THE PLAYERS

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"I look like a shiny wheat straw."

Calisor, for the very last time, took a deep breath. He'd been trying to wrangle Lara into her dress for the tribute reveal parade. So far, she'd tried to rip it, throw it in the elevator, and get in the shower with it.

Unfortunately for her, the dress was made of incredibly durable material and it was waterproof. And one of the other stylists found it in the elevator before it could get lost.

"Why can't you be more cooperative like Octavian?" he asked, sticking a pin into her hair.

At the mention of her male co-tribute, Lara let out an unladylike snort.

"As if Octavian hasn't already tried to throw his suit out the window."

At that, Cal's eyes widened and he instantly rushed to Octavian's room. Lara rolled her eyes as she heard the distant argument commence.

She got out of her chair and removed the pins Cal had just put in. If she hated anything, it was getting dressed up. She liked her hair natural and her clothes comfortable.

But Cal liked to make the most elaborate clothes for them. He'd designed a shimmery gold dress to represent the grain in her district. Her hair held golden pins that looked like sun rays sparsely stuck into her dark locks.

Before she could remove any more, Cal came sprinting back in and swatted her hands away. He also had Octavian trapped by holding his wrist and dragging him towards her.

Both tributes huffed as they were surrounded by a hoard of stylists desperately trying to fix their makeup and outfits. It was all a blur of heels, sparkles, and sequins up until they were shoved out of the apartment and escorted down to where the carriages waited.

At that point, the stylists disappeared and Cal was the only one left. He glanced between them and gave them a tight lipped smile.

"Remember to wave and smile. You're Capitol darlings and need to act like it. The more sponsors, the better."

"We know, Cal," Octavian sighed, "It's not our first games."

The stylist sighed and nodded. He wished them good luck before leaving the two alone.

Lara glanced at Octavian, seeing his worry. He had been a recent victor, only winning the games three years ago. Lara had been his mentor and the two were close.

He wasn't one to talk much and he kept his opinions to himself. Lara, on the other hand, said nothing but what she thought was the truth.

"What's stopping us from running away before the games even start?" he asked quietly.

"Oh, just about everyone and everything in the Capitol, including peacekeepers and President Snow."

He sighed and bit the inside of his cheek. Lara looked around as the other tributes gathered by their carriages. She sought out for a particular person she was eager to see. But she didn't see him right away, making her face fall in disappointment.

"Lara Foraye."

At the sound of her name with that familiar voice, she spun on her heel.

And there he was.

His classic smile rested on his face as he came closer. She fought her own grin as she stepped forward to meet him.

"You look as beautiful as ever," he flirted.

She rolled her eyes playfully, "And you're as cheeky as ever, Finnick Odair."

He laughed and wrapped his arms around her in a hug. She reciprocated and let him lift her off the ground, which he only did when they hadn't seen each other in awhile. He knew she was wary about physical touch, but she always allowed him to be close.

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