"Maze?"

A voice, laced with mild concern, cut through the darkness.

Maze blinked open her eyes. Beetee stood above her, looking down on her with a furrowed brow. She was laying on the couch. She didn't remember laying back down on the couch.

"Are you alright?" Beetee asked. The mild concern remained in his voice.

"Yeah. I think so."

Maze's entire body ached. The left side of her face especially stung from earlier.

She grimaced, the memories from earlier in the evening coming back to her. The recaps. Troy slapping her. Her running to this room and crying and then trying to escape.

Trying to escape. Oh. That must have failed.

Maze's gaze drifted upwards past Beetee. She could see her reflection in the glass of the window that now covered the ceiling. Someone — most likely Beetee — had closed it again.

"You tried to escape, didn't you?" Beetee asked, noticing her looking up at the window.

Maze shrugged, grimacing again as her shoulders ached. "Maybe."

"I'm afraid that's impossible." Beetee glanced up at the window. "All the large windows have a force field around them. If you just touch them with your hand, you get a small shock. But if you try to jump out them, like I'm assuming you did, you get briefly stunned."

He looked back down at Maze. "You're lucky you landed on the couch and didn't hit your head."

"I guess." Maybe if she had hit her head, she would have gotten severely injured or even died. Then she wouldn't have to participate in the Games.

"The force field around the window is a smaller, much weaker version of the force field surrounding the arena," Beetee continued. "Hitting the one in the arena would cause severe injury or death. Either way, hitting a force field with your entire body isn't pleasant."

Maze groaned. "You don't say."

Concern crossed Beetee's face. "I can get you a painkiller, if you want. I'll have to track down an Avox to retrieve it."

"Avox?" The word was vaguely familiar to Maze.

"Yes. Avox." Beetee gave Maze a look she could not read. "You've realized how the servants on this train never speak, right?"

"Yeah."

"It's because they physically can't. Their tongues have been cut out by the Capitol as punishment for various crimes. The Capitol keeps them as slaves." Beetee pushed his glasses up his nose. "I'm surprised that you've never been taught about them."

Maze sat up on the couch. Her head throbbed as she did so. "Now that you mention them, maybe I did learn this. Maybe in school sometime."

School. Maze had a mixed relationship with school. All of her teachers and peers agreed that she was brilliant at the electronic aspects of school. When it came to circuits and coding, she was at top of her class. They made sense to her, and she could use those skills in her hijinks. She wasn't half-bad at science and mathematics, either. Her teachers said that she could easily become a Researcher if she wanted. In District 3, Researchers were the ones who developed new technologies for the Capitol. They enjoyed more prestige and money than the average District 3 worker drone.

When it came to other classes, like English or History, and to her behavior at school in general, Maze was an absolute disaster. She always fidgeted and focused on other things during those classes, like the creation of more hijinks or something happening outside the classroom window. This, combined with her tendency to talk back and be snarky, drove her teachers mad. She was constantly in the principal's office or in detention for her behavior. Hell, the principal was probably cheering knowing that she wouldn't be coming back.

"One of the Avoxes actually found you," Beetee said. "The one who was serving you at dinner. They were going to bring you your cake from earlier to try and cheer you up. They found you stunned instead and came to get me."

The strange warmth in Maze's chest from earlier returned at Beetee's words.

Was this what it felt like to have people care about you?

For her entire life, nobody had really cared about Maze. Yes, people cared for her, like the community home volunteers who helped take care of her as a child. But nobody had ever cared about her. It was like Maze was invisible sometimes. People didn't see her or seem to notice her existence, other than people like Mrs. Tapp and her teachers, who only did so out of obligation. People only took notice of her when she did hijinks (now that Maze thought about it, perhaps the attention it gave her was part of why she did her hijinks).

Now that Maze was a tribute and thus pushed into the spotlight, people were taking notice of her for the first time. And people — especially Beetee — seemed to really see her and care about her for the first time ever.

It felt nice. Despite everything, it felt nice.

Beetee left the car for a few minutes and returned with a pill, a glass of water, and a container full of what looked like some type of white cream.

"For your pain." He handed Maze the pill and the glass of water. Maze put the pill in the mouth. It had a sickeningly sweet taste that made her nearly gag. She took a sip of water and swallowed it. The taste remained, and she took even more sips of water to wash it away.

