She led me through the dark train terminal and into another building. In the room of the place I was led to, I saw a few girls in vibrant Capitol clothes. They were scurrying around the room, preparing beauty tools and checking themselves in the mirrors at the same time.

  "These are your stylists," my said while they still ran about. "They'll be the ones in charge of how you'll look for tonight's tribute ceremony."

  My breathing tightened. "Ceremony...?" I asked weakly without looking back at her. I could see my pucker her lips at my question.

  "Yes, dear," she replied excitedly. "The tribute parade is tonight! You'll be beautified!"

  Beautified? What?

 She pinched my cheek, and then turned in the direction of all the stylists. "Get to work, all of you. You're running short on time!" My clapped her hands at them, and immediately, they started working on me. Some of them were already beside me, making measurements and recording them on notebooks. One girl with bright purple hair tugged on my arm after the measurers left.

  "This way, please." Without making eye contact, she pulled me towards a corner of the room. I saw an empty white chair waiting for me. The violet-haired girl directed me towards that very chair, so I sat down on it, feeling its soft cushion underneath me. The girl left me to find tools at a silver table nearby. I stared at my sad, tired reflection in the mirror until I noticed the violet-haired girl behind me and already at work with my hair. She held a pair of shears in one hand and a regular comb in the other. I watched her concentrate on my hair and trim off damaged parts and ends. She would comb through my hair frequently and occasionally stop to tuck her hair behind her ears.

  "Do all tributes have to do this?" I had asked her. She slowly looked up and flipped her crystalline violet locks away from her eyes.

  "Yeah, they do," she replied monotonously. "You want to look good for the parade, right?"

  I nodded. The stylist looked down at my hair again and cut off some last ends before putting her tools away. She stood behind me once more and ran her fingers through my scalp.

  "You look great." She beamed. "My name is Saffra, by the way, I'm your main stylist. What's your name again, honey?"

  "Chanyeol." I replied dully.

  "Chanyeol...Oh right, Park Chanyeol." She smiled. "District 12?"

  "Correct."

  Saffra grinned. "Wonderful. Now, you'll have to go to the table behind me and lay down on it." She pointed toward a metal surgical table behind us. "Three other stylists will meet you there shortly."

  I nodded and got off the white chair. "Thank you." I instinctively bowed to her before walking to the silver table. I walked behind her and slowly approached the table. The room fell silent, and it seemed like all the stylists in the room had their eyes on me. I carefully hoisted myself upon the steel table and lay flat on it. Three ladies approached me shortly after.

  "Hi," said a woman with long, white false lashes. "All we're gonna do is clean up your face a little."

  "You're going to clean my face?" I repeated.

  The woman nodded. "Sure. Like, cleansing your skin and t your brows."

  ...What?

  "I just want you to close your eyes," the woman said as the other two girls were preparing to "clean up my face". "We're going to start with cleaning your skin."

  I closed my eyes and felt a hand massage some kind of soap into my cheeks. I could feel it turn into a lather in seconds. The hands rubbed against my face and eventually the soap started to give me a burning sensation, probably eradicating all the dirt and impurities on my facial surface. The hand stopped.

  "Hold your breath," one of the girls told me. "We're gonna rinse you off." I held in the air in my lungs as I felt a splash of lukewarm water drench my face.

"Good!" the woman exclaimed when one of the girls finished cleaning me. "Now, for your brows." She held a pair of silver tweezers and immediately got to work with my eyebrows, plucking and shaping them carefully. I would occasionally wince from the pain because I have never gone through this process. While she did her work, I could hear some of the other workers whisper things about me to each other. With every brow hair pulled, I would hear things from the stylists, like, “He’s so handsome,” and “What’s his name?”

“They’re talking about you,” said the woman, as if I didn’t get it already. “That’s a good thing!” she added as she finished plucking my eyebrows. She set down the tweezers and helped me sit up. “I’ve been told to tell you to head back to your quarters. Do you know where that is?”

I shook my head. My just managed to show up right on cue too.

“I’ll take Chanyeol to his quarters!” she beamed, helping me off the table. She grasped my shoulders, and I stiffly stood in front of her. You could tell she put on a new layer of that disgusting perfume. I made a face of disgust after inhaling the rancid smell. She turned me to the direction of the door and led me out.

“Your room is beautiful! You’ll love it there!” she exclaimed as we were both walking to yet another room in the building.

“Will I really?” I protested.

“Yes!” she unlocked the small room door and opened it to reveal large, spacious, contemporary living quarters before me. It was beautiful, indeed. My standards for the Capitol were much too low. I’d have to raise it up a little, even for the Hunger Games.

Edit: A/N - Hi guys! So sorry for the delay. I've been so busy! Dx Exams, classes, concerts, NHS applications, all that fun academic stuff. lol not

Chapter 3! I'll be starting that very soon. I've come up with a lot of interesting ideas for this story, stay tuned!