Hi everyone!! Thanks so much for all your nice reviews!! I really appreciate them!! 16, wow! I'm excited.
Yay, this is long chapter because I get bored when I'm sick! Please R&R!
Oh, and thanks to HalfHope, this story is going to be featured on The Hunger Games Tribute(an HG fansite!) Check it out!
Disclaimer- Nope. I don't own the characters. But I do own Prim's AWESOME dress!
I can't conjure up a word that explains the pain I am in now. Excruciating, maybe? But then I remember, this is nothing compared to the pain I could be in by the end of this week when the Games begin.
My prep team surrounds me, covering me with hot waxes and ripping off every last inch of hair on my body. Is this really necessary?
Apparently, it is.
My prep team was getting me ready for the Opening Ceremonies, which included each tribute to stand side by side with their district partner on a chariot, and face the Capitol audience to give them first impressions. Among the crowd would be sponsors, who could supply you with essential things throughout the Games, if they thought you had potential. This was your time to shine.
"Don't worry, darling, one more! You're almost done!" A plump green woman, Octavia, I think says, trying to calm me down. I nod, preparing myself for my leg hair to be uprooted.
"Ah!" I yelp, although I tried my hardest to keep it in. They all stand back and admire me, as if I were a finished piece of their artwork.
"Beautiful! Now, you don't look that horrible at all!" The man with orange hair, Flavius says before applying another fresh coat of purple lipstick. They all smile at me, and I do my best to curl the ends of my mouth up.
They apply some cool blue gel to soothe my raw skin, and I almost sigh at the relief. Yet, they still look disappointed. They must really like to see children in pain.
"Now, we can't put you in any of our exfoliating baths. It will hurt your fragile skin, and, we don't want that, do we?" Octavia asks, the ends of her sentences rising. I simply shake my head.
They converse for a second, and decide on spraying me with water with sparkles in it, making me glimmer in the light. They tend to my hair and nails, and even give me some makeup. When I'm finished, I thank them, as a signal for them to leave. But they are too dumb to catch it.
"Of course, anything for you!" I almost throw up when the other woman, Venia, pinches my cheek. They stay and talk for a while, and then eventually leave. I sigh and stand to look at myself in the long mirror.
I am amazed at my transformation. The only thing that hasn't changed is my ribs sticking out of my side. I sway back and forth to see the sparkles shine, and smile. I look beautiful. But something about my look makes me nervous. They put my hair in innocent, bouncy curls, and paint my nails a girly pink. I look young, weak, and fragile. The symbolic primrose that I am would wilt under pressure. Which it probably will. But I didn't want sponsors to see it that way. They will simply pass over my name and move on to the strong tributes, like the Careers.
I needed to stand out. These sponsors could well be the difference between my life and my death. Determined to seem strong, like Katniss, I raise my shoulders, and lift my head high. I attempt to flex whatever muscles I have, and even grunt a little. But unfortunately, this is the time my stylist decides to walk in.
He takes one look at what I'm doing and starts to laugh. At first I'm embarrassed, but then I join in with him. It feels good to laugh. Finally, he breaks the laughter.
"Hi, Primrose, I'm Cinna, your stylist." He smiles.
"Hi, Cinna. You can call me Prim." I reply to the young man.
"Prim. Now, go ahead and get your robe and sit down. I need to know some more about you."
I retrieve my robe and sit down by him on the couch. I take Cinna's appearance. He is middle height, not fat, but not thin. He was fairly plain, no fancy Capitol tattoos and coloring. He has brown hair and eyes, and light skin. But when he glances out the window, I can't help but notice the golden eyeliner he had on glint from the sunlight.
"Are you hungry?" He asks politely. I nod, because I am.
All he does is simply press a button on the side of the table in next to up, and my jaw drops. A plate of soup, rice, and fruit appears in front of me. He laughs at my reaction.
"I know. Are we really that lazy?" I smile, because he has read my mind.