Beetee showed her the container. "The Avox gave me this for your face. It'll help with the swelling and bruising."

He opened the container, before sticking his fingers in and scraping some of the cream out. He applied the cream to Maze's left cheek, rubbing it in with his fingers. The cream felt cool and refreshing against the angry marks Troy left on her cheek, numbing out any lingering pain.

The touching of her face made Maze blush involuntarily, unused to physical contact like that. It reminded her of the community home volunteers when they'd scrub and bathe her as a small child as she screamed and jerked around to avoid them. Beetee had a much gentler touch than the volunteers. Unlike the volunteers' touch, Maze didn't resist it.

Beetee withdrew his hand, before closing the container. "Does that feel better?"

Maze nodded. The Capitol pain pill worked quickly, quicker than any District 3 pill, and the ache in her body from hitting the force field had disappeared within minutes.

The exhaustion from that afternoon returned to Maze as the pain faded away. All she wanted to do now was sleep. Unlike earlier, she could go comatose for several hours.

Maybe it would turn out she was comatose this entire time. Perhaps District 3 and the Hunger Games were all just a terrible dream she was having while comatose. Perhaps she would eventually wake up in a world without them.

"You should go to bed," Beetee suggested. "You'll have a long day tomorrow. We'll reach the Capitol sometime in the morning and then you'll spend the remainder of the day being prepped for the chariot ride tomorrow night."

Maze nodded again. She didn't argue with that.

Beetee walked her back to her car, before bidding her goodnight and heading to his own.

Maze slipped on a pair of silk pajamas — the fanciest pajamas she'd ever worn — and for the second time that day, fell asleep on the large bed.


Breakfast the next morning was so tense one could slice it in the air with a knife. Nobody dared look at each other or say anything.

Overnight, the cream had healed the mark on Maze's cheek. Alt must have gotten a similar cream, because the mark on his cheek was gone as well. His acne also looked less severe.

The only person ignoring this tension was Philomena. She cheerfully chattered away like nothing had happened the previous night. No one responded back.

When Maze had woken up, mountains rose up around the train outside the windows. She had never seen mountains before, so she spent a good amount of time just looking out the window and admiring them before going to breakfast. Even during breakfast, she admired them as she ate. The mountains' presence suggested that they were getting close to the Capitol.

Breakfast was just as large as dinner from the previous night. This time, it was served community home-style, where different dishes were put out and one chose what they wanted on their plate. The quality and variety of food was much higher than the community home's. Maze ate fruits she had never eaten before, as well as fluffy, sweet pancakes and delicious meat dishes like bacon and sausage. She was stuffed by the time she finished.

Not long after breakfast concluded, the Capitol came into sight outside the windows. A city larger than District 3's Central City filled a valley next to a large lake with glass-like water. Colorful skyscrapers of varying architectural styles rose into the sky, a stark contrast from the gray and brown ones in Central City. Some of the skyscrapers reminded Maze of the various rock candies the candy store in downtown Central City sold.

As the train approached the city, Maze started to see people. They almost all looked and dressed even more ridiculously than Philomena, who was tame by Capitol standards. The sight of the train excited them, with several attempting to run alongside it. From the words of their ecstatic yells and shrieks, none of them knew which district the train belonged to. They must not have seen Maze in the window. The mystery seemed to excite them even more.

Eventually, the windows of the train went dark as Maze assumed it went into a tunnel somewhere.

"We're here!" Philomena announced cheerily.

The train emerged from the tunnel into an underground station. At the train platform, several Capitolites and several Avoxes waited.

Beetee materialized next to Maze. "I'll need your ring now."

Maze hesitated, before sliding it off her finger and handed it to him silently. She didn't know how she'd make it through the next few days without its comforting weight on her finger.

The train stuttered to a stop, and the door opened. Philomena walked with Maze and Alt onto the platform. Beetee disappeared. Troy was nowhere to be found.

A woman with lavender skin and a shaved head walked over to her. She wore an off-the-shoulder iridescent tunic with a belt and strapped sandals that reached to just below her knees. Her ears were surgically altered so that they had a pointy appearance.

"Miss Donahue? I'm Xenia. Part of your prep team. I'll be working along with my associates to make you all nice and pretty for the chariot parade this evening!"

