CHAPTER 2

I haven’t ever been in front of a guy before. Never.

But here I am, stripping in front of my stylist, who is a MALE. A male with a ridiculous name.

I slip out of my remaining clothing- my underwear, and Hot circles me, looking me up and down.

I cross my arms over my chest automatically.

Hot finishes the circle, and gently pulls my arms away.

I’m burning, I know I am.

“It’s ok. Don’t be ashamed. I’m your stylist; I have to know your body. You’re beautiful. Pretty face and flawless body. You’ve been taking good care of it.” He brushes his fingers against my neck, and I have to force myself not to flinch. He doesn’t seem to notice my unease. Or he simply doesn’t care. “Silky skin.” He takes a lock of my hair and lets it slide through his fingers. The chestnut brow of my hair blends with his tanned skin perfectly.  I clench my teeth. ” Soft hair, too. There’s not much we need to do. Just some clothes and make up. Maybe a hair bleach.” He steps back and smiles once more. “We’ll be done in no time.”

“Can I dress now?’ I ask, anxious to cover myself up and trying not to think about my hair being bleached.

He gives me a small grin. “Why? You look fine.” My face heats up, and he laughs. “Yes, you can dress now.”

I grab the big fluffy white robe that’s been prepared for me, while he goes off somewhere. I only have enough time to tie my hair , when he comes back, carrying a big box.

“This is your costume,” he explains when he catches my questioning gaze.

I inahle deeply and take a tentative step towards him. “When did you have time to make this?”

His eyes twinkle as he opens the box and pulls out a… bundle of black net? “It didn’t take long to make. I ordered it made when I saw your reaping.”

“Is this fish net?”

He laughs. “No, but it looks like it, doesn’t it?”

I’m not going into that arena ! Wearing that fishnet wouldn’t actually cover anything.

He sees my horrified expression and the same lazy grin lights up his face again. “Your image is going to be y, obviously. y tributes pull in lots of sponsors.”

Well, yes, I know that. “That’s ok. But being is not ok.”

He throws the net at me, and I catch it. “Put it on. And trust me.”

Over the last few hors I have grown to like this guy. He was nice, funny, and he didn’t look at me like Rain or my parents did- like I was done for.

After the reaping ceremony, the tributes were taken to see their parents for one last time. When I came into the small dark room I saw that my parents were already there. Mom was crying; dad was pale. The looks on their faces said that they were already preparing for a funeral. When they finally managed to choke out a weak "hello', not much time was left for us to talk- my mother only had enough time to squeeze her favorite golden ring into my palm before the guards came and told them it was time to leave. I had spent most of my goodbye-time frozen to the spot, unable to say anything.

Then Rain came. I and Endrew were taken to the Game Headquarters, where we were showed our rooms. After that, we got separated to meet our stylists, who are supposed to prepare us for the opening ceremony this evening. Make-up, clothes, hair- everything seemed so pointless. I didn’t say a word. But then Hot came. He didn’t give me pitying looks, he never said he understood what I was going through (something that Rain couldn’t shut up about), so after an hour of him talking and me being silent, I opened up.

He made me feel like I did have a chance in all this. After all, two tributes will live this year. I can be one of them.

Hot clicks his tongue, and I’m pulled back to the real world. The fishnet is in front of me, and Hot tells me to put it on again.

After some more arguing, I’m defeated. Hot helps me pull the net over my head and it turns out the net’s sewn to form some sort of a ground-sweeping see-through dress. It also has a long split on the right side that goes up to my upper thigh.

I feel and look .

Hot leaves to somewhere, and my prep team, consisting of five funny Capitolians, who each have hair dyed in a different shade of red, bleach my hair and do my make-up. They keep talking and asking lots of silly questions and I find myself telling them about my life- just little unimportant things. Talking about those silly details calms me even more, and soon I am laughing with them over a cliché joke about the Games.

I can’t believe I’m laughing about the Games.

A few minutes after my make-up and hair, which is now a goldish shade of platinum blonde, are done, Hot comes back, carrying a gigantic box full of something red.

