THE 150th HUNGER GAMES

The Remake Center

Armada Semper's (District 7) P.O.V:

I'm surprised that I even need a makeover at all. I'm so pretty as it is, this remodeling must make me the most beautiful girl ever.

I flip my hair back as I stand in front of a large mirror. I am so beautiful. I wonder why I ever didn't want to do this. If I can get this pretty just from a few petty prep team members, I can't imagine what my stylist will do for me. Ah, the dresses he will design! I can't wait to wear them!

"Servant, get me some water," I command a member of my prep team. I don't know their name; they are below me, so I don't have to.

It's nice to have them actually do the things for me. Ugh, my little brat of a sister, Navie, she would never do things for me. Such a repulsive little thing. I hope she grows out of it and that she's just going through a persistent stage of her young life.

"Armada, your stylist awaits you," another member of my personal prep team informs me.

"Tell him I'll be a minute," I brush them off. "And to you I'm Madame Semper."

I take a sip of my water, which the other woman had delivered me. "No. Ice?" I say icily to her. "This water is WARM!" I toss the cup behind me, managing to not only shatter the glass cup but drench the third member of my prep team.

The second woman comes back up to me. "Your stylist requests your company, now, Armad- I mean, Madame Semper." She has a slight tremble to her voice.

"Ugh. Fine!" I roll my eyes, and put my hands on my hips as I enter the room with my stylist.

"Greetings, Armada. My name is Zaq." The man nods to me.

"Ugh, Madame Semper to you! My prep team is just like you, they all call me by my first name, even though I am above them! Don't they know what's proper?! And they even did my braid poorly!" I complain as I pull out a loose strand of hair on purpose.

"Armada, I need to discuss some Opening Ceremony costumes with you."

"Madame Semper, did you mean? And I want a very flirtatious dress. Conversation done!" I stand up to leave. Zaq begins to protest, but I cut him off. "Make it red, no sleeves, tight fitting. Boom, dress!" I begin to walk out the door.

"Armada, darling, that doesn't relate to your district-"

"It's Madame Semper, and I am getting a red, flirty dress no matter what!" I insist. "Now goodbye!"