Pretty. Maze wanted to roll her eyes. She didn't give a shit if she was pretty or not. She never did. Only vapid people like Cortana and the Capitol cared about that.

But in this world, pretty got sponsors. And sponsors could mean the difference between life and death for Maze. Maze decided it was best not to resist the people who wanted to make her pretty.

Xenia led Maze through a series of tunnels to a sterile room that smelled like rubbing alcohol. There, another woman, this one heavily tattooed with aqua-colored braids, and a man with long green hair in a ponytail and large creepy purple eyes greeted her.

"Welcome to the Remake Center," Xenia told her with a smile. "This is Glaucia—" She gestured to the woman, "—And this is Paris." She gestured to the man.

Glaucia and Paris came up to her, sizing her up and examining her. Maze squirmed, uncomfortable with the close examination.

Glaucia sniffed, wrinkling her nose. "When was the last time you bathed? No offense, but you smell."

"Um—" Maze had to stop and think about that. It had been at least two days. In the chaos of last night, she didn't have time to shower on the train. She probably did smell a bit.

Paris picked up a piece of Maze's hair between two of his fingers. "And who cuts your hair? It's so uneven!"

"I do," Maze replied. "I cut it with safety scissors whenever I feel like certain parts are getting too long."

"It's dry, too," Glaucia noted, also touching her hair. "They must not have good conditioner in District 3."

"I'm an orphan from a community home," Maze retorted. "You think we have good conditioner? Or conditioner at all?"

Paris clicked his tongue. "I had a feeling from your Reaping that you would be a feisty one."

"Oh? You're an orphan?" Xenia asked, pity in her voice. "You poor thing. No wonder you're dirty."

Maze huffed and bit her lip to prevent herself from saying unkind things.

The prep team began their work on her. They first undressed her, before scrutinizing her naked body. Maze's skin crawled.

"Not a lot of body hair, and the hair that's there is very light," Glaucia commented, running her hand along Maze's lower leg, examining the hair there. "That'll make things easier for us."

They then bathed her, soaking her in a tub full of unknown substances and scrubbing dirt off of her that Maze didn't know even existed. Her hair was washed and conditioned thoroughly. By the time they got her out of the tub, Maze felt like they had scrubbed her entire skin off. Her skin felt as raw and soft as a newborn baby's. When her hair dried from the bath, it was the lightest and softest it had ever been, floating around her jaw. Paris cut the split ends off.

For the next few hours, Xenia, Glaucia, and Paris transformed Maze. They cut and shaped her nails, scrubbed away calluses on her feet, and made the few pimples and acne scars she had vanish. They rubbed lotions on her that made the ashiness that plagued District 3's residents disappear. They brushed, flossed, and applied treatments to her teeth until they were pearly white. Lastly, they waxed and plucked some of her hair away, including her underarm hair and the stray hairs she had between her eyebrows.

"Your stylist is coming in to talk to you and give you a lunch break," Xenia said, putting some lotions back into a cabinet. "We will also be taking a lunch break. Then we'll be helping you get ready for the chariot parade."

Once things were cleaned up, the three left the room, leaving Maze alone in the prep room wearing just a thin robe.

A few minutes later, a young-looking woman, perhaps in her early twenties, walked into the room. With the exception of her hair, which was a lovely shade of violet, she looked like she could have passed as someone from the districts, with a simple outfit consisting of a black turtleneck and slacks.

"Hello, Maze," the woman greeted, giving Maze a kind smile. "I'm Harmonia, your stylist. It's nice to meet you."

She shook Maze's hand and then led her out of the prep room to another room. This room had a table with food on it, food that Maze gravitated towards. She had a big breakfast, but after the discomfort of being prepped for a few hours straight, she had somehow worked up an appetite.

Once Maze was settled with food, Harmonia began talking to her.

"This year, the head stylist wants everyone to look avant-garde for the chariot parade, so all the costumes will be experimental and new," Harmonia explained. "I'm sure you District 3 tributes are sick of wearing that same old green electronic pattern on your costumes. Ugh, Euthymius loved that design for District 3 tributes. I always thought it was hideous. Thank goodness he died last winter. I mean. Not good for his family and for everyone else, but good that no one from District 3 ever has to wear that pattern again."

