MPHFPC ➵ The Hunger Games AU (DISCONTINUED)

Chapter 6

.☆ POV- Millard

I fought the urge to cover my arms over my body as I stood naked in the center of a room. I was waiting for the stylists to come and decide an effective way to torture me. How long had it been? A few minutes, I was sure, but it felt like a crapton longer.

"Coming, coming!" came a throaty voice, followed by some crooked coughs and the thudding of footsteps.

A man was pushed into the room, making me flinch. Two other people followed him, one presumably being the woman who shoved him inside.

"Sorry, I'm late I guess," he grunted, shooting a dirty look at the woman, who gave a sheepish smirk.

I mumbled a brief, "No, it's fine..." and he shrugged, walking closer to me and inspecting my body.

"Name's Kim," he said subtly. I nodded mildly.

As soon as his gaze had scanned every square inch of my bare skin, he stepped backward and stared at me with his arms crossed. He whispered something to the woman, who bobbed her head in agreement, and then they left, and I was alone to theorize about what they would do to me.

.☆ POV- Bronwyn

"Well?" the man said, turning me around to face a mirror.

I was a tree.

I wasn't sure exactly what I'd been expecting, but it wasn't a tree. District 7 had been dressing up as trees for the Games for who knows how long, but perhaps it was too bold of me to assume they'd change things up for once.

It looked awfully ridiculous. But... weren't we all bound to look ridiculous? I wasn't really on the level of embarrassment at this point.

I nodded as enthusiastically as my hesitant body would allow. "It looks great," I assured him, forcing a weak smile.

"Lovely!" He clapped his hands and scampered off to collect something briskly. As quickly as he left, he reappeared and slipped an actually quite pretty leaf headdress on my head.

As much as I didn't like dressing up, I could appreciate that element. I still hated the costume. But I could deal with the headwear alone. It reminded me of peace. Not that there was any left of it anymore, really. But the

.☆ POV- Enoch

I frowned into the mirror. Leaves and vines were weaved into my blond hair, which they'd decidedly kept messy for effect. Elements of crops were revealed to be all throughout the outfit. What was I looking at?

"How'd we do?" my stylist said, then laughed, as if the idea of his costume being anything less than the best of the best was outrageous. Sick joke.

I didn't answer for a moment, glaring at my reflection. "If you have no respect for my dignity, then sure, it's fine," I spat. I wasn't quite sure why I hated it so much. It was a simple off-white gown-like piece with the flower crown and agricultural foods every here and there. Altogether, it was actually pretty, and some small part of me must have adored it. But it reminded me too much of District 11. Far too much. Watching starved people get hanged for sneaking crops to feed their families. Working every waking hour, through thick and thin, whether sick or weak or young or old. Being put through pain every day just to avoid punishment.

My emotions shouldn't have been triggered by the thought of District 11. Of course it was supposed to remind me of District 11. It was supposed to represent District 11, for heaven's sake!

He looked taken aback but quickly recovered. "Well!" He gritted his teeth, a look of pure disgust dawning in his eyes. Jeez. Some people take their work way too far.

"I'm just being honest," I snapped defensively.

He just huffed and crossed his arms, strutting out of the room. I swallowed and wiped my sweaty hands on the gown. Yeah, I was scared. A lot more scared than I'd ever admit. I had the right to be scared, after all of this crap. After all this stupid country had done for me.

Now I was a sitting duck, waiting to be forced into an unwanted game of kill-or-be-killed.

My pitiful thoughts were only interrupted by a woman sticking her head in the room. "Come on out!" she called. "We're to head off to the ceremony shortly!"

Shortly? Great. I dragged myself out the door, watching for the other District 11 tribute. I couldn't remember her name, which was probably bad considering the small population of District 11 and the fact that she was one of the 23 people going into the arena to fight to the death against me.

Soon enough, she raced over to me and my stylists, her shoulder-length hair bobbing up and down as she ran. "Hh, sorry for being- oh, we goin' off already?" She was adorned in a similar outfit to mine, but with a faded blue fabric tucked over her dress.

"Yeah, we goin' off already," chimed one of the stylists, then laughed at her own joke, as if this was one of the funniest things known to mankind.

And it was such a stupid moment, so foreign to the situation, that I found myself laughing too.