Prim's Games

Chapter 3-PRIM

I wince as the Capitol stylists pluck at my eyebrows with tweezers, as if odd eyebrows will kill me during the Games. They've already scrubbed off all the grime from my body, manicured my nails, been rubbed down with a soothing lotion and more forms of torture. Apparently my stylist won't see me until I've been treated for this stuff.

"Sweetie, you look...cute!" Octavia, a stylist with green skin squeals. Cute?! Sweetie?! I want to yell at her, but I compose myself, telling myself it's just the stress of the upcoming Games getting to me, and say "Thank you. I can't wait to meet my stylist." The mention of my stylist seems to perk them up, because their faces light up.

"Oh honey, Cinna's gonna make you look absolutely gorgeous!" sighs Venia, a woman with aqua hair and gold tattoos.

"Let's get Cinna now!" says Flavius, a man with orange hair and purple lipstick as they all dash out. I sigh a little. They're nice but so shallow. Katniss would laugh at how they are the classic stereotype of Capitol brats. But I know that they're trying to help me, in the way they think is right, and I'm grateful because some help is far better than no help at all.

Suddenly, the door opens and Cinna comes in. After seeing so many people with their odd implants and alterations, Cinna is shockingly normal. He's wearing gold eyeliner, but other than that his look appears completely natural.

"Hello Primrose. I'm Cinna, your stylist." He doesn't even use the fake Capitol accent. I find myself liking him so far. I hope he's going to be a little more creative with our costumes than just coal miners' outfits.

"Call me Prim. Out of curiosity, are you new? I haven't seen you before." I would definitely have remembered such a plain face in the Capitol's brightness.

"Yeah. I asked for District 12, because I have a new idea for them. Come with me to the sitting room over there and we can talk about it." Wait he asked for District 12? We're the least desirable district, which is why they'd probably give us the new stylist. I push the thought out of my mind for now and follow him to a room where lunch waits. It looks amazing. It's chicken in some kind of sauce with oranges on pure white rice, a salad and a smooth, creamy pudding.

"I know you probably think we're spoiled brats." says Cinna, and I feel guilty about letting that show.

"No, no it's okay. I don't mind." I kind of do actually, but I don't want to be mean.

"Okay if you say so," he says, but he winks, making me wonder how much he really sees "Anyway for the costume you know it's tradition to wear something representative of the district's flavor."

"So coal miner jumpsuits?" I ask. Maybe he's not as creative as I thought.

"Not quite. We burn coal, so that's the theme I have in mind. Are you afraid of fire,?" He says. Once I shake my head, he says "Good. Try not to develop a sudden fear of it okay?" I grin, and after a few hours, I'm in an outfit that might either make me a sensation with the viewers or kill me. It's a simple black skintight unitard with lace up black ankle boots. Simple enough, except Cinna plans to light it on fire.

"It's not real flame," he claims when I protest. "Just synthetic fire that's been tested. You'll be fine." I'm still a little scared all the same. Soon, my makeup is on-not much, upon my request, it's just a touch up-and I'm ready. I'm taken down to the Remake Center, which is a stable that the tributes leave from. I find Archer there, dressed identically. Cinna directs us onto the chariot and fusses with our position, until he says "There. You guys are ready. Don't be afraid."

Too soon, District 11 has gone out and it's our turn. "Are you nervous?" I whisper to Archer as Cinna starts the faux flames.

"Yes. I don't think much of our chances at survival already. Going into the arena with burns if the fire doesn't work...It would be suicide." Cinna finishes and we're on fire, but it only tickles a little, and it doesn't burn. I release the breath I didn't even know I'd been holding, and Cinna yells something at us.

"What'd he say?" I ask.

"I think he asked us to...hold hands." Archer says blushing. I don't say it out loud, but I'm glad, and not just because holding hands will keep us from falling. We go out, and the people of the Capitol go crazy, calling our names and throwing flowers at us. I see us on the huge television screen, and we look great. Suddenly, the flames go out, and the cheering turns to confused whispering.

"What do we do?! Our fire is out!" I hiss to Archer. I'm really scared because the one chance I had at being sponsored enough to win is gone.

"It's no big deal. Smile and act like it was supposed to happen. Our confusion will make it look worse than it is. At least our grand entrance hopefully captured the attention of a few people." He whispers back.

"Thanks. I can't believe I didn't think of that. Without you here, I might be a total mess right now," I whisper, blushing a little.

"Anytime." And we smile and wave at the crowd, but the spark of energy we created is gone, and since their reaction is now muted, we may as well have been wearing coal miner jumpsuits. I'll be lucky if any of the rich ones remember my name, much less sponsor me.