FRANKIE STOOD in front of the mirror, admiring the breathtaking costume that enveloped her. The skirt was a striking teal, a large slit that traveled down the side of her left leg, shimmering under the soft light as if it were made from the very waves of the ocean.

She wore a bikini on top, the cups designed like teal shells with diamonds patterned along the soft material. Around her bare stomach, a golden piece of jewellery wrapped itself around her skin and rested around the middle of her stomach. It matched the headpiece on her head, a golden crown that was wrapped around her forehead, decorated with shell charms.

On her feet, were knee-high teal boots. They were tight on her calves, and the material seemed to entwine around her skin like the pattern of waves. It looked as though a blue wave had washed over her legs, staining her skin with a gorgeous blue colour.

Frankie lifted her arms, revealing a net-like cape which flowed down and attached itself to the hip of her skirt. Her hair was waved in loose curls, with small braids plated around her hair. Her makeup was neutral, despite from the light blue eyeshadow and the glitter in the creases of her blue eyes.

"Wow," Was all she managed to say.

"Isn't it lovely?" Harlow complimented, his eyes bright and glistening, "This will certainly make a fabulous impression. Did they explain about trying to get sponsors?"

"Yeah," Frankie nodded, looking at him through the mirror doubtfully, "I've never been good at the friend thing, though."

"We'll see." Harlow mused, clapping his hands together in applause, "This costume will prove them otherwise."

The Tribute parade was a chance to make a first good impression to the Capitol, and it seemed that everybody was taking it very seriously. Francesca noticed some costumes which looked ridiculous, like the pair of District 7, who wore outfits that represented trees— she was glad that Harlow didn't dress them in fish costumes.

"Hi," Kipper greeted when he was escorted towards their carriage to meet with Francesca. His eyes widened, as he complimented, "Wow, you look great."

"More than great. Phenomenal." Harlow corrected, "You both do."

Frankie gave a smile to the boy, who was dressed in a similar outfit to herself. Though, his skirt was much shorter, almost like a towel for around his hips. And, instead of a bikini top, two pieces of teal cloth covered his chest slightly.

Francesca asked curiously, "Have you seen Finnick?"

"He's in the audience," Kipper nodded reassuringly, "Sat with the Mentors."

Frankie couldn't help but notice that they were the only Tributes whose costumes were revealing, as nobody else had this much skin showing. Kipper must've noticed this too, because he seemed to subconsciously hide his bare stomach with his arms subtly.

"Okay, the Parade is about to start." Harlow said eagerly, "Just stand up straight and keep your stomachs in." He beamed a smile, "You both look fabulous."

Each chariot was controlled by two black horses, pulling the Tributes along effortlessly as they were revealed to the audience. The horses' hooves thundered against the ground, creating a rhythm that matched the quickening heartbeats of the Tributes.

Kipper admired the scene, before turning towards the girl beside him, "Should we hold hands?"

"What?" Francesca pulled a face, snapping her head towards him quickly.

"Well, Finnick said about us being friends," Kipper suggested, "I think they'll like it."

Frankie hesitated before nodding, before the two Tributes joined hands tightly. They waved with their spare hands, acknowledging the audience as they cheered. As they passed, the crowd erupted into shouts, their excitement palpable. The people started throwing roses and their valuable items towards them— Kipper and Frankie smiled because, even if they were going to die in a few days, this moment seemed rather nice.

The chariots arrived to the open space at the end of the runway, gathering at their stations in front of President Snow. The suited man stood up at the podium, waving at the audience; his voice was loud and confidence,

"Welcome! Welcome." He announced, looking down upon them, "Tributes, we welcome you. We salute your courage and your sacrifice. And we wish you Happy Hunger Games. And may the odds be ever in your favour."

The crowd roared, and Frankie couldn't help but pull a face at how pathetic this all was. President Snow's face was coated in white hair, his face wrinkled and scared with old age, though he still followed the annual rules that were created years ago. Some systems had to change— the Hunger Games should've been cancelled a long time ago.

The Parade was over quickly, which made Francesca see no point in why they spent so long getting her ready. The chariots exited the stadium, and the Tributes were joined backstage by their teams.

"Wow!" Harlow exclaimed, strutting over the teenagers, "You were tremendous. Both of you! Absolutely wonderful."

