dnf, but it's hunger games

-five

"you look amazing, Dream." Charlie says, standing back from me and eyeing his work.

initially, i thought that he was going to be the one dressing me for the interviews, because i hadn't even met my stylist yet. but apparently the tight button-up and wide-mouthed dress pants that Charlie's shoved me into is just to meet my stylist.

i check myself out in the full length mirror mounted on my wall. he's got some Capitol knack in him, that's for sure, but i don't see the point when i'm about to get fully rebuffed by some random person in about two minutes.

the train pulls up to the back side of a very, very tall building. the corners are sharp, and the whole thing is pretty much shaded wraparound glass. it casts such a shadow over our puny little train, i get shivers through my shirt.

me and Tommy are brought in together, but quickly shoved into separate elevators with a peacekeeper in each corner. the white-uniformed man in mine politely leans forward and presses the button "11". immediately, the elevator box begins gliding smoothly upwards.

"oh jeez. this is terrifying." i mutter as my stomach drops to my toes. the peacekeeper remains stone-cold silent, unimpressed. "aaaand you don't care."

finally, the elevator doors slide open and reveal a huge, sweeping floor, chopped off by several rooms. i slowly take a step onto the linoleum, the doors closing behind me and slowly sinking back down.

i'm left alone in a little living room-esque area, all cold and quiet and stiff. the couch looks unused, the carpet untouched. perfect.

a man, lanky and tall but still not taller than me, swoops into the room silently. he stops when he sees me, tracing my frame with wide eyes, before grabbing me by the wrist and leading me to a separate room not far off.

i follow with easy compliance until we're met with another person; this time, it's a woman, and she's much less formal than my button up and slacks.

she turns to me, flicking a slate of long, blonde hair over her shoulder with a grimace. her skin, like most Capitol-borne, has a little bit of a pink tint to it, but her makeup and plasticizing isnt as extreme as the other cases i've seen.

"oh! oh my god, you must be Dream, yeah?" she exclaims. my mind feels numb and fuzzy when the silent man releases my wrist and the woman grabs it and shakes my hand.

so, this is all real. it isn't a show, it isn't a hoax. i'm actually going to the Hunger Games. and i'm going to die, dressed up and putting on a pretty little show for the Capitol.

"my name is Alyssa. it's nice to meet you." she says sweetly. her voice is like sugar, smooth and perfect.

"D-Dream." i stammer. this is terrifying.

she looks me up and down with an inspector's eye. i feel extremely self conscious at how little i've showered, how i don't know how to properly be clean.

but she isn't mean. she takes my hand and traces the scratches and scars from the branches and bristles in the fields, grazing them with her fingertips.

"let's get you cleaned up." she mutters. i nod and follow her to another room further back, where the huge ceiling-to-wall windows have shrunk and darkened slightly.

the silent man from before, an Avox i assume, glides in and begins to help her. i feel extremely vulnerable when they strip away all my clothes and make me raise my arms. Alyssa walks around me, unfazed by my bare skin, and hums.

"he's not that bad. Callahan, let's just whip up a level 1."

the Avox, Callahan, nods smartly and quickly walks away. Alyssa drapes a thin robe over my shoulders and guides me to a shower, closing the door behind me and pressing several buttons on the glass.