hook, line, sinker.

three.

Tigris was the first person to make Mags feel like more than just another tribute. She had a way of making Mags feel safe, and that was the most wonderful feeling in the world.

"I'm sure you already know the games are a lot different this year. The head gamemaker has an apprentice with a lot of new ideas, and Gaul is eager to use all of them. Tonight, I'm supposed to make you look pretty for the world to see. You and your district partner are just meant to wave at the crowd from a horse drawn carriage then come back here for dinner." They were on the fourth floor of an apartment building, and Mags was yet to see Grove since the train.

"When will I meet the other tributes?" She asked, and Suede huffed.

"I told you on the train, you'll meet them at training tomorrow and for the next couple of days." He explained impatiently, and Mags nodded.

"How do sponsorships work?" At the question, Suede's eyes lit up.

"So during the interviews with Lucky Flickerman, citizens from the Capitol are invited to send cash and place bets on their favourite tribute. During the games, the mentors of each tribute use the donations to send various items. In the past years it's only been food and water, but I heard this year they're mixing it up." Suede walked around the room as he spoke, and Tigris sighed.

"Last year, the drones used to carry items in were incredibly unstable, one was even used to kill a tribute. This year, they require the stylist and mentor to agree before sending in packages. The drones have also changed, but your fate isn't just in Suede's hands now, it's also in mine." Tigris corrected Suede, who shrugged.

"We'll be there the entire time, Margaret. You're never truly alone, in the arena. Unless you climb into a vent or something. The whole of District 4 will be rooting for you." Suede said, and Mags finally found comfort in her mentor's words.

"I'll make a donation for you as well. Not because mentoring is in my curriculum, but because you deserve a chance of winning. It's a lot harder to win without sponsors, don't forget that." Suede became serious very quickly, and Mags tried not to be disheartened by his words. If no one liked her, then it would be impossible for her to win the game.

Impossible to see Pa and Ridge again.

"Suede, I think you'd better leave. It's time to get Margaret ready for the show." Tigris said, and Suede nodded, waving before he stepped out of the apartment, the door closing behind him.

"It's Mags." Mags said quietly, and Tigris nodded.

"Okay, Mags, it's time to make you look even more beautiful." Tigris stood up and gestured for Mags to follow her, and the two went into a room that Mags hadn't actually noticed before. It was filled with fabrics in every shade of blue, and in an odd way, it felt like home.

In the centre of the room was a mannequin who was dressed to the nines. A long gown of an ocean coloured green, with layers of blue evident underneath. A train of dark blue fabric fell behind it, and it looked beautiful. It reminded Mags of a beautiful sea creature, and it amazed her how much she yearned for home at this very moment.

"You're dressing me as a mermaid." Mags realised, and Tigris clapped her hands.

"Oh, I'm so glad you get it! I even have a wonderful pearl tiara for you, I'm sure you'll get many, many sponsors. You'll wear this dress again on the final night, the one with your interview with Lucky, the host." Tigris circled the dress, her eyes darting up and down, as though she was looking for a flaw, a mistake she had missed previously. She couldn't find one.

"Mermaids and sirens are so similar. Don't let them forget which one you choose to be. What do you think?" Tigris turned around to search Mags' face for any proof of disdain.

"It's certainly interesting. I'm sorry, Tigris, you seem like a nice person, but I just don't care about this dress, or the parade or whatever else there is. In a week I could be dead, I need you and Suede to figure out how the hell I can survive." Mags finally snapped, and Tigris' face fell.

"You're right, I'm sorry. I'll talk to Suede during the parade, and try to figure out a game plan," Tigris offered, and Mags shrugged. Like she had a choice. "But Mags, let me be clear. What happens in that arena has nothing to do with us. We could put a sword in your hand, but we can't make you kill. It is all up to you. There's something about the arena that could destroy your chances in the first five minutes of the games." Tigris fell silent, and Mags stared at her, waiting for her to continue.

"This year, for the first time ever, the games will be held in a different arena. All I know is that it's inspired by nature. They began constructing it a couple of months after the bombing of the previous arena. The eleventh annual hunger games will go down in history. Don't become another fallen tribute without a name." Mags couldn't breathe. She was actually going to die before she got to the arena of a fucking heart attack.

"What the hell do you mean?" She eventually asked, and Tigris patted her back.

"That's all I know. It's a surprise arena. Mags, you need to understand that this is the biggest advantage in the entire game. None of the other mentors, stylists or tributes know this, and when they arrive in the arena you are the only one who will be prepared. You need to figure out how to use that to your advantage." Tigris reached out to touch a sleeve of the gown, and looked back to Mags.

"The first minute of the game determines everything, Margaret Flanagan. Don't waste your only chance."