Maze chuckled at that. Euthymius was the previous stylist for District 3. He had a penchant for putting the District 3 tributes in an outfit with the same green electronic-patterned fabric year after year. Sometimes, he changed it up by adding blinking lights, but that was rare. She had no idea he had died.

Harmonia smirked. "Don't tell anyone I said that. Anyways, I hope you are pleased to hear that you will not be wearing that fabric this year. I have something else planned. And I think it will look cool."

"Cool?" Maze asked, raising her newly shaped eyebrows. "I can get behind that."

"I thought you would. You seem like more of a cool girl than a pretty girl. At least that's the vibe I got from you from your Reaping." Harmonia smirked again. "Between you and me, I know a few people who could stand to have their curling irons break."

Maze decided she liked Harmonia after that comment.

Harmonia chuckled before continuing. "Your district partner could also benefit from looking cool."

Maze smirked. "Definitely. He's not a cool guy. At all."

"So, he'll need all the help he can get."

"Totally."

The two laughed together. It was a foreign feeling to Maze, laughing with someone. She usually enjoyed laughter alone, after successful hijinks. Never with other people.

And especially not with a Capitol citizen.

After Maze finished lunch, Harmonia sent her back to the prep room. Harmonia spoke with the prep team quietly for a few minutes, showing them a drawing that Maze couldn't make out. She left, and the prep team got to work on Maze's hair and makeup.

Paris left the room and returned with a container full of what looked like blue paste and a brush. He set the container down on the table by Maze's chair, before dipping the brush in the paste and beginning to paint the edges of Maze's hair with it. The hair turned electric blue.

"Are you dyeing my hair?" Maze asked.

Paris nodded. "Stylist's orders. It's temporary. It will wash out the next time you shower."

Paris dyed all the edges of Maze's hair blue. Her uneven haircut with its choppy layers made it look like lightning in her hair. The color also brought out her eyes.

After the hair dye dried, the team started to do her makeup. They applied eyeshadow in the same shade as the hair dye, as well as edgy black eyeliner and glossy, blue-tinged highlight to the tops of her cheekbones and brow bone, as well as her nose. The last thing they did was comb the blue paste out of her hair, leaving behind silky, smooth, blue hair.

Harmonia came back into the prep room, dragging a clothes rack on wheels behind her. The clothes rack had a single hanger holding a black garment bag on it. In her hand she held a black bag.

"Ready for your outfit, Maze?" She smiled at Maze, putting the bag down.

Maze nodded, jumping out of her chair.

Harmonia opened the bag and first withdrew a pair of underwear and tight black shorts that Maze eagerly put on. Being naked all day was weird.

Once Maze's bottom half was clothed, Harmonia zipped open the garment bag, revealing a dress.

The dress was sleeveless and had a high neckline, including a little strip of fabric that would wrap around Maze's neck. It was made out of a black, satiny material with electric blue lines arranged into squares.

Harmonia helped Maze put the dress on, zipping it up for her. The dress didn't have a waist, and it flowed in a single unbroken sheet to her mid thighs. The dress's material was surprisingly soft and light.

Once the dress was on, Harmonia reached into the bag again, pulling out matching fingerless gauntlets and a pair of boots that reached just below Maze's knees. The boots hugged Maze's feet and calves, but not in a way that was too uncomfortable.

"Pull the mirror over, Xenia!" Harmonia commanded. Xenia brought the floor-length mirror over to Maze, giving her the first glimpse at her full outfit.

Never in her wildest dreams could she imagine herself looking so was right — the outfit did look cool. The blue in her hair, combined with the blue of her outfit and makeup, made her blue eyes stand out and compliment her outfit. The black added a dramatic background to the blue.

Maze just stared at herself for a minute, eyes wide and speechless. She never knew she was capable of looking so good. She looked downright badass.

"Do you like it?" Harmonia asked.

"I love it," Maze breathed. She couldn't take her eyes off the cool girl in the mirror.

Glaucia spoke up. "Spin for us! Spin for us!"

Maze glanced at Harmonia, who gave her a nod. Maze began to spin, making the skirt billow out. It gave her a shape like that of a tubular flower, or like a strange cone.

