| A Twisted Fate ❀ Cato Hadley |

Smile and Wave

 Chapter 3

Smile and Wave

Courage is the discovery that you may not win, and trying when you know you can lose.

The following morning, I'm automatically woken up, due to the unexplainable amount of terror I had bubbling inside of me. I couldn't go back to sleep, so I just laid in bed for an hour straight. When I glance back at the clock, I see it's finally struck 8:00 AM. I lazily sit up in the bed, rubbing my eyes and pushing my wavy hair away from my eyes. I stand up and walk over to the bathroom, taking only ten minutes to wash up and get redressed into my dress from the Reaping (which wasn't very pleasing, might I add.) I walk out of the room, and into the main cart of the train. I see Marvel, Ruby, Cashmere, and Gloss already having breakfast.

I quickly take a sit beside Marvel, who seems to be having a deep conversation with Gloss. Looks like Cashmere will be mentoring me in private from now on. I forcefully chirp out a 'Good morning,' to convince them that I was alright. I munch on a bowl of fresh cut fruit, while listening to Cashmere talk about her experience in the Games. I didn't mind, though. It was something to distract me from thinking of my family again.
Soon enough, we feel the train start to tediously make it's way to a stop. We must be entering The Capitol. As we're passing through a tunnel, I take the opportunity to get out of my seat at the table, and wait in front of the nearby window. I could hear the large crowd of Capitol citizens already clamoring from outside of the train. Marvel does the same, standing right by my side. The Capitol isn't how I imagined it to be. It's even more ravishing and incredible in person. The sight is breathtaking. Even after living in District One my entire life, it couldn't possibly compare to this. The people finally come into view, and I see a variety of unique styles. There's a lot of bright colors, tattoos, and their clothing looks complex and delicate in the same way. They've all gathered near the train tracks, waving and whistling and just doing all sorts of things to grab our attention. I remember that if I'm ever close to death in the arena, I'll have to count on these people to sponsor me. A piece of bread, a knife, or even some medicine could make the difference in whether I survive or not. An automatic grin forms on my lips, and I bring up a hand to enthusiastically wave back at them. Marvel is doing the same, and the crowd loves it.

Marvel and I are then escorted from the train, and into a large building. We're immediately separated, being sent off to "Polish up our appearance," as Cashmere puts it. I'm met by a trio of very different looking Capitol citizens, who are assigned to be my prep team. The first one, Valora, has fiery red hair that falls short at her jawline, and bright blue eyes. I can tell they're contacts, because it's impossible for eyes to be such a vibrant shade. There's Amethyst, who's a couple of inches shorter than Valora, and has curly, lavender hair. There are some shimmery, hazel tattoos trailing up and down her arms, and her lipstick is a neon pink shade that almost makes you think it's glowing. Lastly, there's Petri, who's tall and trim with his dark blue hair styled into a buzz cut. His stark black tattoos covering nearly his entire body give off a sense of hostility, and honestly, cause me to feel a bit weary of him. I'm taken into another smaller room, where I'm stripped down and put into a thin-fabricated robe.

That's when we enter the 'beautifying' process. It takes a couple of hours to wax all of the hair from by body, which is done quite aggressively, by Valora herself. She also plucks my eyebrows, which stings like hell, but I keep my mouth shut. It's been awhile since I've done anything like this. My mother usually encouraged me to look nice and put together, but I could never find the motivation to do so. I wasn't trying to impress anyone. It's not even like I had anyone to impress. Petri cuts the split ends of my hair, and continues to rub something that smells like a bouquet of flowers into my scalp. I enjoy this part, only because of how remarkably relaxing he manages to do it. Amethyst files my nails, and makes them look shiny and more appealing than they had in a long time.

"Your parents must be proud to have such a beautiful daughter." It's Amethyst who speaks, and I glance over a her to see her smiling sweetly. I remain stone-faced, wondering if that were a genuine compliment, or if it was just something she told every tribute that came through here. I answer her with the slightest of smiles, but it feels difficult to even do so. I didn't feel flattered. I always thought of myself as average looking. I'd see other girls in District 1 that were always being chased after by the boys. But, I was okay with that. Boys were always the last thing on my mind, just because I had to worry about so much more than that.

The finishing touches include them scrubbing me down raw with a raspberry scented foam, leaving a tingling sensation over my skin. They all take a step back, and Valora gestures for me to sit up. The three of them study me for a minute or so, before nodding their heads toward each other and whispering in agreement. Petri takes me to wait into another room, where I'm told I'll meet my stylist. I lay down on top of a metal table, staring at the door, waiting for it to open up at any second. As it does, I quickly avert my eyes back up to the ceiling. I carefully sit back up, finally getting a better look at my stylist. He's fair skinned, in commendation to his aqua-toned eyes. Both his hair and eyebrows are dyed bleach blonde, with his hair neatly slicked back into an elegant manner.