“500 roses. For you.” He sets down the box and looks at me. “We’re making you a dress of fresh roses. What can be ier than this?” He picks up a  scarlet rose, snaps the stem off and clips the bloom to the net I’m wearing. ”Roses -- beautiful, but dangerous. Just like you will be. Sponsors will rain gifts on you.” He smiles once more, and takes another rose. One by one, he fixes them to my dress. Soon my body’s covered in big beautiful flowers.

The aroma is so sweet I feel lightheaded. I catch a glimpse of myself in the mirror. The net disappears under full red blooms, and it looks like the roses are floating on my bare skin. Hot leaves my shoulders and arms exposed and the split shows a great deal of my legs. My hair fall on my back in a long messy waterfall of platinum, and I look sophisticated but wild, y but risky. I look stunning.

I swirl the ring on my finger as a team of specialists put some additional touches to my make-up. Smoky dark eyes stare back at me from the mirror. I look and feel different.

I look like someone who might have it in her heart to kill someone for survival.

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Fifty years ago the ceremony opened with a chariot ride. Every district had its own chariot and a line of twelve chariots, carrying 24 dolled-up tributes, went trough the city, announcing the start of the Games.

Fifty years ago one tribute jumped out of his chariot. The speed was so high, that another chariot couldn’t stop in time and went over the boy. He died instantly. The chariot ride was forbidden.

Now tributes have to walk the “path of Games”. It’s a long aisle with a bright red carpet and lots of flowers on each side. It leads to a huge stage where the tributes line up in front of the cheering crowd and smile for the cameras. This is the first opportunity to get sponsors. A lot of people choose their favorites during the opening ceremony-usually it’s those tributes, who pull off the strong or y image successfully. Blood and sell the best these days.

Hot and I wait in the back-stage. As the other tributes flow in, I start to feel nervous. Each one of them has clearly just undergone a drastic make-over. Handsome and pretty faces look at each other. I draw a lot of attention. Eyes- scared and cocky, squint to see everyone else better. I am no exception. My eyes linger on the strong looking tributes the longest. There are a lot of strong, muscular males. Endrew marches into the room wearing a flowing red tunic. His hair’s been died to a deep hue of brown. It makes him look older. Even though I’m staring, he doesn’t look at me, but rather continues talking to a blue-haired boy, who looks way too narcissistic to be in this game.

The girls don’t look that dangerous though. Most of them are small-framed and stick-skinny. A lot of Capitolian females are bulimic. It’s hard not to be when they even have medicine that makes you throw up when you’re full so you can continue eating. I hate to admit it even to myself, but I’m glad. I’m glad they’re sick. Every tribute is a tribute that might kill me. The less healthy they are the better off I will be.

Sector 1 tributes are called to the stage, and I watch two people emerge from the crowd of tributes and step on the aisle. A handsome tall guy and a small short girl. They’re dressed in matching write costumes that look a bit similar to the peacekeepers’ uniforms. Strong. That’s their image. The guy fits it quite well, but I wouldn’t say the same about the girl. She looks like a frightened child, dressed in her father’s uniform.

The crow cheers as they make it to the stage. In the backstage there’s a big screen and I see the two tributes from One smile carefully. The guy raises his hand and waves and the crowd goes wild. Girls mostly. He’s going to be popular.

A foxy-looking red-haired girl in a long silver dress scoffs on my left. “Pff, he looks much better now that they’ve removed that red the die from his skin and hair.”

A skinny white-haired guy, wearing a fitting silver one-piece shoots her an annoyed glare, but keeps silent. He looks like the kind of person who'd keep to himself. I catch a sigh of a ring in his lower lip before he notices me staring and turns his icy eyes on me.

I look away.

Endrew is now by my side, watching the screen in concentration. He’s probably trying to memorize all tributes. What they look like, who might pose a threat, who won’t.

Sector 2 is called and the red-haired girl and the silver guy leave. I watch the girl stride confidently while the guy looks like he’s about to jump off the aisle. The cheers are quieter than when the pair from One walked the path of Games.

It’s time for Sector Three. A childish-looking girl with long orange hair emerges from the back of the crowd. I look around trying to spot her partner but no one moves. My eyes swim over confused faces, looking for movement, but there’s none. For a short silly second I think the guy must have escaped. Then I remember where we are. It’s impossible to escape.

“Excuse me.”

