Trigger warnings: Manipulation, abuse of power (Cashmere)

"Welcome, my pink-feathered doves to your Capitol train!" Gwen Maple beams as Marvel and I are escorted onto the train. Cameras and microphones are thrust in our faces, and my mouth hurts from how long I've been holding into a smile. It's a relief when the train doors close behind us.

Cashmere and Gloss stand waiting for us. With their matching blond hair and blue eyes, there's no denying that they're brother and sister.

"Hello Marvel. Hello Glimmer," Cashmere smiles but her mouth is puckered slightly in distaste as if she's eaten something sour, "Glimmer, I will be your mentor, and Gloss will be Marvel's."

"We will do our best to help you win, but we need your 100% cooperation," Gloss says, "And that means doing everything we tell you. Is that clear?"

His voice sounds distant and robotic, as if he's said this many times before. But of course he has done. It's been eleven years since he's won. A decade of tributes who have been and gone.

Gwen leads us to our rooms, and Cashmere follows. After Marvel disappears into his room, Gwen opens the door and ushers me inside mine. It's large with a comfortable white bed and carpeted floor, with a massive wardrobe and another smaller room off to the right. I go to close the door, but then see that Gwen and Cashmere have followed me inside. There's a click as Gwen carefully shuts the door.

"What-"

"Undress," Cashmere says sharply.

"What?"

"We haven't got much time," She snaps, "Undress."

I gape at her, and she moves powerfully towards me and reaches over with a large hand for my dress. My mind goes blank. Suddenly, it's not Cashmere standing in front of me, but a man from seven years ago sneering at me in the bar, beer bottle in hand as he grabs me...

My hands grip Cashmere's arm before she can touch me, and I swing her onto the floor. She grunts with surprise and I feel her locking me legs with her own, and then I'm on the floor, her arm jammed against my throat.

Her eyes are emotionless as we stare at each other, panting for breath, but the smile that stretches across her face is shark-like.

"So you do have some fight in you." She release me and stands up, grabbing my arm to haul me up, "I won't ask you to undress, but we do need your measurements." She swings me towards Gwen who has a tape measurer at the ready, "That way Arion knows what they're working with."

She places her hands on my shoulders forcing me to stay still whilst Gwen measures my bust and height.

"Good," Cashmere says when it's done. She steers me towards the bed, "Now, sit. We need to discuss your angle."

"My angle?" I ask, as I'm pushed down to sit on the bed. Cashmere plonks herself down too closely next to me whilst Gwen hovers, somehow now holding a clipboard and a pen. Where does this woman store everything? In her wig?

"Yes. Your strategy in the Games and how we're going to market you to the Capitol."

She reaches for a strand of my hair and I freeze, watching as she turns it over with her fingers.

"Can you fight?" She asks, "Other than what you just did?"

"No," I admit, "Not well."

Cashmere frowns, "No weapon of choice?"

I shrug, and try and shift slightly away from her, "I can shoot...but it's passable at best."

Cashmere nods, and to my relief, she releases my hair, "Well it's a good thing you're somewhat pretty then." She turns to Gwen, "Romance angle, it is. We'll get the Capitol to fall in love with her."

"Sexy," Gwen murmurs, nodding and scribbling on her clipboard.

"Hold on-" I start.

"The Darling of District One? No..." Gwen doesn't seem to have heard me, tapping her clipboard with her pen in thought, "We'll use her name. The Jewel of District One?"

Cashmere smirks, "Perfect. Though of course, we'll need to explain why that girl who was Reaped glared at her."

"Jealousy?" Gwen shrugs, turning to me, "What was your relationship with her like, dear?"

Her pen hovers poised above the clipboard.

"Um. Complicated."

"Why did you volunteer?" Cashmere asks.

I twist the edge of my dress with my fingers, wishing they would just leave, "She was even worse than me. And some years ago we were friends..."

