The Incoming Storm: The Tale of the 325th Hunger Games

Chapter 11

 We climb into the goldenrod limousine, which is surprisingly spacious inside. There is a long plush couch and a drink machine that sits waiting with several fizzing drinks for us to drink. We each share one and Maizer says a toast, "To Amey and Bran, for the best of luck in your scores," he says.

"And may the odds be ever in your favor," Quin finishes.

We clink glasses and sip as the long vehicle pulls out of the garage onto the loop in the District Plaza. We are driven out into the streets of the Capitol and are surrounded by swaths of people who have come to catch a glimpse of the colored limousines with tinted windows carrying the beloved tributes. Right now, all over the country, people are watching the caravan of limousines taking us to Heavensbee Hall, for the First Look. The first time everyone gets to see us up close and personal.

Clio gives us a few last-minute tips for tonight, "Remember, the beginning will be appetizers and you will meet your district's top sponsors from last year. Then there will be a brief time when the sponsors will mingle with you, and finally, dinner will be served and the sponsors will choose who to sit with. Then at the end of the night, all 40 of them will select one tribute to give a point for their score."

In the distance, I can see the ornate Heavensbee Hall, where the banquet is always held. Hundreds of people have gathered as well as a dozen camera crews, everyone has their eyes glued to the First Look. I imagine Farro at home, waiting to see me for the first time in almost a week. I will look unrecognizable, my hair done and makeup coating my face.

For the audience, after the first look, they will watch a recap of the training scores from last night as well as a few interviews with the gamemakers, and then it will switch over to a recap of the previous year's Hunger Games. After that, it will be time for a few interviews with the sponsors, who will have just completed their mixer. From there they will transition to a talk show dedicated to betting on the betting odds. And finally, the sponsors will be able to give their first impressions, where they will award a singular tribute with a point towards their Tribute Score. It's quite a bit to take in, but for me, it will just be a fancy Capitol dinner talking with their strange citizens.

Our limousine pulls into the line of tribute limos, we are directly behind the bright purple District 8 limo and being trailed closely by District 10's orange one. In the distance, I see the District 1 tributes exiting their bright pink limo, waving to the crowd. Cameras flash and the people cheer, I see the girl's outfit which is a glass textured red romper, and the boy's teal jacket.

I watch the District 2 tributes, then so on until District 8. I see Spoola exit the limousine with a floor-length gown dyed all the colors of the rainbow, then I see Ross wearing a lavender suit. Now it is our turn, I focus hard on not tripping and falling in the middle of the runway. Thankfully, I make it out of the limousine without a major incident. The crowd is going wild, I hear my name being called out, which surprises me.

I smile and wave to the crowd, flashes of light leave blotches on my vision. I maintain my smile and wave while moving into the entrance just like Clio instructed me. Inside, I am greeted by a Capitol attendant, and once Bran comes inside he takes us into the banquet hall. There are twelve tables situated around the room, and the walls are surrounded by avoxes ready for everything we ask. I'm sure that hidden behind the service doors are several peacekeepers in case there is an incident between tributes or worse, tribute and Capitol citizens.

We take our seats at the District 9 table, each table has a miniature wheat stook as its centerpiece. I look around the room to the other tables, the rainbow crystals on the District 1 table, the spheres of fabric on Spoola and Ross' table, and the sleek black metal one on the table from 6. After a short while, all of the tributes have entered, and just as the District 12 tributes take their seat at their table decorated with a shiny black crystal centerpiece, all of our mentors enter in a line. They range in age, the youngest is Rooter Cane, last year's victor who is only 18, while the oldest, Liliana Finch from 12, is in her 60s.