When they had brought Tiffany down to be styled, she had no idea that they would tie her down to a cushioned table and circle her like vultures. Her stylist, with a name that eluded her, made furtive glances at her hair and cuticles while she squirmed under the uncomfortable gaze. After a solid five minutes her stylist finally told her she could sit up. Tiffany obliged in a heartbeat.

“Now my darling,” her stylist began with an odd accent that caused all of her d’s to sound more like t’s. “You will be easy to work with. You have a glowing complexion and relatively symmetrical features. You will do fine.”

Tiffany bit her bottom lip and nodded slowly in response. She had no idea what to think of her stylist’s conclusions on her appearance. Of course, she knew that beauty was the key to her survival, but she felt too uneasy being scrutinised from head to toe. She wished that the Hunger Games wouldn’t have such a ridiculous parade. Dressing twenty four tributes for death; she could think of an infinite number of better things they could have spent their money on.

“But of course,” the stylist continued, disrupting Tiffany’s thoughts. “We will have to give you the full body treatment. And perhaps a more, in style look.” At this point, her eyes beamed with intrigue as she grabbed one of Tiffany’s dark brown locks between her fingers and tugged gently.

“W-What do you mean by that?” Tiffany responded, pulling back so that her hair was released from the questionable clutches of the lady with the glowing magenta hair.

“I think a nice red should suit you well. Perhaps some dashes of pink at the ends, just to make you look a little more … similar to your district yes?” Tiffany had no clue about the supposed correlation between her district and pink tipped hair but she drew the line at changing her silky locks.

“I don’t think that’s a good idea.”

“And why not?”

Tiffany gulped. “It’s just that, I don’t think it will suit me.”

Her stylist faked a fainting expression that fleeted from her face faster than Tiffany could roll her eyes. “But darling, your image is going to be natural and sweet. You’ll be borderline between girl and woman. It should definitely increase your line of sponsors. Am I right?”

Tiffany could not have disagreed more. If she were to be portrayed as a “natural” girl how could she embody such with artificially coloured hair that reflected nothing of her personality? She held one of the ends of her hair closer for inspection. It was a dark coloured mousy brown with slight variations of chestnut. It reminded her of her mother, the woman everyone found sickening. And to her great discomfort, it reminded her even more of her mother’s actions of abandonment that left her more alone than she had thought humanly possible. Tiffany’s eyes began to water as the droplets threatened to spill over her unyielding demeanour.

But they did not spill and Tiffany had decided she was ready for change.

“How about we make it auburn instead?” She stated, not as timid as her earlier excuses but stronger than she had expected.

A quarter of a smile played on the corner of her stylist’s lips. “I love it darling.”

-/-/-/-

“Nope, that costume won’t work. The wires aren’t in the correct sequence. Ugh, I’m in a room of amateurs aren’t I?” Minhyuk’s stylist was the complaining type. She was annoyingly overdramatic while being astonishingly oblivious to her entire personality. He wondered silently in his head, what would be left if they had removed everything unnatural about her. The choppy yellow hair, the thunderbolt eyebrows and even the geometric wardrobe; gone. What kind of normal would she look like?

Repositioning his glasses on the centre of his nose he took a seat in his horrendously revealing spandex costume for the tribute parade. Being a male from district three he at least thought they would provide him with a better costume option than just spandex with multiple green lines running patterns on his body. They were literally turning him into a human hard drive.

“Minhyuk! What’re you doing sitting down? We have five more suits to try on! Chop chop,” she hissed at him. The fact that she was taller than him did not make the situation any less aggravating.

He had once learnt from his mother that patience was intelligence. The ability to withstand the tedious obstacles in your path or to freeze over all feelings that had any connection to rage was considered a superior trait. He had basked in the fact that he had developed another layer of intelligence that was unable to be reached by others. It made him feel special.

And now, when he had reached a point in his life where he was forced to change into costumes of spandex, aluminium and even plastic, he was glad he had learnt something that was as valuable as a gemstone. If his genius brain was able to do more than just process the impatience as steam but to harness it for later use, then he would truly prove himself. And what better place to release built up frustration and anger than in the arena?

-/-/-/-

Nara readied herself with a steadying breath. She had waited outside of the large metallic doors for seven minutes, attempting to regain her breath and calm her nerves. They were about to enter the chamber where they would finally come face to face with all of the other tributes. They would meet their potential targets and their potential murderers all at the same time. She inhaled another deep breath. Doojoon, who was leaning against the wall nonchalantly and watching her intently, just chuckled.

