Chapter Ten

I step onto the stage after Webb, the boy from Three. As soon as I take the first step, I feel the anxiety rise within me. It's ready to eat me alive. It's a monster, and that's all it wants. Anxiety wants me dead.

But I push it down as I wave to the Capitolians filling the City Circle. It's exploding with light even though the sky above us is darkening. I smile and wave until I reach my seat next to Webb, where I sit how Eudora had instructed me. When the pair from Twelve finally stumbles onto the stage and take their seats, Ceaser Flickerman –the frightening man that has hosted the Games for about forty years and hasn't changed in the least- bounces onto the stage themed this year in pale pink.

He graciously welcomes the audience to this year's tributes. He warms up the crowd momentarily before getting right down to it. His first interview is with Gem. She's less exposed than I thought she would be. I'm sure I'm the most revealing one here. Gem is glowing the entire time. She's fierce yet breathtaking. Everyone loves her and her purple gown.

Ceaser and Ceaser joke about their names for a moment, well, attempt is really a better word. Ceaser Flickerman doesn't get District 1 Ceaser to crack a smile but once before he goes into his vicious, killing-machine mode.

Valarie is innocent and fierce. Rory is strong but shy. Three is sad. Macen, the girl, can barely get sentences out. Webb is promising.

I'm next. Capri Covell is being called. I see Finnick as I'm making my way towards Ceaser Flickerman. He gives me an approving nod, and I wave to crowd, sending them in an uproar of hoots and hollers. Ceaser takes my hand and kisses my knuckles.

"What a pleasure to finally meet you Miss Covell," Ceaser smiles at me.

"You too, Ceaser. I've been watching you my entire life and you seem to only get younger," I flatter him, instantly switching on the charm. I see a thumb pointing up from the corner of my eye. It must be Finn.

"Oh, please," he blushes, "you're just flattering me. You're the real star here. Or should I say mermaid? Your stylist has done a phenomenal job with this outfit."

I gush about the dress and say how wonderful it is, complimenting Plato along the way.

"Now, let's get down and dirty if you don't mind," Ceaser leans in. This is it. This is about Sara. "Now, tell us about that reaping."

I'm not dating Henry. I'm not dating Henry. But I am dating Henry. I am. No. I have to do this to come home to him. Complete confidence. I can't see him, but I know Finn is on the edge of his seat. This is the crux. If I go along with it, I'm a frontrunner. If I don't, who knows? Sympathy. Finn never mentioned it, but that's what I'm going for right now.

"She's a family friend. She was attacked by a shark last year when she was swimming in the ocean. I couldn't let her go into the arena," I look down and twiddle with my dress. I look up to the Capitolians filling the audience, "she's like a sister to me."

They're crying. They're actually crying. Ceaser is wiping his eyes with a pale pink handkerchief. "That is so moving, am I right folks?" Claps resound from the audience. I smile the first genuine smile in a while because for the first time since entering the Capitol I feel genuine and real. I don't feel like a drone or a tool in their Games.

I feel a tear slip from my eye. Ceaser hurriedly hands me his handkerchief and the audience "aww"s in sympathy with me.

"Okay, I'm done with the crying for today, aren't you?" I nod eagerly and then smile. He's so lighthearted and fun. He makes you forget what you're going into. He puts his handkerchief back into his pocket. "Now tell us about that ten. What are your secrets, Miss Covell?"

"Now, now, Ceaser, I don't think I'm allowed to talk about my training session. Am I?" I run my finger along my bottom lip, which I've parted from my top. It was something Eudora showed me. It was supposed to be sexy, but I'm not too sure.

I hear a "no" shouted from the balcony that contains the gamemakers. They don't want me giving future tributes any ideas about the stunt I pulled. Ceaser avoids the speedbump in the interview and asks me what I'm talented at.

"Well, I grew up a fisherman's daughter. So other than a rotten vocabulary," I have to pause because the crowd is laughing. I don't understand why they think I'm so funny. "I grew up tossing around tridents and making nets and running along the beach."

Ceaser chats for a moment longer before he's interrupted by the buzzer. My time is up. He shouts my name to the crowd once more. They are still in uproar long after I'm seated. Sitting the way Eudora instructed me, I glance to Finn, who gives me a nod and a short smile. Good.

Mason goes next. He's great. He pulls innocent and talented in the most flawless manner. He talks about his family back in Four. He's the oldest of five kids, all of whom are girls. He wants to win so that he can give them everything they deserve. The other districts follow. 5, 6, 7, 8, 9, 10, 11, 12. Then we're dismissed from the stage at the tune of the anthem.

We go back to our floors. I made a point to talk to Ceaser, Valarie, Gem, and Rory before Mason and I go up to our floor. We all take the same elevator. Not that it really mattered. Ceaser and Gem were the first stop. Valarie and Rory were next. Somehow, when we get up to the fourth floor, Mags, Willa, Plato, and Eudora are awaiting our arrival. Finnick's not there and I wonder if he had business to attend to in the Capitol. Probably.

Dinner is practically a celebration. Finnick walks in as we're heading to the living room to watch the replay of the interviews. He wears an angry expression and doesn't sit with the rest of us, but heads to the kitchen. No one questions him. We all know he was with some high-end Capitol citizen, who would pay to be with him. I suddenly realize why his expression was angry. He's not angry at us. He's angry at the Capitol. He's angry at himself for going along with it. I wonder why he doesn't just quit, but I'm sure I won't understand.

