Of Victors and Tributes

Chapter 35: The Last Celebrations

The last three districts I encounter aren't as painful as any of the previous ones. District Three is close to home, cold with a few factories that blow dark smoke into the air as we drive through it. The people there don't seem to mind my appearance one way or another, maybe because their boy died in the bloodbath and I fed the girl once. District 2 is especially angry with me, likely because their tributes didn't make it as far as they usually do, and Meadow and I were the ones to take out their boy.

And that leaves District 1, one of the richest if not the richest district in Panem. Silver was killed by Axel during the plan to take out the Careers' food, and Spark was speared through the head by Pearl. Nevertheless, the people there seem pretty happy to see me. I guess just being the victor is enough in their books. Since last year's victor was Augustus Braun from District One, we have a friendly photoshoot which I find to be extremely awkward. Augustus is polite though, and regards me as a friend, saying that we are one in the same now and he will be looking forward to seeing me next year during the Games. I see why he's presented as a 'reconciliation between the districts,' as he seems to be such a nice guy.

    Then I'm finally done touring the districts, and it's time to go to the Capitol. As our train chugs along, headed towards the worst place in Panem in my opinion, everybody from the Capitol that is staying on the train tries to excite me.

    "It really is quite amazing, Taylor. The Capitol's most elite citizens will be in attendance," Koi tells me as all of us sit together in the living room-ish cart.

    "Don't forget the photographers!" Venus cries out, brushing her fingers through her hair like she's about to have her picture taken.

    "And the interviewers," Satine adds dreamily, staring off into space. I wonder if any of the interviewers or photographers will actually take the time to speak with my prep team.

    "Gamemakers, too," Angora says, looking at Satine and Venus. Both of them nod frantically, but return to their separate day dreams of fame. I sigh, leaning back on the couch.

    "Fun," I reply half-heartedly, but it sounds like hell, especially the Gamemakers. I'll have to meet Sequoia Flair again, surely, and I probably won't be able to get away without talking to President Snow once or twice. The thought makes me so anxious that I decide to head to bed for the night.

    In the morning, after a brief interview with Caesar Flickerman, I am once again assaulted by my prep team and Farah. Apparently rewearing clothes once I've already been seen in them is a big no-no. They decide to go all out with my outfit, to really illuminate the nickname I've gained; I'm dressed in all gold. Shiny gold pants that are tucked in gold boots that go up my calves, and the boots themselves are lined with metallic golden gems. Then there's my undershirt, which is a soft yellow and reminds me painfully of the shirt I wore in the arena. The jacket is reminiscent of the robe I wore during the Chariot Rides, long and flowing and painted with little white designs. Every single article of clothing is made of a different fabric, which I guess is impressive. They put only a little makeup on my skin but I'm forced to wear white lipstick.

    Looking at myself in the mirror, I think that I've never seen anything more grotesque. But when Farah says, "What do you think?" I tell her that I like it.

    "This is so exciting," Koi says as we walk along the path towards the President's mansion. Hundreds of people have come to meet us, dressed in a variety of ridiculous outfits. I spot one person who almost looks like they've tried to make a pocket watch costume. I look away from the little girl dressed head to toe in pearls.

    "They've been waiting ten years for this," Cecelia tells me, meaning how long our Capitol escorts have waited for another victor. Cecelia is dressed in a light pink dress that has gold feathers flowing on it, golden high heels on her feet. I can tell that she was kind of forced to match me.