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the worst part of this whole experience is getting every inch of hair stripped off of my body. it's the most painful thing i've ever felt and that's coming from someone who almost starved to death. when my father lost his job, we barely made it by but he never let me sign up for tesserae and yet, i was still reaped. at least now i know he won't feel that guilt of me signing up for the tesserae.

i don't know what they're doing to kit but i can only hope that it's just as painful. i'd hate to think that he's getting off easy just because he's not a girl.  they scrub my body with a gritty foam that has removed not only dirt but at least three layers of skin, leaving it sore and tingling and intensely vulnerable.

my stylist is even more outrageous than vivian bloom. she's a very tall woman, with eyelashes that are so long they cover her tattooed green eyebrows. her skin is a shade of blue, matching her blue outfit. "helloooo, myyy dearrr," she drags out the end of her words. "myy nameee iss envieee."

it takes twice as long for her to get a sentence out than if she were to talk normal, but nothing about this woman is normal. "my name is davina, davina hallows."

her eyes graze up and down my body. "you'ree smalll buttt i thinkk i cannn workk withhh thatt."

after what feels like hours, my stylist is done. anxious and puffy ... that's how i was feeling right now. puffy because the dress was huge, but beautiful. anxious because the last time i wore a dress, was the day of the reaping. so yeah, i am having some flashback, i just need to remind herself that this is not the reaping.

"gorgeouss myy dearrr!" envie says as she repositions the hem of my black dress. i have to admit, i'm not hating the outfit. it's flashy but not as ugly as most outfits district 12 tributes are forced to wear. "blackk likeee coalll."

for the opening ceremonies, you're supposed to wear something that suggests your district's principal industry. district 11, agriculture. district 4, fishing. district 3, factories. the bodice of the dress has tiny red gems and when i move even the slightest, they shine like they're on fire.

my hair is curled and pinned back, and all i want to do is take it down and cover my face with it. i'm almost relieved when kit shows up, happy to see a familiar face, even if he wants to kill me. he's dressed in a black suit and red glitter in his hair.

we're whisked down to the bottom level of the remake center, which is essentially a gigantic stable. the opening ceremonies are about to start. pairs of tributes are being loaded into chariots pulled by teams of four horses. ours are coal black.

our stylists direct us into the chariot and carefully arrange our body positions. envie pays extra attention to the hem of my dress, making sure it doesn't trail behind the chariot.

i stare at the horses in front of me, admiring how gorgeous they are and how badly i want to touch them when kit leans closer to me, his mouth by my ear. "how is it that you can make any outfit look normal?"

"because i'm normal," i say.

"not even in the slightest," he says back and before i have time to think about what he means by that, the chariot begins to move. i lose my balance and would have fallen off if kit hadn't grabbed my waist to steady me.

the opening music begins. it's easy to hear, blasted around the capitol. massive doors slide open revealing the crowd-lined streets. the ride lasts about twenty minutes and ends up at the city circle, where they will welcome us, play the anthem, and escort us into the training center, which will be our home/prison until the games.

we have a few minutes before we reach the opening because our chariot is the last one, so i ask kit the question that has been weighing on my mind since the day i became a tribute. "why did you volunteer for isaac? you're 18, you could've made it through all those years and never have to come here. you were so close to leaving all of this behind. why did you do it, kit?"

if kit hadn't volunteered for isaac, he would be here next to me right now and i would've been completely broken. "i was bored," he answers with a shrug, but it's so forced that it looks fake.

"i know that's not true," my voice comes out sadder than i expect, practically begging him to tell me the truth but he doesn't say anything. "look, i know i'm going to die in the arena, and this may seem like a stupid thing to be talking about right now but i just want to know why."

"what do you want me to say, davina?" he snaps, suddenly pissed off. "i volunteered for your sorry excuse of a boyfriend because of some deep meaning? i told you the truth. i was bored."

"and you're not going to die in that arena," he says, refusing to look at me.

"only one comes out, remember?" i repeat what he told me on the train. "i've accepted it and when the option presents itself, i'll choose to turn it off."

his jaw tightened. "davina-"

the sound of the crowd cheering interrupts him as we finally exit the building.

one time when i was sitting on my house' porch and reading a book, i dozed off and fell to the ground, landing on my back. it was as if the impact had knocked every wisp of air from my lungs, and i lay there struggling to inhale, to exhale, to do anything.

that's how i feel now, trying to remember how to breathe, unable to speak, totally stunned as i take in the giant masses of capital people. i hold onto the bar of the chariot so tightly my hands turn white. kit looks just as relaxed and unbothered as he always does.

the twelve chariots fill the loop of the city circle. on the buildings that surround the circle, every window is packed with the most prestigious citizens of the capitol. our horses pull our chariot right up to president snow's mansion, and we come to a halt. the music ends with a flourish.

the president, a small, thin man with paper-white hair, gives the official welcome from a balcony above us. when the national anthem plays, they do make an effort to do a quick cut around to each pair of tributes. i stare up at the huge screen, seeing a capture of me and kit but he's not looking at the screens or the cameras, he's looking at me.

i pull my gaze off the screen and look at him, his gaze holding mine. in that moment, it's as if the loud music and the screams of the citizens dull to a faint buzz. my heart rate starts to slow and i no longer feel panicked.

i don't even realize we're in the training centre until we're engulfed by the prep teams. a man in a matching outfit with envie helps me down off the chariot. i trip over the hem of my dress and land into kit's arms.

"knew you'd trip eventually," he said. "kept an eye out."

i draw back, stepping out of his arms and together we wait in silence for our escort to find us.

*

AN:

i always update at night lol but yay! a long chapter! i want to remind you guys to please vote, it really helps out this story. thank you!