𝐇𝐢𝐬 𝐖𝐞𝐚𝐤𝐧𝐞𝐬𝐬.Cato Hadley

4.

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𝐓𝐡𝐞 𝐩𝐚𝐫𝐚𝐝𝐞.
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"There it is. It's huge! It's incredible!" Peeta looks out the window and judging by his words I understand that we have reached the Capitol.

I go to him to see what he saw so well, and I understand that there is a reason for his excitement. It's indeed huge and everything looks very expensive. I find myself with my mouth open, then Peeta looks at me and laughs and I give him a small smile.

"I knew you'd like it!" Effie tells us.

"I'm sure they will like the arena too." Haymitch reminds us that we didn't come here for a vacation but for something entirely different. This makes me sit back down but Peeta doesn't seem to be listening to what Haymitch is saying, at all.

He waves at all these people and smiles at them like they won't want him dead in two weeks. But I notice that they also smile at him and some even call his name. Do they already know all of our names or is it just that he made the biggest impression on them?

"He knows what he's doing," Haymitch tells and hints to me that Peeta has a better chance of winning sponsors than I do.

Wonderful.

The people at the Capitol give me a bad first impression. They are all dressed in such bright clothes and have such heavy makeup that I'm sure their real faces have nothing to do with who they are now. Even older people wear makeup, whether they are male or female. One more thing that reminds me is that the Capitol people are out of their minds.

~•~

I'm in the Remake Center and I can tell that the process is very painful and long, but Haymitch advised me to be good with my prep team because they will help me to make a good impression to the people.

So far, they were bathing me and I didn't like it, for sure. I'm not used to someone seeing me naked or even touching me. Haymitch warned us that this was part of the procedures they would be doing, including waxing, makeup, getting my nails polished, and doing my hair.

I can say that the waxing is the worst part. I've never had anything like this done to me and I have to say that it hurt a lot. I wonder if they do the same thing to the boys or just the girls. But my thoughts are distracted by the whispering between the people on my prep team.

"What's that?" I ask.

"We're just saying we might need to hose you down again before we take you to Cinna." A person, I think named Flavius, answers me. They treat me arrogantly as if they are better than me, but I know very well that they have no brains in their heads.