Author's Note: Thank you so much for the reviews and follows! We've finally gotten to the actual games and when I say I'm hype I mean IM HYPE.

Disclaimer: I didn't write the Hunger Games. Wouldn't be here if I did!

Chapter 6

Katniss POV

My heart sinks a little when I hear his name. Not that I wasn't expecting it, obviously I was, but it still hurts to see him walking up those stairs, his eyes so steady and determined. If he makes it out of the arena, he will be just as tortured with nightmares and expectations as the rest of us. And if he doesn't–I try not to think about that.

Peeta squeezes my hand as Effie starts to clap for victors, and I suddenly feel the urge to pull away from him. Gale is already going to go into the arena to die, the least I can do is not torture him with the image of Peeta and I–always attached by a hand or arm. But it's what the Capitol viewers will expect–it's what keeps us alive–so I force myself to squeeze back. To not cry. To stay strong for the Hawthornes.

We are shoved into tinted cars and brought to the train station. Gale and Gertrude will have an hour to say their goodbyes, but in the meantime we are shoved onto the Capitol train and told to "get settled" by an attendant. As if we aren't used to them by now.

"Isn't this so exciting?" Effie is not quite as perky as usual–perhaps she actually feels bad that I am probably about to witness my cousin die–but she is still bouncing off the walls compared to the rest of us.

"What's exciting?" Peeta asks.

"Your first year of mentoring, of course," she says, as if it is the most obvious thing in the world.

Peeta and I look at each other. We're supposed to be excited to watch these people die?

"It's very nerve wracking, that's for sure," Peeta says when the silence stretches on.

"That's to be expected," Effie nods. "But hopefully Haymitch will be around to help you out."

Haymitch. The guy who disappeared as soon as we boarded to find a splash of alcohol. He's sure to be drunk the entire time, now that he doesn't have to take care of any tributes. I hear Peeta give an unconvinced snort beside me, and know he's thinking the same thing.

"Come on, Katniss. Let's go wash up before Gale and Gertrude get here."

I agree, mostly because the thought of standing here with my positive, clueless escort makes me sick to my stomach, but I find it relaxing to be able to strip down and take one of those soothing showers only the Capitol can provide. Once I'm out, I put on some soft sweats an attendant must have left for me and go to find our tributes.

They are sitting on a couch, staring at everything in the compartment in amazement. I almost smile, remembering how I felt the first time I got on this train a year ago. It feels like ages.

"Hey Catnip." Gale has stopped glancing at everything in the room and has pierced me with his gray Seam eyes.

"Hey," I say. I glance at Gertrude, and she gives me a wary look. Perhaps she thinks I will intentionally murder her so Gale can win. I wouldn't put it beneath me, to bring Gale home, but Peeta would never let me. Peeta. Where is he?

"Has Peeta come out from the shower yet?"

"Haven't seen him," Gale says, sounding a bit grumpy. What? Is he really mad I don't want to have my first conversation with these two as tributes and mentors without my partner? If so, he's going to have to suck it up. I need Peeta with me for these games.

"He came out of the shower fifteen minutes ago and said he was going to paint before the tributes arrive," Effie says, her heels clicking as she walks by. "And Haymitch is in his room. Wasted."

"Thank you Effie," I say with a smile. I notice Gale glaring at her, and roll my eyes. It is just like Gale to judge these Capitol people, when we would probably be the same way if we were raised there.

Glancing at Gertrude, and then back at my best friend, I say, "I'm going to go get him and then we can chat."

"Okay," Gale says.

"Thank you, Katniss." Gertrude's voice is tight, as if she is still trying to hold back tears, but strong and determined. I can admire that about her.

It takes me barely two minutes to walk down the train to Peeta's painting studio, and when I walk in I'm struck again by the vividness of his paintings. A million different snapshots of the same thing—the Hunger Games. According to Peeta, it helps him to paint it, but I can't imagine why. It hurts me just to look at them.

He doesn't notice me when I walk in. He's so focused on his painting, he doesn't even blink as he paints lighter highlights onto an already green leaf. Again I find myself staring at his eyelashes, admiring their length, before I myself am blinking and coughing to get his attention.

