'

'One of them is called Hayden' I said, while staring out of the window.

'Right, and 24 has three guys, but they were not astounding in the preliminaries, at least I didn't remember them.'

After a few minutes we entered a tunnel which led to the catacombs of the Avenue of Victory. The driver parked the car in a garage and we went up by elevator. I was feeling a little nervous. Tonight, again so many people would see me. I certainly wasn't shy, but this was so weird and unreal.

'Hello' said Laika to the man waiting at a door 'District 1'

'Fisher and Kingsleigh?' asked the man, while reading it off from a list.

'Yes.'

'Please continue.' He said, and he put a tick on his list.

We went through the door and suddenly we were in a huge corridor with a wall of windows on one side. The sun was streaming in. We were probably on one of the highest floors of the 'backstage' area of the Avenue of Victory, because the view was amazing.

'I'm going to leave you here, but I'll check up on you later. Someone will pick you up in a minute.' Laika announced.

'Ok' I said, and Kara nodded. Then he left.

There we were, the two of us, alone in the massive corridor. It was pretty warm. 'Amazing, isn't it?' Kara remarked while she walked to the window and pressed her hands against the glass.

'Well, thanks to that Rose and Flora aren't here anymore.' I said.

'And Jess' Kara added.

'Oh, boohoo. Who cares about her?' I said.

'Come on, get over it. She's gone. Why don't you stop the hating and focus on your own life?' she asked.

'Hello' a third person said. We turned around. It was a middle-aged woman.

'District 1?' asked she. We nodded. 'Right, follow me.'

She walked to the other side of the corridor in a hasty pass. We almost had to run to keep up. My stomach was rumbling. I needed breakfast.

'You're lucky, District 1. One of the most respected stylists the City has has been assigned to your District last year and this year he's representing this role.' The woman said. She led us to a darker space that we crossed and then we entered another corridor.

'Here it is' said our caretaker, while stopping at a door 'at least, for one of you. Who's Kara?'

'I am' Kara said and the door was opened for her. I couldn't see what was behind it.

'Good luck' I said, and she smiled. Then she went in.

'It looks like you are the one who got the best stylist in the whole nation' the woman remarked while we continued our journey. How far did this woman want me to walk?

Eventually we stopped in front of a big door.

'Good luck' she said, and opened the door for me. I didn't say anything and went in. Then the door closed behind me. I looked up.

The dressing room was huge and dark. There were several people with uniforms, who stood silently in a corner. In front of me was standing a man. He was only a few centimeters taller than me, but it was impossible to guess his age. He looked fairly normal in comparison to other people I'd seen here. He was wearing a black tunic and he had a tiny, trimmed black beard. He didn't smile. So this was the most respected stylist in the City? Didn't impress me.

I didn't get why he was frowning at me, so I wanted to step forward and introduce myself, but when I moved he raised his hand to make me stop. Instinctively I stopped. Causing trouble with the stylist I had to spend the next week with wasn't a good idea.

However, after a minute of complete silence it became scary. My stylist had walked around me, had pulled my hair and had lifted my face. Every second his frown became deeper.

Finally he said something.

'This is even worse than I thought'

'Excuse me?' I defended myself.

My stylist looked up, narrowed his eyes and gave a sign to the servants in the corner. They approached me and started unbuttoning my clothes. I tried to protest, but they didn't stop.

While they were doing that, the guy in black was walking around me again.

'The following week you'll be in my hands, Prul Peridot, and you'd do better to shut up every second of this week so I can concentrate on making you look somewhat presentable. I have a very strict schedule and I'm glad I already ordered your sizes a few days ago because otherwise I'd have to improvise on my precious designs.'

When I was just in my underwear, he examined me again.

'I'm hungry' I said. He lifted one eyebrow up. 'Well, you'd better skip breakfast more often, because you need to look thinner.'

'I am ninety pounds and 5, 7'' I said coldly.

'Too much' Prul said, and he tossed me a bathrobe. Then he pushed me onto a weird bedlike chair.

'Why can't people in District 1 take care of themselves properly?' he complained, while pushing a button so the chair suddenly became flat and I was laying instead of sitting.

'What are you going to do?' I asked. 'Waxing, of course' he replied 'Do you think I will present a hairy person tonight? No.'

I was horrified when the slaves of my stylist started putting weird strips on my legs and when they pulled them off I screamed. What the heck? What were those things? They were putting even more on my arms. 'Stop it!' I shouted 'It hurts!'