All I want to do is eat it all, but I simply start by nibbling a purple berry, remembering what happened last time. Cinna and I talk for about an hour, mostly about District 12, my friends, Katniss. He seems to focus on her a lot.
"Alright, Prim. Now, in District 12, your main export it coal. Usually the outfits represent what your district makes." I nod, but I am worried, because I remember the time when out tributes were completely naked and covered in black soot. How embarrassing. And also, not very attractive.
"This year, we are going to focus on what coal once was. Plants, animals, and the remains of other living things. But they were once all alive and beautiful, just like you and Peeta."
Not for long.
"We need to show them how you are the very image of tributes. Strong, healthy, and beautiful." He explains.
I don't understand what he means. What could this costume be?
"Now close your eyes, and lift your arms." He orders me gently.
I stand and obey, and I feel a light, airy dress pour over my shoulders.
I look in the mirror and am amazed. This mirror continues to impress me. I am wearing a pastel colored green, long dress with a white vine design running up the sides. I sway around and it just barely brushes my ankles. I look stunning.
"Wow, Cinna, it's beautiful. Thank you so much." I run up and hug him, and he is at first startled, but then hugs back. His closeness comforts me.
"Anytime, little flower. Now let's get you to the chariot."
Cinna places his hand on my back and leads me the chariot in the back. Peeta is already there waiting for me, smiling as usual. He looks incredibly handsome in a neat suit with a shirt to match my pastel green dress. His tie is white with a detailed vine design atop it.
"You look pretty, Prim." He says, looking up and down me. I giggle to myself, then looking up at him to make sure he didn't notice. He doesn't and I fill with relief. I turn to compliment him,
"So do you." He laughs. What?
Then I realize, I just called Peeta Mellark pretty.
I'm mortified as he continues laughing.
"Handsome, I mean. Not pretty. Most certainly not pretty." I assure him, and I think he realizes my embarrassment and puts his hand on my shoulder.
"Thanks Prim. Don't worry, its fine." He smiles. Oh, his smiles.
I feel my pulse racing as the crowd goes silent. It nearly explodes when Peeta takes my hand. Before I know it, District 1's chariot is out and the crowd goes wild. I hear screams, cheers of their odd names, and the same for District 2's. The other chariots get mainly polite claps and occasional cheers, but they don't raise their volume again until District 11's chariot rolls out.
That's when I see the boy. He's monstrous! He's tall, oh so tall, a giant compared to the small girl standing next to him. She looks like me, but a darker version. Dark skin, hair and eyes. She smiles sweetly to the crowd and occasionally plays with the end of her fairly looking dress. Even though I haven't met her, I feel like we could be friends. How could I have missed her when I saw the Reapings?
Then I remember, I was sick last night. This was my first time to see my competition.
But this girl doesn't feel like competition. She feels like she could be a friend.
She can't. You're going to be thrown into an arena to fight her, remember? You can't get attached.
It tears at me. All of the happiness about the way I look just flushes away when I see her, but I can't let it show. Our chariot was about to enter the eyes of the Capitol.
I grip Peeta's hand tighter, afraid I could fall over from nerves. He says something to me but I don't catch it. We are now in the City Circle, and everyone is just back to giving polite claps. But then I feel it.
A light, misty water is being sprayed from the bottom of the chariot and up on to us. I'm confused, but then I see that the vine on Peeta's tie had grown and wrapped around me. The bottom of my dress had been crinkled to form a beautiful pink rose. A primrose. I lift my head up and smile. I have a new sense of confidence.
I always knew Cinna would have us be in just pretty outfits. He had made us unforgettable. We have turned into a flower, bright and happy. We weren't just two sunken kids from District 12. We had blossomed and were ready to fight.
I can almost see the sponsors writing my name, clear and neat on their list. Primrose Everdeen was ready to fight.
A/N: Yay for Prim! The link for her dress is on my page if you want to see it! Thanks, & review!