He looks up, startled. "Katniss. Are they–are the tributes here?"

"Yeah. I didn't want to have our first official conversation without you."

He sets his paintbrush down and takes off his apron. "Then let's go."

We grab hands and walk down the hall, but just before we walk in he drops it and lets me lead us inside. As if he knows I wouldn't be comfortable with hand holding in front of Gale.

The two tributes are exactly where they were before. I don't think they've even adjusted at all. Effie sits in a chair opposite them rambling out scheduling for the week, but I doubt either of them are listening. At least, Gale definitely isn't. His eyes pop open when he sees Peeta and I, as if they were half closed before. I almost laugh. Gale has never had much appreciation for manners. Especially when it comes to anyone from the Capitol.

"Katniss! Peeta! Perfect!" Effie looks up from her papers. "You two also have a packed schedule. While these two are getting prepped tomorrow, you have a meeting—"

"Effie, I really appreciate everything you're doing but right now Katniss and I really need to speak to the tributes," Peeta says, as politely as possible.

She sniffs for a second, but recovers and gets up. "Of course. I'm not used to having two capable mentors instead of just grumpy old Haymitch around. Speak of, I better go check to see if he's still conscious."

"Probably not," I say, smiling. "No excuse to be anymore."

"Yes, well, you two are both still young. You still need your own mentor to teach you the ropes," she says, this time her disapproval being aimed at Haymitch.

"That we do," Peeta says, and she clicks and clacks her way down the hall. He turns back to Gale and Gertrude. "So."

"So," Gale says.

They look at each other for a second. Since the Quarter Quell was announced, they've been getting along as Peeta's been helping Gale with his wrestling and hand-to-hand combat. But apparently, all that has disappeared now that we're standing on Capitol property.

I clear my throat. "So I'm sure Effie has talked to you about prepping by now."

"Yes," Gertrude says, "What's the best way to go about that?"

"Listen to whatever they tell you to do," Peeta says. "Even if you don't like it."

"And you won't like it," I say, remembering the first time I got waxed for the cameras and shuddering. "But don't worry–you'll have Cinna and Portia for your stylists, and they are geniuses."

"Didn't they come up with the whole fire thing last year?" Gertrude asks.

"Yep," I say.

"No matter what, you're sure to look good in whatever they put you in," Peeta says. He steps back, as if planning to sit in the chair Effie sat in earlier, but at the same time I make the same motion and we stare at each other.

"You take it," he says kindly. "I can stand."

I shake my head. "You have a prosthetic leg."

"It doesn't bother me."

"Just take the chair."

He sighs and sits down, which is how I know he needed to sit down. I smile.

So does Gertrude. "You guys are really cute in person."

I freeze. Peeta freezes, and Gale freezes.

"Oh um thanks?" I ask after a couple seconds.

Gertrude blushes. "Sorry I guess you get that all the time. It's just–I've never seen you really interact. You're always with–"

She cuts herself off, looking at Gale.

"Yeah well don't worry about that. Peeta has promised to mentor you so there's no unfair favoritism. Not that I would try to–but it's probably better this way anyway. Peeta's way easier to get along with anyway," I say.

I can see her visibly relax at that. "Oh good, not that I was worried, but I guess I kind of was."

"How old are you?" Peeta asks.

"Twenty-two," she says. He nods.

Then there's an awkward pause as we all wonder what to say or do next. I look at Gale, he's been surprisingly quiet this entire interaction, and I wonder what he's thinking. I wonder if he's jealous that Gertrude thinks Peeta and I are cute together. I wonder if he's too busy fearing for his life to care.

This is going to be one hell of a ride.

Closing thoughts: I don't really do this at the bottom of fanfictions, but five pages? Y'all I think this is an improvement.

Mostly, I just want to ask y'all to PLEASE review if you have any ideas for District 12's costumes this year. I don't want to repeat the "Girl On Fire" thing but I don't want to do anything mundane like coal miners. So PLEASE give me some ideas. I'm begging.