“Nara, I know this isn’t the best time or anything, but watching you have a panic attack while you’re in a giant tree costume is actually the most entertaining thing I’ve seen since we arrived in the Capitol,” he laughed with a grin.

She released another exasperated breath. “We’ve only been in the Capitol for a couple of hours, barely an entire day. And if you haven’t noticed, it’s pretty hard to calm myself if I keep thinking hey, there’s a fourteen year old kid in there and he could possibly die in my hands.” Her face prickled with bitter defeat as she bore holes into her feet that had been transformed into tree roots. It was the magic of the Capitol; turning her into something she wished she could have been.

Leaving no second for her to doubt herself any further he shifted his weight off of the wall and laid his palms down on her shoulders. Lowering himself further so that they were staring directly into each other’s eyes, he attempted to give her his best pep talk, even though he felt the same gnawing panic in his gut. Only he was much better at hiding what he could never show.

“Listen to me. The youngest kid here is fifteen. And you won’t kill him. You won’t kill anyone, not unless it’s your choice. I’ve known you for nearly my whole life and one fact that I know for sure is that you’re not a killer and you never will be.” His hand grazed the bottom of her eye, right under her waterline where he is afraid a tsunami will escape through her lashes. But her droplets stayed where they should be; out of sight, and he can’t help but kiss her on the forehead when she gives him a light-hearted smile.

“Has anyone ever told you you’re the best?” She whispered.

“All the time,” he replied back smugly. It was a somewhat brief comfort to have her slowly returning to her old self. But the Games would change everything. They hadn’t even truly begun yet and she had already started deteriorating. She slipped through his hands like sand; so fine and microscopic that if he missed her once, everything else would be gone as well. Doojoon would never let her be taken by them. “Shall we?” He pointed to the doors, another barrier to overcome.

Taking a final soothing breath she nodded. If she was going to face her fears she was glad that she at least had someone she could trust by her side. They opened the large doors and strode in wearing their ridiculous tree costumes. Her heart was beating rapidly underneath the weaved material, but the proximity of his entire presence made the fear ebb away and a new type of calm flood her mind. No more hiding.

-/-/-/-

Fixing up his cufflinks Siwon glanced around the waiting area another time. Almost all of the tributes had arrived and were either attempting to forage alliances with other tributes or were sticking to their chariots, bonded by the strongest adhesive he knew; fear. It was five minutes until they were set to depart and ride out into the cheers of the Capitol. He was glowing with anticipation.

He leaned against the side of the district one chariot with ease as he watched his fellow Careers talk. It was so strange to see the four of them become remotely friendly with each other if in the end they would be forced to bludgeon one another to death. But, the Careers alliance had its benefits. His mentor had told him that the Careers had double the odds, possibly even triple of making it to the final five. He trusted in those odds wholeheartedly.

“I love your outfit,” Qri giggled as she held Krystal’s shoulder. Krystal tilted her head and responded with a light smile and a thank you. The district two tributes were dressed in edgy outfits with shifting monochromes from grey to black to white. Krystal was wearing a dress that became angular in the oddest places while Himchan donned a suit with sharp edges poking from his shoulders and elbows. They were typically dressed as “rocks of the future” to symbolise their district of masonry. Siwon thought it was quite the bold choice.

“You two look good together,” Siwon said with a sly grin. “Like two matching cliffs.”

Krystal released a petty laugh, unsure whether she should be aiming for a joking tone or a repulsed one. Himchan only smirked and laid his arm on her shoulder. She shrugged it off casually, but not apathetically enough to stop herself from stamping down on his foot. The pain had barely registered as his expression grew sinister.

“I’m sure the little princess over here appreciates the compliment,” Himchan replied with his gaze menacingly locked on Krystal who purposely looked away. Siwon nodded coolly in response.

He and Qri had only met the district two tributes ten minutes ago yet he already had a general idea of what type of competitors they may be. They were the type to be wary of. Even though they were both sixteen and appeared as if they could only throw a knife as far as Siwon could catapult a fortress; they were dangerous. For Krystal it was possibly the solidity within her eyes or the constant crease in her brow that suggested endurance. And for Himchan, it was just his entire being that made Siwon act more cautious.

“I sense something in the air,” his district partner hooted. Apparently Qri also played cupid in her spare time.

