Chapter Five
I grit my teeth as another hot strip of fabric is yanked from my leg, successfully removing any hair follicle in sight. The woman doing the yanking puts all the used strips in a bin, saying in her stupid Capitol accent, "All done, sweetheart. With that anyway. Just a few more things and you'll be off to see Plato." Her name is Thisbe. She's the most normal one here. Or the most outrageous –next to me- by Capitol standards. Her hair is golden and done up on her head in a mass of curls. Her eyes are lined with gold and her arms are lined with golden tattoos.
I've been here for an hour, and I'm ready to take a nap. Instead, Vidal –a dark-skinned man with green hair and eyebrows done in curls at the end- comes up to my face and begins plucking out any stray hairs around my eyebrows and making them skinny as well as uniform with one another. Zadie –an olive skinned woman with pink hair, eyebrows, and lips while she has gold tattoos covering only her hands- trims the nails on my hands and feet into uniform.
Once Vidal and Zadie are finished plucking and trimming me, I'm instructed to take of the thin robe I've been allowed to wear off and on, and stand before a mirror while they do last inspections. It's strange looking in the mirror. I know that it's me standing there, but this girl is much cleaner and much more perfect (as well as fake) than the one that I know.
"Perfect!" Thisbe purrs, rolling her "r" in an almost feline way. "We'll go fetch Plato for you sweetheart!" In addition to rolling her "r" she also hisses upon pronouncing her "s" (not unlike a snake). It's not just Thisbe. It's everyone in the Capitol, and it's quite annoying. What's really annoying is how much my voice is different from theirs. I've never noticed it before today because I've never had the opportunity to. So, I spend my time in silence after my prep team has rushed from the room thinking about all the differences in our words and wondering how people would look at me if I started talking like that in Four. I giggle at the thought.
A few minutes later, the door opens to reveal a seemingly young man –you never really can tell age here in the Capitol by appearance- with hair a pale blue with a touch of grey near the front. His outfit is fairly normal. He's wearing black pants and jacket. Underneath is the only thing –other than his hair- Capitolian about it. It's a strange patterned blue and white shirt.
"Hello, Capri, my name is Plato, your stylist," his voice isn't as Capitolian as my prep team and Eudora. Just a twinge of the accent, and his voice has a normal intensity, varying greatly from how loud Capitolians are.
"Hello," I say, once again naked before a Capitolian.
He begins walking around my body, inspecting yet touching nothing. I've been naked in front of more people today than I think I have in my entire life. "You're breathtakingly gorgeous, Capri, you know that right?"
I feel my face heat up, and I have a futile attempt to hide my face by looking towards the ground. I guess he senses that I feel nervous, he hands me the robe and tells me to follow him out the door so that we can talk. The room where I had been plucked and prodded for an hour feels "much too like a laboratory" for him.
We sit on a pair of couches, both luxurious red in color. He puts a hand on my bare knee, "Capri, you are breathtaking. You were even before the Capitol got a hold of you, of course not so much to the people who live here." A smile appears on his face and I'm unsure of how to take it. "I want to take advantage of that." Oh god, he's gonna wrap me in a net isn't he?I would not put it past a Capitolian to dress me like that. And he's new. He needs to make an impression. Finnick was his first year styling for Four in the Games.
"Don't worry, I won't wrap you in a net," we both chuckle, "you are a very classic beauty, and that's what I'm going to show them." We talk for a while about my family. It's easy to talk to him, much like it is to talk to Finnick, yet I don't tell him the in depth of my story. He asks about Sara. I pause for a moment, remembering Finnick's words from the train Starfish, I'm not so sure I'd be saying that you volunteered for your boyfriend's sister. I tell Plato that it was a good family friend, which wasn't a lie, their family and mine were very close. I tell him that I knew she wouldn't make it through the arena, and that I had to save her life since I knew that I had the power to.
He smiles at me and leads me to another room where I am clothed for the opening ceremonies. He was right. I look breathtaking. The dress is a gorgeous sea blue ball gown that is strategically wrapped around my breasts and draped over my shoulders in the front, but there is hardly material on my back. About three quarters of the way down my back, the material begins again until it reaches the floor. With every step forward I take, the back of my dress ripples like waves.
