Snowdrop

Chapter 4

I sit on a cool metal table while my prep team strips my body of hair. I grit my teeth as Serena tears the last strip of fabric from my leg.
I know I should feel self-conscious in front of them with no clothing on, but I can't. They're just so ridiculous. They look like the bags of brightly coloured popcorn I see in the window of Maysilee's sweet shop.
Maysilee. I remember the bag of peppermints she gave me. I never remembered to retrieve the sweets nor my mother's dress from the train. Now I wish I had.
"Are you all right?" Luna asks, putting down her comb and looking at me with concern.
I nod, smiling sweetly. "Yes, yes. I was just thinking of home."
Demetrius sighs, clasping a hand to his heart. "Oh, you poor darling! You must be missing your family terribly. But don't worry, you'll feel right at home in the Capitol in no time. At least you'll finally have enough to eat; look at you!" He gestures to my painfully obvious ribs, and I have to bite back yet another disgusted remark about how we would have enough to eat if the Capitol weren't so harsh.
I simply smile again, and say, "Oh, yes. I'll love the food."
Once Luna stops snip-snip-snipping at my hair – to remove split ends, she says – I'm rubbed down with a lotion that soothes my raw body. Then my prep team removes any last hairs with tweezers, and stands back to admire their work.
"Oh, sweetheart!" cries Luna. "You look lovely! Far better than when you came from District Twelve."
I have to agree with her. We don't find much time or necessity for daily bathing, and even when we do it's a quick dip in cold water and soap, if we can afford it. My mother tries her best to boil the water over the fire so we can have a warm bath, but usually by the time it's my turn, it's already cooled. Our clothes are so dirty and faded that if there was ever any pattern on the fabric, you can't tell anymore, and makeup is a luxury that we can never afford. I've only seen a handful of girls from the merchants' area wearing lipstick.
"Let's get Spindle!" exclaims Serena, and they all troop out.
I breathe a sigh of relief. After the quiet, sensible people of District 12, these brightly painted ones are a little too much to bear. I wonder what spirits will be like back home. My mother and Kaitlynn will almost certainly be flicking the television on and off to see if the usual static has been replaced by the opening ceremonies broadcast. Is Burnet sticking to his promise? Looking after the girls? Making sure he doesn't fight with Kaitlynn?
And what about Maysilee's family? Will they be watching us tonight? Or will they just be relieved that another girl is in her place?
The door opens and a young woman walks in. She doesn't look remotely like she's from the Capitol. In fact, she has the tanned, worn face of someone from the Districts. Her light brown hair is tied back in a practical ponytail, and she wears a ruffled blouse and flared trousers. She smiles pleasantly at me.
"Hello, Melia. I'm your stylist, Spindle," she says. Her voice is completely clear of any Capitol inflections.
"Hello," I reply.
"Before you ask, I'm from District Eight. They needed far more stylists this year, so I was picked, being from the textiles District. Now, just give me a moment." She circles me, inspecting my body. "Good. I can work with that. I'm aware that Acacia wants you and your brother to be inseparable?"
I nod. "Yes, I think so."
"I've already got an idea for your outfits. The training uniform is quite simple, just a black shirt and trousers. And I'm working with your brother's stylist, Juno, for the interview outfit. But I expect you're hungry since you've been sitting here for three hours, so put your robe back on and we'll get something to eat."
I dress and follow her into a large room with several couches and a table. She sits across from me, then presses a button on the side of the table. A large platter of food appears, and the smell makes my mouth water. Chunks of tender lamb and brightly coloured vegetables cooked in a yellow sauce and served on a bed of golden grain, fresh rolls, and fruit dipped in something Spindle calls melted chocolate.
I'm hesitant to start eating. It's almost as though I think I shouldn't have any of the Capitol's food because of who they are and what they do to us back in the districts. What must these people do all day, if not trading for food and cloth and soap and trying to survive? What must they think of us?
Spindle must notice my look of disgust, since she gives a light laugh. "I can imagine you must think we're horrible people. All this luxury, while you struggle to even find enough to eat on a daily basis. I thought the same when I first arrived here."
"But at least you've had time to adjust to it, and now you belong to the Capitol," I reply, my voice laced with sullenness.
She just smiles and picks up a roll. "No, not really. You've got to remember that the reading of the card was only two months before the reapings. And I might belong to the Capitol, but that doesn't mean that I have to like them."
She has a point. I help myself to a plate of the stew, albeit reluctantly, as she speaks again.
"Back to the subject of your outfits. Since it's customary to wear something that reflects the principal industry of your district, you'll be in coal miner's outfits. Nothing too flashy."
Oh, boy. Nothing more dull than a coal miner's get-up.
Spindle sees my expression and grins. "I'll try to make it as exciting as possible. But it means that you're going to need to see your prep team again."