All the training yesterday worked, I suppose. I look . . . sexy. I'm dazzling, stunning, fierce, and vulnerable all in one three-minute interview.

After all the tribute interviews have been replayed, the anthem fills the room then silence. Tonight is our last night. Tomorrow at dawn, Mason and I will be awakened and taken to the arena. The Games won't start til ten because the Capitolians tend to arise late. Tonight will be the last time we'll see Finnick, Mags, and Eudora. Willa and Plato will awaken us and take Mason and I respectively to the very spot where we'll be placed in the arena.

Mags, Finnick, and Eudora will leave here tonight and go to the Games headquarters. Hopefully, they'll be signing off on sponsor gifts and when to give them to us in the arena.

Eudora has tears in her eyes as she places her hands on my face. She wishes me the best of luck. "You really are the best tribute going out there tomorrow," she whispers in my ear as she hugs me close. She kisses me on the cheek then heads over to Mason.

Mags gives me a hug and promises to do the best she can at keeping me safe. Finnick bids Mason farewell and good luck. He tells us both, "Do what you're doing, and you'll have a fair chance." He doesn't say anything specifically to me as I turn to go to my room. Until his hand clutches my wrist.

"You can't win, Starfish." It's not a challenge. It's a plea.

"I have to, Finn." He drops my wrist, and I walk down the hallway to my room. I want to tear off Plato's creation, but I can't. I simply slip it off before going to the shower and scrubbing off all the paint and taking out all the pearl pins and the starfish clip from my hair. I feel ridiculous. Painted up for war.

I laugh. I'm not sure why, but I laugh as the shower runs and shoots lilac scents at me. Laughing seems to make it better, so I keep going. I don't know what I'm laughing at. Myself, I suppose. When I step out and the dryers dry me to perfection, I simply fall into the satin sheets of my bed. Naked and exposed. It feels nice, so I stay that way.

I wrap myself in the sheets and try to turn my mind off. I need sleep while I can still get it. I need sleep.

I awake to Plato over me. He's handing me a simple white dress like I'd wear back in Four. I know that it's just to get me from point A, being the Training Center, to point B, being the arena. It's just me and Plato on the ride to the roof where a hovercraft is waiting. A ladder takes me up first. A lady tells me to be still as she puts a tracker in my arm. When the needle is out of my arm, Plato is beside me.

I sit near the window with my legs hugged to my chest. The view from here is beautiful. That is until the windows go dark. I suppose we're nearing the arena. When the hovercraft comes to a stop, Plato and I go back down the ladder. This time down into the catacombs underneath the arena. We follow instructions from the lady who had given me my tracker to go into my Stockyard, or the "Launch Room" as the Capitol liked to call it. This is the last place I'll see before going into the arena. A white room with white tables and a transparent tube.

I'll be the only tribute to ever use this room. The arenas are preserved after the Games. Capitolians often visit the site of their favorite Games for vacations.

I eat a large breakfast. Enough to be full, but not too much as to not be able to run to the cornucopia without being slaughtered. I then shower and brush my teeth. A box arrives as Plato is braiding my hair around my head. It's my clothing for the arena. Plato doesn't even know what it looks like. It's sent from the Capitol. The stylists know nothing about it other than what they see when they open the box. The clothes are designed to best accompany our time in the arena.

Plato helps me dress in the undergarments before pulling out a grey suit. Not a formal suit. A skin-tight suit. That accompanied with the boots he pulls out next make my eyes light up. "It's water." It's got to be. The gamemakers hadn't used water in over a decade. It's got to be it.

He senses my joy, but stays silent as he helps me into the suit, the socks and the skin-tight, waterproof boots. I thought he was finished, but he pulls out my necklace next.

My necklace. I had forgotten about it, and I instantly feel guilty.

"It's your district token, right?" I nod, skill hitting myself for not remembering it. "Don't batter yourself too much, Capri. I took it a few days ago and sent it through the review board. They have to review any token taken into the arena to make sure it can't be used as a weapon." Relief fills me. I hadn't forgotten it because it wasn't there. He clips it around my neck. "Now make sure it all fits right. If it doesn't, the Capitol will send people in to fix it."

I walk in a circle, and then speed up to a jog, and then a full-on sprint. That feels fine. I swing my arms around like I'm throwing a trident. Nothing's irritating me. I do some odd body movements that could be called stretches. I learned them in physical education a few years ago in school. Or at least some form of them.

"Everything feels fine," I tell him, and then sit down.

Plato sits next to me. "Then all we can do is wait for the call." Plato doesn't ask if I'm nervous. I think he can just sense it. He clasps my hands in his. We sit in silence until a female voice instructs us that it is time for launch. Confidence. Plato leads me to the tube with one of my hands still clasped in his. "You said it yourself. Water. You're from Four. You can win." He kisses my forehead lightly, and I step into the tube. As soon as my weight is on it, the platform rises.

I'm in darkness momentarily before I'm blinded by the sun and the smell of sea water greets my nose. Home.

Claudius Templesmith announces, "Ladies and gentlemen, let the Sixty-seventh Hunger Games begin."

Sixty seconds.

A/N: Once again, I hope you all are enjoying this story. Thank you to everyone who commented, favorite, and followed since the last update.

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