"I'm guessing you're Rosalie, hmm?" His voice is silky and calming, which wasn't what I had anticipated. There's no Capitol accent from his tone. He sounds normal.

"Yes, sir." I reply, nodding my head once.

"Wonderful. My name is Atlas, and I'll be your stylist from now on," He shakes my hand, using a soft grip that in a way reassures me. He examines me for a moment, taking in all of my features and flaws. "I saw your Reaping on tape. It didn't seem like you were really yearning to volunteer." He doesn't sound as derogatory as it could've been. I shift uncomfortably on the table, afraid that he knew the truth behind my volunteering.

"I'm not accusing you. I couldn't blame you for not wanting to take part in it." My brows knit together, confused as to why he was telling me this. I imagined most stylists to be upbeat, and non-stop congratulating the tribute for being involved with the Games. Especially one from a Career district. But, it just goes to show; don't judge a book by it's cover.

"Well, enough chit chat. You're going to look marvelous out there."

He ends the conversation with that, and we being yet another process of readying me for the tributes parade. My makeup takes an hour, my hair takes up two hours, and I'm guided into a dress that feels as light as a feather. Once Atlas is done with the final touches, he takes a step back, studying me in admiration. Wordlessly, he places his hands atop my shoulders, carefully rotating me around so that I'm facing the mirror.

I feel my mouth fall open in surprise. The dress is a full length gown, which falls just at my ankles. The fabric is smooth and light, the ends of the gown pleated and glittering with an assortment of jewels. The pattern starts out an off-white color at the top, before slowly fading into a settling beige tone. There's a leather brown belt hooked loosely around my hips, with another main jewel laid out into the center of it. My hair is fashioned into an elegant up-do, with a couple of thin gold bands wrapped atop of my head.

And for the first time in a long time, I feel beautiful again. The only other time I've ever felt even close to pretty, was when my father was still alive. He'd always say how afraid he was of me growing up, because he wanted to protect me from any boys that tried talking to his little girl. But I was thirteen, then. I'm fifteen now, and that means I know more now, too.

"Atlas... This is stunning." I say, breathlessly gaping at myself in the mirror. His lips twist into a triumphant smile, nodding at me from the side.

This is completely different from what I had anticipated the parade costumes to look like. I thought of maybe a wide headdress, or a gown that was bedazzled in glitter or feathers. Something glamorous and over the top, but no, this was much better. It was beautiful in it's own sort of simplistic way, but the added jewels gave it the certain 'pop' that District 1 is well known for. After all, we are the luxury district.

"Your appearance harmonizes with it perfectly. I didn't want to do another ridiculous outfit that resembled the one from last year... That's just unoriginal. This is what I've been looking for, though. You're going to look terrific." I know now that just like this costume, Atlas is a one of a kind masterpiece. He's not like the other citizens from the Capitol. He's open-minded, meaning he perceives everything differently from how anyone else would. I'm beginning to grow comfortable with him.

I walk alongside Atlas and the rest of my prep team, treading down to where the opening ceremonies will be held. Luckily, Atlas had paired the gown with shoes that only had a two-inch high heel on it. Otherwise, I would've been stumbling all over the place like a total fool.

There are twelve other chariots waiting, all neatly lined up one behind another. I could already see Marvel with his stylist and prep team waiting at the first chariot. Our chariot now, to be exact. As we grow closer, I notice his costume is with mine. There's a gold band wrapped around the crown of his head, along with a bronze colored toga that has a cape trailing all the way down the left side of his body. There's multiple jewels encrusted into the bottom of the cape, and in his belt that hangs firmly around his waist. More of his body was exposed than mine was, but I was internally grateful that I wasn't going to be flaunted around like some type of prized medal. Though in my opinion, Marvel came off as something of a strong and bold leader. His stylist, Kala, begins to speak in awe with Atlas. The two of them talk to one another in hushed whispers, obviously proud of their work on Marvel and I. We climb onto the chariots, standing side by side each other. Unlike him, I'm furiously gripping the side of the chariot, thinking that if I let go then I'll fall out and humiliate myself into oblivion. Ruby walks up to us in her silver-studded high heels, moderately leaning forward and grinning joyfully.

"Face forward, shoulders back, and put on your best smile." She reminds us, to which we give her a nod of understanding.