Kipper and Frankie smiled in thanks, though the girl's eyes shifted towards towards a familiar figure in the distance. Finnick, who was walking towards them; he presented himself with an air of confidence, but his eyes softened when he spotted Frankie. Without hesitation, he pulled her into a warm embrace, his arms wrapping around her protectively.

Finnick nodded at them both, "Well done— that was great. You look great."

As they pulled apart, Finnick's gaze lingered on her costume, a momentary flicker of concern crossing his face. The fabric hugged her form closely, accentuating her features in a way that made him uneasy. He offered a smile, but his eyes betrayed a hint of worry, as if he were silently weighing the implications of how much her outfit revealed. Finnick knew all too well how President Snow viewed Tributes, often reducing them to bodies for the Capitol's entertainment. He wanted to reassure her, to remind her of her strength, but the unspoken tension hung in the air, a reminder of the harsh realities they faced. Finnick had faced them before.

"We are all anybody's going to be talking about!" Genevieve exclaimed excitedly, which was the first time that Frankie had seen her happy around her.

However, Francesca caught sight of the Career Tributes gathered a short distance away. Their laughter cut through the air like a sharp knife, and she instinctively zoned out of the conversation to try and listen to what they were whispering.

The Careers stood together, their confidence radiating like a shield. They were a striking contrast to her own nerves. Frankie squinted, trying to catch snippets of their conversation.

"Did you see their costumes?" One of them scoffed, tossing her hair over her shoulder. "What a joke. They think they can compete with us looking like that."

Another chimed in, a smirk on his face. "Yeah, they'll be easy targets. Just a couple of pretty faces."

Frankie's stomach twisted at their words, anger bubbling beneath the surface. She exchanged a glance with Kipper, who frowned, clearly picking up on the tension. Finnick's earlier look of worry resurfaced in her mind, but she refused to let it show.

"Hey, Lou," This voice was Finnick's, as he bought his sister back to reality. He frowned curiously, his head turning around to follow her eye line, meeting a stern look from the Careers. The older boy added in concern, "You okay?"

"They're talking about us." Frankie said, keeping her eyes on the Careers in the distance. She hardened her glare at them, and the tributes returned it with evil smirks.

Kipper looked at Frankie and then at the group of Careers in confusion, "Really?"

Francesca attempted to step forward, though Finnick blocked her pathway by standing in front of her. Her brother shook his head, speaking lowly and reminding her, "We're not doing this, Lou. Play the game."

Fuck the game, was what Frankie wanted to reply.

Frankie's glare was shooting into the Careers. They were looking at her like she was fresh meat; they were almost scheming what to do with her already, and the Games were days away. Frankie knew that she was never going to be safe when they were around. The look in their eyes were sinister.

"Lou." Finnick said again, "Let's go upstairs, alright? Lou— Francesca."

The girl scoffed, before standing down. She rolled her eyes at her brother, "Don't call me that."

"Then walk." Finnick sassed, gesturing to the pathway towards the elevators.

She scoffed, "Fine!"

Genevieve was quick to inform, as she guided the Tributes along beside her, "So, each of the districts get their own floor! Come along, come along."

The room that District 4 was staying in was luxurious and spacious. The walls were patterned with shimmering seashell mosaics, reminding Francesca of her home. Soft, dim lighting cast a warm glow over the space, creating an inviting atmosphere that felt almost deceptive.

Genevieve announced, "This is the living room! I know, I know."

In the center of the room, dark blue couches invited relaxation for the Tributes. A large window overlooked the sprawling Capitol skyline, the distant lights twinkling like stars, but Frankie found it hard to appreciate the view when she missed the simplicity of her home.

"Holy..." Kipper trailed off, unable to finish his sentence out of utter awe and admiration.

On a nearby table, an array of fruits and delicacies lay untouched, their vibrant colours catching Frankie's eyes immediately. Frankie glanced around, taking in her surroundings that felt foreign and unearned. It was a beautiful prison, and while the room was designed to comfort, it did little to ease her racing heart as she prepared for the days ahead.

A prison, decorated with beauty to trick the weak minds of children. Though, Frankie wasn't a piece in their game.

a/n:
hey guys i hope you're enjoying this so far!! i can't wait until the arena!!!!