Silver Treble Clefs

Chapter 5: First Impressions

Kurt dresses Blaine in a simple jumpsuit, the structure of it looks like bread crust, but it feels comfortable and easy. Even if it's just for the opening ceremony, Blaine decides to like his stylist.

Kurt is currently working on his hair, trying to style it down with a ton of hair gel. Except it isn't like the stuff he uses in the District. He doesn't use much in the District, never feels comfortable walking around with his curls plastered to his head. To him it feels like showing the people he has money to spare, money for hair products. People watch him when he does.

Of course he does occasionally, when they have dinner with the mayor, when they visit the local theatre for a performance or when he himself performs there. It's occasional, but it happens. When he tries to control his curls at home it takes him hours, two washings and at least half a pot of hair gel. Kurt just uses a special brush and some spray and his curls do exactly that what Kurt wishes of them. He wonders if it's Kurt who has taught Cooper to style his hair all wavy and perfect.

"Were you Cooper's stylist, too?" He asks, breaking the comfortable silence they had been having so far. It's strange, really, the way Kurt's presence sets him at ease in a way neither Cooper nor Quinn have managed thus far into the trip.

"How old do you think I am?" Kurt chuckles, "I was a mere child when your brother won the games. I remember, though, he was my very first crush."

Blaine coughs. He knows Cooper is wanted, knows The Capitol wants Cooper to do things, want him to spend time with people for money that Snow strikes up. He knows people like Kurt want his brother, that he is desired.

"You like my brother?"

"I did, when I was ten."

It's been twelve years since Cooper won the games at sixteen, Kurt was ten. So that means he's twenty two now, not that much older than Blaine himself.

"You're young to be a stylist, then," Blaine says and Kurt shrugs.

"I guess I'm talented. They don't pick people lightly for this, you know, there is a whole screening. My hands bled for five days after I went through it. So I expect you to win this thing for me, I'm not doing this to lose the person they make me dress."

"I'll try," Blaine is the one to shrug this time. Even though Kurt is nice and gentle and it looks like he really wants Blaine to win, he still is from The Capitol and considers five days of bleeding hands as terrible as trying to survive in an arena with 23 other under aged children. Cooper had warned him for that, that people in The Capitol don't understand real struggle. They don't see their friends struggle to feed themselves every day, they don't watch their teacher being thrown into custody because she teaches about a Panem before Panem existed. To them, the greatest fiasco they've ever experienced are broken nails and bleeding knuckles.

Kurt smiles at him gently, almost warm, and then ushers him out towards the carriages. The horses in front of them are majestic to say the least. Kurt watches Blaine watch the horses and takes his hand to lead him to the back, where they wait for Tish and her stylist. He looks around, trying to find Cooper and Quinn but he can't.

"Smile and wave at the crowd," Kurt tells him as he squeezes his hand lightly, "make them fall in love with you. I know you can, it's in your blood. It's how your brother did it."

Right, brother, he has a reputation to live up to on top of everything else. His brother, who's not even here at the moment. He climbs the chariot with Kurt's help, and tries to avoid looking at all the other Tributes. Which he can't. They all look amazingly different from what he had seen on the broadcast of the reapings. He knows they've all been through similar preparation rituals as he did, the girls probably even more. None of them look like District kids anymore, but no amount of make-up, scrubbing, clothing and hairspray can hide the fear in their eyes. It's amazing, really, how they can all have different skin tones, different costumes and features and yet all look alike because their eyes all shine bright with the same emotion.

When Tish and her stylist, Tina, walk towards them, Blaine's mouth drops open. Gone is the small girl that got on a train with him, and in her place is a fierce young woman, dressed in a tight jumpsuit similar to the one Blaine is wearing. Her posture is straight, straighter than it was and she walks with her head held high. Blaine sees it immediately, this girl didn't get on a train to surrender. She will fight to stay alive. Blaine isn't sure what brings it on, maybe some sort of primal instinct, but immediately he stands up straighter himself. If she will fight, he will fight. He doesn't care how or why, she and he are from the same District and he knows one of them need to survive. District 9 deserves as much.

"Let's do this," she says with a strong voice and Blaine helps her up on the chariot.

"Let's do this," he agrees. One last look at Kurt and Tina, a forced smile and then the horses start pulling the carriage. He holds on tight as they race down the wide open space with the audience on either side. Blaine barely registers what happens, focuses on staying atop the carriage and smiling. The list of focus in his head adjusted now Kurt and his prep team have informed him a little more on what will happen.

Opening ceremonies, training, interviews, rating, trying not to die.

The noise around him is loud, he keeps his smile bright and tries to soak up Tish's fighting energy to match it. He might even succeed, because when he sees their bright faces light up the screens, the cheers in the crowd seem louder than ever. Of course, it can be his imagination, but it still gives him hope and so he courageously lets loose one hand and waves at the crowd. In response, the cheers get louder and he sees people get to their feet.

"They love us," Tish whispers and Blaine immediately knows she's right. Something in the atmosphere around them changes. The crowd goes wild as they both dare to wave more excitedly. Blaine lets himself be influenced by the excitement around him and almost misses when the chariot reaches its destination, the horses coming to a sudden stop. After almost falling off, he quickly regains his composure and watches President Snow getting up on his step, his trademark rose placed neatly in the lapel of his jacket.
He holds his speech, probably something inspiring and creepy. Blaine doesn't hear a single thing he says, keeps his eyes focuses on the rose as to not get distracted, and starts repeating the list in his head again. It's strange, how his thoughts are all over the place. How one moment he can wave and smile at the crowd and think he has a chance of winning, and look at the career tributes from District 1, 2 and 4 the next and feel his death upon him.

"I present to you, the tributes of the 73rd Annual Hunger Games!"