The prep team clapped and cheered for Maze as she spun. For once that day, Maze didn't feel completely annoyed by them.

"Forgive me for saying this, but you look cute," Harmonia commented once Maze had stopped spinning.

Maze frowned, blushing. "Eh."

She wasn't cute. She knew that. In District 3, at the community home, cute got adopted. She had seen it many times. If she was cute, then maybe she would have been adopted. But she wasn't and now there she was.

However, in the last twenty-four hours, things had been turned topsy-turvy for Maze. Maybe in this new, strange reality she was in, she could be cute. Maybe such things were possible.

"Agreed!" Xenia said in her shrill Capitol accent. "So cute!"

"I'm not that cute," Maze mumbled, cheeks flaring under her makeup, but nobody paid her words any mind.

"We'll see what your escort and mentor have to say about that," Harmonia said, gesturing with her hand for Maze to follow her. Maze bid her prep team goodbye and followed Harmonia down the hall and to an elevator.

The elevator went up, opening in what appeared to be a large stable. The chariots and their horses stood in a line, ready to be filled with tributes. Speaking of the tributes, they all milled around in various places, talking to mentors, escorts, and stylists.

Harmonia was correct about the avant-garde theme (not that Maze knew what that word meant) — the costumes were unusual that year. District 1's tributes wore shiny jumpsuits and headdresses that appeared to be made out of pure quartz. District 4's tributes were draped in flowing fabric that mimicked ocean water.

However, not all the districts had good outfits. The District 10 tributes were scantily clad in leather bikinis, with the scary male from the Reaping wearing bull horns and having a septum piercing. Despite the ridiculous outfit, he still looked as unnerving as he did during the Reaping. The female tribute had smaller horns and a pink fabric udder attached to her via a belt, and her bikini had a black and white cow print.

The worst offender of all the outfits had to be District 12. The two tributes were naked and covered in black dust, except for their faces. Their genitals, thank the heavens, were covered in very thick clumps of this black dust, or perhaps thin fabric — Maze couldn't tell. She felt a sudden rush of gratitude towards Harmonia.

Harmonia located Beetee and made her way over to him along with Maze. The corners of his mouth turned up as he looked Maze up and down. "Wow. No green electronic pattern this year?"

"That fabric died with Euthymius," Harmonia answered.

"Ah. Good riddance."

Harmonia raised an amused eyebrow. "To the fabric or Euthymius?"

Beetee had a mischievous twinkle in his eye. "I refuse to answer that." He gave a nostalgic shake of his head. "Troy wore that fabric, I wore that fabric, and Wiress wore that fabric. You'd think if you had three Victors wearing the exact same fabric on their chariot outfit, you'd retire it."

He then looked back at Maze. Maze did a little spin for him so he could see all angles of the outfit.

He smiled approvingly. "It looks nice on you, Maze. The outfit does provoke an image of electronics and electricity to me."

"Don't you think it looks cool?" Maze asked.

"It looks very cool. Not that I know anything about what is cool, but I imagine that outfit would be considered cool."

Maze giggled at his nerdy response.

At that moment, Philomena, Troy, Alt, and a man that looked like a wolf sidled up to them. Maze assumed he was Alt's stylist. Alt himself wore a similar outfit to Maze, except that his was a sleeveless top that showed off his non-existent muscles and a pair of tight-fitting pants. His hair didn't get the dye treatment, but it was combed and had hairspray put into it. Most shocking of all, his acne was completely gone, replaced by smooth, dewy skin.

Harmonia squealed when she saw Philomena. "Philly!"

"Mony!"

The two women embraced, then began laughing.

"Do you two know each other?" Maze asked.

"Oh, yes." Harmonia pulled away from Philomena, smiling at Maze. "We're sisters! Philly's older, I'm younger. It was quite the coincidence that we got assigned the same district for our jobs."

Maze could definitely see the family resemblance. Neither of the women dressed outrageously, although Philomena still dressed up enough to look like a Capitolite. She could also hear the family resemblance — both women had a similar low voice with a Capitol accent and plenty of vocal fry.

Harmonia and Philomena chattered away. The sensation of being watched crawled down Maze's neck.

She turned her head and saw the District 12 female tribute, the one with the red hair streak, staring at her. She had her arms folded across her chest, covering her dust-covered breasts. The two of them established brief eye contact, before the girl glanced away.

