The Hunger Games: Prim [REWRITING]

Chapter 5: Remember Me

Chapter 5

: Remember Me

I didn't expect my prep team to be so kind. My standard of the Capitol having been set by Effie, I wasn't expecting much. And yes, my prep team— Venia, Octavia and Flavius— do sport a Capitol accent and high pitched voices, and a disregard for poorer districts like 12, but I can see that they really want to do the best for me. And to me, that's absolutely heartwarming.

"Don't worry, Primrose, we promise it won't hurt for very long," Venia tells me, preparing strips for waxing. I've been stripped naked and set on a table, and it only reminds me of treating dozens of soldiers on the table back at home. Except this time, I'm not the medic. I am the patient.

"How are you liking the Capitol so far, darling," Octavia asks. She works on my nails as she speaks.

"It's been quite pleasant, when I don't think about the dying part."

"Oh, but don't you worry, this next couple of days will be the most marvellous, and fantastic moments of your life! If not for this opportunity, you would never have learned the Capitol way of life!"

"Octavia!" Flavius scolds, "That is no way to speak to a tribute. Poor girl, being drawn out of that glass bowl by the grim reaper himself—"

Flavius is cut short when I scream. Venia pulls away a wad of hair from under my arms.

"I'm so sorry, I know it hurts. But, don't worry, my dear. You don't have much hair to wax. You're already quite gorgeous, and after we're done with you, and after Cinna is done with you, you'll win the hearts of the entire country of Panem!"

"You really think so?" I ask, a smile spreading across my lips.

"For sure! Now, just a couple more strips, then Flavius here can work on braiding down your hair."

I nod and brace myself for the next rip of excruciating pain.

. . .

It takes a good hour to finally finish at the remake center. When my nails are shaped perfectly, most hair on my body ripped away, and my blond hair in braids, I'm finally allowed to stand in front of a mirror to examine the prep team's job. At first, I deny their offer, feeling too awkward to look into a mirror to see a naked reflection staring back at me, but my team is too excited for me to see their work.

It's weird to stare at my own face. It's been a while, and I never made it much a practice to observe my own features in a mirror. I look right into my eyes, then my braids, and my bare, bare body. There's not much to say.

"You guys did a great job," I say awkwardly, though not sure what a "great job" encompasses. I didn't ask to be stripped down to my very core and made a snack before I enter the arena and actually become the snack of vicious predators.

But the prep team is so happy that I approve of their work, and excitedly call for Cinna, telling me that I will love my stylist. They hurriedly exit the room together, stumbling over their own feet in their high, high heels, and I'm soon met with silence. It's calming. And for some reason, I hear Katniss' voice in my head.

"Prim, you're beautiful, inside and out, remember."

"I love you Katniss," I whisper to no one in particular. "I miss you, I really miss you."

I try to go through her instructions for me. Watch the reapings, make alliances. That'll be the next step. As we begin training, my next step is to form alliances.

. . .

I'm not quite sure what I was expecting from Cinna, but he definitely does not fit any of my expectations. For one, he barely has an accent. And second, he could pass as normal. His attire is simple and he's dressed for comfort, and there's nothing unnatural about his physique save the gold eyeliner across his eyelid. He is, in fact, a rather attractive, young man.