Chapter 5
Kitty and Onyx rush into the room, arguing.
"She's twelve!" says Kitty.
"Then it'll get a reaction!" Onyx insists.
Pinty and I stand.
I say, "About time! Don't you know we're supp-"
Onyx grabs me – literally picks me up with both hands – and speeds into another room.
Kitty follows hastily, dragging Pinty by the hand.
"Clothes off." Kitty orders.
I comply without hesitation.
Pinty grumbles, "Man's gonna stab out my other eye in a second."
Onyx says, "Pinty, why is your hoodie still on? Strip."
"Nuh-uh. Man's twelve innit. Give me my outfit and a changing room. But man's not wearin' some posh-twat dress though."
"There's no time!" Kitty yells.
Onyx lunges forward and tries to wrestle Pinty out of her clothes.
"Fine, cuz!" Pinty snaps. Then she adds, "Pervs."
As soon as Pinty and I are stark naked – bar an eyepatch - the stylists descend on us.
They dip feather dusters in a bucket of what looks like ash, coating us with it all over.
"Our prep teams cleaned us just so you could cover us in more soot?" I exclaim.
"This is state-of-the-art, fancy-dress, cosmetic coal-dust." Explains Kitty, "From Target. It's completely different."
"Oh, that's alright then." I say.
Within minutes, Pinty and I are covered from head to toe in coal dust.
"You're tripping if you think man's going on a chariot like this." Says Pinty.
"Hang on, we're not done yet." Says Onyx, "Here."
She puts two yellow hardhats with torches attached onto our heads.
The stylists take a step back. Onyx looks satisfied. Kitty, less so.
"It will certainly make a statement." Says Onyx.
"Are we actually allowed to do this?" asks Kitty.
"Our job is to make people remember them. They won't be able to burn the- image from their minds."
"This is your plan?" I say, "To present us to the world naked, covered in coal dust?"
Pinty growls, "Obviously Kitty had another plan. They ran out of time, innit." She glares at Onyx.
"Well there's no way the audience can't love it." I smile, confidently.
"Bloody Hell…" Pinty sinks her forehead into her palm.
With that, we are ushered into a huge room filled with chariots, horses and people in spectacular costumes.
Effie and Haymitch are both talking at us, but I'm too excited to listen. They help us onto our chariot.
We are surrounded by other tributes. Our competitors. Although it's hard to think of them like that when they're all dressed to the nines, like us.
People bustle about. Tributes climb upon their chariots and receive last-minute peptalks from their mentors.
Over half of them are staring at our chariot, mouths agape.
They already fear me.
I think the costume choice makes sense. We are supposed to represent our district in the ceremony, after all.
Pinty just looks done with the whole thing. I suppose it works out better for me than for her. She's right – she's twelve; she has nothing to show off, unlike me.
I sigh, blissfully.
"By the end of tonight, everybody is going to want to kiss me, kill me or be me."
Through his haze of alcohol, Haymitch looks at me as though he wants to ship me off in a straight-jacket.
"Good line." Effie says, "Just not appropriate in this context."
I clarify, "The 'kill me' part is because they'll be jealous."
Huge doors open and the first chariot rolls out, carrying Sugar and Salto from District One. Their stylists have done a spectacular job, dressing them as preppy school-children for sympathy.
That's the way to play it if you aren't strong – emphasise your attractiveness. Well played, One.
The Capitol anthem plays as the audience cheers. The sound is extraordinary. It fills every inch of the stadium and I feel the bass through my feet.
District Two is next. I missed the Reaping for Two because of Elspeth, that klutz.
The male looks tall and muscular –certainly a career. His muscles bulge through his tight, black outfit as he rides along beneath the ravenous audience.
I don't know what to think of his district partner. She has unremarkable brown hair, tied in a braid, and wears a sleek, black jumpsuit, like the boy.
I also take notes of the tributes from Three and Four as they ride out.
I notice that the two from Three appear quite young – nonthreats.
District Four – the fishing district – offers a distant-looking blonde girl and a red-headed boy with freckles and ears that stick out. Both of them wear glistening cloaks made of fishing nets, and pointy fisherman hats.
