The Unmatched Beauty (Cato Hadley) - Currently being Rewritten -

Douze

"I don't like him." Marvel helped me up on the chariot, and I gratefully took his hand.

I cocked my head to the side, obviously confused. "Who? The boy from 4?"

He let out a dry laugh. "No, Nini. I'm talking about Cato."

I rolled my eyes at that. "Because he couldn't remember your name? Oh grow up. He did that on purpose to hurt your male pride. By actually getting mad, it's working, Marvy."

He rose an eyebrow at the nickname I've given him, and even I have to reluctantly agree that it was, indeed, pretty terrible. He then rolled his eyes and shook his head.

"Whatever. Just, act pretty, get us sponsors, do your best impression of Glimmer, I don't know."

Ouch. That hurt. Not the Glimmer comment, obviously, but the "ooh, look, you've gotta be a ditz for the Games".

"Thanks Marvel. Appreciate it. Remind me to do your makeup next time so that you don't get offended by my superior good looks."

He laughed and patted my hair, mumbling about being sorry, and me not understanding "hungry looks". I didn't even get time to question him about that, as our chariot lurched forward, commencing the parade.

It was blinding at first, too much light for my liking. And then, a sea of dyed hair filled my vision. Deafening cheers drowned out my own thoughts. Almost mechanically, I started to wave, a bit unsure of myself.

I peeked to look at Marvel, seeing him wave his arms widely, smiling and cheering with the crowd.

I followed suit, blowing kisses and giggling as a man fell over, trying to catch an imaginary kiss. People started throwing flowers, and I collected a few, placing them in my hair, like I had done when first arriving in the Capitol.

I caught Marvel looking at me, and he laughed. A genuine one, and I stuck my tongue out.

They were yelling our names. Screaming it even. Dozens of voice called us out. "Marvel! Genevieve!" I could hear a few cry out "Cato!" and "Clove!" but we had the majority of the crowd cheering for us.

I was buying into it, and I would be lying if I said I didn't enjoy it. Because I did. I enjoyed my name being called out. I enjoyed my face being adored, plastered on all the big banners beside Marvel's.

But I didn't have that much time to enjoy it, because the last chariot went out. 12's chariot. Katniss' name replaced mine. Katniss' face replaced mine. The girl was on fire. Literally.

I continued waving and smiling, a few people still showering me with their love, but the attention had been robbed from me.

A sharp nudge was felt at my side. I glared at Marvel, who had just elbowed me.

"Stop pouting. You're the star. Not her."

I lightly stomped on his foot, my heel digging into his toes, and continued on with the show, basking in the satisfying wince coming from my District partner.

I had already ruled Katniss as a threat since the Reaping. I had dreamt of her killing me. And now I had seen her taking the spotlight from me. What more could Katniss do now?

Do I even want to know the answer?