"We're here in the Capitol," I repeated.
"Yeah, obviously," Iver replied coolly, though his eyes hinted a little interest in the Capitol, too. "Anything else you want to state the obvious about, Waters?"
I glared at him. "Why can't you be a bit friendlier once in a while, White?"
He shrugged, sipping his water. "Not a morning person," he stated simply. I gazed out of the window again, not even bothering to try to have a real conversation with him.
Slowly, the train stopped, and I stood up to get off, Iver following suit. As we stepped out of the train, we were flooded with cheers and stares and the such from the crowd.

"Stay back, stay back!" Miranda chirped, pushing the crowd back. "My goodness, it's like you two are celebrities!"

I surveyed the crowd and found cameramen perched in random places, taping our entrance intently. Was the whole of District Four watching us? I stood a little taller and jutted my chin out more, putting on a brave and calm face. Iver copied me, though I had no idea if he actually saw the recording camers or just trusted me for acting brave for a reason. I daresay, we made an excellent little show for everybody watching as we elegantly stepped down from the train and weaved our way into a building ahead. The crowd went wild, and billions of questions were asked. In fact, so many people were speaking at the same time that their voices blurred together.

"Miss Waters, how did you feel when you got picked for the very first Hunger Games?"

"Miss Waters, I heard that some of your family actually fought in the war--"

"Mr. White, I heard rumors that your mom died and your grandmother beat you--"

"Miss Waters, is it true that your brother was bombed?"

At the mention of Michael, my eyes blurred, but I fought to keep back the tears. I couldn't cry. I would be clarified as a weak target, and then everybody would go for me.

I princess-walked steadily to the door, Iver keeping pace besides me.

"You will have stylists awaiting you through these doors who will help you gain sponsors during the Games, and they will prepare you for the ceremony," Miranda trilled, thrusting the doors open excitedly.

Before I could ask how sponsors helped you in the Hunger Games or what kind of ceremony she was going on about was like, I got flooded with crazy-looking people.

"Oh, you actually have hair, my young lady!" a woman with golden hair and sparkly purple tattoos going down her arms with a spray-painted tan tutted.

"Luna Waters, hmm? Is it true that we are decorating the fruitful--or may I say fish-full--District Four?" a short-stocky lady squealed. She had a purple mowhawk and black gauges in her ears. She also had black pull-on sleeves and had a shiny gold lip piercing. "One of the richest districts!" she declared as well.

A man swooped in, tugging my arm and scowling at it. He had ice-blue hair that was fluffed up and was the only pale stylist, and he also had sharp green eyes and pink--pink!--pants. "Yes, Blanche, there is quite a bit of hair," he told Goldilocks disbelievingly, who's name must've been Blanche.

The golden-haired lady--Blanche--scanned me, her eyes narrowed. "Yes, we must give her a good shaving, Enzo... maybe even a waxing," she mused. She glanced at the purple-haired lady. "Lilith? Any ideas?"

Blanche, Enzo, and Lilith... my stylists, everybody.

Lilith smiled and cupped my cheek affectionately. "This one's a beauty," she purred. "A good waxing and a wash... definitely needs to get rid of that fish smell everybody in District Four seems to always have on them." She wrinkled her nose. "But yes, Dmitri will like this one."

"Who's Dmitri?" I finally spoke as they hustled me into a separate room, away from Iver and Miranda.

"Your lead stylist, of course!" Blanche exclaimed so girlishly that Miranda Trinket would've been deeply ashamed.

"How come he isn't here?" I inquired as they sat me down on a bed.

"Because we have to prepare you for him, our darling Dmitri!" Enzo, the male one, giggled, pulling my ear affectionately. I slapped his hand away stubbornly, but he only grinned in response.

"So, Luna," Lilith chatted distractedly, smoothing another wax paper strip on my arm, "how do you feel participating in the very first Hunger Games?"

"Amazing," I lied, wincing as she yanked the strip off, leaving a smooth patch of skin in its place.

Honestly, I was terrified of what the Capitol was going to do to me. They killed my brother, and now they were going to send me to a war zone. I didn't prepare for this at all.

Well, the only things that were really useful going for me was catching fish, knowing how to use nets and tridents and spears, knowing how to craft fish hooks and even know how to kill fish with knives that can just as easily kill people.

So maybe I had a bit of unintentional training. But when my friends heard about the Games, they all agreed to train for it privately, even though it was recently stated illegal. "If I'm picked, I would definitely win, and bring glory to District Four!" my catlike friend Amanda told me and my friends, her eyes shining with her daydream.

Then how come no one volunteered for me?

My memory was cut short by yet another wax strip being ripped off. I gritted my teeth and hissed under my breath. I swear, Lilith tore fifty layers of my skin off with that wax.

"Yeah, yeah," Lilith stated absentmindedly, smoothing another strip. "It may hurt now, but wait until it will all pay off for the better."

"Okay," I promised obediently. Lilith was my favorite stylist, and I think she likes me too.

"I've been styling Capitol people all my life, so when I got picked to style the very first Hunger Games tributes, you can't even imagine how happy and proud I felt," she explained as she scrubbed my skin till it shone pink. "Me, out of all the stylists!"

I smiled. It was cute, seeing people chatter on about how they're so honored to style and assist tributes in the Games. Unbeknownst to them, they were helping innocent people to unnecessary death. And for what? For the Capitol to brutally remind the districts who's in charge, and what happens when you disobey them.

Before I realized anything, my stylists wrapped a robe around me and pushed me in front of a man.

"I think you're officially ready to meet Dmitri."