I watch the other tributes as they take their turns displaying themselves to the Capitol.
The eleventh chariot trots out with Rubis and Anita.
Eleven. Agriculture.
They are dressed as corn.
As they draw out of reach of their mentors, Rubis bats his towering corn headpiece onto the ground.
"Too right!" I shout after him, "That looked ridiculous!"
He turns to me for a moment, a disgusted look on his face.
He's right; the giant yellow ear of corn did not add to his imposingness.
District Twelve is announced and I take Pinty's hand to show solidarity. She lurches away.
"Touch me again and man's gonna chin you up, you absolute perv."
I should teach her what that word actually means at some point, so she stops using it inappropriately.
We ride out into the stadium to thousands of expectant gazes.
I'm so overwhelmed that everything goes silent, as though the world slows down.
Then I hear a nervous cough from the audience and I realise that they've stopped cheering. Gradually, chatter, laughter and uncertain applause build up into a crescendo. They're so stunned they don't know how to react.
I wave to both sides of the stadium, basking in their shock. Any second now the cheering will resume.
One lone old man catcalls from the front row and he's quickly hushed. Pinty makes a rude gesture.
I try to pull her hand down.
"That's no way to get sponsors!" I hiss, "Just let them see you're with me and they'll love you."
We continue moving forward.
When we reach the end, I turn anxiously, worried that the audience didn't get a good enough view of me.
The other tributes keep sneaking concerned glances at us, as President Snow himself welcomes us to the Capitol from his presidential box.
Within what seems like minutes, the whole ceremony comes to a close. As our chariot exits, I turn around to make the most of the enchanted audience.
They can't stop staring.
We pull into a new room and dismount.
Pinty hurls her miner's hat across the room.
Around us, the other tributes dismount and follow their mentors away. All except two.
Izzie and Corvid – the two Goths from District Seven – are making their way towards us.
Their outfits are incredible works of engineering.
They are trees, which is to be expected of District Seven – lumber.
However, this year their stylists have taken the gothic aesthetic and run with it.
They are winter trees, black and haunted. Both wear extravagant black skirts made of folds and frills, silk, lace, leather, all coalescing into tentacles – no, roots - that fan out on the floor around them.
Izzie's skirt twists into a sleek bodice, embroidered with winter animals like wolves.
Corvid wears a shirt and tie, textured like black tree-bark.
Two leather jackets match the rest of their outfits. Branches twist around their arms and extend upwards from their shoulders. To complete the look, both wear extravagant headpieces with spindly offshoots, dusted with snow.
A model raven perches among Corvid's branches.
Corvid is the first to speak. I know they were picked as the male tribute, but everything about them screams nonbinary; from the suit and skirt to their androgynous hairstyle – one side shaved, the other long and covering their eye.
I have a friend on Discord who's nonbinary. Or, more like someone I like to tease. Corvid reminds me of them.
They say, "Your stylists are sadists."
I reply, "I like our outfits. Why wouldn't people want to see all this?"
"Right. You're a walking red flag. I'm done talking to you now."
Corvid turns to Izzie. Her blonde hair is fanned across the branches on her headpiece, dotted with black roses, as though she is some sort of tree-spirit. Her pale foundation and black lipstick make her look like a beautiful winter ghost.
Izzie has taken off her jacket and hands it to Pinty.
"I hope this helps." She says, "I can't believe they made you go out there like that; it's completely ridiculous."
"Damn right, fam." Says Pinty. She takes the jacket gratefully and shrugs it on. It reaches her mid-thigh.
Now self-conscious that I'm the only one left naked, I look to Corvid expectantly.
"Mate, don't take this the wrong way, but I don't want people seeing you in my jacket and associating you with me."
"What's the right way to take that?" I complain.
"Anywhere you want, so long as it's far away from me." They reply.
"Pft," I say, "use whatever excuse you want, Corvid; you know you want to see more."
"I know I want to bleach my eyes."
I swing my hips side to side, seductively.
"Ew! Gross!" Izzie says, "Put that thing away."
I take my hardhat off my head and hold it in front of my crotch. Now I feel like an idiot.
