Madge and Prim squeal with excitement as I try on my millionth dress. We've bought jeans, jackets, blouses, and dresses to fit the dress code Effie handed out. We've bought lounge wear, new make up, and the highest heels that I can walk in. If there's anyone who knows how to stretch money, it's a couple of broke girls. Madge gives us an aristocratic opinion since her family is practically white collared. .
These clothes will be for the first week of the competition. The cameras will be on us during the welcome session, writing sessions, behind the scenes, and one on one interviews. Most importantly, the cameras will be on us when we present our first song to the judges. If you're lucky to move past that, the show will shell out more money for you.
The salon was nice and stark white. Effie's warning was correct. My face was shaved in something they called dermaplaning. I got a facial with different types of acids and washes that smelled like fruit. My eyebrows were waxed and tinted. My hair was trimmed, which was much needed. They dyed and bleached my long hair to have a balayage, or whatever that is. In the end, the tips of my hair are lighter than it is even in the summer. My armpits and legs are painfully waxed. Thanks to my olive skin tone, I'm spared the tanning bed and spray tan machine.
Prim and Madge think there's a glow to me, but I think it's all the skin that's missing on me creating an illusion.
Prim and I have decided that she is old enough to stay home alone. "Most people my age are living in dorms, Katniss," she said while rolling her eyes. I guess she is right. Despite this, Madge agrees to frequently check in on her.
Sae is sad to see me leave my waitressing, bartending, and performing position, but she assures me that my job will always be here if I need it. Prim works there too and is more than happy to pick up my extra shifts.
Sea threw a little going away party for me on my last night at home. She made my favorite, Lamb Stew, and even splurged on balloons. Gale and his family brought me a cake. We spent the night singing karaoke and dancing.
The next morning comes too quickly, and the train moves too slowly. Haymitch sits across from me in a leather chair. He nurses a glass of bourbon and looks anywhere but at Thom and I. The ride is silent with the exception of Effie endless typing on her laptop. Thom silently scrolls through social media, and I pretend to read a book on my phone. But I can't focus on anything.
I've never been a confident person. My father died when I was twelve leaving us to get closer and closer to the poverty line each month. A few months later, Prim was diagnosed with neuroblastoma. I spent most of my time in the hospital or with Gale's family. There isn't time to keep up with the latest trends when your family is slowly slipping away.
My mother worked herself to death so she didn't have to face the truth of our situation or her depression. We needed money, and she did her best. She hardly ever left the hospital, where she worked as a nurse. I was always clean but under fed. I grew skinny. Too skinny.
I was teased for being small and skinny. I fell asleep in class and barely passed my classes. Most of the punchlines included my dead dad, my never present mother, my dying sister, and me who couldn't keep it together.
When I stopped being able to afford the school's lunch or to bring my own lunch, I slipped away from the cafeteria. That's when I found the music room. It wasn't occupied after the morning periods, and the teacher had already left for the day.
My father used to play guitar. He wasn't fantastic or anything, but he'd try to learn the chords to the songs we liked. I had just learned sheet music and started to learn guitar from him when he passed away. He had the most beautiful voice. When he sang, even the birds stopped to hear him.
Some say he passed that on to me.
I finished learning guitar on my own through YouTube videos. I even taught myself piano. I wrote songs in a journal that Prim had gotten me for my birthday the previous year. She'd help me fine tune them when I visited her at the hospital. She said it took her mind off the pain, and I was willing to do anything to help.
I get the feeling that someone is watching me, so I look up and meet Haymitch's bloodshot eyes. "What?" I ask.
"I knew your father," he says in a voice that sounds stone cold sober. I don't say anything, so he continues. "We went to school together. I wanted to work in the mines, but he encouraged me to join the band." He doesn't say it, but we both know what that means. If my father hadn't intervened, then Haymitch might not be alive today.
We continue to stare at each other. I don't know why he's told me this. The car around us is silent. He speaks first and last. "Make him proud."
The hotel room assigned to me is bigger than Prim and I's entire apartment. It has a kitchen, a waterfall shower, a walk-in closet, and a bed that is bigger and softer than any I've ever been in. Before dinner, we meet Effie in a conference room with tall windows and white walls. She goes over the basics of good posture and how to sit for an interview. She constantly tells me to smile more, but I am not a smiley person. I'd rather scowl at her from five feet away. Hotel room service is good. Prim and I facetime for hours about the trip and the room. Before I know it, I'm asleep.
