Oliver Costello
Age 17
Male Tribute
District 2
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I put my hand on the cool glass window in my room. I know what the other tributes are thinking about me because I heard them.
He's so skinny.
There is no way anyone from District 2 will win.
He's not even strong.
But they're wrong. I may not have the burliest frame, or the biceps of a man who lifts weights all his life, but one thing I do have, is the IQ of a the most intelligent professor in District 3. I know the anatomy of a car, how to create gravel with man made items, and even the powders and creams that the Capitol citizens use for there crazy skin, and how to make it.
I am one of the few tributes that aren't completely fascinated with the food and rooms that the Capitol provides for us. I get that all the time at District 2, because my family is rich and we live in a mansion sponsored by the Capitol. I am more so interested in the technology that the Capitol runs by. I rise from the gold plush chair and reach under my bed that has golden Suns on it. I feel under the bed until I feel a cool, metal case. I smile to myself as I take it from under the bed and open it. Last night, I created a small camera out of the remote to the projector, and planted it behind the dresser. Then I lied and told a blue haired Avox that the automated doors in my room were broken and I needed the doors fixed right away. I captured where the Avox hid the mechanical tools. I'm as brilliant as the person who created waffles.
I opened the case and am shocked at the tools that are gleaming in front of me. Water powered screwdrivers, two hammers in one, a dozen bullet proof nails, and much more. I take out a pair of luminescent goggles, electricity powered tweezers, the water-powered screwdriver, and a flashlight, then I head over to my operation.
For right now, the table that automatically sends food to me is my Operation Game. I flip the switch on the screwdriver that says ON and it whirs to life. I fill the tube of the screwdriver with water from the sinks and then start unscrew the panel with the buttons on it, and just as I'm about to unscrew the last screw, the water runs out, and as I go to refill it, there is a knock at the door.
I immediately panic and throw everything into the case that has the Capitol seal on it and shove it underneath the bed, and put one of the huge dictionaries that I found on the table over the panel of buttons. The knocking continues, and just as I finish hiding the evidence, the door bursts open.
Geneli Savena, District 4's announcer, fumes at the door.
"I knocked several times and you didn't answer!" Geneli says, his bright green eyes flashing."You're stylists are here!" He says. My heart immediately fills with dread. I hate the stylists because they're basically making you look handsome for slaughter. Geneli pulls me by my arm down a long hallway and stops at a white steel door, and it slides automatically open. I wonder how that works. But my thoughts are interrupted when I realize that my arm is throbbing when Geneli lets go of it.
"Hey Geneli?" I say coolly. His head swivels to me and he cocks his head in an irritated manner."Maybe try pulling someone's arm down a hallway a little gentler next time."
"Ugh, if this stick figure makes a big deal about that, I can only wonder how he'll do in the Games." An annoyed voice says. My main stylist Ina glares at me, while the one on her right, Reyin smirks evilly at me and the one on Ina's left, Quela, looks very clueless. They all look ridiculous in their Capitol attire, hungry for their next victim to prep, except for Quela. She almost seems to take pity on us tributes.
"Well, I bet all of your intelligence combined will still be five times lower than mine alone. As a matter of fact, at least I don't have purple skin." I say referring to Reyin's deep violet choice of skin tone. He looks mortified when I say that, and gasps.
"I'll have you know that this is one of the latest fashions of the Capitol!" He says.
"Alright, quit it!" Geneli exclaims, stomping on the teal marble floor. We turn to him.
"The chariots are going to be ready in two hours, so do your job and prepare him!" Geneli says.
Quela quickly tells me to strip down as Geneli leaves the room.
"You have to, we have to see what we're working with." She explains. Her bright pink skin gleams as she talks and her studded orange hair waves. I do as she says and Reyin, Ina, and Quela circle me like preying vultures. They lift my bony arms and poke me in various places.
Then the horror begins.
Ina grabs the waxing strips, and apply them on my limbs, then tears them off one by one. As I grimace, she seems to be enjoying my pain.
Quela rubs an inky blue cream on every inch of my face, but being careful to avoid my eyebrows and eyelashes. It smells of rat poison and burnt tomatoes, and it isn't very pleasant. She tells me it's to prevent facial hair, and that she'll have to apply it every two days to make it permanent.
Reyin runs his hands through my thin, blonde, hair with a cinnamon shampoo and chills go through my body as water runs down my back.
Finally they are finished and they admire their work. Ina has a pair of tweezers, and plucks any remaining hair on my body, and my skin is red and raw, my face is smooth, and my hair is as soft as warm waffle.
"Put on a robe and follow me." Ina says, satisfied. She leads my into a room where she shows me her design that I'm going to wear on the chariot. I am not one for caring about my appearance, so I just nod and agree with everything she says. Finally she hands me the outfit and instructs me to put it on.
I walk into the dressing room, and slide on the tux. I notice that the build of the tuxedo makes me look strong and that I have a wide frame, and I inwardly thank her.
When I return, Reyin, Ina, and Quela are standing there, observing the outfit. Seeing no faults, they quickly applied a thin foundation and light touches of their brush, and they even allowed Quela to precisely draw facial hair on me.
When I glance in the mirror, the 17 year old Oliver doesn't look the same. I look older, and stronger, like a true District 2 citizen. Then Geneli bursts through the doors yet again, and told us that the chariots were outside waiting. As I walk outside, I think. Maybe I could actually be the winner of The Hunger Games.
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Hey my beautiful Cupcaters, thanks for reading this chapter, and don't be afraid to tell me any ways that I can make my book better because I don't take it to offense unless it's rude, and all of you Cupcaters are awesome and I love you all!!😘😘 PS: There is a pic of Oliver up there in his tux. Tell me your fave character so far!😍😍😍