I say, "You know, the ancient gods couldn't show their true forms to mortals because they were too imposing."
"The Greek Gods also had sex with their siblings." Replies Izzie, "You're not helping yourself, Twelve."
Pinty sniggers.
She says, "You're not too bad for a couple of Goths, you know."
"Cheers." Says Corvid, "You're not bad for a roadman."
The Goths walk back to their mentors, leaving Pinty and I to find Haymitch and Effie.
The four of us stand in an awkward square until Haymitch grunts, "Coulda gone worse."
Effie says, "Well, there's no reason to dilly dally. Every second you stand here uncovered is another hundred dollars in therapy for me."
On the way, Haymitch chuckles.
"Silver lining: maybe some of those tributes will kill themselves before the games even start, after having to see that."
"What do you mean?" I ask.
He ignores me.
We travel to the Training Centre in an open-topped limousine, past raving crowds who press into the barriers on either side of the road.
I wave enthusiastically, standing up when the car slows enough for me to keep my balance. I am lit by the twinkling lights of incredible skyscrapers and neon signs.
Haymitch gives apologetic looks to the crowd and Effie waves and tries to draw their eyes to her. What an attention-hog.
Pinty reclines in the back seat. She looks like a Bond villain with her black leather jacket and eyepatch.
"Pinty?"
She doesn't hear me.
"Pinty? Pin-"
"What, cuz?"
Her one grey eye glares at me.
"I was just wondering, why do you wear that eyepatch all the time?"
"You mean how did I lose my eye?"
"But you haven't really lost it. You're just playing pirates, right?"
"No fam. Lost it fightin' Valkerie, innit. Man won though. You know, man always wins."
I catch on, ashamed it took me this long. She wants to wear the eyepatch to make her look tough. As one of the youngest tributes this year, she needs to look as intimidating as possible, even if that means lying.
We make it to the Training Centre. My stomach growls at the thought of the feast awaiting us upstairs.
As District Twelve, we get the penthouse on the top floor.
Effie approaches the stairwell and I say, "Are we seriously using the stairs?"
Everyone looks at me. Haymitch sneers.
"Surely you can't make it up all those in your heels? Here-" I take Effie by the shoulder and lead her to the lift, "I'll accompany you up."
The two of us ride up in the lift. It pulls to a stop and Effie mutters, "Lazy bitch."
The doors open and she strides out to meet the others.
Our quarters are acceptable.
I have my own room, although there's too much space between the bed and the minifridge for my liking.
I don't spend too much time there though, before I head to the dining area to eat with our mentors and stylists.
When I enter, Pinty is being restrained by Haymitch and Effie.
Onyx is pinned to a wall with a steak-knife protruding from her chest.
"Oh my God!" I cry.
Kitty stands in shock. Then she runs over to Onyx.
She pulls her away from the wall and cradles her in her lap.
"Onyx, stay with me. We're gonna get you help. Someone get a doctor!"
I can't move. My stylist, who was awake and complementing me a few hours ago, is bleeding out in front of me.
Her breathing is raspy and shallow, becoming more and more laboured.
Kitty says, "No. Onyx, please don't go! You're my best friend! I mean, you weren't a very good friend… and you were rubbish at your job… and you had crippling debt and a vanity problem and today you helped provide a load of child porn websites with new material… But you're from the Capitol! You can't die! Don't leave me with these assholes!"
Onyx takes one last, long breath, then lies still.
Kitty starts to cry.
Pinty wrenches herself free of Effie and Haymitch. Haymitch walks to a phone and makes a call, but I can't hear what he's saying over my disbelief.
"Pinty?! You killed my stylist?!" I shout, "Why mine? Why didn't you kill yours?"
"It was her bloody idea." Pinty growls, "She had it coming. Kitty had a normal outfit for me but no, that Capitol priss had to drag me down with you, innit."
It's then that Effie regains her senses.
" Capitol priss?! Where are your manners, child?! It is bad form to kill somebody and then speak ill of them."
"You wanna be next, cuz?" Pinty grabs a skewer from a roast hog on the banquet table.
Haymitch re-enters the scene, hands held up placatingly.