Gwen tuts, "No that won't do, dear. Too dull. Better to say that you were romantic rivals."

"Yes," Cashmere smirks, "The Jewel of District One who people can't help but fall in love with. But they get hurt in the process. She's destructive. A heartbreaker."

"But-"

"They'll love this, dear." Gwen urges, beaming at me.

"Sponsors will just fall into your lap," Cashmere says, "All you have to do is keep this up in the Games. If you can't fight, then find someone to do it for you. Someone who'll play along as a romantic sap."

"No one would want to do that!" I protest.

Cashmere smiles tightly, "Anyone can fight, girl. Well, almost anyone. But keeping the Capitol's attention fixed on you is an art, and not everyone can perform. We do this well and you'll be a valuable ally."

This is going too fast. Within a few minutes, they're already changing me. Rewriting me. I wish Sparkle were here. She'd keep me grounded, put things right.

But I'm going into the Games. If I want to get back to her and my family, don't I have to do everything I can to survive?

"So..." I swallow, "Who do I get to be my partner? Marvel?"

"No," Cashmere scoffs, "Absolutely not. I've never seen anyone so pathetic. No. Watch the Reapings and then decide. Ideally someone from 2 or 4, but there could be something...thrilling...about someone from an outlying district."

She stands, "Pass this all on to Arion," She tells Gwen, "They'll need as much time as possible."

Gwen smiles at me brightly, "Food will be in five minutes, dear. In the main car."

I watch them leave, feeling pieces of my identity fall around me.

A sexy heartbreaker. It's not a role I've played before, but I'm no stranger to wearing a mask. I take a breath, and smile, twisting away my insecurities into the most dazzling smile I can manage.

                                                                                     ***

Plates after plates of food are brought out to us by silence servants. First up, is soup. It's vegetable, like the kind my Ma makes, but less spicy and thick with cream. It sticks to my mouth and I have to swallow it down as Gloss decides to interrogate me and Marvel.

"Weapon of choice?" He asks.

"Spear!" Marvel grins enthusiastically.

"Bow and arrow," I smile.

Gloss glares at us both, "Not good at close combat then," Marvel's smile drops, "Disappointing."

"But there will be time for training in the arena," Cashmere notes.

Gloss shoots her a look, "Yeah. Three days. Not exactly time to learn new skills, is it?"

An awkward silence passes, filled with the slurping of soup.

"I like your wig, Gwen," I say. It's rainbow colours, and if that wasn't eye-catching enough, there are sparkles in it too.

"Oh thanks, dear." She smiles, "I buy them from a friend of mine. He makes wigs for all seasons and moods. This one I wear when I'm in a happy and sparkly mood."

She grins, and I see Gloss grimace into his soup.

"He sounds like a talented wig maker."

"Oh he is, dear! Everyone gets their wigs from him! And, of course, at this time of year, he is very popular!"

"For the Hunger Games festivities?"

"Oh yes, there are parties every day!" She leans in closer, daintily wiping her mouth with a handkerchief, "Especially so, for us Capitol escorts! On the day before the Interviews, we are invited to the President's Mansion to meet all the most influential people to discuss our tributes. It is all very exciting!"

Interesting.

The soups are taken away and are replaced with strange smelling and looking meat and vegetable dishes.

"What are your other weaknesses?" Gloss asks, just as I am reaching for a strange red thing wrapped in a pastry.

"Weaknesses?" Marvel looks genuinely confused, as if it's never occurred to him before that people have weaknesses.

Another awkward silence follows in which I catch Gloss shooting Cashmere a mystified look. She shrugs in response.

"Never mind," Gloss sighs.

"This party," I say to Gwen. She was hunched over staring at a potato on her plate, but hearing me, she brightens and looks up at me, "Is there a theme? I've heard parties usually have a theme."

"Oh they do, dear! You should see what sort of things we have! This year, it's a nature theme, so we are all going dressed as animals. I'm going as a hedgehog!"

