Hey everyone! Thank you for all of the reviews! I'd like some opinion on the characters' personalities...too shallow or confusing? Please let me know! :) Enjoy!
Cato's POV
Clove is sitting by a giant Cornucopia. I see her brown hair flowing down her shoulders and framing her freckled face. She giggles and waves me over playfully. Just as I am about to reach her, last year's Victor materializes behind Clove, a knife to her throat. I see Clove's face contorted in fear as she screams my name through her sobs. I rush forward to protect her like I promised at school, but an unseen force holds me back. I watch in horror as the knife slowly glides back and forth across Clove's slender neck. Finally the Victor vanishes along with my barrier and I am holding my love in my arms. The sight of her blood brings tears to my eyes.
"You promised to protect me, why didn't you? Why did you let this happen to me?" she gasps through her pain. She slowly drifts out of life, ignoring my pleas to stay awake, stay awake…
The bright rays of sunlight jolt me awake from my horrendous dream. I try to catch my breath, try to convince myself that it wasn't real. That Clove is still alive and I haven't failed her. Trying to distract myself, I take a quick shower and throw on a blue dress shirt and some slacks. Gotta look good for the Capitol people, aka potential sponsors. When I walk out of my room, I find Brutus waiting right outside.
"Good morning," I greet with anxiety. He must remember what he saw between me and Clove last night and spent his sleeping hours thinking of how to manipulate it into a Capitol love story.
"Morning," he replies passively. "Look, about last night, don't worry. Enobaria doesn't know what I saw. Your secret is safe with me. I had a girl from my academy days too; we always hid it from everyone. I know how you feel. Just don't let yourself fall to hard okay? Whatever happens to her in the arena happens, and you can't change it."
I feel relief flood through my veins. "Thanks for the warning, but nothing is going to happen to her. She is going to survive; I'll make sure of it." Brutus nods solemnly as we enter the dining car for breakfast. I take the seat next to Clove and bid her good morning. I can't help the smile that crosses my face when she reaches for my hand under the table. It fuels my determination for her to win, to not let my nightmare become a reality. This thought, as usual, puts Confident Cato into play. I can practically feel the academy's training spread through my heart, contorting it into that of a murderous monster. I hastily let go of Clove's hand, instinctively isolating myself from any weaknesses. The hurt registers on her face, but before I can respond a splash of rainbow streams through the windows. We have arrived at the Capitol.
Clove's POV
I can see Cato's gears working in his head and know he is trying to fight of the arrogance that has been plastered to him by our teachers. But I also know that he will never use it against me, never to harm me. As I will never use Academy Clove to hurt him. He rushes to the window, and I follow. The bright candy colors flash by too fast to see anything clearly. The train slows as we pull into the station, Capitol citizens cheering and waving. We descend onto the sleek station floor, returning air kisses and waves to our Capitol fans. Peacekeepers guide us into the Training Center to meet our prep teams and stylists. I take in the lavish décor all around, much fancier than the train. Cato and I are separated and taken to be prepped for tonight's opening ceremonies. I am greeted by a bubbly array of ridiculous people. A girl who introduces herself as Augusta chatters away as she waxes my legs, something I have regularly done and am used to. I take in her orange hair braided down to her ankles, yellow skin, and red jewels covering her body as she moves onto shaping and painting my nails. She looks like a sunset, full of color. After the gold nail pain with red stripes has dried, I am handed over to a shiny man called Nero. He adorns purple permed hair. Silver intricate tattoos cover his golden skin, making him appear to be laminating constant light. He skillfully puts my hair in a simple bun high on top of my head. I am surprised at such a simple design; usually a tribute's hair is full of color and detailed accessories. The last step before meeting my stylist is make up, done by a short paunchy man named Denim. Other than the tiger stripe tattoos covering his entire body, he seems pretty normal by my standards. He doesn't talk my ear off like the others. Denim spends at least an hour putting gold eyeliner around my hazel eyes. He delicately adds a few natural looking touches, nothing too showy too my surprise. My prep team goes on and on at how lovely I look, how stunningly natural and pretty. They are interrupted by a gruff voice ordering them to leave. From the darkened doorway emerges who I assume is my stylist, holding a dress bag.
"Hello. I am Vinear, your stylist. First of all, let me congratulate you on this opportunity. I will do my best to make you look like a winner. Let's get started," Vinear says. I am surprised at his unusual silence, the opposite of my prep team. I guess he's tired of making children look good before sending them to their deaths. Vinear is very tall and muscular with a short black ponytail. Very understated for a Capitol stylist indeed.