Maze frowned. Weird. Hopefully the girl was just admiring her outfit and not marking her as a target. Or something like that.

An announcement came on overhead, announcing that the parade would be starting in ten minutes.

Maze blinked. It was time for the parade already. How long was she in the Remake Center for?

"Our chariot is up front," Philomena said, before starting to walk there. Her heels and the clopping of the horses' hooves sounded almost the same. The others, including Maze, followed her.

They passed District 7's chariot on the way up. Willow and Sorb from the Reaping stood next to it, listening to some instructions their mentors were giving them. Both of them wore an outfit made of pale green tulle and silk, Willow's a dress and Sorb's a tunic and pair of pants. Each of them wore a flower crown on their head and gossamer butterfly wings on their backs.

As Maze was passing them, Willow caught her eye and smiled.

Maze smiled back, out of pure instinct. Then, she walked on, and started doubting her actions.

Should she be smiling at fellow tributes? Should fellow tributes be smiling at her? They would be enemies in the arena. Smiles were dangerous. They put people at ease.

They reached District 3's chariot. This year, it matched their costumes: metallic black, with electric blue squares on it. The four horses attached to it were jet-black and massive. Maze had never seen a horse before. She wondered if they were all that large.

Maze and Alt ascended wheeled stairs that led up to the chariot. An Avox closed the chariot's gate behind them and rolled the stairs away.

Sudden panic overtook Maze as the gate closed. She had no idea what to do while in the chariot. Should she just stand there and look ahead? Or should she be doing something, like a certain pose?

Her right thumb grazed over her middle finger, only to find no ring. This made her heart hammer harder in her chest.

Frantic, her gaze found Beetee.

Somehow, without any words, he understood.

"Just smile and wave," he instructed. "You'll be fine. It'll be over before you know it."

Maze nodded. He gave her a reassuring smile and a thumbs-up. Maze tried to respond with a smile of her own, but she had the feeling it looked crooked and forced.

A minute later, the same upbeat song that opened the recaps blasted. Maze was certain everyone in the Capitol could hear it.

Claudius Templesmith's voice welcomed everyone to the opening ceremony of the 57th Hunger Games. The massive doors of the stable parted open to reveal crowd-lined avenues.

Districts 1 and 2's chariots went out first to the absolute adoration of the crowds. About thirty seconds after District 2's chariot went out, the District 3 chariot lurched forward. Maze grabbed the edge of the chariot to steady herself, feeling her heart pounding in her throat.

The chariot went through the stable doors and out into the street. Claudius' voice cut through the deafening roars of the crowd.

"District Threeeeee!"

The crowds lining the streets went wild. Maze followed Beetee's instructions and smiled and waved. Beside her, Alt did the same.

Maze had never felt so visible in her entire life. The Capitol citizens smiled and cheered as Maze rode by them. Maze kept her smile planted on her face and kept waving, attempting to make eye contact with people in the crowd.

She hated to admit it, but the positive attention felt nice.

She started with waving with two hands. The crowds became a little more enthusiastic at that.

Harmonia's words from earlier returned to her.

Forgive me for saying this, but you look cute.

Cute. Maze could be cute now. So she decided to be cute.

She made cute poses. She poked out her tongue and made victory signs with her fingers.

The cheers got louder. More cameras flashed in her direction.

Maze's smile became genuine. Her fear melted away.

She did more poses. She playfully winked. She made a heart with her hands. She even blew kisses at groups of Capitol kids who looked around her age.

They ate it up. They cheered even louder. Some even chanted her name, the way Sorb's friends back in District 7 had chanted his name at the Reaping.

"Maze! Maze! Maze!"

A girl trotted alongside the chariot, doing her best not to stumble in her platform heels.

"I love your hair, Maze!"

A sentence no one had ever spoken to her in her entire life.

Maze ate all the attention up. The Capitol citizens' cheers made her chest feel nice and warm and tingly. She hoped that Mrs. Tapp and Cortana were watching her from the community home. She hoped they were seething.

The chariot kept moving. The cameras kept flashing. The people kept cheering. Maze kept smiling, basking in it all like it was sunlight.

For a little bit, she managed to forget that the people cheering for her wanted to see her dead.