"Oh," I try and fail to imagine Gwen as a hedgehog, "That's nice!"

"Isn't it?" She beams, "They're just the cutest!"

"I've heard they eat slugs," Gloss mutters. Cashmere elbows him, but Gwen doesn't appear to have noticed.

Next comes a massive chocolate cake. I'm full and feel sick just looking at it, but Gloss seems to have no trouble gorging himself on its' five levels. Thankfully, no more questions are asked.

Gwen claps her hands as the plates are taken away, "Shall we watch the Reapings?"

She leads us into a room with several sofas and a massive television, referring to it as the 'Lounge.' She gestures for us all to sit down, but I hesitate.

"Is there pen and paper on this train?"

Gwen looks surprised but nods, returning with her clipboard with a blank sheet of paper attached and a pencil.

"Thanks", I say, taking it from her.

The Reapings start. They usually play them live for the Capitol, but these are the recaps, which can be watched anytime.

First up is District One. I watch as Sapphire is called to the stage, and hear my scream as I volunteer. To my ears, I sound desperate, but I see what Cashmere meant when it seems that Sapphire and I glare at each other. Only I could have seen that pain in her eyes, and now I'm wondering if it was in fact a figment of my imagination. I watch my television self move confidently to the stage, smiling. Marvel is called and for a moment, I see my smile falter, but hopefully they'll be too busy watching Marvel to notice.

Next is District Two. A name- Victoria Gynes- is called. She is a muscular girl with short dark blond hair, and I shiver as I watch her stalk her way to the stage. She could kill me in a heartbeat.

But then someone volunteers, and I cross out the name on my list, and watch in surprise as a smaller girl with dark hair and dark eyes makes her way to the stage.

"What's your name?" The Capitol escort, a man wearing a fiery wig, asks.

"Clove Kentwell." She says it like it's a challenge.

Kentwell. Why does that name sound familiar? Then I remember the conversation the Peacekeepers had in the bar. She's the daughter of the Peacekeeper who was arrested.

I must make a sound because Marvel glances over to me, curious. I wave a hand, dismissive.

"Livius Kentwell." The escort calls.

On the stage, the girl's eyes widen in shock, and the crowd parts to reveal a small twelve year old boy, with similar dark hair. Her brother. No. No. They can't-

He takes five shaky steps towards the stage, and then: "I VOLUNTEER!"

The voice booms from out of the crowd as an older boy with blond hair pushes his way forwards. He transforms the movement into an easy swagger, and I can't help the relieved smile that falls onto my face.

"What's your name, dear?" The escort asks.

He smiles at the girl, who's staring at him.

"Cato," He grins, winking at the camera.

The two on the stage handshake, but hold each other's gazes far longer than necessary. And they disappear off into District 2's Justice Building.

Clove Kentwell and Cato. I write their names down onto my paper. I don't bother writing their weaknesses. It's already obvious: each other.

Next is District Three. Electra, a small teen who can't be older fourteen, climbs the stage. She keeps rubbing her wrist. A past injury maybe, or a soothing mechanism? The boy, Alvis, looks slightly older. He stands hunched, his eyes fixed on a piece of metal that he's fiddling with in his hands.

There's a scream as the girl from District Four, Marina, is called but no one steps forward to volunteer. She's well-built and muscular. There are cries though when the boy is called- Murdoch. He walks forward from where the younger kids stand, and as he approaches the stage, an older girl with the same curly brown hair breaks from her group and runs towards him. The Peacekeepers block her off, and the girl, Marina moves to the front of the stage and tries to calm her down. The words are too quiet to be picked up by the cameras or the microphone, but she seems to be pleading with her. When the two are called to go into the Justice Building, Marina and Murdoch don't handshake; they hug.