Krystal, obviously over the tidal wave of the other girl’s insulting compliments and the unnerving stare of her fellow tribute, went to lean next to Siwon. Deciding that he should intervene with the tributes from district two before things became more homicidal, Siwon steered the conversation in another direction.

“So, this year’s alliance seems to be looking good,” he began. “But just one thing. The tributes from district four, how are they looking this year?”

All four pairs of eyes turned to the chariot further down from them. The brunette girl in a shell bikini and scaly tale was wielding a golden trident with seashells caught on the tips. The lanky red haired male, with only a length of aqua fish scales covering his bottom half and a silver trident caught in his grasp stared down at the ground. Both were completely oblivious to the prying eyes.

“They aren’t too bad,” Krystal began slowly. “I heard the girl is her district’s hero. Apparently she can fight pretty well with a trident.” And as if on cue, the girl twirled the trident with a single hand before it clanged upright on the ground.

“I feel like I know that boy from somewhere …” Qri stated puzzled. It took her seconds of pondering to reach her conclusion. An illuminating light bulb flashed in her head as the image returned to her. A male tribute winning the games - with a net and trident in hand. “That’s it!” Now all eyes were back on Qri. “His father won the third Hunger Games! Remember? His father was the boy from four who slaughtered everyone with only a trident and a net. The Games were over in two days! Two days!”

Siwon recalled the memory vaguely. He had heard stories of earlier Hunger Games, and the story of the boy from four was almost legendary. He returned his gaze back to the tributes of four, and scrutinised the male. The resemblance was uncanny.

“Well now what do we do then?” Siwon questioned.

Himchan piped up with his growling voice; it was deep and prepared, like a predator ready to ensnare his prey. “It’s simple. We just grow our alliance. They’re obviously too big a threat to leave hanging around. So if we let them join us we have them under our radar.”

“And when they don’t join us?” Siwon suggested.

“We kill them,” Himchan replied blatantly.

“And when there are only the six of us left? Then what?” Krystal asked, her voice imploring him for an answer.

Himchan grinned his deadly smile as his eyes became slitted like a snake’s. “We kill them.”

-/-/-/-

Her hands gripped hard onto the front of the chariot as they waited for their turn to depart. The golden chariots with intricate carvings and the sleek charcoal horses seemed far too extravagant in Bomi’s eyes. She hadn’t seen horsepower this beautiful since she was back at home milking the cows. And as much as she would like to receive a twinkle to her eyes, the entire scene was not enough to ignite her flame of excitement.

Bomi had seen the looks that the other tributes shared together. The tributes from six were eternally scowling but prepared for a fight, the boy from one was ready to break some bones and the girl from five was just as ready to admit defeat as she was. After having sized up her competition 15 minutes earlier she had determined that mediocre fighting skills were not enough of a survival method.

And this meant that there was only one thing left. Sponsors.

The people who would enjoy the thrill of the arena without being inside it, the people who would see the carnage but never taste the guilt that followed instantaneously – they were the people she had learned to despise. But this would all have to change in a matter of time if she wanted to live to see her family again.

As district nine left with two stoic faced tributes, Bomi’s pulse began to become fidgety under her skin. It was at that moment that she realised she had nothing. She was not beautiful like the girl from eight, Tiffany, she wasn’tt y like the girl from eleven, Soyu and she was definitely not a threat like any of the Careers. The light at the end of the tunnel was only the tiniest illumination for her that was too far to fully grasp in mortal hands.

She glanced over at Junho who had his lips pressed in a firm line.

“What do we do?” She pleaded. She had no other friends, no other allies. Not because she hadn’t asked but mainly because she knew they would never accept. And if they happened to, it would just cause her to become more alert and suspicious.

“We flip them off and pretend we don’t hate the bastards,” he responded dully. Her eyes widened as she stared at him far too dumbstruck by his response. He looked back with a frown on his face. “I was kidding. At least about the first part”

“Funny joke,” she responded grimly. She didn’t understand his humour; perhaps because it was far too close to the truth. “So what now?”

“Stand straight and just do your best to subdue it.”

“Subdue what?”

“Whatever they throw at you. If it’s silence; accept it and if its applause … drown it out with the sound of your heartbeat. Just remember how human you are, and how inhumane this situation is. That should keep you grounded.” He pulled her hands off of the front of the chariot and waited for her to straighten herself. She searched his eyes for something, a hint of a smile, a trace of what used to be optimism, but there was nothing. He was only the remains of a shattered young soul still trying to breathe in a world that filled his lungs with toxins.