The next morning, we're driven in a shiny black car to a studio somewhere in the city. Per the dress code sheet, I've dressed casually in a pair of jeans and a nice blouse. It's nice to have Thom with me. He reminds me of home and is just as lost as I am. We stumble into a large conference room and savor the final moments of not having a camera on us all the time.
Inside the room, there are 22 other contestants, or tributes as the show calls them, fighting for the prize. Thom and I sit at the table designated for District Twelve. There's two folders with our names on it. We aren't allowed to open it yet, so I take the time to glance around the room at the other tributes, especially the Careers. The Careers are districts 1, 2, and 4. They come from the richer and better trained areas of the nation.
District 1 is the show's favorite, and the people Effie sent us to the salon to try to become. Both tributes have flawless, tan skin and shimmering blonde hair. They are stick thin and look like they could become models. Their place card reads Marvel and Glimmer.
District 2 is a man with blonde hair and large biceps. I can see him being a favorite for the female audience. He chats enthusiastically with the girl from his district, and I can already tell that he thinks he has this competition won. The female tribute is tiny compared to the man beside her. She has black hair and beady eyes. Their place card identifies them as Cato and Clove.
District 3 looks like they have prepared some older tributes named Wiress and Beetee. The man with dark skin, a bald head, and circular glasses. The woman has pale skin and a bob haircut. They are consumed with their phones in their hands, but their mouths never stop moving in conversation with each other.
The tributes from District 4 are named Max and Annie. Max has an afro of dark orange curls. Annie has long brown hair and freckles that cover her nose and cheeks. They don't talk.
The tributes from District 5 are dressed in matching brown t-shirts, and it makes me wonder if it is planned or not. The girl, Fawn, reminds me more of a fox than a deer because of her facial features and vibrant red hair. The man, James, has dark hair and even darker eyes.
District 6 is an interesting pair named Otto and Ginee. Otto has a face full of pimples, and Ginee wears her blonde hair in two pigtails. She's dressed like a toddler despite being middle aged.
District 7 won last year. Johanna Mason is now one of the judges. The district's tributes are Blight and Lamina. Blight looks like he is in his forties and sports a mustache and beard. They suit him. Lamina is a fierce looking woman with bright blue hair.
The tributes from District 8 are Wolfe and Cecelia. Woof looks like he is approaching the status of senior citizen. Cecelia is not much younger. They chat with one another like they are old friends.
District 9 looks like the youngest competitors, possibly still teenagers. Plano has tan skin and a youthful face. He did not get the causal dress memo and is wearing a tux. Sheaf has freckles littering her entire face and curly red hair that reaches her shoulders.
District 10 produces two of the meanest looking tributes that I have ever seen on his show. Dalton has dark eyes with even darker circles under them. His eyebrows are fluffy and in a permanent v shape. Brandy isn't much better. Her scowl could rival mine.
The tributes from District 11 are named Thresh and Rue. Thresh is bigger than five of Rue put together. His hair is sharply cut, and his dark skin glows in the conference room lights. Rue is a tiny thing and no older than eighteen. Her dark skin and dark hair almost make it look like she could be Thresh's sister… if the size difference wasn't in the way.
Then, there's Thom and I from District 12. We've never met each other before, and it shows as we sit as far away as possible from each other. I imagine the other tributes think we are boring looking with our olive skin and dark hair. Neither of us are anything special.
The host of the show, Caesar Flickerman, enters the room. Everyone goes silent, and the meeting begins. We sign paper after paper. Waiver after waiver. Caesar explains that he will go his best to make us comfortable backstage, during the interviews, and on stage. He seems like a nice guy. Flamboyant, but nice.
Our first session will be recorded as it is not possible to fit each of our songs and interviews in a 2 hour long episode. The producers will edit what they need, and the episode will end with one tribute being eliminated.
By the time the meeting is over, I am exhausted. But I can't collapse on my comfortable bed just yet. Effie calls a meeting with Thom and I. We go over what we are going to wear. I have to explain how I am going to do my hair, and Effie gives both of us many, many pointers. She reminds us to be up early as tomorrow is a "big, big, big day!"
I'm the last tribute to perform, and I can't tell if I am thankful or hate it. The three judges sit at a panel in the front of the auditorium with pens in their hands. They announced that we would be going in order of the districts with the male tribute going first. When you're the next to perform, you meet backstage for your interview.