When the girl from District Five is called, no one in the crowd looks for her. She slips silently past them and is climbing the steps of the stage before the citizens of District Five realise who she is. Her steps are light and careful, every movement considered. Her name is Finch. The boy is called Ash. There are murmurs from the crowd as his name is drawn, and he stalks towards the stage, hands balled into fists. The two barely look at each other, except when forced to handshake, and the Peacekeepers pull them into the Justice Building.

The two from District Six, Railey and Jay, also seem intimidating. Though they look shocked, they both seem more confident with the other tributes. Railey reaches out for Jay's hand and he grips it, murmuring a few words to each other.

The girl from District Seven, Elm, is crying too much to make it to the stage and the Peacekeepers force her up. The boy, Sapling, has to disentangle himself from a boy's arm as he shuffles towards the stage. Again, the two barely look at each other. Little chance of an alliance there then.

Tasmin, from District Eight is a young teen who stares in shock as she's led up to the stage, her eyes wide and shifting nervously from the Capitol escort and the crowd. The boy, Flocchus, heads dazed to the stage, but once he steps foot on the wooden platform, he screams suddenly and tries to race down the steps. He's grabbed by the Peacekeepers and forced on up.

The District Nine tributes, Husk and Kernel glare at each other with such animosity I wonder if they're exes. Husk shoves Kernel hard as they head into the Justice Building and he stumbles into one of the Peacekeepers before being forced forward. Circe, the female tribute, and Talon, the male tribute from District Ten are both large and stocky. Talon limps forward to the stage, his eyes watching Circe carefully. Either a lover or already marking her out as someone to kill. Another pair to be wary of.

A twelve year old is Reaped from District Eleven- Rue, her name is. There is utter silence from the crowd as she is chosen, and the Capitol commentators burble over the top of it, saying that she might perhaps have hidden strengths. The boy, Thresh, is older and towers above her. I can't help but gasp when I see him. I catch Marvel's eye. He needs to die, I try to convey. Marvel responds with a thumbs up and a smile. I can't tell if he just didn't understand or is really excited to kill Thresh.

Another twelve year old is Reaped from District Twelve- a tiny girl called Primrose. But she barely makes a few steps before another figure bursts through the crowd, screaming her name and thrusting her behind her. There's a lump in my throat as I watch the girl mount the stage. Katniss Everdeen. Her sister.

But then the crowd does something strange. A few of them at first raise their hands in what seems to be some kind of salute, and then others join in. It's hard to tell what's happening because it quickly cuts to the commentators who start joking about District Twelve's customs, and then conveniently cuts back when the only victor from District Twelve drunkenly falls off the stage. The boy, Peeta, is Reaped without fanfare. He seems muscular too, though he hides it by hunching his shoulders.

I stare down at my sheet of paper. So many strengths. And not nearly enough weaknesses. Marvel stretches and yawns, as if he's just watched a performance or something, and then heads off to his room. I catch Cashmere's eye and she follows me to mine.

"Well?" She asks, as she closes the door with a click.

"It won't work," I say simply, "They're together."

Her brow furrows, "Who?"

"Cato and Clove. District Two," I add after it's clear the names don't mean anything to her, and I brandish my sheet of paper, "They're together. I can just tell. And Murdoch, the District Four boy is too young. And that just leaves Marina, the District Four girl and Thresh from District Eleven who both look like they could kill me on the spot."

"I fail to see the problem."

"What? I just said-"

"You think the District Two pair are dating," She smiles, "So do a love triangle. You're the temptress after all."

"Love triangle?" I repeat, "As in I flirt with both?"

Flirt with Clove? That could work...

"No," She says firmly, "Just Cato. I doubt that scrawny girl can even fight..."

"But-"

"I'll call Brutus right away," She says, turning towards the door and placing her hand on the handle, "Play into it the moment you see him. We want the Capitol and your fellow tributes convinced."

"But this isn't right!" I burst out.

She looks over her shoulder disdainfully at me, "Welcome to the Hunger Games."