"Now I think it'd be best for all of us if we take our food to our rooms and don't see one another until the morning, ok? I've got a clean-up team on the way. It's all sorted. Let's all calm down and forget this ever happened."
I nod in agreement. I need to process my anger. Who is supposed to make my outfit for the interview? Kitty? She'll put me in fishnets and eyeliner!
With immense self-control, I reign in my anger and collect a plateful of food from the dining table before heading to my room. I hear the others do the same as Kitty sobs quietly.
The food is the best I've ever eaten – leagues better than Haymitch's 'cooking'. I wonder how he'll manage without a steady IV of white liquor pumping into him at all times.
Come to think of it, he's been sober most of the day. Maybe he really is making an effort for me.
Ha. As if.
It reaches about eleven pm and I decide to go to bed. There's a PS6 in my room, but I know if I start playing on it now, I won't get enough sleep before training tomorrow.
I try to sleep, but images of myself in skimpy, gothic outfits keep floating into my mind. I'm terrified of what is to come.
After five frustrating minutes, I hop out of bed and power on the PS6. It takes forever to log on, then I have to install Discord – honestly, who doesn't have Discord installed already?
Now I can't remember my Discord password and I have to go through that whole process.
Eventually, I sit back against my headboard and prepare for a calming game of Fortnight.
I'm really in the zone - only forty-nine kills away from my inevitable win – when I glance something out of the corner of my eye.
A presence in the open door.
A humanoid, with a furry head the size of a yoga-ball. A monster.
I scream and flick my bedside light on, chucking off my headset.
It's the Avox girl. Elspeth. She covers her ears with her hands.
"Don't scare me like that! Why didn't you say something?" I demand.
Elspeth enters the room, dragging a power cord with her.
"Answer me." I say.
Her hedge of hair rustles and Bickett pokes his snooty face out at the top.
"That'd be a little difficult, don'tya think?" he squeaks, "What with her having no tongue and all."
I glare at them both.
"What do you want?" I ask.
Elspeth takes the power cord to the wall opposite my bed. She unplugs my PS6.
"NO!" I cry, "I was winning!!!"
She plugs in her cord. It's attached to a vacuum cleaner.
"Why are you doing that now?"
Bickett replies, "We've been going up from floor one to twelve all day. They're big living quarters. My deepest apologies that this tongueless teenager and her guineapig weren't fast enough at vacuuming to do a whole training centre in a day."
All I can do is scowl while I try to work out if he's being sarcastic.
"Well isn't there another plug socket you can use?"
Elspeth shrugs.
"They're all in use." Says Bickett.
"Mine was in use!"
Elspeth looks questioningly at the PS6, screen now black.
I start, "Well obviously now it-"
The vacuum cleaner roars to life and drowns me out. Elspeth drags it around my bed, crashing into everything as she goes. All I can do is sit there until she finishes.
She catches the leg of my bedside table and the crystal lamp falls to the floor, smashing. Elspeth turns off the vacuum and heads for the door, assumedly to retrieve a dustpan and brush.
No wonder she takes so long vacuuming – she makes more mess than she clears up.
"No." I say, "My room is vacuumed. Please just leave and don't come back."
She cocks her head to one side.
Bickett says, "We could get executed if we leave a mess."
"I'll execute you if you don't let me sleep."
With a gulp, Elspeth and her demon rat drag the vacuum cleaner into the hall, leaving my room sprinkled with corkscrews of orange hair.
The door shuts behind them but can't close fully because of the cord running through it.
I lay back into my pillows.
VROOOOOOOOOM.
That god damn vacuum. If I weren't so tired, I'd strangle it's operator. Is this the anger Pinty felt before she murdered Onyx?
I toss and turn, to no avail.
Finally, after hours of torment, the roaring ceases.
I drift to sleep…
I awake, choking.
My mouth is filled with hair. My vision is orange. I cough and try to escape.
Two wide eyes turn towards me from the side of the bed.
Elspeth. On the floor, collecting the shattered lamp in a dustpan.
"You bumbling oaf!" I splutter.
"How about you don't sleep with your mouth open?" Bickett remarks.
I storm out of my room.