Fluid Heart, Firey Soul (Peeta Mellark x Reader)

Chapter 4 - Opening Ceremonies

As I step off of the train, a wall of flashing cameras and eager onlookers surround me. In the Capitol, even the most ordinary tasks are deemed worthy of attention. It's like I've become famous simply because I was chosen to enter the arena. I keep a smile plastered on my face, knowing that any hint of vulnerability could give my opponents an advantage; I don't need them to perceive any sort of weakness in me— I'll be facing them soon and I can't afford for them to think I'm an easy target.

Victoria guides me through the clamoring crowd, her hand securely resting on my back as a shield against the stretching arms. It's almost as if she fears letting me go will cause me to be consumed by the eager masses. I assume Finnick is doing the same with Fletcher, guiding him to his room while Victoria takes me to mine.

The door opens with a soft creak, revealing my prep room— every district boy and girl gets one to themselves. The stark white walls reflect the fluorescent lights, casting a cold and sterile aura over the space. Every mirror, every surface, seems to magnify every flaw and imperfection, begging to be highlighted and fixed. "Ah, welcome dear!" a voice trills in that unmistakable high-pitched Capitol accent. I can't help but find it amusing and a small laugh escapes me.

"This is our District 4 Gem right here!" Victoria beams, pushing me forward as if I were her prized possession at a market, some remarkable achievement. I'm torn between disgust and a strange sense of pride at being showcased in such a way. Victoria and the woman, who I assume is a part of my prep team, exchange air kisses on each cheek in a practiced manner. "It's an absolute pleasure to meet you, (Y/N)," she greets me with a wide smile, her heavily made-up eyes sparkling with excitement. "I'm Seraphina Everbright, and let me tell you, I am the best in the business. I'll be taking care of... well everything that needs taking care of." She gestures vaguely in my direction, her lack of discretion making me feel like nothing more than a commodity. As Seraphina extends her hand for a shake, I put on my best smile and clasp her hand with mine.

Seraphina is the epitome of Capitol eccentricity, outshining even Victoria in her ostentatiousness. Her skin is an unnatural shade of delicate pink, as if she had been dipped in a vat of wax. And atop her head sits an impressive tower of hair, dyed a bright and eye-catching green. It had to be at least a foot tall. Her eyelashes are a bold magenta, reaching up to her forehead if she dared to lift her gaze. Every aspect of her attire is exaggerated and extravagant, from her lime green dress with its puffy shoulders to the shining jewels adorning her fingers and ears. "Charmed," she utters in a clipped tone, her eyes taking in my appearance with a critical gaze. The departure of Victoria, is a clear indication that I'm in for a difficult time.

"So, darling, you do look quite stunning. "It's just such a shame that I have to wash off your makeup," Seraphina sighs with a tinge of exasperation. "I've already heard some murmurs about you. Quite the entrance from the train." A smirk plays on her lips as she speaks, clearly relishing in any gossip or scandal surrounding my arrival.

"Really?" I respond, both curious and surprised. My eyebrows raise in disbelief; I hadn't anticipated people to start talking so soon. But then again, if they're already buzzing now, maybe I'll get even more attention once Seraphina works her magic.

"Yes," she confirms, a small smile on her face. "Most tributes don't step off the train looking half as polished as you. They usually wait for their prep teams to do the work. Keep this up and I can see you attracting sponsors before long." I manage a weak "thanks," trying to contain my nerves and take her words as encouragement.

Seraphina motions for me to strop out of my clothing. Hesitant at first, feeling exposed in this unfamiliar room, I comply. No cameras are watching me for once. I shed my clothing and lay bare on the table's cold, hard surface. Seraphina takes charge, washing and scrubbing my skin vigorously, almost as if she's trying to uncover some sort of secret beneath the surface. The scrubbing feels relentless, leaving my skin tingling and sensitive.