The opening music starts playing, loudly and booming throughout the streets of the Capitol. The tall doors are opened, revealing the thousands of Capitol citizens that inherit the seats on both sides of the pavement. Since we're District 1, we get to go first and lead out the rest of the districts. I feel the chariot abruptly start moving, slightly alarming me inside. You better not fall out.
I put on the widest and most charming smile I could manage. I steadied my breathing through my nose, rapidly glancing throughout the crowds to show that I cared, or at least held some interest for them. Their roars and cheers became deafening for awhile, making me want to just run out of there and find some peace and quiet. But clearly, that wasn't an option. They seem to go berserk at Marvel and I just smiling, but in the back of my mind I know it isn't something unfamiliar. District 1 is usually the Capitol's favorite, no matter who the tributes are, or what they're wearing. I happen to set my sights onto one of the big screens set up along the street, projecting separate images of Marvel and I. For a split-second, I freeze. I don't know who I am, at first. There I am, smiling in glee all while looking absolutely... Absolutely valiant. I never saw myself this way. Not until now.

The chariot finally comes to a halt, stopping at the inner City Circle. The other districts slowly begin to flow in, and I take this chance to get a better look at my future opponents. District 2's tributes are a small, but vicious looking dark-haired girl, and a tall, burly blonde-haired boy. He gives off the impression that he could easily snap anyone's neck with his bare hands. They're dressed like gladiators, in golden armor and a matching helmet. The rest of the districts seem pretty normal. My once upbeat attitude gets knocked down a notch, when I see a little girl in District 11's chariot. I'm suddenly brought back to despising everything about this event. How could they have the heart to throw a child into this??
I direct my gaze onto District 12, who's flame-lit capes had just been extinguished on their own. For a non-Career district, I must admit, their stylist did a damn good job on the costumes.

I'm still unsure of who I could possibly make an alliance with. The one thing I know for sure, is that I will not be joining the Careers in the arena. I'll have to get the rundown on how they are, personally. It's always good to have some insight on who you're going up against.

"A rose for a Rose?" Marvel's voice pulls my attention toward him, and I notice him smiling down crookedly at me, while holding out a red rose. It doesn't seem as flirtatious as others may have interpreted the gesture, but more of a friendlier one. It takes me a second for his witty pun to deliver through my brain.

"... Oh! Because of my name.. Thank you. Very clever, by the way." I reply, laughing softly at the end. I take the long-stemmed rose into my hand, gently taking a whiff of it's fragrance. I watch as President Snow walks out onto his balcony, a delightfully fake smile curled onto his thickly enhanced lips.

"Welcome! Tributes, we welcome you. We salute your courage and sacrifice. And we wish you, Happy Hunger Games. And may the odds, be ever in your favor." President Snow greets us tributes from above. The audiences cheer loudly at his prompt welcoming speech, though it's the same exact one every year.

The ceremony is officially completed, and all of the chariots are lead into the Training Center, which will now be our living area until we enter the arena. Both Marvel and I's stylists and prep teams come rushing toward us, along with Ruby and our mentors.

"My, my! You two were so lovely out there!" Ruby squeals happily, gazing at us like we were a pair of kittens.

Gloss pulls Marvel to the side, telling him how great of a job he's done. Cashmere does the same with me, bashfully praising me on how I looked. I couldn't quite hear everything she was saying though, since I had used this chance to get a glimpse at the other tributes, again. District 2 is glaring threateningly over at 12, presumably over envy because of how sensational 12's costumes were. I catch the District 5 girl staring at me curiously, oddly enough. I could see the panic flash across her amber eyes, as I stare her right back. Don't scare her, for God's sake! I involuntarily let a smaller, genuine smile come across my mouth. She seems unfazed by it, instead directing her gaze elsewhere. She doesn't trust me, no doubt. I wouldn't trust a Career, either, so smart move on her part.

We take an elevator to reach our apartment, but it only takes us up one floor, being District 1 and all. I was glad we didn't have to go any higher than that, since I completely hated elevators. I took them a few times back home, while on the annual school field trip to the big factories around town. They always made me dizzy and nauseous for some reason. Maybe I just didn't like heights, in general.
The elevator 'Dings' and we step inside of our apartment. It's roomy, with just the right amount of furnishing and décor around the place. It isn't as stuffy as I was anticipating it to be, which is good. Cashmere and Gloss already look like they're at home, but I think indifferently of this. Sure, it is glamorous in all ways possible, but it's still not enough to make me feel at home. Nothing will ever compare to my true home.

An Avox takes me to my bedroom, which is even bigger and more done up than the one on the train. There's a queen size bed with a plush, silky looking comforter that's practically calling my name. I ignore the urge to lay down, and stride into the bathroom. I throw the remains of my parade outfit onto the rug, before stepping into the warm shower. There was a panel inside, with many settings that you could program the shower to.
For instance, the water pressure, temperature, and even shampoo. I decide not to go overboard with it, and choose a vanilla and lavender mixture of soap. The water soothes me, and for a minute, I forget that I'm here. I forget that in only a matter of days, I'll be entering a game of death. I could only pray that I wouldn't be one of them.