Prul, who had been sitting on another chair, slowly stood up and the other people stepped aside while he approached. He didn't say anything and suddenly slapped me in the face. 'Don't be such a pain in the ass,' he whispered 'if you whine like this in the Games you'll get a knife in your back instead of a hand on your face.'

'I hate you already' I said with a straight face, and laid down. The stylist stroked his beard, then turned around and sat down. I bit my cheeks while they got rid of the rest of my hair. I had never been this hairless before. And when they put some sort of crème on my legs they had never been this smooth before. They made me put on my bathrobe again and pushed me on another chair.

'Tonight you'll have to shine' Prul said, while pulling my hair. It hurt, because he pulled too hard. When he saw my hurt face, he only said: 'Don't worry about it.' Then he cut my hair off.

At first I was too petrified to react, but then I jumped up. 'What did you do? Why did you do that?'

'I don't need permission. You're mine.' He said.

This man had natural authority. I didn't know exactly what it was, but attacking didn't seem a good idea. I hated him. I hated everything.

However, I hated to admit it, but he was right. He was a magician with a pair scissors. A few minutes later my hair looked better than before. Previously it was long and not taken care of, but now it was just above shoulder length and clean. My heartbeat became calmer and I became even hungrier. The morning flew away and lunch was brought for everyone, but Prul didn't allow me to eat anything. 'Good training for the Games' he said. I was disgusted.

After a couple of hours they were done with my hair and it turned out they were really going to need the whole day. I bit my lip when I realized I was on the very first Chariot this year, because I was from District 1. We were opening the show. In a few hours, holy shit.

They were putting all sorts of weird stuff on my face, but for the first time in my life I felt clean and pretty. The endless sitting in a chair annoyed me and every minute I hated Prul more, and he probably hated me.

But when the sky was getting darker and it was around seven PM, dinner came.

'Here' said my stylist, while passing me a bowl of lettuce 'you can have this'

'I don't like lettuce' I said, but I still ate it, because I was starving.

Finally, they revealed my costume. At first I didn't quite understand what it was. Our District's specialization was Modern Communication, but I had no idea what this costume was about. It looked like some sort of collection of wires.

'You don't have to know what it is, because everyone will know I have designed it so they will love it' Prul announced, while he began putting it on. The costume was indeed made out of wires, just wires and nothing else. He wrapped them around my chest so tightly I almost couldn't breathe and my upper legs couldn't move while he put the thread around me. This was the most uncomfortable thing ever, but when I first saw the whole in the mirror, it actually looked fine. The golden and silver wires braided themselves around my body.

'Well, I guess this'll have to do.' My stylist said. Then he grabbed my arm and dragged me out of the room. The thread was cutting in my flesh while we got in the elevator to go down, where the preparation hall was. I didn't say anything while we the elevator was moving. I was afraid of my stylist. I was never afraid of someone, they were always afraid of me. But now, a lot of people frightened me. Thinking about the preliminaries…

'Hey' Kara said. She was wearing the same as I was wearing, the strange costume. Apparently I was one of the last to arrive, because the space where we were in was crowded. Chariots with each a pair of horses in front of them were waiting in a row, ready to ride on the Avenue, which was behind two enormous doors. I could already hear the mass outside, screaming and partying. Two hundred thousand people. And everyone was watching, at home, in Panem, in the far east of the continent and maybe even in New Asia.

I didn't say anything to my stylist anymore and walked away. I didn't know if I was allowed to, but I still did. 'He's a dictator' I said to Kara while we were walking to the very first chariot of the line.

'Well, your hairdo is nice' she said. We climbed on the vehicle and waited. There was a countdown above the doors. Five minutes before they would open. The ambiance in the space was excited and thrilled.

'Good luck' said Laika, who appeared out of nowhere 'I will be watching with Charlotte and your stylists on some of the best spots on the galleries. Nice costumes'

'They are not that comfortable, actually' said Kara.

'Well, you both look really good' he answered. Then he turned around and left us.

The butterflies in my stomach were only flattering faster and faster while the final preparations were made. Tributes were getting on their chariots and waited. The second chariot, the one behind us, was apparently for District 5, meaning no one from 2, 3 or 4 survived. A single, brown-haired guy was standing on it.

'I hope it won't be that cold' Kara said, trying to make herself hearable over the noise coming from outside and this room.

'Nope. Always summer here' I said.

'Well, this is it. Smile, right?' she asked.

'Yeah.' I answered. We both didn't want to have a conversation, we were too tense.

And finally, after the five minutes were almost over, the doors were slowly opening and the music had begun.

New chapter in either a few days or a week or two, because I might not be able to upload again before going to London for a week.