I startle when a deep male voice speaks right behind me. A hand lands on my shoulder and my body is pushed aside as a black-haired guy walks past me, towards the girl with orange hair. I feel his palm brushing against the roses on my dress briefly when he walks by.

“Hurry!” As soon as he’s close enough, the girl grabs his hands and tugs on it, urging him to follow her. The guy lets out an annoyed sigh and pulls his hands free, before stepping on the aisle.

“We’re next.” Endrew murmurs.

That’s right. That was the pair from Three, meaning Four is up next. I’m Four. We’re Four.

My heart rate goes up as I watch the Sector 3 pair walk the path of Games. The girl is smiling nervously, and the guy… it’s amazing how calm and confident he looks. Maybe even a bit arrogant. Like he’s above everyone here. Above the Games and those people who cheer at him from the crowd. And oh boy, do the people cheer.

For the first time I notice what they’re wearing: the guy’s done up in an old-fashioned suit- black and crisp. Men wore those hundreds of years ago. The girl’s dressed in a long, ground-sweeping blood red dress. They look like they’ve just walked out of an old movie. Almost royal. The only thing ruining the effect is the girl’s hair which falls out of place.

“Sector Four!”

I don’t really have time to react. Endrew grabs my hand and before I know it I’m walking in front of thousands of people. Afraid that I might trip and fall,  I grip Endrew’s hand hard.  I hear cheers. Loud, ear-splitting cheers. Excited, admiring faces look at me. Lots of faces. Lots of people who like me.

I lift my chin up.

We reach the stage and stand by the pair from Three. I have to stand next to the Arrogant Black-haired guy, but I’m too distracted by the crowd to care. I notice that a lot of people are still checking me and the guys from One and Three out. We’ve caught their attention. We’ve got potential sponsors.

I can’t help but smile.

After that, it’s a blur. Tributes walk the path of Games; people cheer. Some get louder applaud; a few are met with whistles and unfriendly shouts. I don’t know why though-. I cannot even focus on other tributes and what they’re like. All I can think about is that new surge of hope- people like me. I might have sponsors; I might have a chance at surviving this.

When all 24 tributes line up on the stage, the host goes to each tribute and asks some question. It’s not time for the interviews yet, so the questions are short and general.

“How do you like your costume?” this question is directed at a short, muscular guy wearing a golden (or at least it looks like gold) chainmail shirt.

“Better than mine,” another guy, the one standing next to the chainmail-er cuts in, giving a huge lazy grin. His white perfect teeth flash in the sunlight. The crowd goes wild.

The host is quick to abandon the plain-looking chainmail guy and turn to the more popular –and attractive- tribute.. “Oh, you don’t like your costume, do you?”

The guy shrugs. ”Would anyone like this?” He’s wearing a long green shirt that has a sky and grass and then water painted on it. At the hem of the shirt there are paper water lilies. The shirt is silly. But somehow, he pulls it off.

“Could you please remind everyone your name and Sector?” The host is already smiling.

The guy runs a hand through his hair, his grin turning into a smirk. “Jonghyun. Sector 7.”

And the popularity award goes to Jonghyun!

Seriously, it’s abnormal how loud the spectators get.

 “So, Jonghyun, whose costume do you like the best then?...”

The guy seems to consider this for a moment. He stops smiling, knits his eyebrows together and narrows his eyes. A few silent seconds pass and everyone anticipates his answer. Then he takes a tentative step forward and looks to his right.

He looks at me.

I’m still ogling when his lips curve into a lopsided smile. “The rose girl’s.”

“Did you hear what they’re calling you? The rose girl! Told you you’d be the star! Cheers!”

Hot’s ecstatic. His dress was a huge success.

After that guy, Jonghyun, said my dress was his favorite, I became the center of attention. I got bombarded with questions about my life at the Capitol, Jonghyun was asked if he knew me before (“no”), am I attractive to him (“yes”), does he have a girlfriend (“no”). It was like an interview, only worse because everyone’s attention was on me and Jonghyun only.

You should have seen the looks on the remaining tributes’ faces. I think I might already have a bunch of potential murderers.

“Sea-gin, why alen’t you eeeatin? You shuld eat loooots! Youl tlaining stalts tomolloooow, ya have to be stloooong! Verrrry strrrrrrong!” Rain’s babbling. She’s had too much wine. I shoot a look at Hot, who’s now talking to my mentor. Aileena.