A few hours later, I'm dressed in a simple white shirt and short overalls. A belt with a plastic pickaxe hangs at my waist, and a strip of cloth with a headlamp ties around my head. My prep team was instructed to apply black smudges to my body and to tie back my hair in a ponytail.
Haymitch leans against our carriage, seemingly too bored to acknowledge any of us. Bailey seems jittery, smiling constantly and never standing still for more than a few seconds. Ember just clasps my hand. Right. Got to keep up the sibling angle.
The chariots are much bigger this year, since they've got to carry twice as many tributes. Ours is pulled by black horses, which are so well trained that nobody needs to guide the reins.
We clamber into the chariot. I'm not sure who the other two stylists are, but Spindle smiles reassuringly at me. "You'll be okay," she calls.
Then the anthem begins and massive doors slide open to reveal the streets of the Capitol. The tributes from District 1 ride out on a silver-painted chariot. They're in dark outfits encrusted with rubies, and the crowd goes wild almost immediately. From where our chariot is positioned, I can see District 2 prepare to follow them. They're in brick-patterned outfits; ride out on a carriage that seems to be made out of stone. Three, Four, Five.
As the tributes roll out, a knot begins to form in my stomach. Ember grips my hand even harder, gives me a reassuring smile. How must I look to the other tributes? Much smaller than them, clinging to my brother. Pathetic.
Then before I know it, District 11 is rolling out on their chariot and we get into position to follow them.
"Smile, you lot!" shouts Spindle. "You want them to think you want to be here. Be proud of your District!"
I force an awkward smile onto my lips. Ember stands tall and grins, looking completely relaxed. I don't know how he does it, but I tell myself I must follow his example.
As we ride out into the Capitol, my back straightens a little. The crowd's cheers die down a little bit as they see our outfits. We've never really been a contender with the other chariot outfits, which is part of the reason why our tributes hardly get any sponsors.
But then I find myself beaming, and Ember has our hands clasped above his head. What's he trying to do? Does he honestly think that playing the sibling angle will help us gain support?
He's right, though. Eventually I can make out cries of "Ember and Melia! Ember and Melia!"
Then someone throws a rose to us. Ember breaks our handhold just long enough  to catch it, wave in the general direction of the person who threw it, and then hand it to me.
My heart is pounding so hard I can hear it in my ears. That, combined with the music blasting all around us and the shouts of our name, are enough to cause a little fizz of excitement in my stomach. I blow a few kisses to the crowd and hands reach up to catch them as though they're real. All the time I can feel my smile widening until my face feels like it might split in two.
As we enter the City Circle, Ember wraps an arm around me and waves to the crowd. They go absolutely nuts, screaming our names, until we pull to a halt in front of President Snow's mansion. My brother doesn't let go.
As the music ends and the president begins his welcoming speech, I look up to see my brother and I on one of the screens set up beside the mansion. I look so young, leaning against Ember, my eyes wide and a small smile on my lips. I can't help noticing that the camera hovers over us for just a fraction longer than the other tributes. I suppose it makes sense. People should sympathise with us, the siblings who want nothing more than to get each other home safely.
The national anthem plays, the cameras give another cut around to the tributes, and we circle around and into the Training Centre.
Ember climbs out first, then holds out his arms to help me out. Spindle runs forward, a massive grin on her face.
"Oh, you two were brilliant! I can tell already that you'll have sponsors lining up by the dozen." She looks over at Haymitch and Bailey. I realise I completely forgot about them, I was so caught up with Ember. "Bailey, I think you'll be quite a surprise to the other tributes. You were completely laid back, but there was still a hint of fire behind that calm demeanour. And Haymitch. You're absolutely perfect. You're the darker side of District Twelve, and it offsets the other three wonderfully. You should all four be very proud of yourselves."
Later on, when I wash the last of my makeup from my face in the shower, I crouch down so the water splashes against my back like rain. I allow myself a minute to grin like an idiot.
"There we go, Melia. They love you," I tell myself. "They think that you and Ember are adorable together, and Spindle said that you'll have sponsors lining up by the dozen. What more could you want?"
I turn the water off and dress in a shirt and soft trousers. Then I climb into bed and gaze out the window at the Capitol. The lights twinkle like stars, and I hear shouts from the streets below. These people are so loud. Would I be the same way if I had been brought up here? Would my priorities be silly little things like getting my eyebrows the same colour as my outfit, instead of getting enough to eat? I like to think that wouldn't be the case, but judging by every person I've seen so far, I get the feeling I'd worry about things the districts deem unimportant.
I close my eyes and fall asleep with a small smile.