In the morning, I am whisked off for training by Sadie and then Coira. Training passes uneventfully, but Coira promises the rest of the night won't. 

Does she see how that sentence doesn't make me any happier?

Apparently not, because then I'm brought into another room, this one identical to the one I was in when I first arrived in the Capitol--only a day ago. It feels like hours, and yet also a million years. 

The stylists look over me again, happy I haven't managed to do anything that undid their previous prepping. I'm told that tonight will be the interviews; tomorrow more training, and the day after, scoring.

After that, I will be put into the games along with twenty-three other children, and we will be instructed to kill each other. 

I shiver at the thought, again when my mind locks on to the fact that within a week, I will see a dead child, if not be one. Maybe I will even be the one who made a child that way.

But that is something I do promise myself: whatever happens, I will not kill. If I'm attacked in the middle of the woods with no way to run, I will...

Not fight back. Not try to live. Because I don't think I could live myself if I managed to end someone's life. 

My father couldn't live with himself, and look where it got him! My sister thought she could handle it, and then there she was, dead on the ground, lying a puddle of her own blood, being lifted gently into the sky by unnatural metal pincers. 

I will not end up like my father. And I will not end up like my sister, either. 

Thetis enters the room soon after the stylists leave, smiling. She looks me up and down again, scrutinizing the stylist's work carefully. 

"You'll be perfect," she says, clapping her hands together once again. "Okay. It's your interview, so you have a few choices."

She brings out a dress, under a black cover. "Only one dress, though. I'll give you choices on makeup and hair, but the dress is my specialty and you've gotta trust me to get it right."

She smiles again. Her smile is pretty, and reminds me of a teddy bear, bobbing in the infinite ocean. 

Thetis reveals the dress with an artful flick of her wrist. It's soft and silky, hugging my curves, revealing one of my arms, cut high up my left leg, a low neckline, with a corset top that looks tight. Pale blue fades to a darker shade, the color I imagine the lowest layers of the ocean as being.  

I gasp because it's gorgeous, not just because I know it is what Thetis wants to hear. 

"Can I try it on?" I ask, stepping forward in anticipation. Thetis laughs a hearty yet tinkling laugh, like a wind chime.

"Of course! It should fit you, though--your father gave me your measurements.'

I shrink at his mention. Until now I'd all but forgotten about him, but of course there he was. And he would be here again, most likely at the interview--it's not common a child of a victor is chosen for the games.

I hope they don't actually bring him in, though. Because I know it is entirely possible. A spectacle, that's all they want. And a father-daughter reunion before my inevitable death, that would be one for the ages. 

I brush away the slight wave of anxiety as I open my eyes, for once liking the girl staring at me through the mirror. The happiness lines everything else with a layer of gold, and I smile. 

Thetis does my makeup--brown eyeliner, light lipgloss, concealer covering my light acne and blush darkening my cheeks. Mascara lines my eyelashes, and I can tell that Thetis knows what she's doing.

With my request, she keeps my hair down, putting only the top part up in a fancy braid, blue, gold, and silver tinsel twined throughout.

When I glance to the mirror again, I look both like a girl from District One, pampered her whole life, and wholeheartedly myself. 

But that's not important--what is important is what the Capitol will think of me. And they will love this girl, her with perfect, airbrushed skin, shining hair, a breathtaking smile. 

My audience with Coira seems to come too soon. She's dressed in silver, her makeup matching, but she keeps tugging at the low-cut neckline of her dress and I can tell she's not used to it. I wonder if she's ever mentored before. If she hasn't, maybe it's freaking her out to be back here after so many years.

For a moment, I wonder about her games, but I then I begin to think about my own and quickly shoo the thought from my mind. There will be times to consider that; those times are not now.

"Okay," Coira says, "we've only got a few minutes, so let's make this quick. Daphne, me and Grayling have selected the perfect angle for you during the interviews: pretty, sexy, etcetera. You get it? Just act attractive and charming and you'll be good."

She releases a breath, and I wonder how long she's been holding it.

"Okay," I say. "So I blow kisses to the crowd, wink at random people, look sexy?"

Coira nods. "I'm sorry our conversation can't be longer. I know we already had this chat, so really just do what I told you before--love them all, even if you don't actually! Trust me, I'll work out great."

I nod. A bell rings above us, and Coira, who seemed to be standing on some sort of rising platform, floats into the ceiling.

I search the ground for my own rising platform, eventually finding a small me-sized circle cut into the floor, marked by fittingly blue tape. Faint voices sound ahead, and then I begin to rise.

Panic fills my chest, but I push it down with deep breaths. I can do this.

Bright lights blind me as the audience crawls into sight, and I realize that maybe I can't. 

the next chapter will be out in a couple days! I'm trying to make them last so I can consistently update and also have time to write : )

thank you so much for reading. I love youuuu <3