My back is covered in pearls that have been stuck on with some kind of Capitol-formed adhesive. He pulled my hair up in a loose bun -with a few curled pieces staying around my face- and pinned a starfish in my hair as well.
Plato had done my makeup only to enhance my features. It's not covered in make up the way most Capitolian's faces are, and I appreciate him for that. "I want them to know who you are when you get in the arena. A lot of the female tributes will be covered in makeup and the sponsors won't know who to send their items too, but they'll recognize you," he had told me while he was putting the makeup on my face only moments ago.
He was going to give me a hug, but was then concerned about the pearls falling off, so the idea was tossed out. We meet up with little Mason –who is dressed in a blue tux, that has a starfish pinned on his left breast pocket, with a white shirt and a matching blue tie- and his stylist, a woman named Willa. We are whisked away to the bottom floor of the Remake Center.
Willa and Plato lead us to our chariot, which is pulled by four white horses. They assist us in getting into the chariot and arrange us as they please. The ceremonies will begin soon. I'm not sure what to say to Mason, so I take his hand and smile at him. He smiles back at me and squeezes my hand. He's nervous; his hands are sweating.
Suddenly, the opening music begins, and doors are swung open to reveal the crowded streets of the Capitol. The ride will last about twenty minutes. We're paraded around the city and end up in the City Circle, where we are welcomed to the Capitol. From there, they'll lead us back to the Training Center.
District 1 ride out first and the people of the Capitol cheer. They're always favorites with the Capitol. Then District 2 gets in place to go next. Then Three, then it's us. Mason looks up at me and says, "Finnick told me to tell you to keep your head up, smile, and wave at everyone." I nod and put on the best smile I can conjure, but keep his hand in mine because I'm just as nervous as he is. Plato mouths a "good luck" at me before our horses start making their way through the streets.
The crowd is in uproar. They are screaming out "District Four!" Every head is looking at us. I smile and wave at them. This only makes them louder. Plato was right about the makeup, we look beautiful but most certainly recognizable on the screens around the city. As I grow more comfortable, I blow a few kisses at them as well, this seems to drive them to scream louder, which I didn't think was possible. They are showering us in gifts that none of us will be able to keep. Flowers and top hats litter the street next to us as they scream our names. This gives me confidence. Confidence that I can do this. I don't have to be particularly good at anything as long as I have the people of the Capitol behind me. Who knows? Some of them might like me enough to sponsor me. But I know I am good. I know I can win as long as I have help.
Soon enough, we're being rounded into the City Circle. Our chariot stops before President Snow's mansion. The buildings surrounding the City Circle are surely filled with Capitolians, as every light in every last building is on. The music is triumphantly. President Snow gives us an official welcome to the Capitol from the balcony above us. During the speech, it cuts to each of our faces, and I make sure to have the most dazzling smile on my face when it cuts to me and Mason. I noticed that none of the other tributes are as breathtaking as we are. Most look absolutely absurd as they are covered in bits and bobs representing their district and covered completely in makeup. I don't even recognize some of them from their reapings. They look like completely different people.
His speech ends and it cuts back to the tributes one last time. The chariots round the circle once more as the anthem plays and we're taken into the Training Center. As soon as the doors shut behind District 12, we are engulfed by our prep teams –who are showering us with praise- and Willa and Plato help us off the chariot. I see Districts 1 and 2 smiling at us as they chat with one another.
Watching the Games growing up, I could never stomach the idea of the Careers. But I suppose I am one of them. I'll bring it up to Finnick and Mags during dinner tonight. I unclasp my hand from Mason's. I'd be surprised if we would be able to use them tomorrow, but we massage our hands anyway. Eudora finds us, oozing us with praises much as our teams had. She rounds us into the elevator once more and takes us up to the fourth floor. She doesn't stop talking on the elevator which, thankfully, is only a short ride. Finnick and Mags are there to greet us moments after we exit the elevator.