Hot catches my eye and coughs, breaking his conversation. “Ok, I think Rain needs to be escorted to her room.”

Aileena, who has proven to be quite a boring and stoic person, snorts. Her cheeks are also a little flushed. She’s had a couple of glasses too. “The needs an ? Where is the world heading?...”

Endrew’s mentor, Hector, nods in agreement. He lifts his fork with a piece of cake, but misses his mouth and drops the food on the floor.

Wow, the man knows some rare curses.

“It’s okayyyyy… Avoksss will clean itt.” Rain tries to stand up, but wobbles and Hot catches her before she can fall.

He gives me an apologetic smile. “Sorry you have to see this. Better go to sleep now. You did great today.”

His smile is so warm I probably would hug him if the drunken Rain wasn’t doing exactly the same thing.

Endrew stands up and leaves the room after Hot. After the opening ceremony he went back to his sulky self. Or maybe it’s just me who makes him that gloomy.

Not wanting to be with the mentors alone, I excuse myself from the table and leave the dinning room. I want to go back to my room and take a shower. My whole body is tired and itchy. The clothes I’m wearing feel surprisingly uncomfortable. I almost wish I had the rose dress. It made me feel strong and confident. Now I'm only a small exhausted girl again.

I reach the elevator and press the up button, waiting.

Just as the lift comes and the doors slide open, someone shouts behind me. ”Hold it for me!”

I turn around and see him. Jonghyun.

Silently, we step into the elevator and the door closes, trapping us in a small space. I almost feel the air get heavy. And it’s not because he’s attractive, it’s because we’re tributes. We’ll have to kill each other soon. The thought makes me inch away from him and press against the far end of the elevator. I keep my gaze fixed to the ground.

“Hey, Saejin, right?” He asks. His voice is the same it was on the stage- light and friendly. He doesn't sound like a guy who might kill me in a few weeks. Or days.

I don’t look at him, but nod.

“Hey, listen, sorry if I made you uncomfortable earlier today. You know, the whole dress thing.” He pauses as if waiting for me to say something, maybe look at him. When I don’t do either, he continues,“ I was trying to be honest. That’s my plan- to be honest, you know. It might be a crazy plan, but I really got nothing to-“

The elevator stops and the door opens, revealing a long well-lit corridor. I almost jump out of the cabin, leaving the babbling guy behind “It’s my floor.”

I don’t look back, but I still hear his next wrods, spoken just before the elevator door slides shut. “That dress really made my heart stop.”

An hour later I’m lying in my bed, waiting for sleep that refuses to come.

Even with my eyes shut tightly I see that coy smile and hear those words.

My heart keeps beating faster than it should. I want to cry, but i don't. I can't afford to be weak. Weak tributes don't last. And I have to last. I must. The illusion I had a few hours ago fades away slowly, and nothing but a dreadful feeling is left. The Hunger Games. Blood, pain and horror. That's what awaits us.

When I finally slip into an uncomfortable dream, I'm haunted by red roses that slice my skin like knives, blood that flows from my wounds and a brown-haired guy who keeps whispering that his heart has stopped.

Later in the dream, the guy's brown hair turns black, and his heart does stop.  I'm holding his lifeless form in my hands, screaming words i don't understand. Tears burn my eyes as my hands go in flames.

Then I bolt awake.

It's morning and I'm shaking.

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Thank you SO MUCH for all the comments guys :D I was so thrilled about the feedback I got! :D

About the sponsor system- as soon as the Games start, I'll post the prices of various items you can send to the tributes. You're already collecting points :)

PLEASE tell me what you think about this chapter! It's hard to write because I'm excited to get to the best part, but this has to be done. Jonghyun has already been introdused, and actually so has been Kai. Did you catch him? I bet you did :)

Also, since commenting might not be enough to earn a lot of points, i'm introdusing another way to get sponsor points. Answer the question I give on each chapter. Each question earns you 1 point. If you comment on the story (something about the chapter, you know, just more than the regular "update soon") AND answer the question, you get two points. So start collecting points, folks. You'll need them :)

QUESTION 01:  what song you know describes the the Hunger Games the best?

leave your answer in the comment box, and don't forget to comment on the story too :)