He helps me dress in a dark brown under dress with thin straps that ends just below my knees. He then covers my shoulders with a heavy golden collar that gives the illusion of being made out of golden feathers. Wings to match the feathers on my chest adorn the golden hat. Vinear adds golden sandals that intertwine up to my knees. He finally allows me to look in the mirror. I catch the smile cross his face when I see what he has transformed me into. I look like the ancient humans from our history books at school; of course I can't remember their names because I failed history the year we learned about them. I look powerful, deadly, and recognizable. I turn to face Vinear.
"Thank you so much," I say. "You're a genius! I can't thank you enough." I surprise the both of us by reaching up to give him a hug. He gently pats my back and we silently walk to the holding room. I board District 2's chariot and await the arrival of Cato.
Cato's POV
I pay no attention whatsoever to my prep team, their appearances, or what they do to me. All I think about is my strategy for the Games. Of course being from District 2, Clove and I are expected to be in the Career pack. It'll be easy enough to pick off the other Careers at night when I have watch duty. The others will be a piece of cake. The boy from 11, Thresh, might put up a fight, but I'll fight that battle when the time comes. Once Clove and I are the only two left, I will have to kill myself quickly, before she can think ahead and figure out my next move. She won't like it, but I can't watch her die. Before I know it, I am prepped and ready for my stylist. She is a very short and colorful woman, almost brighter than Lucy. She doesn't stop talking for a single second as she dresses me in a brown tunic. My chest and abdomen are covered with a golden feathered vest. A heavy hat with wings completes the ensemble. I ignore her squeals of delight as she escorts me down to the chariots. When I enter, I see nothing but Clove. Her golden outfit matches mine, bringing out her hazel eyes and cute freckles. I sneak up behind her quietly and tickle her. She falls backwards laughing into my ready arms. I look around, still laughing, to find the other tributes staring at us. I guess Clove notices this too because she hastily jumps up and pushes me roughly.
"Don't touch me, you jerk. I told you if you do that again you're dead in the arena. Got it?' she barks. She winks at me before returning to her spot on the chariot. I put on my game face and laugh ruefully.
"You got it honey. There are plenty of other girls here to mess with," I sneer. I catch the District 12 girl, Kat-something, staring at me. Playing on my murderous attitude, I give her a devilish, cold grin. She quickly turns away. The two District 1 tributes walk over in their poofy pink costumes. I give Clove a shove to let her know of our company.
"What do you want?" I snap at the boy, Marvel. He stutters pathetically. Luckily the girl Glimmer speaks up for him.
"Our idiot mentor thinks we need an alliance. You two seem pretty tough," She says with a flirtatious smile at me. I look over to Clove to get her approval. She shrugs, which I'm going to take as a yes.
"Sure, but I don't think such a petite little beauty such as yourself should be playing with the big dogs," I say in a mocking tone. She laughs menacingly.
"Don't worry about me, handsome. I can handle anything you throw at me." She cautiously and playfully snakes her arm around my waist. Clove raises an eyebrow, but I play along with Glimmer. I can't let anyone catch on that I'm in love. Especially someone who will be right beside us until she's dead.
"Come on, Glimmer. They're about to start. See you guys tomorrow," Marvel says. As the pair of them walks away, Glimmer turns to give me one last girly wave. I return it with a wink and an air kiss. Clove doesn't look at me when I enter the chariot. I give her playful nudge, but she just looks at me out of the corner of her eyes.
"I'm sorry, but we have to win, Clove. If that means flirting, I'm going to do it. You know I don't mean it though," I try to tell her. She just hits me arm and winks at me. Oh, she's in business mode. I snicker at my own dumbness, which brings a smile to her lips. Suddenly, my stylists and Clove's appear to apply the last touch ups to our outfits. The opening ceremonies are about to begin.
Clove's POV
I can't believe he seriously thought I was mad at him. He is so funny…and cute. I guess we'll have to get used to each other's Game side. We had to do that at the academy too. You just learn to see through it and play along.
The Capitol anthem bursts from behind the gigantic double doors that slowly begin to open. Our new allies' chariot rolls out and onto the City Circle, greeting by a swooning crowd. Suddenly, our chariot lurches forward, pulling us into the excitement of the opening ceremonies.