We're sent to our rooms for a while before we're supposed to meet to have dinner. I ask the brown-haired and grey-eyed avox to accompany me to my room, so she can take the pearls off my back before I shower. Once she was finished, she placed them in a bowl, gave me a smile, and I dismissed her.
I hadn't showered in the Capitol showers. These were even fancier than the ones on the train. There were hundreds more buttons in this shower regulating temperature, pressure, soaps, shampoos, scents, oils, and massaging sponges. These dryers are even better than the ones on the train because they detangle, part, and dry my hair for me in a mere instant.
When I step back into my room, there's not an obvious chest of drawers like there was on the train. Instead, there is an electronic panel where I program an outfit and a part of the wall opens up to give me the outfit I had programmed. I can command the windows to zoom in and out on parts of the Capitol upon command. I sit cross legged on the ground, entertained for hours by this until Eudora knocks at my door. She's calling me to dinner.
I'm the first one to the dining room, so I go stand on the balcony to get some fresh air and clear my head. I need mental preparation for dinner. Dinner only days before the Hunger Games aren't really about dinner at all. Dinner is about strategizing. I don't really know how long I'm out here, but a knock on the glass door from Plato alerts me that everyone's gathering for dinner. Although I'm not sure why, I'm glad the stylists will be here to have dinner with us instead of just me, Mason, Mags, Finnick, and Eudora.
The table is long and rectangular. Seven chairs are placed around the table: one at the head, one at the end, three on one side, and two on the other. Four of the seats have already been filled. Mags is at the end. On her left is Mason, sitting on the side with two chairs. Directly on her right sits Plato. Beside him is Willa. The spots for Eudora and Finnick are still empty, so I decide to sit next to Mason.
Finnick and Eudora arrive together. He's flirting incessantly with her. She is eating it up. I'm positive this is what she's been looking forward to all year. As she giggles in her stupid Capitol way, my stomach churns. Finnick sits at the head of the table, Eudora across from me. Inwardly, I groan, I hope they don't do this all throughout dinner or I might hurl.
A boy almost identical to the girl I had seen earlier silently offers me wine. I almost decline, but figure that there's no harm in it. My father never allowed me to have in back in District 4. While Finnick and Eudora flirt, Plato and Willa chat about dresses and suits, and Mags and Mason make small talk about his life in Four, I concentrate on my meal. Potato soup; varied greens with juicy, diced tomatoes; a beautiful arrangement of seafood containing crab, lobster, shrimp and a type of trout; noodles in a red sauce; various cheeses of various shapes and sizes, but all of them melt in your mouth. The avoxs keep platters and dishes full. Halfway through my meal, I switch to water because my head is feeling fuzzy.
I'm sure throughout the dinner, I was brought up, but I was far from caring. The platters are cleared and a cake is brought out. We all eat on the cake, and move to a room full of couches and a television to watch the recap of the opening ceremonies.
Finnick questions why Mason and I are holding hands. It's only when he mentions it that I see every other pair is about as far as they can be from each other. I reply saying that we weren't instructed to, but both of us were so nervous that the only thing we could hold onto was each other. He seems to ponder this for a moment before saying, "Alright, you two, off to bed. You need your rest, and we adults need to talk. Mags and I will talk with you in the morning about how you should play it." He has a smirk on his face, as if waiting for me to say something.
"Alright," I get up, Mason following me down the hallway and to our respective rooms. I know Finnick's right, but that doesn't mean that I'm able to go to sleep. I lie in the most comfortable and luxurious bed I've ever been in, pondering the Games and what will happen and how everyone will eventually die. Even if you win, who you were died in the arena. Once you're a Victor, you're a new person. You're no longer a child.
It irritates me to think about, so I search through the drawers until I find a pack of pencils and a small notebook. Then I pull on a jacket from the closet and stick my head out the door. I no longer hear the chatter of the adults, so I walk out and head up to the roof. I head to the part of the roof with the flowers. I need a distraction, and this is the perfect one.
A/N: I hope you all are enjoying this story. It seems to have gotten plenty of views, but not many follows or reviews. There is obviously something turning you away from the story, and I would love to know what it is. Please leave a review about what you do and don't like about what I'm writing so that I can get better. Thank you and have a lovely day!