She exhaled loudly before looking away. Their chariot began to move as their noble steeds dragged them out into the open. Trotting on a dirt track they entered the spacious stadium. Splashes of colour surrounding them at every angle bobbed excitedly up and down as the noise of cheering echoed all around them.

She had been told when she was younger that her smile was explosively bright like the sun, radiating from every inch of herself. But when she had attempted something close to a curve on , all she could do was purse her lips as the crowds slowly quietened at their approach.

She tried her best, but sometimes her best just wasn’t enough.

-/-/-/-

And now they’re off. Sungyeol felt the rumble of the road underneath them as the horses pulled them along in an increasing pace. Riding in a chariot of gold he was struck with the power of something greater than his district would ever give him. It was so strange. He was caught between two different people, both living under his skin. The boy from five, quirky yet curious, would never have accepted the chariot ride wholeheartedly without feeling pain while the district five tribute within him propelled along with a fire ablaze within his soul. The thirst for power, vengeance, it was a growing hunger that could not be weakened with the increasing momentum of their chariot.

Sungyeol took another look around him as the thousands that watched cheered with an alien enthusiasm. It was surreal. He could hear their cries of encouragement and feel their hands clapping for him. He grinned to his left and was able to give a wave as the announcer acknowledged their presence.

Turning to his right he came face to face with Jooyeon. Her eyes were downcast with fear and her face was ashen. She appeared more traumatised by the experience than he would have thought. After taking two seconds to mull over his options in his head he decided to give her a meek smile before continuing to wave to the crowds on her side.

They went wild.

Riding closer towards the main building he listened to the rate of screams that each district received. Of course district two, the apple of the Capitol’s eye, collected a great amount of hollers. And from what he had seen through the mirror-like technology, they were the fiercest district two tributes to enter the Games.

As their horses guided them to a stop next to the district four tributes, Sungyeol could hear the silencing of screams further back. Glancing back cautiously he turned to see that the next pair of tributes to enter were from district ten. They stood frozen with their backs stiffened straight and their faces uneasy.

Sungyeol had known that district ten was one of the least popular, but the dimming exclamations from the crowd was an unexpected occurrence. He almost felt sorry for them, that they couldn’t receive the attention that the others had. However, his sympathy dissipated with a blink as he shrugged the thought away and turned back to the front.

-/-/-/-

 The double doors slammed shut behind them and the shrill cheers were drowned out to a deep muffle. The tributes began to exit their chariots and were reunited with their escorts, mentors and stylists.

Jumping out of the district eleven chariot, Kevin straightened his checkered shirt and held out a hand for Soyu. She scoffed at his chivalry and stepped out by herself.

“I don’t see why you have to start trying to act like a gentleman now,” she said while rolling her eyes.

“There’s nothing wrong with having some manners. I’m sure someone could teach you that.”

She shot him an incredulous look. “I have manners.”

He chuckled and leaned his face closer to hers so that his breath tickled her cheek. She felt a wave of déjà vu and suppressed her desire to inch closer. “Last time I checked, people with manners would actually contact the other person after doing what we did on the train …”

Her face contorted into an expression of pure horror as her cheeks grew tomato red. Glancing around, all of the other tributes had already begun to leave and she breathed a sigh of relief when she concluded that no one had overheard their conversation.

When she turned back to face him she had a resolute expression imprinted in her features. “Listen. That was only one moment. I was grieving and stupid and I’m berating myself for it as we speak but it doesn’t mean anything. Your mind games can only go as far as you can survive in the Games so don’t get in my way anymore okay?”

She could hear the steps of her mentor approaching fast but she needed his confirmation before she left. Despite all of her complicated feelings for him that wrapped themselves around her brain, she knew that they would never chain themselves to her heart. “Are we clear?” Determination was caught within her eyes.

He cocked his head to the side and answered as smugly as his posture demanded. “Crystal.”

A/N: I apologise if this chapter is all over the place but I'm trying to write it with a bit more flow so that the events occur more or less in an order but just from a different person's perspective each time. And I'm sorry it's taking so long for the Games to begin but I promise they shall start soon. 

And on a side note; OMG CATCHING FIRE WAS SO GOOD. I actually can't. It was very to the book which is what I love and even though it feels like everything went so fast I really liked it. And the change in directors didn't hurt the film either. I am satisfied with saying that I don't regret my zombie-state on the very next day. Totally worth it.