The judge's hardly introduced themselves, but they didn't have to. The first is Plutarch Heavensbee, the owner of Capitol Records and the creator of the show. He's a plump man with white hair despite not being that old. He laughs at all the jokes, even the ones that aren't funny. I have only ever heard nice things about him.
The second and sitting in the middle is Finnick Odair. Finnick was the youngest and first tribute to win Panem's Singing Competition at the age of eighteen, the youngest age you can enter at. He is a charmer, or at least that is what the talk shows and magazines call him. Finnick looks like a superstar with his bright, white teeth, tanned skin, and ripped muscles. He's very handsome, but he has a dirty sense of humor. I roll my eyes every time he makes a joke, but I see Glimmer and Clove swoon.
The final judge is Johanna Mason, last year's winner. Johanna has the voice of a rockstar and often sang songs in that genre. She is short but stocky with a bob haircut. Her face is always scowling, but her confidence won the competition. She just finished her Victory Tour, as they call it, and reported here to judge, although that is not a requirement.
Time passes too slowly. I text Prim with what she calls "spoilers," but she can't help it. She wants to know my competition without waiting a week to see it on television. Marvel sings about Springsteen, and Glimmer name drops Elton John in her chorus. Both have great singing voices, but their lyrics need some help. Cato and Clove both sing rap songs. Cato mentions Eminem while Clove mentions Nicki Minaj and Cardi B. I start to feel out of place. My song doesn't briefly mention a famous person. It says it over and over again.
Beetee sings about Steve Jobs and technology in a funky pop mix. The idea sounds horrible, but the product isn't so bad. It fits him. Wiress sings a repetitive song about a clock and time running out. The famous person she mentions is Peter Henlien. After a quick google search, I realized that he invented the clock. Both songs are odd like their songwriters.
Max sings about Mick Jagger in a song that could be a real hit if the lyrics were tweaked a bit more. Annie sings a country ballad about Johnny Cash and June Carter. James sings about scandalous presidents in a comedy piece while Fawn sings about nature. She mentions Steve Irwin in the bridge. It's fitting.
Otto sings about drunk nights with Jack Sparrow. Ginee sings a tribute to Whitney Huston. Blight sings about a time when Rock N Roll wasn't dead and names famous singers from that genre. Lemina sings about RuPaul. I cringe the entire time. How did she end up here? If I were a judge, she'd be the obvious choice to send home.
Wolfe sings about ACDC while Cecelia sings about raising her children like Martha Stewart… She leaves out the jail part. Plano sings about love in a style that reminds me of Justin Bieber, but he sings about a girl with a "booty like Destiny's Child." Sheaf is a pretty singer, but she is shy on the stage. She sings a song about how Lady Gaga became Lady Gaga.
Thresh raps almost as well as Drake and mentions him too. Rue sings a song dedicated to the book "And Still I Rise." It's beautiful and delicate like her. I don't get to hear Thom sing because I am backstage, but I've heard it once before. It's a good song with a good idea, but the lyrics need some work. My favorite line mentions John Lennon.
Backstage, I take a deep breath before my short introduction interview. My hands are sweating as I hold my brown guitar. I shouldn't have listened to Effie and wore heels because my feet are also sweating. But, she made a good point that they matched my emerald green sundress. My hair is half pulled back so my bangs aren't in my face, another tip from Effie. And the rest is curled, or at least in an attempt to be curled.
"My name is Katniss Everdeen," I say in a voice as fake as my smile. "I'm twenty-two years old and from the small town of Seam, Georgia."
Caesar Flickerman asks, "Katniss, tell us the story of how you got into songwriting."
I've told this story a million times before, but each time my throat still constricts. "My dad was the singer of the house, and when he tragically died the music left with him. A few months later, my younger sister, Prim, was diagnosed with cancer, and she asked me to sing to her. All throughout her treatment, we'd write songs together. She beat cancer, and I continued to write and perform."
Caesar has tears in his eyes when I'm done telling my story. "And the song you are singing tonight, did you write that with your sister?"
I smile as I remember writing the song. Prim was weak that day, but she wanted to hear a love song. "Yes, she's the first one to hear all of my songs. She's my biggest critic."
Caesar laughs at this and wishes me good luck. All I have to do is sing. No introductions and no feedback from the judges. Just sing. As I stepped onto the stage, I realized that I was the only one to not sing to track music.